Did any of you other kids from the 1970s eat raw potatoes growing up? My dad used to sit on the sofa with a potato (Yukon Gold type as I recall it), a paring knife, and a salt shaker, and slice of a thin slice of potato and salt it, and hand to my brother or I to eat, and he would eat one himself.
‘Round and ’round he would go, me, my brother, him, until the potato was gone.
What weird food(s) did you eat as a kid?
So, one of the colleges where I work is a bit financially disadvantaged compared to other colleges that have students living on campus. It is also an HBCU (Historically Black College/University). This, in my mind, seems appropriate, as, in the USA, I feel minorities get less resources in general, so of course the HBCU would be run-down.
Some students here can be food insecure, and Dave and I packed up a big bag of noodles and the like for a student a week or so ago. Some students have trouble adjusting to a world where all they are supposed to do is concentrate on their own success and growth. Many have been trying hard just to make it to adulthood, or helping other family members or friends with all their personal resources, including scholarship money. Everyone they know has a sad story about why they need some of the student’s scholarship money. Focus on school work is not always easy.
Add to that the real truth that many of the facilities are run-down and in disrepair.
In contrast, at University of Delaware, a PWI (predominately white institution) I taught in one building that had over 300 classrooms, and each classroom had over 50 brand-spanking-new chairs, and each of those chairs cost 600 dollars (per chair!).
I know because I looked them up because they were sooooo cool I wanted to get one. Ha! Not in this lifetime….
Imagine the wealth there. Do the math. Think inequality has been fixed? Count the damn chairs.
So, in my own small way, I try to help uplift my students and the school.
This semester we adorned our tired room with handmade inspirational posters (and Sophie even added two one day when she didn’t have to go to school, but I still did!):
stickers from Dollar Tree (my daughter’s favorite place on earth people!):
and two clocks!
I bought a clock originally that was a standard kitchen type of clock, and it fell off the wall and broke.
Today I installed this baby:
I defy the powers that be to try to stop THAT clock!
But, as you can see, directly under it is a computer that cannot be used because the desk is broken. *sigh*
The last thing I did today, before leaving for spring break, was start an in-room library.
Wanna donate a book? It cannot be beat-up, and it must be something you, yourself, enjoyed reading. Don’t give me A Brief History of Time because you couldn’t get through it. Give me books that brought you joy, escape, entertainment!
Happy spring everyone! She is almost here, in all her color and warmth!
Boy, oh boy, I remember, in the 1970s, when I was young, almost every Sunday was busy, almost like an extra school day. There was church, Sunday school, and then off to visit Grandmom, or have Grandmom and (Great) Aunt Verna at our house. Cleaning and cooking, and then staying out of the grownups’ way as they played endless (truly, endless! I am certain the games continue now, in heaven!) games of double-deck pinochle.
I also remember the rare Sundays we didn’t do squat. There would be a patch of sunlight coming through the storm door glass to where I was, laying on the dark green carved living room rug reading the Sunday Funnies, doing the puzzles, and then switching over to a coloring book or a Nancy Drew. Mom and Dad would be sitting on the sofa reading their parts of the paper, or watching an Abbot and Costello or Blondie on TV. Dinner might have been fried eggs and potatoes, or oatmeal with piles of toast.
Although I always did well-enough at school, I don’t remember really enjoying it. And Sunday night was always stressful for me. I hated the thought of getting up early and being trapped in classes all day. (Probably why I thought it was a good idea to get so many degrees! WTF was I thinking?) Sagittarians (of which I am one) are supposed to love being outdoors. I think what I love is not so much whether I am in or out, but whether I am free or bound. So, on Sunday night after a “We didn’t do squat” day, I always felt slightly more relaxed anticipating Monday, as if the unstructured day had put enough air in my tank that I could hold my breath until Friday afternoon.
We don’t often get free-Sundays now either. I work a few jobs; Dave is in school, and we try to provide activities (hopefully with friends) for Sophie, and this Sunday (and every other one in general) we have writing group (damn you Milton Workshop!)
But, sometimes we get a lazy day….
And when we do, what do we do?
Dance with Mouse in a new dress sent by Aunt Lee
Nap on the floor or the sofa, as fat as we wanna be
Imagine stories about potatoes
Get visited by Rosie, our shy cat
Re-imagine our furniture
Try on all our favorite shoes
Make art inspired by Frida Kahlo
Drink more coffee than is good for us
And fill up our tank with air for the long week ahead.
