Some inspo for your weekend today. This one tears me up every time. And you know what’s even more glorious? I actually know that I have friends who would – and have – rush to my rescue like this, to support me through dark times. If you’re one of those friends, THANK YOU. I love you wholeheartedly <3 <3 I am one super lucky human bean.
IDK about you but last week I was in a really negative headspace, and it’s lingering through to this week (though today has been better and honestly a lot of it is probably food-caused, urgh). So I really needed a reminder that not all humans, particularly Famous Ones, are walking garbage fires.
So. In the interests of buoying my own spirits, and hopefully also yours, I present for your personal edification, Humanity Humaning Well. IDK, I feel like this needs to become a regular feature, tbh. It was pretty awesomely perspective changing to do the research for this 🙂
Any good news on your end? Any examples you’ve seen or can actively find rn of humans humanning well? Please feel free to share! 🙂 🙂
Okay so I said last week’s post was previewing for this one. Content warning: if you’re an easily-offended white person, don’t click.
Otherwise, enjoy the hilarity 😉 Happy weekend!
Just take five minutes to skim over this list. I promise, you’ll find AT LEAST one thing there that will make you glad you did 🙂
Go on. Click. You won’t regret it <3
Consider this context for next Friday’s post 😀 But also, I do just love the song and the video clip. There’s a lot going on here, and I’ve actually used this several times as a class resource – and if you’re feeling SUPER KEEN, since there’s a weekend coming up and all and you might find yourself with some FREE TIME (whoa no way what even is that?!), I’ve included the worksheet I use for classes below 😀 😀 hehe.
Another poem this week, probably the last one for a while. The title pretty much sums it up, but when I first heard this several years ago it really stuck with me, and then there was a conversation in our car (not involving me) that kind of collided with it, and I wrote a poem in response – which, I guess I’m going to post below?
Happy on-coming weekend. Hold your loved ones close; reach out to a stranger and show them you care <3
A moving vehicle
ten over eighty
on a sunbright morning
a steel grey afternoon
a shining, shimmering night.
A husband, thirty-five;
A son, three and five
weeks, back seat critic.
And me. Observer.
“Go faster, Daddy! Go faster!”
Ten, we recall, over eighty.
“Can’t, son. The policeman
would tell me off.”
A pause. Consideration.
“The policeman would tell you to stop?”
“Yes, son, he would. And
if a policeman tells you to stop,
what do you do?
“You stop, Daddy.”
“You do. The policemen are there
to help you.”
crumpling in my chest
my son is white.
the policemen will always help.
Can’t have slam poetry month without some Omar Musa :3 This one’s from his latest book of poetry, Millefiori, which is as glorious as his first two volumes (The Clocks, currently out of print, and Parang) but is somewhat of a departure from his usual subject matter. The Clocks and Parang are more about culture, race, socioeconomics, inspiration… whereas Millefiori is about love and heartache. It’s love poetry with teeth 🙂
Enjoy, and enjoy the up-coming weekend <3
IDK, I think this is just going to be slam poetry month, ‘kay? ‘Kay. Anyway, this one’s lovely, and touches on a topic that fascinates me both as an English teacher and as a trained linguist. We tend to have this view that anyone who can’t speak ‘proper’ English is lower, defective in some way. But this erases the totally glorious truth, which is that NO ONE speaks English ‘properly’, because what do you even MEAN by English? American? British? Australian? Singaporean? East coast Australia or West coast Australia? Texan or Alaskan? Southern British or northern British? Etc. Like, linguistically speaking, there is NO One True English.
This kind of attitude also totally ignores the fact that different variations of English, even when they ‘mangle’ the original words/grammar/whatever, still have really strict rules themselves. I am, for example, totally fluent in internet English, which is a totally different dialect to spoken east-coast Australian English; while it might superficially seem like phrases such as ‘It me!’ are just being blatantly ungrammatical, actually there’s a new set of grammar rules at play which mean that while it’s totes fab to say ‘It me!’ (or ‘totes fab’), it’s NOT grammatical in internet-English to say ‘It amazing!’ (at this point; internet English even more so than any other variant, dialect, pigeon, etc, changes FAST).
There is no One True English. People who speak other variants aren’t dumb, they’re just using a different grammar system. And unless we’re all supposed to go back to speaking Old English (Wes þū hāl!), well, grammar systems change with time and geography. That’s just Language. So we can rail about the ‘declining standards of English due to the internet/migrants/texting/whatever’, or we can celebrate the awesome creativity of the human mind, and appreciate different styles of grammar. I think you know which side I’m on 😉 😀 hehe.
