Christine Goes Philadelphia – Let Freedom Ring

DSCN4832When one finds oneself in a distant and unfamiliar city, what is the first thing to do? Walk about? Snap selflies in front of monuments? DSCN4828DSCN4827DSCN4817

Yeah…but come on. When visiting the city of America’s birth, you have to go on a ghost tour.

DSCN4843  so much fun—so many tales of yore.

This Beachside LA  girl adores the East Coast with its revolutionary history, brick and colonial buildings and charm. Mid June is a lovely time to visit. The trees are in full greenery, the main thoroughfares bustle with tourists and the smell of onions cooking to top the iconic Philly Cheesesteak waft from local eateries.

mmmm… DSCN4820But when you wander away from the crowd, the personality of the city opens its doors.


…and the memory of those who went before come alive ( Washington Square Park where thousands of unknowns from the revolutionary war times are buried beneath the now verdant grounds)

“Freedom is light for which many men have died in darkness”


DSCN4838 DSCN4839   The signers of our constitution, so honored in this grand city, whisper yet in those leaves as the sultry breeze warms another summer. The words penned in a time of upheaval and uncertainty echo down through the centuries–lighting our way into a future full of challenge to those liberties.

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If those old cobblestones could talk…what would they say?

DSCN4833           Visit that bell… by pony express, jet or “Back to the Future” flying car.

From sea to shining sea… let freedom ring.                                                                           DSCN4826

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A Little Bit Of London

Early June is a great time in Britain’s capital. Tourists are thick on the main streets–mostly European, as schools have not yet adjourned for summer in the States, but the weather is pleasant, sun flirting with clouds.

DSCN4641New model double decker buses jostle down the streets.

The South bank is like an outdoor carnival with street performers

The Bubble man enchants toddlers and adults

The Bubble man enchants toddlers and adults








new meets old architecture

The "Shard" mirrored Skyscraper in contrast to a minster and modern art statue

The “Shard” mirrored Skyscraper in contrast to a minster and modern art statue









a snog is a juicy kiss

a snog is a juicy kiss

Playfully sold cold and sweet treats







Shakespeare’s Old Globe Theater resurrected and beckoningDSCN4664






Round courtyard under glass - British Museum

Round courtyard under glass – British Museum

Greece's 'Marbles' - belong in the Parthenon, but under 'protection' of the Brits - a sore point of contention

Greece’s ‘Marbles’ – belong in the Parthenon, but under ‘protection’ of the Brits – a sore point of contention








The British Museum a staple of history-philes


Ale Pie, Fish ‘n Chips classic repast- a pint tooDSCN4607






DSCN4610 DSCN4606Gargoyles watching from above




Marlborough Arms pub







Westminister Abbey’s had a thorough scrubbingDSCN4602






Well known places bustle with life

Inside Victoria StationInside Victoria Station



and quiet side streets house families, bed & breakfasts and charm

DSCN4692       DSCN4691 DSCN4690Until next time..

Heathrow Airport’s facelift has left it wholly unidentifiable from the “Love Actually” days

DSCN4715huge hanging plane-like sculpture and see-through cab

DSCN4718 But we adore it all

Dustman's tools of trade

Dustman’s tools of trade

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Mom, What Did You Do Before The Internet?

While we were having a discussion about the ‘old days’ before the digital revolution, my son asked, his face a mask of perplexity, “What did you do all day before internet?”

image courtesy

image courtesy

At first, I responded off the cuff, “read”, but as the day progressed the question followed me about, nagging a more in depth answer. What did we do? As my mind skipped over the years, I realized with increasing chagrin, that we did a whole lot that many folks either no longer do, pay someone else to do or engage in infrequently.

I may not be an expert at all this stuff, but how impoverished are we if we miss out on the wide breadth of skills and creative pursuits off-line, off-phone, off-tv?

-build and maintain raised bed vegetable garden, Grow and use veggies in daily food prep

-read music and sing in four part harmony group

-self taught home chef and baker – homemade breads, cookies and the like as well as multi course meals.

-mend clothes and sew using a pattern to construct basic clothing

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image courtesy

-do basic home repairs–swing a hammer, use a miter box, electric drill and saw

-wash and hand wax/detail cars

-clean the house top to bottom

-cross stitch and other needlework art

-trim a bush, lace a tree, mow the grass, adjust sprinklers and just about any other yard maintenance

-papier mâche art, decopage

-paint on canvas with water colors and acrylics, sketch, work with clay/pottery

-write poetry, journal

-construct a novel, beginning to end

– give people haircuts; dog grooming

-cake baking and decorating

-refinish furniture

-Prep and paint walls

-Skateboard, beach volleyball

-Bike ride, jog, power walk

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image courtesy

– learn calligraphy and use in invitations/ letters (what is a hand written letter?)

