Real job now. Fear of losing said job for blogging during work makes mjae a dull girl.
But this month only, I live the life I dream of.
I teach a creative writing class at a cultural center. All day long for a month with bright, interesting, talented teens. It's like taking adrenaline intravenously. Their juice juices me, and it takes all I have to stay a half-step ahead, just to ask the write questions, or at least the ones that will keep them thinking.
Today, we talked about culture, whether these days it means anything more than identity, stereotype, or skin color. They seemed shocked when I said that I think about culture as a way to posit and share values not valued by the capitalist monetary system. That historically, culture was like DNA for how to live, including how to communicate, interact, share symbols, trade, show respect, worship, etc. In some ways, I feel it is my gift to provide an opportunity to take back culture from its raggety, partial use for political gain and be able to define it in ways that makes it useful again for these up-and-coming artists who can teach us, again, how to live well and in peace and in beauty.
I have gathered some energy and precious little wisdom; tonight I gather the last of my calm that with luck can hold me through a month of teen energy surges.
May we all remember the horror of our youth and help build the bridges to connect us all, forward and back.