Anyway, rant over, enjoy the vid, and your soon-coming weekend!! <3
It’s Friday the 13th and I refuse to think of that as anything but lucky. This is totally not related to today’s video, but there you are. Anyway, I feel like we could all use a little encouragement these days, and a reminder that YOU, YES YOU are awesome 🙂 So here you are: a slam poem just for you, to remind you that you’re amazing <3
Sometimes, you just really needed to hear it.
My kids are 5 and 2 right now, and they are both clever little beans, and super active. My son particularly is a little perpetual motion machine, and always has been.* So for the last two years, they’ve been doing swimming lessons as yet-another-way-to-try-to-expend-their-energy-and-keep-them-sufficiently-occupied. Y’all know my schedule tends to be packed so tight I can a) barely breathe and b) never afford catastrophes because they throw MY CAREFUL BALANCE OUT…
…but this is not, actually, a story of something that went wrong. The schedule comment is merely to contextualise, and to note that by the time I hit 6pm on the weekday whereon they have their lesson, I’m frequently a little frazzed. The actual lesson itself is fine (once I get over the almost-requisite being-5-minute-late part), but since I get in the water with the 2-yr-old, it means three swimmer-clad bodies to deal with at 6:30pm when we are all tired, in a crowded public change room where we often have to queue for the kids to use the open showers (though at least this means they don’t need a bath at home, and serves as their weekly hair-wash if I don’t get to it at any other point in the week 😀 😀 #MultiTaskingFTW), and then, because my kids are slooooooooooooooooow and everything is a biiiiiiiiig deeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaal when you are 5 and smart and tired, we usually have to queue for a cubicle so I can also strip off and change while they change, and look, it’s not a problem because we’ve been doing it for 2 years and have our routine down to a fine art (requisite tears x 2 + 2 x optional bonus rounds of tears included**), and it works, and I wouldn’t not do it because they both LOVE swimming (baby especially, who’s been swimming since 14 weeks*** o.O) and they need to learn to swim (this is such a compulsory Australian skill that most primary schools include a course of swimming in their sports curriculum each year), but it’s… a juggle. You know. I don’t mind it, it’s definitely not horrible, but it’s not the most relaxing 25 minutes of my weekly life.
So this week, I was going through all these motions as usual, had queued for a cubicle, and was just ducking in, and another mother came up to me.
I’ll admit, my heart sank a little, because the last time this happened it was a mother very politely and with much embarrassment on her part informing me that my son had been pushing her son into the pool >.<
But this lovely woman, looking – let’s admit – not a whole lot less frazzled than I, leans in close, and goes:
I just wanted to say, I think you do an amazing job.
I blinked, stunned, managed to beam and thank her appropriately, locked myself in my cubicle, put the baby on the fold-down table and instructed my son to set up under it, as usual, and promptly burst into tears.
I hadn’t been feeling especially frazzled this week, not compared to some weeks. And I hadn’t had a bad day at work, and I wasn’t feeling like I was teetering on the edge of sanity like I sometimes am. But I had managed to accidentally hurt Mr 5’s arm as I directed him out of the showering area, and the general frustrations of trying to wash, dry and dress two baby octopuses with Strong Opinions and Independences of their own in a crowded space on a tight schedule is always… well. You know. It is what it is.
And so even though I hadn’t been going, ‘Man, I could really use some encouragement right now’, apparently I still needed it, and it really hit home, and I am so, so grateful to this woman.
The take-home point is this: Modern Western consumer culture particularly sets us up to be in competition with each other – as men, as women, as non-binaries, as teens, as adults, in the workplace, in comparing homes, in our hobbies, in our social media. People who are united, gracious and forgiving of each other, always striving to encourage and lift each other up – these are not the kind of people who are susceptible to advertising, propaganda, consumerist values that drive corporate business. It’s not in the best interest of the people who currently run our society for us to encourage each other.
But we need it. Oh, how we need it. For the sake of our self esteem, our sanity – and, simply, our humanity.
So do something rebellious with your life: Become an encourager.
I bet you’ll be amazing at it <3 <3 <3
* Like, always. He nearly cracked one of my ribs in utero o.O
** One from Mr 5 at some point because he wasn’t listening to what he was supposed to be doing and got hurt (slipped on the wet floor, bumped his head, got soap in his eyes, take your pick), one from the baby when I wash her hair, and optionally up to another one round each while actually in the change cubicle because Tired and Wet and Getting Changed Is Hard).
*** Initially as a) something to do while Mr then-3 began lessons and b) as a bonding activity with my sister, who was also on maternity leave at the same time 🙂