SumBlog 7

Diversity in education is something that I've heard being discussed for as long as I can remember. Especially in high school. You know, when it comes time for applying to colleges? Diversity is such a hot topic during that time period. To me, diversity is very important. Not just in schools and universities, but in everyday life. There are so many different types of diversity and I think they’re all equally important; race, class, and ethnicity. I think it’s great for people to be around others that are different than them. If we were all the same, life would be kind of boring, don’t you think?

I think there can never be too much diversity in ourselves or in the people around us. It makes life more interesting because things are always changing. While there are some people who dislike diversity and think everything should be one way, I disagree. Like I said above, life would be boring and monotonous if everything was the same. Experiencing any type of diversity in our lives opens us up to be more accepting of differences. The more you experience, the more open you can become. 

The Paradox of Diversity: Dr. Marylin Sanders Mobley at TEDxCLE 2013

I found this TEDx Talk on YouTube and I think it fits very well with our discussion of diversity in education. Dr. Mobley discusses her experiences in dealing with diversity and how it affected her throughout her life. She talks about the decisions she made to overcome challenges and how they helped shape her. It’s definitely interesting and encouraging to listen to and I think we could all benefit from doing so. Hearing people’s real life stories and experiences is never a bad thing, and Dr. Mobley is no exception. 

SumBlog 6

I really enjoyed the video we watched in class on Wednesday; it made me appreciate custodians even more. It also reminded me of the janitor we had in elementary school. We called him Mr. Tom and he was so well-loved throughout the school. Teachers and especially students could never get enough of him. Unfortunately, Mr. Tom passed away in early 2011. During this time, I was in a creative writing class at my high school. I decided to write an elegy to him for one of my assignments. To this day, it is still one of my favorite creative works of mine—although it could use a little bit of editing. The impact that Mr. Tom had on me, and hundreds of other Clovis Grove students, is remarkable. He may not have been our teacher, but he taught us many things.

If Mr. Tom is just one custodian the world has had, I can’t imagine how many other great custodians are out there that have gone under-appreciated. This remembrance makes me want to have longer conversations with the custodians we have on campus. Where did they come from? What are their stories? Maybe one of them will impact my life as much as Mr. Tom did.

The issue of false consciousness is almost always relative to custodians. Most people think a custodian has that job because they can’t get anything else. A lot of times, however, the person chose to have that job—for many possible reasons. Because the world sees custodians in a less fortunate way, the custodians sometimes start to think of their self that way too. This leads to a false consciousness within these individuals. While Mr. Tom is not an example of a false consciousness, many custodians are—including ones from the film we watched.

I posted my elegy on this blog; here’s the link to it:
http://mollyhendries.blogspot.com/2014/03/if-it-were-up-to-us-elegy-to-mr-tom.html

If It Were Up to Us: an Elegy to Mr. Tom

For six years at Clovis Grove you made me smile,

even on my worst days.

The six years when I was most naïve;

but even then I knew

you were an extraordinary man.

You knew my name, and everyone else’s too.

We were your kids, the ones who made you happy;

the sunshine in your day—as you were in ours.

Even though you were just a janitor,

you never once let us down.

And even though you weren't our teacher,

you taught us to love life,

live life, and to

enjoy our time here.

We watched your biceps move up and down

like the teeter-totter on the playground,

as you gave them a beat to dance to.

Going to those Muscle Dances was our

favorite thing to do as little kids.

We would've gone to many more

if it were up to us.

Or we’d sit on your big comfy lap,

as you pretended to be Santa Claus,

with that perfect white beard of yours.

That beard that I will never forget.

That beard that I will always love.

Crossing your path in the halls

was the best part of my day.

I always knew you

would be there to make me smile and laugh

with that deep, jolly voice of yours.

Laughter has gotten me so far in life,

and I have you to thank for that.

You taught me to

laugh often,

laugh loud, and

laugh much.

Now that we’re in high school and college,

we’d give anything to still be

in the lunch room that was too big,

or in the hallways that we drew in,

or in our classrooms that you loved to visit;

laughing along with you,

if it were up to us.

