Maybe a fighting career is not for me

When I finished college track, I still looked for some sort of competition, some way to stay in shape and show off how great shape I was in.

For a while, I considered joining the St. Louis Slam (woman's football team).  They were really good and I knew the man who was the coach and loved his coaching ability and style.

That idea faded away.

Then I wanted to get into some sort of martial arts.  I looked at muay tai, kickboxing, mixed martial arts, and more.

That looked really promising.  And I have pretty pointy elbows that I just know could do some damage to the side of an opponents head.  I was in pretty good cardio shape and was really strong, so it was just a matter of learning the skills.

That along with being able to take a punch.  And a kick.  And be able to handle pain and still fight through it.

But, I'm a woman.  And I believe that the fact that we have ovaries (and all that comes with them) makes us able to stand a lot more pain than your typical man.

Even though I am in my thirties now, I still some times dance with the idea of fighting as a way to make a living.

This past weekend I watched a Strikeforce match between "Rowdy" Rhonda Rousey and Miesha Tate.

Rousey was the challenger and Tate the reigning champion.  Prefight there was some trash talking and some getting in faces.

This made for some animosity prior to the fight and some predictable commentary.

The prefight stats come up and I see that the ladies are in some really good shape and comparable in size.  (Though much shorter than me and about the weight I was when I was in shape and competing in track.)

The fight begins.

They throw punches like they really mean it and Rousey gets Tate in an arm bar.  Tate is able to some how get out of the arm bar (something I have seen few men do in similar fights).

Impressive.

The fight goes on.  The commentators mention that Rousey has never had a fight prior to this one that lasted more than one minute into the first round.

Later in the first round Rousey puts Tate into another arm bar.

Tate again tries to get out of it, but Rousey keeps at her arm.

She keeps tightening it and pulling it and pulling it and tightening it, and even twisting it a bit.

But the reigning champion refuses to tap out of the fight and end it.  She keeps trying to turn out of the arm bar like she did earlier in the fight.

Soon enough, I gasp.

It takes a lot to  disturb my insides and make chills run through my arms.

Rousey made all of this happen.

She had Tate in such an incredible arm bar (that Tate refused to submit to) that Tate's arm is bent in a way that is not even fathomable.  (I'm not sure the picture really does it justice.)

If you take your arm and hold it parallel to the ground and let the arm flop at your elbow so that it is at a 90 degree angle... that is how her arm was bent.

Only difference is that hers was bent backward.

I give it up for both women.  Rousey was unbelievable in her fighting, and Tate never gave up until her elbow was completely dislocated or broken.

If I ever needed something to convince me that maybe, just maybe, this sort of competition is not for me.  It was Tate's elbow.

I guess, I'll stick with my yoga and the occasional body weight exercises.

Let's step up our communication game together

There are so many things wrong with how people communicate.  I know that I am not the best communicator; I have accepted that, and am working on the things I know I can improve upon.

Part of my improvement is due to the fact that I have been told some of my faults - sometimes directly, sometimes indirectly - and I want to work to be better than I was yesterday.

I guess, we as a society, need to become better at letting people know what is not ok so they know they need to improve.

I have had students who have come to my classes using texting-speech in formal writing.  I am fine if they do this when they take notes, but directly inform them that that is not the way to write in a formal setting.

I have received emails from superiors (especially at my old school) that were so incoherent and full of errors that it really made me lose respect for the person.

Friends have told me that this is not just a problem in education jobs.

The other night at dinner, brother-from-another-mother told tales of having to edit valedictorians' papers in college.  These papers were so horrible that Bio had put so many red marks on the paper that he decided to stop at page two or three because he was starting to feel bad for his friend.

And, rightly so, he was questioning how this person who wrote so poorly could have been a valedictorian.

Bio also had stories of emails he has received at work that were many lines long, but had no punctuation besides commas.  No periods, no semicolons, nothing but commas.  Just a really long, run-on sentence (or perhaps it was more of a marathon-sentence).

Bio's father, a sociology professor, said he has received assignments turned in where college students wrote 'RU' for 'are you' on formal assignments.  I have seen high schoolers write the same way and have let them know that this is not ok.  (By the way, aren't formal essays not supposed to be written in second person?)

Kid Sis #3 had the kicker for the night.

She said that earlier in the afternoon, someone at her workplace had given a presentation that consisted of repeated grammatical errors on a PowerPoint.  She wrote down, verbatim, what the woman wrote and said in her presentation.  (As you view the picture, also note the remnants of the delicious Oreo cheesecake in the background.)

