I Got Those Post-Semester Breakup Blues

An exercise that I do with my undergrads at the beginning of every semester is an identity web. I demonstrate by writing APRIL on the whiteboard, and then surrounding my name with identities that influence my life: STUDENT, TEACHER, BIG SISTER, CHICANA, WOMAN, ABLE BODIED, among others. It’s a fun exercise that gets them starting to identify who they are, what matters to them, and what privilege they have.
Then at the end of the semester we revisit those webs and reflect on any possible changes in their identities. And this time I had two big changes under STUDENT and TEACHER.

The semester ended a about a week ago and I’ve been having a pretty hard time. I submitted final grades, turned everything in for the class I was taking, now everything’s done. Over. Nothing else needs my attention. And it’s so damn weird.

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First Walk with My New DSLR

When the autofocus broke on my Nikon D3000 two years ago I was heartbroken – I love taking pictures! Not being able to take good quality photos, and losing that hobby, was super shitty. But this past week I found a Craigslist ad that was selling the exact camera I wanted! Over the years I’ve spent so much time researching different models so when someone was selling that exact camera exactly in my budget – it felt a bit like fate.

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NaNoWriMo: Welcoming Stress, or Self Care?

I’ve been thinking about NaNoWriMo for months – and trying to convince myself to do it.

I think I have a lot of good reasons not to: it’s a huge time commitment, I don’t have time with my teaching and homework and grading and life, it’s a waste of time that I could spend writing poetry for my thesis (that I haven’t started).

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How acting like a writer made me a act like a better granddaughter

My relationship with my Grammy is not the strongest, most patient relationship. I think she’s very high strung, and demanding. She complains about being in pain a lot, and it makes me frustrated. I don’t always think kindly about her, even though I know that her depression and physical pains makes it hard for her to be the type of grandmother I think I want. I know she loves me, and I appreciate the things she does for me – but sometimes I just want her to leave me alone.

Continue reading How acting like a writer made me a act like a better granddaughter