First Person Limited

Noah

If I had one day left on this earth, I would spend it with Noah.

I love you more, Little Man. And I'll be Home soon.

XOXOXOXO

Pivot's Questionnaire

At the end of each episode of Bravo's "Inside the Actor's Studio", host James Lipton poses a series of probing questions to his featured guest. These questions, though acredited to Bernard Pivot, famed interviewer and host of the  french tv hit "Bouillon de Culture", actually originated in a questionnaire by Marcel Proust.  As a writer and thinker, Proust wanted to use words and anylysis of words to probe deep into the human psyche and to encapsulate the meaning of life and of individual existence. Both Pivot and Lipton adopted these questions to probe at the  individual motivations and beliefs of cultural icons (celebrities). Perhaps they, like Proust, want to know how the beliefs of those individuals speak to our society at large. Perhaps not.

Though I hardly think that answering this same questionnaire will unveil my psyche to you, I feel compelled to do so. I will wholly admit that myinspiration for posting my answers  here comes from a former acting student, one who is brilliantly talented in his own right and who has always wanted to know my answers. He claims that they will help him understand my "art".

What follows is true  and is for KB.

1) What is your favorite word? Encyclopedia.
2)What is your least favorite word?  Pussy.
3) What turns you on? A passion for people and discovery, charisma, kindness, bright eyes behind dark-rimmed glasses.

4)What turns you off? Intolerance. Disrespect. Apathy.
5) What is your favorite curse word? Fuck.
6) What sound or noise do you love?  Shared laughter, high-heels clicking on pavement, choral sining.
7) What sound or noise do you hate? Sirens.
8) What profession, other than your own would you like to attempt?  National Geographic Jornalist.

9)What profession would you not like to do? Janitorial work.
10) If Heaven exists, what would you like God to say when you arrive at the pearly gates?  I've read your stuff. It's amazing.

Tip?

At home in Westlake tonight, I dined alone. I ordered Chinese food from a new restaurant and the delivery "boy" was a kid from my highschool class.

"Long time, no see," he said as he took my money.
"Uh, yeah. How are you?" I was stunned, but polite.
" Did you graduate?" Please tell me you don't mean from highschool, I thought.
"Yes."
"Cuz I'm on the 5 year plan. Where'd your graduate from?"
"American University--agonizing pause--in Washington DC".
"I'm...uh...at...Cleveland State... yeah".
"Good for you."  ( Was that patronizing? I meant it to be nice.)
"Are you, uh, working?" (as opposed to doing what?)
"Yes. [ I'm a teacher but I'm not going to tell you that because this conversation is painful enough]
" Cool. bye."
"Nice to see you."

He stuffs change into my hand without counting it and runs to the car. He pulls out of the driveway so fast that I can't give him a tip. Should I feel guilty or glad? Does it matter that the food was cold and awful?

On Courage

I seem to have a mantra with my students: "Be brave". Whn they come to me seeking advice about how to ask out a girl9or guy) they've been pining over, I smile and say "you've just got to do it'. When they ask how to combat bullies or confront teachers, I say " speak up". When they ask how to imrove their writing, I launch into long (unintentional) tangents  about how writing is an act of courage.  Even truth veiled in fiction is bittersweet and hard to create. the veil is thin; it still has to be real. I tell then to go deeper, to plunge under the surface of character or self and to analyze. I tell them to be brave.

They ask me : how?

I give a brillian, convincing argument for laying one's self on the line, for taking risks and yet most of the risks I am encouraging in them (writing aside) are ones which I run from.

What kind of teacher does it make me if I am not nearly as brave as I seem?

I think of myself as one who takes risks often: I move from place to place all alone, I seek adventure. As long as I am alone. I can never lay my heart bare for fear it might be trampled on. Instead, I run--body, soul and heart intact--into my next adventure. pLaces cannot hurt me, I think. Only people can.

And yet, I tell my students over and over again to be brave.

Last night, my car broke down on I-80/90 heading west. I was on my way home from work, driving the twice daily commute from exit 49 in LaPorte to 77 in South Bend when the " check engine" light came on, the car stalled and shimmied and I had to pull to the side of the road.  Like a kid in her first car accidnet, I was shaking and terrified. The first thing I did was call my dad.

Shortly thereafter, I called AAA and then one of my student's parent's called me, distressed over her childs academic and social success. Not wanting to postpone this vital parent teacher communication, I attempted to explain the situation at hand and to calm this parent down while stalled on the side of the road, waiting for the tow truck.

Teaching first, towing later.

I'm still embarassed that I called my dad first and all at once grateful that he could assist me sometimes, alltimes in life, it's nice to have a helping hand: One more brain, one more car. One more moment where dad can rescue me even if I cringe while he does it.