-reading bedtime stories every night to the kids

-Take adult education classes in areas of interest- some for fun, some for further education

-Maintain paper files for receipts and important papers

-play board and card games, four square, hopscotch, jump rope

-inviting friends to dinner, coffee, barbecue, play cards, talk

– using the (landline) phone to talk and catch up

-dream, be introspective

In times past there was even more focus on craftsmanship, art and self improvement. Did it have to do with less distraction and more time to do things by hand? Our transition generation knows the time before endless hours of online gaming, social media, and TV binge watching. There was the personal interaction and/or participation in things that were not as passive as today’s non-stop entertainment, flashing lights and short attention space go-go-go. Learning a skill, craft or artistic outlet usually required a mentor and/or book–thus patience and perseverance so often denied in the “I need it now” computer age. “What? Ten seconds for the site to load? I’m clicking elsewhere.”

When I think about the great buildings, paintings, mosaics, statutes and sculptures of the

image courtesy

image courtesy

Renaissance and the centuries before the tech revolution, it makes me melancholy. Most people’s lives are absorbed in daily tasks that technology is supposed to make easier, but the truth of the matter is are expected to accomplish more and more, multitask and spin  wheels until stressed into high blood pressure, obesity, diabetes and worse. Our technological triumphs do not allow us more leisure. They make the world pace breakneck with expectations the same. They keep us emotionally and psychically chained to a chair—staring at a glowing screen.

What did you do before personal and professional tech filled your life? If you are not old enough to remember those days – are there things you would like to do that do not require a screen, but just don’t seem to have the time to do? Do you feel tech withdrawal if your phone or computer is not available?

What has tech added?

What have we lost?





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“We Make Marines” – Marine Corp Recruiting Depot Graduation


Please indulge this proud mama–My daughter is Series Commanding Officer at Marine Corp Recruiting Depot, Parris Island, South Carolina.

Today was the FIRST graduation ceremony over which she presided as Commanding Officer—her two platoons of female recruits  (and their male fellow recruits) became Marines.  DSCN4747


About “Series Commander” :
She has responsibility and authority over approx 100 female marine recruits and their nine Drill Instructors. (There are two platoons of female recruits,  six to eight platoons of men)

“We make Marines by recruiting quality young men and women and transforming them through the foundations of rigorous basic training, our shared legacy, and a commitment to our core values, preparing them to win our nation’s battles in service to the country.”


About Parris Island:

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Another June Day In Paris

Funny how life can sometimes be cyclical. A couple years ago I posted a pictorial about a June Day, Parisian style and here I am again, finding myself in what so many consider the ‘city of love’

With two days this visit, my camera and I put in some serious miles on foot, adding steps to my fit bit digital pedometer ( Think I spied it smokin’ ), fitness, and food for the soul.DSCN4463

DSCN4464 The east train station DSCN4465 DSCN4468  filled with street art    DSCN4469

DSCN4479 Nothing says Paris like Dominos delivered via scooter

DSCN4482 DSCN4485  Oooo la,la, le fromage et les gateaux

DSCN4486 small neighborhood sidewalk cafes

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The Basilica of Sacre Coeur   DSCN4499 DSCN4502  a dinner at ‘home’–spaghetti, zucchini corgettes, seed encrusted baguette with buttery garlic, a splash of bordeaux and…                         DSCN4507    more walking to …

The house of Orchids  DSCN4524 DSCN4525 A freshly scrubber Notre Dame DSCN4529 DSCN4531 DSCN4532 DSCN4534

and twilight along the Seine   DSCN4552


One more day to stroll

DSCN4565  the internationally familiar

and the neighborhood quaintDSCN4580 DSCN4574 ….Shop dedicated exclusively to pistachios


Statue in memory of June 4th 1945 Churchill “We shall never surrender” speech – made in the darkest days of the war for Europe.

And then there are the doors—the marvelous doors…

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“Covered In Bees” – What is IT about Eddie Izzard?

“Covered in Bees”….

