I was surprised to see how many people gave this book a low rating, but thinking back on it, I can understand certain (or even most) readers’s negative response to Gilbert’s more self-absorbed moments. I can’t decide myself if Gilbert is, at times, trying to be just relentlessly honest so as to paint the most accurate description of not-so-pretty moments, or if she really is that self-absorbed. I feel like I’ll need to read another book or two by her to decide.

This is also certainly not an experience that I feel like I can relate to. I mean sure, I love travelling, but very few people can decide they are unhappy and just jump on a plane to Italy. This was only possible because Gilbert was already a successful writer and so could make that kind of self-righteous journey. Most people never have a year’s worth of time or resources to go “find themselves.”

I’m choosing to give this book a high rating because despite my reservations about Gilbert’s tone and sometimes irrational immaturity given her age and success (again, should I admire her honesty?), I felt like a part of Gilbert’s journey all throughout Italy, India, and Bali. The dialogue she constructs for the characters is a bit long winded and overdone at times, but she does well to reinvent the accents and dialects of her characters. I also found her insights into yogic mediations and Baliese rituals and cultural traditions to be beautifully written and terribly interesting. I also believe that her maturity develops throughout the book. Yes, at the beginning, Gilbert is self-absorbed and pathetic, but isn’t that the point? She sets out on this journey to transform herself into a different person, and over the course of the book finds herself in situations to help others, and with each week that passes, she becomes more and mores self-aware and “balanced,” and so by the end, she worries less about herself and focuses more being a part of a community.

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Whenever someone passes on, the bereaved always tend to remember the good things over the not so good. Well, everyone has their faults, and I’m sure that goes for Angie, as well. But as I think back on Angie, I am moved to say that her vibrant energy and her unyielding loyalty toward her close friends and family has inspired me to revisit the true meaning of friendship.

 For the past decade, any time my mother’s phone rang, it was guaranteed to be Angie’s voice on the other end. She called all the time. She called when something good happened, when something bad happened, when something in-between happened, and my mother enjoyed listening to Angie’s colorful stories and humorous reenactments. When my mother went through a rough period, both financially and with her health, the phone kept ringing, and always Angie’s voice reminded my mother that someone cared deeply for her.

That’s the ultimate friendship: to have someone who, day in and day out, wants to call and share his or her life with you. Thinking back on my friendships, I’ve not been so lucky. Probably many people would say the same. It’s not that I don’t have close friends; in fact, I have many. But as the years pass, my phone rings less and less, and friends who once called daily, even sometimes late at night to talk and catch up, rarely dial my number anymore. I’m guilty of it, too. As times passes, it can be easy to neglect friendships, putting life’s daily anxieties before the people who matter most.

That’s what made my mother’s and Angie’s friendship so special. For over a decade, they hardly even went more than a day or so without calling and sharing in each other’s lives. In fact, Angie was the same with all her close friends.

It goes without saying that someone who makes that good of a friend is surely that good of a person. Though I am deeply saddened by her death, I am honored to have known Angie, and I am thankful for her in that she will always be the standard I set when I think about friendship.

~Angie, thank you for support over the years, and thank you for being such a good friend to my mother. You will be missed more than you will ever know.

When I got to Mexico, I had a year’s worth of ESL teaching experience behind me. I felt confident right up until I was informed that I would be teaching little kids. Then, I was freaked.

The kids almost drove me crazy. I mean, I don’t blame them for their angst. At 7 years old, I wouldn’t have wanted to be at Spanish Language Camp. These kids wanted to be a soccer or dance camp. They’re freaking kids. Regardless, I grew very frustrated, repeating “sit down,” “sit down,” “be quiet…” To this day, I regret my seriousness. I should have just let them run wild as long as they were speaking English. I did see improvements in my kid’s language abilities. So, this is proof that we did our jobs. BUT, I probably could have been more fun at the same time.

While the entire trip seemed to solidify my career goals, I  am proud of myself. I learned that I can teach kids, and that I kinda like it. One class I taught will always stand out. It was a class of eight 10-year-olds. German, Alejandro, Cesar, Brandon, Marco, Humberto, Armando, and Jorge. We danced to “Beat It,” performed a kickass Star Wars skit, played soccer vocabulary games, blindfolded each other, created a time capsule to be opened in 10 years, and discussed the things we would take to the moon and under the sea in addition to many other activities. I will always remember their names and their little faces.

I’m sad now to think I might never see these kids again- that I will never know who they’ll become or what they’ll do. All I can do is hoped that I helped them in some way, and I think I did. I guess that is all anyone can ever hope for. The good ones live our lives in awe of each person we meet. We are better for each experience and for each face that becomes an acquaintance and each acquaintance that becomes a friend.

