Principles and Principals: Work = Fun?

I work hard. I teach with all my heart, I plan, I research, I write, I speak, I go and go and go. My problem is that while much of that should be fun, it often doesnt feel like fun. It feels like work. Actually it feels that way most of the time. It feels like I have a career and I work in hopes that a) I will have an impact on the teachers I work with such that they change the ways they work with the students that they will have and b) so that I can live with myself. Case in point: This last semester I was CRAZY busy. I had thesis students coming outta my ears and was teaching 6 college level classes with a practicum. Nutty overwhelmed. I went to my boss and, laying my head on his desk, told him I needed help. He first told me to write a proposal for a TA (we dont get any assistants normally), and then to stop giving projects such as data analysis or case studies which require a lot to grade and give instead a multiple choice tests and final "like professors normally do." So, my moral and ethical obligation to the teachers (have them ready to use data and teach about data, have them able to test children and write case studies that are strength and weakness based) didnt seem to matter to the Chair (my boss). His "tip" was to toe the line and make it easier on myself. BUT, this is big time work here! How can I give up what I believe in to make it easier on myself? How can such a workload be fun? I hear mostly complaints from students who say my class "has too much work," is too "hard," and their grade "lower than any other class." Students complain about working hard, I complain about working hard (just not to them) and I wonder, should one give up their principles just as a principal often does when they forgo good teaching expectations in favor of testing obligations, or is it even possible for work to be fun? How does one find the fun? Sometimes we all need a photo op?

What does it mean to "do good"?

I am embarking on another trip, this time to Liberia. I have taken many trips and seen a lot of the world (although the more I travel, the more I realize there is to see and experience!). This trip is a bit different. I am heading out with a group of women to work in Monrovia, Liberia at 6 schools. These schools are remit with conditions that make learning even more than difficult. Things like teachers who arent paid and attend only so often, children who struggle to clothe themselves (let's not even start with have books), and administration that has ethical issues (one of the talks we are having with them concerns sex and grades). Now, I am not trying to say that there are not wonderful things happening there. There are. Peace has come after years of bloodshed and a woman has been elected president in a democratic election. I am sure the people are slowly mending and goodness will prevail. It almost always does. For me though, I head there to spread my knowledge about teaching and children, learning and caring as an educator. That is good, right? I was hired to do just that and have worked on curriculums to help them understand each other, teaching goals, learning, and other fundamental psychosocial avenues for education to occur and all the while am trying not to colonize their culture unto the American one, to make my teaching and their learning also their teaching and my learning. And hence, I wonder, when one gives from their heart and believes in the gift, but KNOWS there is to be a return, one bigger and perhaps more profound, is it giving, or is it giving with knowledge there will be receiving. Do I give to them only because I know I am about to receive more from them? Can one give purely to give? I just dont know.

I'm a Texan, right?

I'm a Texan, a native Texan, born and bred in the great state and despite many attempts to leave, am still living here. It's a big state and I've lived in several cities and held several jobs and received several degrees, all in Texas. I dont feel a big tie to Texas, Im not even completely sure why I am still here, why circumstances keep me here. But, they have. And now, as I need to go somewhere else, to venture away, I find myself unsure and insecure about it.

My grandparents have lived all over the US and decided to end their lives in this great state where it is warm, as did my mother and dad. My dad hasn't lived anywhere else in his life and neither has my 30 year old brother. Is it some sort of blood thing? Are we destined to stay in Texas? When is something worth moving for? Should there be a reason to stay when you feel like you need to go? Is my grandma enough? Is love enough? Is a better job enough? How do you leave the only state you've known?

When do you know it's time to go?

So, it's time, I know it't time. Deep in my soul I am sad, bored, and upset at my job, most of the time. I find only but a few hours in the days I am there that I feel satisfied, happy, and like God is using me to my capacity. So, it is time to go, to venture out and do something else or be somewhere else, right? When we become comfortable, and more importantly, when they become easy, too easy and one finds themselves not caring, it is time to hang up and move on. But such ease and security is hard to let go of. It's hard and some will think you are crazy. How did you do it? How do you leave something, knowing you might return, and you might not ever come back? How do I make it okay that my life's dream doesn't seem to be the way I thought it would?

DIG, Damn It!

My days seem to be too much the same. I'm sure that is true for all of working humanity. We get up, walk the doggie, have coffee, take a shower, and go to work until we leave, come home, watch TV ( damn you DVR), and head to bed. Same. Same. Currently, I have the dream schedule, well, not dream, but pretty good. I work on Monday-Wednesday till 10pm and them am off. The problem is the "off". I have work to do, I simply must work on manuscripts, preparations for class, and other sundry A&M tasks, but I dally around the tasks on my days off, work some, but not terribly efficient and certainly not as much as I could. And, while the dally might be somewhat earned while not necessary, it is inhibiting my ability to use my schedule to my advantage. There isn't a reason I don't have several articles in the pipeline for publication other than I don't write them during the free time I have. I do other things that do not contribute to my academic or cultural journey, things I like, but not growth worthy things, for example, I take Zoey for walks and to the dog park, I vacuum and clean , I go to bed late and sleep till 10. Those actions make me feel lazy, not competent, not excited about the next day, and most problematically, make me not enjoy the time off in ways that lead me further on my life journey. They seem to make me hate my work, not manage my time well and overall, not enjoy my newfound freedom. My days were made to allow for self-paced work. I've decided i don't like it, but I can't go to work to work, I hate it there and nothing good gets done. My desk is tiny here at home (which is, don't get me wrong) where most of the magic happens. So what do I do? Where do I go to work, not be distracted unless I want to be and have scheduled to be? I need to be schedule-used better...I need something new! Now, if I would just get up off my ass and do it! I must pick up the shovel and start to dig---NOW!

So, I've decided to a) find a coffee shop that I like here in San Antonio, not too far from my house; b) work Monday and Tuesday at school as scheduled and required; c) use Wednesday as a "cultural day" doing something that increases my social and cultural self; c) Thursday will be for manuscripts and will occur at the new coffee shop, and Friday will include a dog park, a good work out, and cleaning, plus sporadic academic needs including manuscripts, proposals, and teaching. I'll let you know.

Death

How does one deal with the loss of someone so important, so life-changing, such a joy that you can barely remember your life before them? When those we love die, the sun comes up and the world spins onward. Nothing really changed, other than you. Forced to go on, we breathe and eat, and remember, even when we don't even want to. It is not in homage that we go on, it is not because we want to, it's because we feel overwhelmed with the other options. But, its not okay, its not fine to me. Everyday I am reminded, everyday I feel the broken pieces and the guilt associated with death. What do you do to overcome the grief, to forgive yourself for not doing enough, not being there, not, not, not?

If I hate certain parts of my job (writing, working on committees) and can get out of them, then why do I feel so bad about not participating? I do not work at a prestigious university; I work at a university that is small and does not have such difficult tenure requirements as others. As such, there is not the need for the publications and proposals in the same way as other places. Yet, I feel less if I am not engaging in such higher education competitive sport. I chose a job situation for which I would be able to make different time choices in regards to writing and publication, but it seems that I can't feel worthy unless I am constantly proving my worthiness in pursuits I don't really enjoy and because of my current job (teaching 5 classes), can't really be competitive in. Or is all of the latter an excuse?

Why do I feel bad not participating in pursuits that I dont like? Is there something I am not seeing?