“Cake or Death”…

Stage of the 1930's built Fox Theater, Bakersfield CA- set for Eddie Izzard Force Majeure Performance

Stage of the 1930’s built Fox Theater, Bakersfield CA- set for Eddie Izzard Force Majeure Performance

“Evil Giraffe”…


Just a few beloved phrases from the unconventional mind of British Comedian Eddie Izzard are well known by his fans.


My daughter introduced me to him via DVD. I definitely did not ‘get him’ at first. In my usual rush about, I had not paid close attention to the ravings of this self proclaimed “executive transvestite”. Dressed in flamboyant colours, high heels and ‘Fabulous Makeup’, Eddie nonetheless has an unlikely allure with women that rivals much more standard macho. Woven into the halarity Eddie educates us about what and what not it means to be a transvestite. Straight and ‘fancying women’ every bit as much as matching lipstick and nail polish, the Izzard of old strutted about the stage with the boisterous aplomb of a whole classroom of kindergartners. These days he dresses down, more standard male with a few deviations, while maintaining the extravagance and energy of his former glitz.


Born Edward John Izzard, Feb 7, 1962 to British parents working for BP in the Colony of Alden – southern bit of contemporary Yemen, his family moved back to the UK when Eddie was one. He did not begin toying with comedy until leaving an accountancy program at the University of Sheffield, honing his skills as a street performer in London in the 1980s. In the early 1990s he finally began earning some measure of recognition through his improvisation, in part at his own club “Raging Bull” in Soho. T.V. , theatrical and film credits followed, demonstrating the wide range of this man’s talents.

Eddie’s idea of normal is that it does not exist. His thoughts border on the bizarre and tend to hop about like a rabbit in a shooting gallery. Innuendo and subtly a hallmark of his musings, Eddie tweaks history and pop culture into what amounts to quite an intellectual coloring book.

His rendition of a James Mason-voiced God leads us on a broad sweeping romp through the Bible not unlike a child’s wondrous perception. Heavily laced with satire, it cuts deep without offending simply because it is so far-out amusing. Taking on various roles by turning his body, Eddie engages in unlikely conversations between real and imagined characters in a fast paced stream of consciousness that rivals the late Robin Williams.


No stranger to using his celebrity for good, Eddie ran forty three marathons in fifty one days, sans prior long distance running experience, as fundraiser for the U.K. Charity, Sport Relief . ( brings together the worlds of sports and entertainment to raise money to help vulnerable people in both the UK and the world’s poorest countries.) Whether performing in intimate venues or in front of thousands at venues as large as L.A.’s Nokia, and London’s Wembley Stadium, Eddie draws in his audience as we follow the bounding ball of his thoughts through what would be chaos to  less intelligent souls. Perhaps that is a large part of the magnetism—his razor wit. Not unlike the intelligent acuity of talk show host Dick Cavette, Eddie’s musings require attention closely paid, but well rewarded as he leads us from the seeming mundane to the glorious.


Izzard’s Force Majeure world tour had its latest play at the 1930’s Fox Theater in Bakersfield California on the evening of June 11.

Fox Theater Bakersfield 1 Fox Theater Bakersfield

Seen dashing into the street to snap a photo of the theatre marquee, Izzard in skin tight acid wash jeans and five inch stilettos bounded back to the curb and through the theater side door thirty minutes before patrons were allowed inside. Hair in a blonde cut ala Peter O’Toole in Lawrence of Arabia, high energy Eddie performed his benchmark rambling whimsical monologues for over an hour, returning for a second half nearly as lengthy. Time flies when listening to the man in full silky tuxedo-like suit and high heel boots. Dubbed ‘the lost Python’, Eddie’s self refererential physical comedy included a rendition of a horse doing dressage into a closet. (Why else would a mammal do something so completely unmammilian?), an explanation of why the English language is so ‘easy peasy lemon squeezy’ to learn, political reference to the tea party and being not unlike Charles the first before he was beheaded – ‘setting humankind back, you know’ and a German rendition of nailing two squirrels covered in gravy to the back of a truck.


Eddie has a fascination with languages springing from his belief that true communication with people across cultures occurs best in their own tongue. At an off-the-cuff post show Q&A in the lobby of the theater, Izzard credited his father and brother for his love of history- brother graduating in history “A-1” degree from English university.

Eddie Q & A Bakersfield

He is presently learning Spanish, Arabic, with a side of Russian to further enhance his ability to reach out to other peoples. In July 2003, Izzard received an honorary Doctorate of Letters from the University of East Anglia, Norwich, for “pro-Europe campaigning”, “his contribution to promoting modern languages and tolerance of other cultures and lifestyles” and for having “transcended national barriers” with his humour.