The sparkle in your eyes,

like the moonlight in an ocean,

will forever be ingrained in my mind.

As will your presence in my heart.

It was contagious the way you were to us:

we became your copy-cats, your mini-me’s.

Your strive to be free, fun, and considerate was

exactly what I wished I was like.

Now I look in a mirror and picture you

there with me, telling me jokes and then

laughing at yourself, increasing

the wrinkles on your face.

Each time I see a mop bucket,

I chuckle to myself,

remembering how you let me ride on it.

And now, you’ll laugh with me too,

while you’re up there.

You’ll impress everybody with everything you do—

laughing, caring, being free.

You've done it to thousands of young kids here,

you can easily do it to millions of people

where you are now.

I wish you didn't have to impress the ones above

so soon, but someday

I’ll be up there with you too.

And then we can show off our laughter;

laugh until we cry, until our stomachs start to hurt.

But if I could, and if we could,

we would come visit you.

Not up there,

but at your home or

at your school.

If only it were up to us.

SumBlog 5

We learned a lot of different definitions in class this week, but a concept that got me thinking a lot was ‘passing’. It got me wondering about the times I've tried to be a part of a group that wasn't my own. I thought of a few examples, but one that really stuck out was my entire sixth grade school year.

In sixth grade I tried to fit in with the “popular girls” because I thought they were cool and well, doesn't every middle school girl want to be popular? Anyway, I tried really hard to be one of the cool girls during that year of my life, but it didn't work all that well. Let’s just say I’m a bit of a dork and I didn't accept that until later. I thought I wanted to be like the other girls, so I attempted to dress and act like them.

This photo was taken at a birthday party in October 2004; I’m the one on the far right. I’m pretty sure I zipped my sweatshirt all the way up because I was embarrassed about the shirt I was wearing underneath it. Also, I distinctly remember being extremely excited when I bought that sweatshirt because it was my first purchase from Aeropostale and I thought that made me super cool.

Turns out when I tried to pass for a popular girl, I didn't succeed in the long run. I’m happy about this now, but quite embarrassed looking back on myself during that time. However, everything worked out for the better. Of those five other girls in the picture, I’m not close friends with any of them anymore—and to be honest, I would only be comfortable having a conversation with two of those girls. I found people that are more like me and I feel comfortable around no matter what. For a year, I passed as part of the popular crowd, and after that I started to realize who I was. I’m glad for this part of my life because I grew up and became who I am today.

SumBlog 4

Imagine jumping on to your kitchen counter every time you need something from the cupboards. Imagine standing on a step stool every time you need that sweatshirt from your top shelf. Imagine not finding jeans that fit properly. Imagine never being able to see the hood of your car while driving.

Welcome to my life.

Oppression can be something very serious, or in my case, very simple and not so serious. However, it has still made a big impact on my life.

Growing up I was always the smallest person in my class, which made for my fair share of bullying. Kids picked on me all the time because I was so short. My classmates would grab my things and lift them up high so I couldn't reach them and then they would laugh in my face. In elementary school I spent a lot of time wishing I would magically get a huge growth spurt over night.

When middle school came, kids made fun of me because my clothes never fit; they were always too big. My jeans would drag on the floor and my t-shirts would hang far too low. To middle school kids, this was hilarious. I was an easy target to be made fun of…and we all know how much middle school students like to make fun of their classmates. The “popular” girls told me I should only like boys who were short (so, like, two boys) because the tall boys didn't like short girls. Looking back on this now it seems quite hysterical, but at the time I was heartbroken.

In high school I learned to accept my shortness, and most other people did too. We all matured and got over it once we entered the big leagues. Of course, I still couldn't reach things, which caused a great deal of struggle when I started to drive. I had to learn how to judge the length of the car and adjust my seat so I can reach the pedals without being too close to the steering wheel.

The struggle to reach things is still evident in my life today and will be for the rest of my life. The only difference is I've learned how to deal with and accept it. I've found a store that sells jeans that fit me as best as possible; I have step stools in my apartment that I’m used to using regularly; I've memorized the length of my car. I still experience oppression; I've just learned how to overcome it.