Well, I'm "officially" an ESL teacher. In fact, I taught throughout the summer and am now into my first Fall semester at an English Language school in Times Square. Of course, I'm also in my third semester of volunteer teaching "America Now: Media and Writing" at the International Center.
My experience teaching has been challenging and rewarding. Everyday, I'm forced to be creative (whether I want to be or not). My hours with my students go by so quick; accordingly, my
"free time" is mostly dedicated to lesson planning, paperwork, and sorting through the fourty hours of emails I still put in a week at The New School. Yes, yes, ...again, as seems to be the theme running through every one of my "post" - for those living life, it's difficult to ever really take a moment and set the important experiences down onto the page.
Of course, there's a whole Mass Media machine operating around and through us; so why feel like we "need" to contribute or write at all? ...Good question. Of course, bad question too coming from someone who wishes to write more and teachers others to do the same. But, I can't ignore my thoughts. After all, why does Snooki have a published book? For the "working class hero", there is no time to really write about the personal, political and cultural events unfolding around us. And good riddance, most of our rambles are worthless anyway.
I suppose, the ultimate point is that there's no time to stop. We act and react. No time to write. Sad.
Anyway, this entry is a pathetic attempt to regain a bit of my voice again. To get these rusty gears working. Let's quickly reflect back on the past few months: has a lot happened? ...No not really: I went to visit my father and Ben in Vancouver, I attended Ena's friend's wedding in Seattle. We went to see M.I.A at Terminal 5. The Yankees lost their bid for the World Series. Jackass came out in 3D. I voted Working Families Party in this month's election. Did my laundry, walked the dogs, and ironed my shirts. Like a good capitalist - I even scraped-by to pay down my credit cards, taxes, and loans. I suppose, I'll leave the important words (and spending) to those with less menial duties to attend than mine. Besides, there are other, more adept, writers to criticize. Like Chris Hedges, for instance, he's always a good read. (Not always what I want to hear, but sobering as hell.)
Of course, Ena and I went to the Stewart/Colbert "Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear" last week. Much of our reason for going was because we love the Colbert Report and the ride down was free - thanks Arianna. We rode the Huffington Post "Sanity Bus" to DC and even saw Arianna that blustery, cold, morning waiting in line outside of Citi-Field. I honestly thought we'd never get on one of those hundreds of buses flowing through the parking lot, but we did. However, I definitely imagined myself (...more than once) back at home sleeping-in, firing-up some bacon, and watching the whole damn rally from cable TV.
Well, because, this is America. And sometimes, we do things in America for no real good reason other than it might look cool on TV. So, we eventually got on the bus. The ride there wasn't as painful as I thought it'd be. We napped, I studied Japanese, and when the bus stopped for a stretch, I bought our bus driver a coffee.
When we approached Washington, there was an almost giddy, pre-concert, excitement on the bus. Lots of folks checking their cell phones and texting friends already there at the rally. By the time we passed the NSA building on our right, it was difficult to contain the energy. I wanted the bus to start chanting, but we "maintained"; after all, this was the 'sanity bus'.
The bus dropped us-off two miles from the Mall. Ena and I marched fast, but by the time we ultimately got there, the three hour rally was half over. Nevertheless, the sight of the crowd of 250,000 on the Mall made it all worth the trip.
We inched our way through the crowd in an attempt to find a spot to listen. I kept stopping and laughing at the creative signs and costumes. The crowd was relaxed, there was no negative vibes (unless you consider irony a negative vibe). After weaving our way through the crowd, we found a spot to actually hear the speech over the speakers and get a glimpse of the stage from a jumbo-tron. But we listened to the closing remarks of John Stewart, which I will post below, because I thought what had to say was important...