Izzard is continuing his Force Majeure tour, which launched in November of 2013 and will see him through twenty seven countries. Yet to perform and more info:

( )

June 13th

Vegas Pearl Theatre


SacramentoCommunity Center Theatre


Santa RosaWells Fargo Theatre

18th, 19th & 20

San Francisco Golden Gate

22nd & 23rd

San JoseCalifornia Theatre

25th, 26th


27th & 28th

Portland Keller Auditorium


Boise Morrison Theatre



Salt Lake City J.Q. Lawson Capitol Theatre



Lenox, MA, USATanglewood – Koussevitzky Music Shed


New Haven, CTSCSU


Providence, RI The VETS


New HampshireHampton Beach Casino Ballroom


Port Chester, NYCapitol Theatre



Red Bank, NJ Count Basie Theatre



Versailles La Royale Factory

Tout en Français



LilleLe Spotlight

Tout en Français




BrusselsCC Uccle

Tout en Français



ParisLe Casino de Paris

Tout en Français



LyonLe Rideau Rouge

Tout en Français



NiceLa Comédie de Nice

Tout en Français



Aix-en-ProvenceThéâtre La Fontaine d’Argent

Tout en Français



MarseilleLe Quai du Rire

Tout en Français



MontpellierLe Kawa Théâtre

Tout en Français



ToulouseLa Comédie de Toulouse

Tout en Français



NantesLa compagnie du Café Théâtre

Tout en Français



BoulogneThéâtre de la Clarté

Tout en Français


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No Matter the Language, There is Love

In France it is the law and tradition to wed at the local courthouse in order to fulfill the legalities. Such was the case late in May when my dearest French ‘son’ and sweet Celine wed.


Most newlyweds then have a ceremony of their own delight. Whether in church or a beautiful outdoor locale, couples fashion a ceremony that is most meaningful to them. Greg and Celine chose the coast of France where she was raised. DSCN4394 DSCN4397

One of the truly jaw dropping places in the world, Perros Guirec is the location of the famous pink granite boulders. One of only three places in the world that have this kind of stone, the granite of Perros Gureic can be seen in Paris in building and streets, but nowhere is it more amazing than in its natural state. Many of the pinkish boulders dwarf the trekkers that climb amongst them. The sea here has many moods. Mediterranean sapphire when overcast, the shoreline lightens to Caribbean aqua in the sun.

Tidal shifts are as grand as the boulders. When the water is low, beach dwellers can walk a city block out to the bashful sea. DSCN4157

Small crabs scurry and hide. Seaweed rests gracefully, and the boulders that appeared only large when the tide covers them, are gigantic as the skirt of the ocean is drawn back.DSCN4161 DSCN4163               (Can you see the crab nestling in the sand?)

The hotel where the wedding took place was ‘beached’ in the morning, the sea retreating far down the sand. DSCN4152 DSCN4166

By the time the ceremony begins, the water laps at the seawall and boats slip to and fro just off shore, expertly dodging the rocks in predetermined corridors. As the couple exchange vows,DSCN4358 the guests sigh, chortling when grandma adds an “Ooo, la, la” as the groom’s speech turns especially full of ardor.

Ring exchanged and a kiss…DSCN4367 DSCN4368

Those who take this ultimate leap of faith into an uncertain future- now full of promise in the sharing, are affirming

… a miracle… the miracle of love.

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The Road to a Printemps – Springtime French Wedding

When my French ‘son’ ( a beloved former exchange student) and his fiancee sent an

Bretagne in France.svg        invitation to their wedding in Bretagne France my heart leapt. Not only would this be a day of great joy, but it would be in a location I had never the privilege to travel.

The journey was arduous. Ten hours on a packed and cramped flight, a shoe-sized rental car to the equivalent of a motel six for the first evening. As is usually the case when traveling abroad on a shoestring, food is rare. The arrival time is generally in direct conflict with any stores or restaurants being open. At least after the airport exit dance and following the GPS to a place whose route includes one track winding roads with numerous round abouts/traffic circles–all in the dark.

DSCN4065This particular hotel reminded me of an RV–the bathroom raised above the bedroom in a corner with a nautical window hatch, a shower you have to exit to change your mind, and other fixtures matching miniature. But it was clean and warm–just the ticket for jet lag exhaustion.