Here is the letter I wrote, recapping my experience and offering advice to the students that go next year:

Dear Friend,

My experience in Monterrey, Mexico, in the TESOL practicum class was invaluable. The LaSallian Summer Camp provides student-teachers with the opportunity to practice different teaching areas (vocabulary, conversation, and pronunciation) to a wide range proficiency levels and age groups. I had the pleasure of the teaching and / or assisting with all three levels of proficiency, and I taught a wide range of age groups, including five-year-old little girl and a 40-year-old nun. What I consider to be the most valuable learning experience and what I hope you will gain from reading my portfolio is that communication should be at the heart of all the lessons,that the teacher need not all always be in control, and that teaching all ages is a rewarding experience.

Prior to my trip to Mexico, I planned what I thought were highly communicative activities. Some were complete failures, and some were surprising successes. Within this portfolio, I offer you my six successes in hopes that you will be able to implement them in your trip. In most of the lessons, you will find my commentary on how to make each activity more communicative. This is based on my experiences using these activities. Also, you will find my comments reminding you to let the students run the class, if they are capable of this. In my evaluations, Scott offered me a lot of positive feedback but relentlessly reminded me over and over that I was controlling my class instead of letting them take control. By the end of the third week, I learned how to let go. It is true; the classes that are facilitated by a teacher and then controlled by the class are most communicative and the most effective.

During my first week of teaching, I was mortified to learn that I would largely be teaching children. Prior to this camp, I had not worked with children, and I was very worried about not knowing how to communicate and interact with them. The experience had its ups and downs, but slowly I began to understand that kids are sometimes much easier to teach than adults. While ESL is a rewarding field overall, working with children is a very special experience that I am so thankful to have had.By the end of camp, I saw improvements in the children’s English proficiencies, and it is an amazing feeling to know that I contributed to that. Not to mention, the kids taught me not to be so serious. Sometimes the best learning environment is a fun one. I am proud of my students, but I am also proud of the progress I made in learning how to teach children. I consider this to be my biggest accomplishment, and no matter what I do in life, I believe that this experience will always be one of most rewarding challenges I ever faced.

In closing, what I have concluded to be the most important part of this portfolio and the experience as a whole is communication, the teacher as facilitator, and the importance of trying new things. The purpose of the camp is learning to speak English; therefore, no matter what activities you try, make sure they involve constant oral communication. Next, learn how to let go. As the teacher, it is hard to sometimes learn to be invisible, but it is a great accomplishment to watch your students excel at an activity on their own. Finally, do not be afraid or apprehensive about trying new things. No matter which age-range or proficiency level you teach, there will be good and bad moments, but overall it will all be rewarding for both you and your students.

Good luck on your trip. This will be a life-changing adventure! 

Sincerely,

Christie Collins

I think I’ve been seriously neglecting this blog. Oops. This has been a busy summer. Busier than I thought it would be. I think that no matter where I go or what I do with my life, time will always be measured around the school calender. All life events occur in semesters. I’m always looking forward to a summer, winter or spring break.

In the month of May, I took like five mini-trips. I basically stayed gone the whole month. In June, I taught two classes and took a seminar in comic cinema. I really enjoyed falling in love with Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton and studying the visual arts instead of the written, but I was super busy. I went to class at 8, then taught for two hours, then lunch, then office hours, then homework for class, then preparing lesson plans / grading papers, then bed. For the entire month, I didn’t make any progress on unpacking my apartment. I didn’t see anyone, and I really didn’t do anything. I did start going to the gym. We can count that as win.

In July, I went to Mexico. More about that in another blog.

My reason for recapping my summer is to say that here I sit. The entire summer has passed me by, and I am just now unboxing and unpacking my things. I’m always hesitant to warm up to new places, even places I like. Being completely settled in, in some strange way, will signify both my independence and my loneliness.

It’s one thing to be single and to live with a roommate, and it is quite another thing, I have found, to live alone and be single. Contemplating this has led to a series of thoughts I like to refer to as peculiarities in singledom.

Last month, I had an opportunity to learn the mechanics of a toilet. I say opportunity so as to try to seem like the optimist. No only did my toilet overflow, but it also did this thing where it ran continuously. Now, if this has happened to you before, you know that it really is not that hard to fix, but it was new to me. I fixed my toilet and felt like a born-again high school blonde scoring high on the ASVAB. Anyway, at any other point in my life, someone would have fixed that for me. A boyfriend, a roommate, my father. But when you rent a one bedroom apartment, you inherit a heap of your own problems. It’s like an adventure, or that is what I will tell myself until something serious breaks.

