Some objects, happenings, and feelings I’ve been grappling with this last week.
Last week was a horrible teaching week for me. There were some very out of control behaviors that made me feel very out of control myself and out of my body and alternately mad, sad, and then shameful. I don’t feel I can write about the details of my classes, especially when things go wrong. I’m not sure why my teaching needs to feel hidden? Student privacy, fear of losing my job because I’m on contracts, fear of looking like an asshole? All real possibilites.
But last week had a top ten most terrible teaching moment in it and I’m still dealing with the fallout.
So this is my first subscriber post. I’m experimenting with special essays and chats for subscribers. Every time you subscribe I get a bit more money which honestly helps me make it to the end of the month. I can buy groceries, pay down some of my enourmous credit card bills (maybe?), and buy clothes for my kid.
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The other wonderful thing that happened last week, is that some asshole(s) stole my catalytic converter. Apparently, this is happening everywhere and is a Tik Tok challenge. What fresh dystopian hell is this? To replace it may cost anywhere between one to two grand and gosh sometimes my life is very precarious. As are so many (American) lives.
So if you do subscribe, please know that your money is helping get a new catalytic converter for one of my disability hacks. Aka, my sweet little used Kia Soul. My kid named her Feliz.
Back to shame. Truly the stickiest, most difficult emotion for me. Quick googling reveals that Glamour UK magazine thinks there are four types of shame. They are cribbing from Joseph Burgo, Ph.D., a psychotherapist and the author of Shame: Free Yourself, Find Joy and Build True Self Esteem. I have not read this book, but it looks kinda good. According to Burgo via Glamour UK, the four most common causes of shame are unrequieted love (which stems from shitty attachment in infancy), exlcusion, unwanted exposure, and disappointed expectations. Aside from the unrequited love part, that’s pretty much how teaching has felt to me this semester.
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