In the morning, it was off to Bretagne (Brittany) – a chilly marine influenced environment with windswept gentle rises and falls in topography. The roads are good, decorated with a gorgeous array of wildflowers and apple-green tender spring grasses. Three and a half hours and a handful of tolls paid (beware tourists- carry Euros/cash as the French credit card machines will not always work), the roads narrowed further, landscape dotted with white cows and stonework farm houses.

The village of Perros-Guirec lies against the sea and the famous pink granite boulder shoreline. DSCN4394






Wedding Hotel (tide out)

Wedding Hotel (tide out)

The couple chose a hotel whose balcony faces a natural granite harbor. When the tide is low, beachcombers can walk many hundred yards past boulders that will be submerged as the tide returns. Coin sized crabs scurry along, diving into the wet sand when they feel threatened.

Trivia: Perros-Guirec is where, in Gaston Leroux‘s The Phantom of the Opera, a teenage Vicomte de Chagny retrieves young Christine Daaé’s scarf from the sea. It is also the resting place of her father.

Those a bit more intrepid can climb through narrow passageways and over enormous boulders. Some look as though they balance on a golf tee. The wind has sculpted them DSCN4182into many unusual shapes. Wildflowers nestle in the DSCN4223 DSCN4397cracks between rock and sandy earth, red winged moth-like insects bounce through the knee high grass. A well maintained gravel pathway stretches along the coastline for a few kilometers. A lifesaver service house and boat launch ramp,  a few sea weathered houses and a church are placed at odd angles so required by the massive boulders.DSCN4218 DSCN4228








This peninsular region of France is one of the coolest and wettest, microclimate – can be gray and fifteen Celsius lower than mid and southern regions of France.


DSCN4139 DSCN4118The village roads amble through beautiful stonework houses. Creperies are common, serving regional  cider. As the Scots revel in the complexities of their scotch, so the Brettons adore their cider. Served cold, the first flavor one tastes is the subtle sweetness, followed by a mild yeast and with a finish of burnt wood. Odd? Not at all. It is amazing and quite delicious, flavor complexities remaining in your sinuses as you enjoy.DSCN4136 DSCN4131 DSCN4132

I ordered a combination dinner: One “Gallette” (savory crepe), one sweet crepe and a bowl of cider.





And so day two ended with the light fading well after ten and a stroll back to the hotel, snapping photos all the way.

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To be continued….

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Have I Graduated to “Old”? How About You?

It’s not just the scary jowly stuff going on at my jawline reflected in the the beautician’s mirror as I sit having my haircut. Nor is it the weird things my skin is doing at the bending places. Nope, not me catching myself from spouting “That’s noise” when accosted by an unfamiliar modern tune. Not the suppressed flinch when some clerk at the store asks “Are you retired?”; the handsome waiter calling me ‘ma’am’, the senior menu qualification growing ever nearer (reading glasses required to see the small print where the age is disclosed).

It’s a discomfort, a sense of alienation, a discomfort with and in the world that I’ve never felt before. I’ve never been one to spout such platitudes as

image courtesy

image courtesy

“Oh these kids today (rolling eyes)”, or “They don’t make stuff like they used to”, etc., but dang, if those thoughts don’t come to mind on occasion.

When I watch an entire awards show and recognize only a handful of recipients and performers, when a simple freeway drive is no longer pleasant because of the aggressive, thoughtless drivers that seem to actively make the drive unpleasant by treating my very existence as a nuance in favor of haste, when left wondering if I suffer from early onset dementia because I can’t type in the correct password without opening a lengthy spreadsheet of passwords for one of dozens of financial or social account (that are only available online), when the only time I get a glimpse of my neighbors is for ten seconds as they are in their car backing out of their driveway using  their auto-controlled garage door, open-shut, when I have to hide from the sun because it might (and has) led to cancer, when the oldies channels on the radio play stuff I don’t know because I was busy raising kids when it was popular, when the beloved members of the greatest generation dwindle by the day, exiting the world stage at a time when we could sure use their sturdy tenacity and courage—that is when I feel old.

I love the Asian and native American cultures for many reasons. Their respect for mother earth, their plant based health promoting diets, their ancient respectful relationship with their home. What is most precious in these cultures and seems to be pushed aside with every passing year by a culture that is non-stop youth and energy, is the veneration and interest in the elderly. When I think what amazing life-altering wisdom is ignored because of our cultural bias, it makes me cry.