Also, movie rentals. In relationships, renting a movie meant quality time. Now, I go to rent a movie because I am going to pull my hair out if I don’t go seek out entertainment. A person can only do so much cleaning and schoolwork before a break is needed. AND I have literally seen everything on TV or it’s nothing but bad TV. I refuse to watch Roseanne at 4pm. Roseanne is exclusively reserved for 2am.

To be clear, I am in a vacation period of sorts. I still have responsibilities and whatnot, but I do not start work and school until August 17th. Several of my friends are out of town, and I have been sick. These are the reasons for my being home A LOT recently.

Also, now that I am single (not that my being single is a new development), my organizational methods have gone from adequate to obsessive. For instance, here’s a book…. its goes on the bookshelf. That was old Christie. Now, I divide my books into very specific sections. Is it a reference book, a book of fiction, poetry, new age? If poetry, is it English or American? 20th century? It is criticism or an anthology? Something tells me that I have too much alone time on my hands. Of course, now it’s worse because I’ve discovered library booksales. I can now buy 20 books for like 7 dollars, but then I am faced with such problems as what shelf should I put my handbook for chess players or my dictionary of legal terms?

Also, almost all of my close girlfriends started dating a guy this past year so now I am the perpetual third wheel. It’s fine, most of the time– until the moment happens– the moment when you have to watch them consciously rediscover their affection for one another. This usually happens after a meal, and then it is time for the third wheel to spin home.

Anyway, I think my singledom has gone from amateur to professional. I like it, most days.. even prefer it. On the days I might doubt that, I remember 11thstreet. Would I want to be back there, again? Is being involved with someone worth that kind of compromise? Nah, I’ll wait.

One issue that I hope to amend from previous blogs is habitual rambling… I do suspect that at times I will post select ramblings, but I would like to try to write organized blogs on narrowed topics. So, I guess I will do both. What good would this blog be if didn’t write like I felt… I can’t always conform to my own prescribed boxes. My hope for this new blog is simply that I will write OFTEN and that blogging will lead to more a standardized practice of writing in general. I hope to find true love.  just kidding. and i hope to be a famous blogger. kinda kidding. and I hope to meet some people and share some writing, okay that one I mean…

So, to introduce myself and because old habits die hard… here’s some of the forbidden rambling:

When can you tell that it is YOU who needs to change? It’s a natural human instinct to run from and fight against some forms of criticism. Who looks in the mirror each morning, saying “what can I change about myself today?” We all want to be better at something. We all want good friends and good relationships in general, but how much of ourselves can we change before it’s too severe a compromise?

I do not have an answer. I can quote Emerson, “To be great is to be misunderstood.” But not all those who are “misunderstood” are great… you know? What I know about myself is that I am not perfect. I also know that I am capable of change and capable of loving someone more than my own foolish nightmares. My devotion to the people that I care about is tightly intertwined with my wants. I want to carry those that I love with me through life, all my soulmate friends, all those who I would take a proverbial bullet for… Did you know that I would take a bullet for you?

Perhaps there is danger is seeking affirmation, seeking neat endings to messy misunderstandings. People aren’t what they should be. Everyone needs to change. But everyone also needs a good group of people to tell you not to change. Everyone needs to hear I’m sorry… and once they’ve heard it.. it makes it easier for them to say it the next time. Lately, I’m the apologizer… to many. Does that mean that I’m diseased with some bad-friend-who-can’t-get-it-right plague? What is this degringolade of friendship, this doubt?

Friend, I am so vain. I stare in the mirror of introspection daily. I see with crisp perception all of the things about me that you don’t like, and I support your argument because it is you who is arguing. Supporting you means that I have to agree with you even when it’s against me, but if you find fault with me why can’t it be with my self-analysis, my lack of confidence, my poor attention span, how my new apartment is still in boxes after a month, or that I sometimes don’t floss… Why do you choose my frankness, my stern sincerity, my obscene humor, my intensity, all the crap that makes up the bulk of why I’m different and lovable in the first place? Furthermore, why can’t you say aloud why you stopped saying hello? I wouldn’t bite. I would listen, then fight you on it, then explain myself, then compromise, and then buy you a sno-cone.

If I’m sorry is what you want, then I’ll give it to you on repeat like broken record. I can say this to you every day if that is what you want. But I want someone to look at me and see the eternal optimist behind the cynicism. Can you offer me that, friend? If I say I’m sorry, can you tell me you wouldn’t ever want me to change, not really anyway? There would be something indestructible to a friendship like that, don’t you think?