Bio, #3, and I decided that we might let 'laision' slide since it is a foreign language and may cause a lot of other people difficulty.

Plus, there is so much more that is wrong with this picture.

So many questions:

• Why does she work for a company that focuses on engineering work, and she can't spell the word?
• Why does she not use spell check on her presentations?
• If she does use spell check, did she override the correction and add 'engenerring' to the dictionary?
• Why did she really think it was ok to say 'conformaning' out loud?
• How has she gotten so far not knowing how to spell these basic words?
• How has she gotten so far not knowing that the word is 'conforming' and not 'conformaning'?
• What was everyone thinking as she repeatedly had these terms on the slides she presented?
• Did some one approach her afterward, pull her aside, and correct her, or are they going to continue to have to deal with this sort of spelling and presenting for many more presentations?

I know I am not the most perfect writer (I'm sure this post has some errors that I overlooked).  But I am trying.

I'm really going to need people to step up their game when it comes to communication.

And I need people to step up their game to help others know what they can improve with their communication so they don't write like they are texting.

Then maybe they will be 'conformaning' better to their surroundings.

I don't trust people I work with

Where are you lacking trust in your life?

I don't know that I truly trust anyone that I work with.

I really mean that.

Last year, I had the most random people asking me about the horizontal move I hadn't even completely confirmed after I had only asked a few questions and told about three people about my idea.  I mention a conversation I have with a student or a colleague to one or two people and pretty soon it is practically headline news in the school.

I have a colleague who told one other person something that was going on in her classroom and in their next department meeting it was brought up in front of all 15+ members of the department.

Another colleague is thinking of starting a business (not quitting her teaching job), mentioned it during lunch and has started selling her product to some people.  Now people in the other departments of the school are asking if it is true that she is going to be leaving the HS.

I slipped up a bit at the start of the year sharing some personal information with some colleagues because they seem genuine.  And perhaps they are.  I wanted to share with the new bunch I was working with.  But, now some of what I said is sometimes brought up and sometimes used to judge something else that I am doing.  I don't dislike them.  I just try to keep everything business these days.  If I am going to be doing something extra, I know not to let it be known to people until the time is right.  I try not to talk about outside of school things with people at work.

Most of the people are nice.  A lot of the people are just really gossipy.

Work is work.

Outside of work is outside of work.

I think that my last school was truly an anomaly.

I will never again work with a group of truly genuine, truly awesome ladies and gentleman.  Most of us started there together, were able to hang outside of school together, were able to share without wondering if things would get to the wrong person who would then hear the message, I believe we were friends inside and outside of the school.  I loved chilling in the Humanities Office!  And so many great happy hours!  I wish we could all work together again at a different place.

I miss our days together.

But, I am glad we have all left that facility and have been able to use the challenges that came with that place to make us better people and better people in education.

But I doubt that I will have that sort of experience again.

I only hope that one day there will not be such a prevalent lack of trust for the teachers and administrators that I call my colleagues.

Who do you trust?! Hubba, hubba, hubba!

Though maybe it is better this way; it keeps me on my toes about what I say and who is around when I say it.

I always picture people I'm not quite certain about reciting the Jack Nicholson Joker quote when they begin talking with me.  "And, now, folks, it's time for Who Do You Trust!  Hubba, hubba, hubba! Money, money, money!  Who do you trust? Me?"

The question at the start of this post is from all.things.fadra.  Today is Sunday.  I have been absent from Stream of Consciousness Sunday for two weeks, but am back on it today.  Click the link or the badge to learn more about this five minute writing process.

Dodging practice

A few days ago the weather fabulous!  I believe it was close to 70.  Friday morning it was still pretty nice when I left for work.

As I drove north to school, the clouds opened up.  It even started hailing a bit.

By the time practice arrived, it was in the 40s, winds were high and the windchill was in the low 30s.

What a difference a day made, right?

Practice went the same way.

The previous days were nice, but on Friday, I had over 20 athletes not in attendance.  Some maybe assumed that we didn't have practice (I haven't given the track-practice-is-never-cancelled speech yet).

Others, perhaps skipped out to get ready for a school sponsored event that evening.

What was that event?

Dodgeball.

Yeah, I don't understand why they would need to prep for that, either.

I don't punish kids with running since that is part of our sport, but the place where we practice has some wonderfully steep, fairly long hills that will welcome some lunges and bear crawls.