That ‘invisible’ senior you wiz by on the street as she struggles with her walker, has a life story to feel that could change your world.

When I was searching for volunteer work to enrich my time, I purposely looked for ways I could interact with and serve the elderly. The stories of lives lived in the first half of the twentieth century during times that challenged the very continuance of mankind are the stuff of more than wisdom passed on. They are the very lifeblood of our humanity.

In a time before electronics people interacted face to face, raised their families without the competition of incessant input from said e-gadgets, people lived a more personal, for lack of a better word, life. Flesh to flesh, face to face, heart to heart, we are united with those around us by a bond that dates back to our very roots. The need for personal interaction echoes in our genes.

image courtesy

image courtesy

Click by click, flicker by flicker we gain a breadth of knowledge about places and people around the world we may never have met. Personal? No. Enriching? Perhaps. Do I miss the ‘old days’? Gosh yes.

Those folks of yore have either gone to their reward or moved a continent or two away for the allure of a job—chasing, ever chasing that elusive dream of greener grass. We are an isolated people and it sometimes makes me melancholy –or maybe I am just  “Old”.

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What Were You Doing at Twenty-two?

I was training to do what society told me I should.

image by C London

image by C London

Yes, there was a time when the majority of women who worked outside the home, and they were few, worked as nurses, teachers or secretaries. Mine was the first generation to reap the positives, and yes negatives, of the womens movement.

The post-libber mentality put enormous pressure on young women to be gainfully employed. If you wanted to be a homemaker and/or mom, you were considered by many to be somehow substandard, unmotivated or simple. Now in the wake of this revolution that has still not managed to garner more than seventy cents on the dollar for women, the vast majority of women HAVE to work to make ends meet. Homes, food, rents and life’s necessities have skyrocketed in cost, far outpacing one income to supply.

I can hear you gals who make enormous sacrifices to stay at home with small kids thinking, “I did it.” Hold your head high for being that coupon using, scrimping, DIYer that manages to stay at home. You deserve every kudo imaginable. What you do not deserve is the inability to be at home without being forced to live like a church mouse.

‘Nuf said.

At twenty two I was in teacher training. Having earned a bachelors degree, I was student teaching at two separate, one inner city, elementary school environments to fill California state requirements for an unpaid internship situation. At twenty two I had no idea where my life passion lay, so I did what society still rewarded as a nobel career.

And I hated it.

Loved the children. Hated just about everything else from dealing with ‘standards’ set by law makers who hadn’t set foot in an elementary classroom since they were eleven. Dealing with required hours of extra work unrelated to my own classroom. Dealing with parents whose expectations and dreams for their children were sky high and consequently suffered the five stages of grief if their little one could not meet those expectations. Yes, I was a kindergarten teacher in an affluent multi-cultural neighborhood.

My student teaching experience taught me that I was not culturally or emotionally suited to serve low income children from the vast variety of cultures and language backgrounds present in a modern day metropolis. But that is where they wanted young white teachers. All in the name of mix.

Was I ‘good’ at it? You bet. Chosen as a mentor teacher in my second year, I received many ‘at-a-girls’ from administrators and parents alike. I was for all intents and purposes, the ideal teacher.

But I hated it.

I was burnt out long before I actually changed course. Did I allow my burn out to effect the students? Never. I took the brunt of the consequences of working at a job not meant for me. My own kids would probably tell you I snapped at them too often, but I still made sure they had themed birthday parties, homemade Halloween costumes and a home cooked meal that we all sat down to every night together.

At twenty two I could not foresee the sacrifice required of myself on the throne of expectations. I was doing what I thought was right.

Dear young adults — please don’t expect to know what you want to do at twenty two. But don’t let that stop you from preparing for your passion. You can’t find what makes your heart sing if you don’t search for it, unless you are one of those blessed few who know their heart from knee high to the proverbial grasshopper. Try out as many jobs in as many industries and places as you can. Go into each with open eyes, mind and heart. Don’t be disappointed if after a whole-hearted experience, you find that job not to suit you. And don’t settle. You have learned. You have grown. You have moved forward toward that day when you will find yourself engrossed in a job without awareness or care for the clock. Fill that place made just for you…

“Pleasure in the job puts perfection in the work.”

Keep at it until…

“Work is more fun than fun.”
― Noël Coward

All my best  to you and FOR you


Posted in Childhood/Growing Up, energy management, Finding Your Passion, Life, life passion, New Beginnings, Opinion, Success, Women | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment