7 Quick Takes, Awards, and Blog Flogging (Oh My!)

If you've been reading here for a while, or if you are one of the few people who bother to peruse my sidebars, you know that I have a little award I give out at times for blog posts that strike me as particularly marvelous.

Truth be told, there are some bloggers who, if I didn't have some self-control, would get an award for pretty much every post they ever write. Top of the list would be Julia at Julia {here be hippogriffs} because OMG that woman can write. Another would be Mike at Cry It Out because ditto (only he's a man, obviously: stay with me, peoples). Perhaps I should just give them overall blog awards. I'll think about that.

However, there are certain posts that will hit me as being superlative, and so I'll give out my Top Marks award. I should note that I have by no means awarded every deserving post, partly because my sidebar would get really really really long (like it isn't already) and partly because sometimes it just slips my mind. I know. I suck.

I have handed out a few lately, and then never actually acknowledged doing so in a post, although the recipients did get notified and their blogs and winning posts are up on the sidebar as winners. Then this week I was given two awards for my own blog, and adding it all up, I realized I have seven awards about which to write.

And it's Friday.

So here is a special Awards edition of 7 Quick Takes AND Flog Yo Blog Friday. Let's all give ourselves a hand!!!

--1--

My first Top Marks Award goes to a personal essay by Mike Adamick at Cry It Out. Mike does a brilliant job of recording events in his life as a stay-at-home father to Emmaline in the beautiful city of San Francisco. In "Something So Good," he relates and comments on his conflicting experience being a Good Samaritan one day, and along the way reminds us that good deeds are rarely as purely good and pure as we would like to think.

--2--

My second award goes to a personal essay by Beck at Frog And Toad Are Still Friends. Her brilliant May 3rd post "The End of Love" is not what it may sound like from the title. She writes with her usual eloquence tempered with humor about the finish line of lasting love, the kind that endures the years and trials and hardships to hold strong even when one's body becomes weak. Her last line puts into words what I hold in my own heart: "It is the end of love, this finish line, that I want, decades and decades more, worn and perfected, a water-smooth rock, something final and lasting in whatever forever there is."

--3--

The third award was given the very next day to a former schoolmate of mine with whom I reconnected through Facebook. Josh is now a pastor in California, and his blog The Outpost-It contains his musings on life and faith. His post "Gone Jogging ~ 5/4/10" evoked memories of Africa for me and brilliantly connects the physical experience of jogging with "getting going" in life.

--4--

Next up is a humorous poem by Monica at And I'll Raise You 5. As the mother of five kids, Monica is far too familiar with the ongoing battle to climb Mount Washmore. I couldn't have been more delighted to read her parody of Elizabeth Barrett Browning's famous "Sonnet 43" in the form of her June 1st post "Sonnet to my F***ing Laundry"--especially since I was just about to teach Victorian poetry (including that very poem) to my juniors! Monica's poem inspired an assignment for my students: they are to write a parody of their own for that sonnet by Monday. THEY ARE SO HAPPY. Thank you, Monica!

--5--

And just this morning, right in time to make it onto this post, Betty Herbert at The 52 Seductions wrote a post called "Monogamy: A Manifesto" about why monogamy is right for her and her husband--a thoughtful, eloquent post that speaks to the deliberate, daily, hourly choice of monogamy; not because of biology or religious ideology, but because it is THEIR choice. She put into words what I have felt and why this is also my choice.

--6--

I mentioned that I myself received some awards this week. The first came from Monica at And I'll Raise You 5, who was a little put out that I managed to get my award to her (though not mentioned in a post here) before she had a chance to give me one for a post she particularly loved. She came through, however, and so I now have received this:

for my "If I Were..." post. Monica wrote beautifully about award-giving in her post "Award Love". Thank you, Monica!!!

--7--

Finally, this morning I discovered that the lovely Wanderlust also gave me an award. This is one that will no doubt make my poor grandmother shake her head yet again over the profanity-laced awards that I keep getting (*ahem*) but such is life. Besides, it's MEDUSA and that just rocks. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've been connected with that particular mythological creature before...Why yes! I have.

Go figure.

So be warned, peoples! I've been given the

Thank you, Wanderlust!!! You're my kind of blogger.

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For more fabulous blogs (and perhaps even some awards), go check out the other blogs linked on Flog Yo Blog Friday at MummyTime. It's FUN!

Top Marks Award: Halloween #5

I've been following Beck over at Frog and Toad are Still Friends for ages. She is an excellent mommyblogger who brings humor and sentiment to her writing in turns.

Lately she's been writing very spooky versions of well-known children's books and TV shows in honor of Halloween. I love the first one, a take on Clifford the Big Red Dog, but it was today's story that officially wins a TeacherMommy's Top Marks Award for Fiction.