For at least 45 minutes.

Their legs will be begging for some running.

And they will wish they had dodged that missed practice.

My kids are maturing faster than NeNe Leakes

The other day I was watching RHOA.  I haven't seen the show at all this season until these episodes where the ladies went to South Africa.

I was not surprised to see the regular tomfoolery arise despite the ladies vow to keep beef at bay.

What was pleasantly shocking was NeNe Leakes standing up and trying to stop two ladies from arguing loudly and aggressively with each other.  In her commentary she said that it was really awful to watch them screaming at each other and that for the first time, she realized how ridiculous she looks when she is arguing with people.

I'm not really sure why it took her so far into her adult life to know that as a grown woman she looks crazy yelling and screaming and sometimes even swinging on other grown women, but at least she finally had this belated revelation.

Perhaps, she can soon realize that she shouldn't take 10 full-sized suitcases with her when she travels for 10 days.  Or maybe that she should wear appropriate shoes instead of 4" stilettos when going on safari.

Today in school, there were two girls who got into a verbal altercation over some drama.

It was really great to have two girls trying to keep them apart and prevent it from becoming physical.

It was even better that the two girls breaking it all up were girls who were usually the ones in who are in the middle of intense verbal fights.

Even better that these kids have started this change so much sooner than NeNe.

LyzaDora the Artist is amazing in many ways

Yesterday, as I scanned through updates on FB, I came across one that really touched me in both a positive and a negative way at the same time.

Not only do I have a brother-from-another-mother(and father), I also have two sisters-from-another-mister(and missus).  I love them to death.  I don't see or talk with them nearly as much as I think about them, but they hold a large place in my heart.  I have so many happy memories of them and even now, years after we have lived in the same city, when we get together again, there are joyous moments and inside jokes that abound and keep us laughing almost incessantly.

LyzaDora is such an amazing person.  From a young age, she was always making me laugh with her antics, stories, and just cool persona.

As she has gotten older, I have truly come to admire her for her academic success, her still being super cool, and especially for her career aspirations.

She has become such a successful make-up artist/hair stylist/wardrobe stylist that she has worked at major national events and worked on major celebrities.  She is working on her own studio and continues to grow and do bigger and better things.

She is stunning visually with and without makeup.

This is why I was saddened by the FB post from her sister yesterday.

Looking at my sister's accomplishments and in tears thinking of all the mean kids in elementary and especially middle school that bullied her because she looked different or wasn't as developed as they thought she should be. I wish they could see the Swan she has become. I wish 12 year old Lyzadora saw the 29 year old Lyzadora. I wish all the 12 year old "Lyzadora's" could see their 29 year old selves. I'm so proud of my sister.

It is so horrible that so many young girls who look different than what "the masses" deem beautiful go through periods of low self-image. 

On Oprah's Oscar Special, Viola Davis said that she is just now feeling comfortable enough in her own skin to feel beautiful - that she was put down by so many people (even while in the biz) that she had low self-esteem about her appearance.  Her husband had to convince her to let her natural hair shine and not wear a wig to cover it in public.  Her husband had to convince her that she deserved to be treated well.

It is so awful that society can have this affect on people.  

I have suffered this, too.  As a kid, I was called so many negative names that sometimes still pop into my head.  Even though some told me that I would be beautiful when I became older, that does not really mean much to an adolescent.

The FB post made me sad for these reasons.  Also because, I don't think that I personally have ever told LyzaDora to her face that she is among the most beautiful people I have had the visual pleasure of seeing.  Yes, I have liked some images on FB, and have commented positively about some pictures, but I have never told her so she can hear it with her own ears.  I never told her when she was young, either.

Seeing her grow inspires me to want to do more of this verbal uplifting and I have strived to do this with young girls I teach and coach.  I don't want them to think that their looks are everything, but I also want them to know that just because they don't look like "the masses" that people typically consider beautiful, there are a ton of people in other parts of the world who are considered beautiful that they share features with.  I know many may not believe me, but perhaps their older selves will look understand and become more confident and successful.

The post delighted me because she is truly a swan who continues to develop more and more into an even more wonderful woman in more than just her beauty.

I cannot wait until either I go down to Houston and see her in person again, or she comes up for her brother's graduation in May so that I can see her again.

I hope that at some point, if she hasn't done so yet, she will see the old bullies and naysayers and simply tell them, "Google me, baby!" so they can see all her accomplishments and all the great work and beauty she has shared with the world.

