God. I cannot express how ready I am to get this memoir over and done with. I’m not going to lie, I am SO DONE with this entire project. I can’t tell if it’s the stress of everything being due within the next five days (since apparently it is a great idea to make everything due, in all classes, the Thursday/Friday before Spring Break starts) or if it’s just because I don’t know what I am trying to say anymore. For how many pages can I go on about what it was like being ten, seventeen, or twenty, learning about my own touchstone beliefs, and how it applies to me now? If you want an actual answer, it’s six. Six pages so far. I have blabbered on, trying to encompass all of the important details of each period of time in my life, so my reader understands where I am coming from. What’s even better? I don’t even know if they’ll agree with me. Yeah, they could sit there and read my entire memoir, sit back, and spit on it if they want. No one has to listen to what I have to say; perhaps that is why this project has frustrated me beyond anything I thought to be possible.
Essentially, all I can picture are my own readers, holding my paper in their hand, sighing after reading it all. I don’t want my project to be boring, or frustrating, but these guidelines that have been placed on it have left me severely restricted in what I feel is possible for me to do in this project. Believe me, if I didn’t have to focus on my own touchstone beliefs surrounding education and it’s purposes, there would be no problem for me to progress in this project.
I’m sure as you can obviously assume, that is not the case. If it were, there would be none of my frustrated ranting to aid in my attempt to blog a thousand words a week, to finish my actual memoir, make my poster presentation, and everything else that is going on in my life right now.
You may be thinking that I must be the most negative person on the entire planet, and in this moment, I wouldn’t be one to disagree with you. I’m feeling super negative right now—specifically about what this project is expecting of me. Can you blame me? Stress is part of the deal when becoming a college student, I know, but it can only be so helpful. I am one that works well with deadlines, but what I am not good with is when the deadlines become so massive that I feel I may drown in the stresses of everyday.
Okay. Now that I have officially ranted for near five-hundred words, perhaps I should move toward the positives and look at what I have competed in these last six weeks. I have been able to complete all the levels and requirements of this “teacher as writer” badge. That’s really satisfying to think about, especially when I look back to my first day of class when I looked at everything I was meant to do. I can tell you with certainty that I never thought that it was going to happen. All that is left to do now, is to finish my memoir, polish it into an acceptable final draft, and make my ‘how to book’. Really the worst part of this is finishing up my memoir. It takes me so much to sit down and work on the specific voice I am trying to encapsulate at that point in my memoir.
Of the aspects I have finished, I am happy with them. I know that I need to work with what I have and improve it, but I am satisfied with the scenes I have created. I feel that scenes are the most important part of memoirs, to show rather than tell. The ones I have created do this well, in my opinion, but I am still struggling to put my college experiences into a scene that shows rather than tells as it occurs over two years rather than a more pinpointed moment like my other two touchstone moments have. That, and my college experiences aren’t necessarily a touchstone moment of mine. They have given me an amazing amount of insight to what I think a classroom should look like as well as tools to take into my future classroom, but they aren’t necessarily experiences that I look back on whenever I think of writing, reading, etc. Yes, they have taught me valuable lessons that encompass education and it’s purposes. Does that mean they have stuck out in my mind more than my previous two touchstone moments? No. They really can’t compare in the same way. I will use them more in how I teach rather than why I teach.
That’s all the difference in the world to me. Perhaps that sentence will make its way into my memoir after all, and if it does, I can say that this rant has been inherently successful, which is what generally happens to me. Much of my progress comes from whining about my frustrations and struggles. I swear I become more and more of an angsty teenager every single day. Hey, if it works for me, I suppose I shouldn’t be ashamed of it. Any progress is progress, right?
I’m going to make myself a promise now: that I am going to make it through this damn project (that much is fairly obvious). After that, however, I am going to wallow in the satisfaction of it being done and within my own angst. Hopefully, I will have cookies and milk, a night night of movies, and I will look forward to typing again. This memoir is slowly killing me, I’m sure.
Alright, enough of this blog post. I’ve managed to ramble on long enough for anyone to bear. Maybe my cute picture and nostalgic gif will be enough of an apology to anyone that managed to read this whole thing.