Go read it. It not only addresses the reaction EVERY parent has to the TV show "Max and Ruby" (Where the heck are the parents!?!?!), it will also make your skin crawl.

Congratulations, Beck! And keep 'em coming!

Top Marks Award: Rabbit Food and the Power of Words

Yesterday I posted about the power of words to heal and hurt. You may have picked up from all the very subtle hints that I had a few traumatic encounters with people along the way who hurt my heart with their words.

I want to let you know right now that my parents were never those people. I know many adults and students alike who have been damaged, sometimes irreparably, by their parents' actions and words. I am not one of them, thank God above. My parents were and are incredible people, and I consider myself richly blessed to be their daughter

But there were others whose impact on my life was anything but a blessing. The scarring was and is very real. Some are dragons I have already faced; others still loom.

Today I read a post by Mike Adamick over at Cry It Out: memoirs of a stay-at-home dad that struck a chord in its topic and timing. Mike's writing makes me shiver and even cry on a frequent basis, because he's brilliant and raw and incredibly transparent. Today I want to give his post Rabbit food is the best! a TeacherMommy's Top Marks Award for Personal Essay. Go read it. But fair warning: have a tissue on hand.

Congratulations, Mike! And keep them coming. Your writing means something real in a world too often filled with empty prattle.

Because It's the Little Stuff that Gets to You: Top Marks Award

Since I've been writing a good bit of poetry lately, I thought it might be fitting to give out my first ever Top Marks award for Poetry! And no, it's not for myself. I'm not quite lame enough to do that. Tempted, maybe, but not lame. I mean, if any of y'all want to give me an award for my writing, I will squeal like a schoolgirl and probably print out the post and award and put it on the refrigerator, but hey, it's not quite the same when you do it for yourself. Ya know?

But anywho, I came across a poem that not only speaks to me in its style (which is much like mine, down to the lack of capital letters) but also in its subject matter. Sarah at Momalom wrote a poem about the morning duties of motherhood that could have come straight from my own mind. So go read "Little Stuff." It's worth it. And congratulations, Sarah!

I Remember

Eight years ago today I was a brand-new certified teacher. A full year internship had only gone so far in preparing me for the overwhelming reality of being on my own, The Teacher, the one who had to plan and teach and do everything On Her Own.

Two weeks into the school year, 9-11-2001 took place. I was in class, a tenth grade American Literature class, and someone (I forget now which teacher) ran in and told me to put on the news. What we saw...my mind struggled to comprehend it. A plane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers. There were flames. There was chaos. The newscasters were debating what had happened, whether this was accidental or an actual attack.

A short while later the truth became apparent, as a second plane flew into the other tower. This could not be coincidence.

It took some time before the Towers began to collapse. We watched as the tiny specks of bodies flung themselves from ledges, apparently preferring that death to the one they faced inside. I don't want to know what brings a person to make that choice. We heard that thousands were still inside, trapped by the fires. We heard that policemen and firemen who had gone inside to rescue those they could were also caught.

And the Towers came down, among a great billowing eruption of flame and dust and screams, and all the proud security of the Greatest Nation on Earth tumbled down with them.

I remember the aftermath, as the evildoers became known, this faceless force of hatred that had flung its hand across seas and borders to strike at the heart of their Great Satan. I remember the Chaldean students, suddenly spotlighted by dint of dusky skin and Midde-Eastern descent, avoiding eye contact, sitting silently in corners. The crosses many of them wore around their necks suddenly appeared from beneath their shirts, shouting in wordless desperation that I am not one of Them! I am not your Enemy!

I remember trying to use the novels I was teaching at the time to raise discussions about appropriate reaction to Arab-Americans. My honors students were reading The Crucible: we discussed the Red Scare and its poison. My regular students were reading The Picture Bride: we discussed the shameful history of Japanese-American internment camps.

I remember the girl who asked, in all seriousness, But wouldn't it be safer if we did round up all the Middle Eastern people here and put them in camps?

I remember the stories of irrational fear, bigotry, hatred. The two Somalian men who were forceably ejected from an airplane when another passenger hysterically accused them of being terrorists--because they had dark skin and were speaking a different language. The Middle Eastern store owner who was beaten to death by youths from the neighborhood. The hate-filled graffitti sprayed over stores and houses owned by anyone who looked like they might be One Of Them.

I remember my parents telling us of the stream of Muslim visitors to their house in the Ivory Coast, all coming to convey their deep grief over this American tragedy and their revulsion at the blasphemy of committing such a crime in the name of Allah.

I remember...

And so do others.

I'm giving out my first "Top Marks" Award today, to Monica of And I'll Raise You 5. Her 9-11 post "Together" was so poignantly and beautifully written that it is deserving of Top Marks indeed.  Go read it. You'll be glad you did.

Congratulations, Monica!