LyzaDora is more than a fabulous artist, she is an amazing, inspiring person who moves me (even from afar) with her compassion, her genius, her laughter, and her spirit.

My parents are Roosters

There have been tales of late about Tiger-moms who really push their children to achieve and to do better.

If I have to pick a title for my Nigerian-born parents, I guess it is going to be that they are Rooster-parents.

When I go to Nigeria, there is always the freshest of foods.  And I don’t mean Whole Foods fresh.  I mean that the pineapples are grown by my father, the oranges are grown in the yard, the goats are in your yard in the morning and on your plate in the evening (though not mine since I don’t like goat).  It is the same with the chickens.  I have never tasted chicken as good as the chicken I have had in Nigeria.  So fresh and so clean, clean.

The only annoying thing about the chickens and roosters is that they stay in your yard until you are ready to eat them or give them to a friend or family member as a gift.  The problem is not that they get in the way or that I trip over them.  

When I was a kid and read children’s books with tales of farms and the different animals on those farms, they always said that chickens and roosters crowed at the crack of dawn.

Maybe these authors had never really lived on a farm or maybe the chickens and roosters in Nigeria had on night vision goggles and thought it was brighter than it actually was.  

All I know is that their cock-a-doodle-dooing was a real problem for me many mornings as I tried to sleep.  They crowed way before the sun was even close to being near rising.

My parents are Rooster-parents for several reasons.

First, because when I lived in their house, my mother never let us sleep in on Saturdays or Sundays.  She either woke us up deliberately to start cleaning the house, or woke us up making phone calls to people.  I don’t know why it is that she can talk in a regular voice, even a soft voice when she wants to discipline us in public without people realizing it, but when she gets on the phone to someone in Nigeria, she talks as though she is yelling through one of those can-string-can phones that children concoct.  It wasn't even just mornings that she would awaken us.  There would be nights when we may have missed a dish or not cleaned the counter after doing dishes and she would wake us in the middle of the night to make us do it.

She and my father are Roosters together because the way they stay on their children reminds me of the peck-peck-pecking that chickens do when they walk and when they eat.  Throughout school they were consistent about checking on our grades.  They didn’t make sure that we were passing, because not passing was not an option.  Instead  there were checks to see how many As we had.  Even now as Kid Sis #3 is in graduate school she told my father that she had a B on a paper and my father thought she was joking and insisted that she really got an A on the paper.

I have a master’s degree in Education, but my father still insists that I need to go back to school and earn a PhD in something.  He always pulls us aside and tells us that because we have Nigerian names, brown skin, and are women, we need to work harder and be the best and have the highest degrees.  Although I sometimes have a little person in my other ear telling me other wise and to just relax, a mini-Dad is always in one of my ears telling me this.

Although they are Rooster-parents, they are very compassionate toward each other and toward other people.  The last time we went out to dinner for my brother-from-another-mother(and father’s) birthday, they were absolutely adorable.  Their were five of us eating and we were seated at a six person table.  The waitress set up one side so that there was an empty seat in between the two chairs.  My parents were on that side and in the middle of dinner, my mother took her plate, her drink and her silverware and moved over closer to my dad.  And they were sharing their food.  They always love going to parties and dancing together which is also cute.

Possibly aiding to their delayed retirement, they have helped numerous family members and friends financially throughout their working lives which in addition to the advice and sometimes the shoulder they have given and been for people adds to the level of respect they are shown by people they know.

They have opened their doors for college students who come to the region to study.  These people have been able to count on my mother for tupperware containers of food to stock their fridges, a place to go for holiday dinners, a local person who will attend their graduations, and a place to do laundry.  They are so generous to these students, that some of them call her their second mother. 

These two people have instilled a lot in me that I don’t even realize all the time.  Some days I’ll just be in different situations and all of a sudden I’ll realize that I am doing something based on what they have told me or I’ll laugh at a story from one of the two, or I’ll flip the channels and see something interesting on CNN Headline News and remember the annoyances of how they will have that channel on for hours at time repeating the same stories every 15 minutes.  Every.  15.  Minutes.

They have made various sacrifices throughout their lives for their children and we appreciate them and what they have done and all that they have given to us.

So on this special leap day of February, I respectfully show a small part of my love and affection and appreciation for those two Rooster-parents who gave me life in so many ways.

Stretching and finishing lists... again

Day two of track practice, day two of finishing off everything on my to-do list.

