Thursday, March 4, 2021

Thursday, March 4, 2021

 

            Before Yvette started the yoga class, she asked if anyone had any particular body concerns. I told her about my shoulder, which was pretty bad. Deb said that shoulder pain was a pretty common side effect of the vaccine. Yvette did more work to help with that area of the body. She also asked me if I planned to go back to Bikram since I had my vaccine. I was still reluctant to have close contact of any kind. 

            The Bikram studio limits the number of people who can attend; you have to make a reservation and pay for it if you don't cancel in time for someone else to take that slot. I believe folks are wearing masks, but I'm not sure about that. That would make breathing hard. I know the room is sprayed with some special stuff after each class which kills viruses. Nonetheless, it is a closed and heated room. I'm so used to thinking 'cautious' I don't know if I will ever be able to come back to normal. I don't know if I ever should. 

            I was on the computer for two hours going down an internet rabbit hole. Jean, my hanai sister, sent me a link to "the best voice in the world," some youngster from Kazakhstan with a six-octave range. 

            I had my weekly appointment with Shelly. I worked on my fear again and how much I hated it. Behind the fear lay shame, the shame of being afraid, triggered when someone expressed contempt for me. I felt demeaned and wanted to hide that person's effect on me. Naturally, the most' effective way' was to fight back. The reaction was natural enough, but my 'life' was not at stake. Therefore, the response was dysfunctional. 

            I napped and did tons of work on blogs and updates the rest of the day, but not much more.

            I spoke to my friend Jean in Arizona. She got her second vaccine yesterday. She and her husband had to travel to Phoenix from Tucson to get it, but now it's done. I could hear she was having breathing problems. I know the Arizona air is usually good for her. She explained they were having strong winds resulting in dust storms. As they came home from Phoenix, there were times when they were scared. She said everyone's breathing is challenged by these dust storms; people whose lungs are compromised have even greater difficulty.

            I also finally got hold of my friend Carol. Mike and I met her and her husband John in 1982 when they moved into the house next door to us in Princeton. Now, Carol and John were on their last leg of a several-month trip across the US. They have a travel trailer that they attach to their truck.    

            It was a day of unpleasantness. I had called the church to ask for a statement verifying my donations to the church in 2020 for tax purposes. I was told there was no record of any donations. When I checked my credit card statement, it showed a donation every week, mysteriously ending in November. I was concerned I had signed up on a scam site instead of the actual church site. That was an upsetting thought, not only because I would be out the money and the tax credit but because the idea that scammers rob churches is sickening. 

            I only had A today for tutoring. I had him read the rest of his story. He is doing much better. However, when he gets stuck, he panics. I can appreciate his feeling. He was reading at a Kindergarten level when he was in second grade. When he misses a word, he starts struggling in counterproductive ways. I have to tell him to relax, to let me guide him. I asked him if his reading was better when he used what I told him to do. Yes. Could he trust me that I'm telling him to do the right thing? He is hardworking, and that is great. He just has to know when to push and when to let it happen. He wrote several stories that suggest he is socially isolated at school. I can see that his behavior might be inappropriate. I also see enough to think that mental retardation is not an issue. His problem is all audio processing and some sort of sensory disorientation. This affects his ability to understand conversation and respond appropriately.    If he has a more significant problem, it would be autism. I don't know if he has ever been evaluated. His parents haven't offered any information. 

            I played Reggie the Robot on the audiofile at the end of the session with A. It drives me nuts that I can't get parents to make sure their kids listen to the audio file. I can't guarantee that it will help, but I can be reasonably sure it won't do harm. It doesn't cost anything. Parents are willing to pay me to help their kids and won't do this free activity. I called A's mom later in the day. She insists that he listens every other day. I told her I could see the stats. She told me I was arguing with her. I was. She was saying that A is supposed to turn it on. He must not be doing that. I'm almost at the point of telling parents that I won't continue working with their children unless they do play it. It is better for the child and me if it does work; I won't have such a steep mountain to climb. The mom was right, however, that I was coming on strong. That serves no purpose. I will watch the stats.

            I wouldn't want someone to play the audio file for a preschool child unless there was evidence of a speech deficit – for that age. I don't believe in promoting left brain development early, which heightens phonemic awareness. In fact, I'm on Rudolph Steiner's page; children shouldn't be exposed to print before seven. In the meantime, they should do what the Waldorf Schools does: develop listening and speaking skills by exposing children to complex language through storytelling. Too much emphasis is placed on word recognition in contemporary preschools; it's much, much too early. However, I am not a whole language person either. Both are important once word recognition is appropriately introduced.

            Then I had a friend tell me that she thought it was remarkable that I was never fired from a job. She said it in the context of talking about Pat Conroy's movie, Conrack. He taught in a two-room schoolhouse on a small island off the South Carolina coast. His students are all blacks, the descents of slaves who lived there. He became aware that education was deliberately withheld, raised a fuss, and was fired. I think she sees me as someone who would have fought for those kids and been fired as a result.

            Sadly, it triggered wild feelings in me. My mom once threatened to call my boss to tell him I should be fired because I was doing something she didn't like. I also had a therapist who saw me as incapable of holding a job. All things given, that therapist was crazier than my mom. In her defense, when she met me, I was working privately. When I did decide to go back into the workforce because we needed health insurance, when Mike went back to school, she was shocked. 

             Why do people see me that way? It's not that I haven't run into trouble with one or two people in my life, but they are usually people with whom everyone is having trouble. Most of my coworkers and supervisors have considered me a valuable worker and fun. 

            Besides my mom and the therapist, Mike told me on two occasions that he would fire me if I was his employee. On one occasion, it was because I used all my own methods for teaching, following my own instincts. The second time it was because of my behavior.

            I had been exhausted one day at school. I was working in a small charter school in New Brunswick. I was on my lunch hour. There was nowhere to lie down. I crawled under the lunch table (a very large one)  and took a short nap there. That completely freaked Mike out. Let's get real, folks! I'm not socially deaf and blind. While some of my coworkers were a little startled, no one thought it entirely out of order for me, and it didn't occur to anyone to 'report' me. If they had, the principal would have supported me. There are situations where I would not have done that, no matter how tired I was. I know when I can get away with something. Concerning my work, I mostly get praise for my outstanding results; concerning my personality, people mostly get a kick out of me. I still get affectionate notes from people I worked with. 

            Shortly before Mike died, I mentioned that he had told me twice that he would have fired me. He said my behavior frightened him. Mike was terrified of chaos. While my mother's comments hurt me, Mike's never did. I believe this aspect of me is one reason he plucked me out of the bin, and it was he who did the plucking and pursing. He picked me because he intuitively knew he needed what I had to offer. I knew that I needed some of his love of order; I don't believe he ever consciously acknowledged his own needs to come to terms with the value of disorder, randomness, the unexpected. In the year before he died, he had come to the point of saying he found me endlessly entertaining; he never knew what would come out of my mouth next.

            Many people miss that some of my random behavior is for comic effect. An important aspect of comedy is surprise, mild disorientation, a small dose of fear. I read a book years ago analyzing comedy. It talked about the relationship between fear and comedy. It gave this wonderful example:  If you approach a young child you know well with a mask, he will laugh. If you leave it on too long, the child will become frightened. If you pull off the first mask and have a second underneath, the child will become terrified. 

            Even my mother eventually understood that I was funny, and we had moments where we could laugh together. That was lovely.