I am happy that practice is going well so far.  I am happy that I am able to use some of the time I use to demonstrate technique to the students as a way for me to incorporate some cardio into my life.  I am also able to use the cool down portion of practice to stretch more (in addition to the morning (daily) and pre-bed (sometimes) stretching that I do).

I am a little sore in my back, but not quite as sore all over as I have been in past seasons after a few days and I attribute that to my morning stretching routine.

Finished my list, hopefully it can happen again

I have been so productive today that it is surprising.  I have finished so many things that I am actually sitting here with nothing on my list that I can still do.

Reasons why this is shocking and good:

• I have had a hard time waking up early the past few weeks, but today I was able to wake up early enough that I was even able to stop and see my parents (mother is going out of town tomorrow and with practice, I won't be able to see her tomorrow).
• I had a brilliant idea this morning during my stretching that may advance my life.  Have been stuck about that area for a long time, but I think I may be on to something.
• I have been so busy most days that I have not been able to make copies ahead of the day that I need them.  Today I am 4 days ahead and completely planned in one prep, 3 days in another prep, and 2 days in another prep.  Sweet.
• Today is the first day of spring practices.  I have already said that I am not as into it as I have been in previous years, but I still want to not look bad.  I have not been stressed about the season, despite that we don't have a track to practice on.  I have somehow managed to get everything together and things will hopefully work out well.
• I had a checklist of 13 things I wanted to accomplish today and all of them are ticked off.  That is unheard of.  That has never happened.  But today, somehow it did.

Hopefully, this is not a fluke and it continues for more days.

Yes, I still make lists on paper.  I am about to try out Evernote and Nozbe, but for now, I'm old school.

Kid Sis #1

Today it is all about Kid Sis#1 - she made me a big sister on this date years ago.

I remember so many fun times we had as children.

There were Barbies whose hair we decorated, braided, cut, and then realized that they were then useless since the hair would not grow back.

There were bike rides down the slope of the driveway that we saved for the "older siblings" since it was so steep.  Seriously, we didn't let Kid Sis #2 or #3 go to that part of the driveway because it was too much of a hill and we feared that they wouldn't make it back to the garage.  If you have been to my parents' home, you know that a) the ground must have seriously eroded that hill away or if that is not true, then, b) we were really small and weak to think that it was a hill, or c) we really just wanted to keep the fun to Big Bro and the first two girls of the family.

There were our fabulous, itchy fashion tights, which she clearly didn't find too uncomfortable since she could sleep in them at picnics.  I remember that she used to really love wearing dresses.  All.  The.  Time.  And, somehow, she was still cute even with her braids sticking straight up in the air.

There were fabulous times of keeping ourselves entertained while waiting for the parents to finish their meetings with the grown folks.  We could poke fun of the adults as they tried to drive out of driveways that seemed to have suddenly become obstacle courses "Left, left, straight, straight, STOP!"  There were parents' screams to long lost friends that we adopted when we would greet each other.  Oh, how I love all those adults that were in my life during my childhood.  There were discoveries in the 'creek' behind the house.  There were band trips, football games, and so many great track meets.

Winning state my senior year with my kid sister on the relay team with me was really something I will not forget.

There were more fun times than I can remember dancing, singing, playing with the new puppy, and just laughing.

So much laughing.

As time has gone on, she has grown into an adult that I love to laugh with.

I always smile on the first of the month when she sends me audio of the Bone Thugs song.  Laugh when she sends me audio from The Princess Bride.

Oh, all the movies and books.  We used to adore Fox Thirtaaay (why did that guy say 30 like that????) and all of its 80s/early 90s movies.  Each time the Joy Luck Club comes on, I have to send my sisters a text that "You, you have best quality heart."

So many special moments I share with her.

I remember the fear that was instilled in me when I was around 6 and thought I had seriously brought her close to death after a jump rope accident (note to all - if there are only two people, do not tie one end of the jump rope to a semi-stationary bike or else the bike may fall and bust open your kid sister's head).

Now, she is off being a doctor on the East Coast.  Still making me laugh.  Still being a beautiful person inside and out.

Still sharing stories of her revolutionary fashion/cosmetic ideas.  Still living it up with friends old and new.  Still building upon her fabulous fitness, though it has changed from cheering, sprinting, and dancing to more distance running.

Still a compassionate person, and fortunately, still making her famous cheesecake that makes me not even like other peoples' (besides Kid Sis #3 who learned from her).

One of our favorite songs to sing on siblings' birthdays: