Escapism

I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately.  It’s never been a subject I’ve dwelt on much before.  And, in fact, I scarcely knew what it really meant.  Yes, I had a vague inclination; I used my context clues and my critical thinking skills.  I majored not in History and minored not in English for nothing.

And why? Why has it been something that I knew of but did not know of?  That, I’m afraid, is the easy part.  I’ve never needed it.  There’s always been something going on in my life.  Seventeen years of schooling does that to you.  Even amidst of the hardships I’ve endured–especially over the last few years–I’ve always had something to keep me busy.  Most often it was school, but occasionally it was a semi-regular job, friend–the few I keep, that is–or even something as simple as the constant struggle of trying to perfect a story I had written.

But now, my life is left hanging.  I’m 22 years old, I have a college degree, a teaching license that allows me three different subject areas, and no means of my own income.  I have nothing that I can really call my own.  The few dollars that I earn in tutoring and babysitting is not enough for apartment rent.  My car is still in my father’s name.  My parents feed me.  Try as I might, I cannot find a job–full time or otherwise.  I feel like a parasite, a leech.

I do not write this to complain.  I do not write this to feel sorry for myself.  I have it lucky, and I know that.  My parents are gracious and loving, I could not ask for better.  I write this because, despite of my parents deep gratitude, I still feel like a burden.  In college I tasted independence, and I do not have that now.  I know that I am young with my whole life at my feet, and I so wish I could enjoy this time more.  I am trying to enjoy it.  Between looking for jobs, I try to think of ways I can take advantage of this new found and short lived (hopefully) freedom.  But it comes back to this: I have not the means.

If I had the means, I would travel everywhere from Alaska, to Disney World, to Germany.   I have missed Hawai’i since last summer; I was truly happy on her beaches and in her sunlight. I have the strong desire to see London again, and to relish it as I could not in my short 3 days there this Spring.  I would be giddy for a return to Italy.  To see Florence and Naples and Venice.  And oh, for Ireland.  My heart aches for those hills of Green.  For the bustling streets of Dublin.  Could it be only four months since I last saw them?  Since I sat in St. Stephen’s Green on the anniversary of one of my darkest days, only to feel love for a place I barely knew?

If I had the means,  I would experience history in a way I haven’t before.  I would see places where great, and terrible, things have happened.  I would soak in the importance of the events that changed the course of human events in this country.   How much better could I teach history when I have been to these places and seen these things?  When I have put myself in the places of those who lived them?

If I had the means, I would be in Boone for the Fall.  It is the best time of year in the Mountains.  The beauty.  The brisk air.  I love it.  I miss it.

If I had the means, I would be with my friends.  Those I left when I graduated.  Those who touched my life more than any other people I have ever known.

But alas, I have not the means.  And so, I turn to Escapism.

First, I find myself engrossed in early British history.  I have always, always loved studying Tudor history (Henry VIII, Queen Elizabeth).  Now, my favorite author, Phillipa Greggory, has released a new book about the history of the Plantagenets–the line of British Kings before the Tudors.  I find myself engrossed and overly interested in this new era that I have studied so little.  It gives me a new way of looking at a time I thought I understood.  The historian in me is ravenous.

Secondly, I have rediscovered Sherlock Holmes.  My senior year in high school I devoured all of the Sherlock Holmes stories: 4 novels and 60-0dd short stories.  For my birthday, I received the 1980’s Granada television series of Sherlock Holmes on DVD.  They are brilliant.  I am devouring them much as I did the originals.  And of course, my obsession doesn’t stop there.  I find free audio books for my ipod.  I bought a PC video game.  I am reading up on Conan Doyle’s life and the life of the fictional detective.  I imagine he was a real man.  I wish he was a real man.  I admire him from fiction.  I admire his era and once again wish that I had lived in Victorian England.  I escape into Sherlock Holmes.

Thirdly, I find solace in comedy.  Espcially one tv show in particular: Psych.  For one hour each Friday I am able to laugh at complete hilarity.  The episodes are a combination of pop culture, nonsense, and brilliance. I forget my troubles and my issues for this hour each week.  I am not me, but an observer.  It is a wonderful hour.

And so, I am discovering Escapism.  In this world where I am finding it hard to make things more forward and go right, I am finding worlds where I don’t have to be me.  I don’t have to stress and I don’t have to worry.   It is nice.  But what would be nicer?

Escaping Escapism.

The world does not change.

The burden of being a historian is this realization.  Now, I could take this blog to go into the deep details and reasons why history is important, why we must study it, and why this statement is a truth, but I will not bore you with that knowledge.  My goal right now is simply to point out an interesting observation.

Have you ever been on a tour of a Victorian Era Home? I myself, being a NC native, have been to the Biltmore Estate on many occasions.  In this house, as with most wealthy Victorian families, there is a Billiard Room.  This is the room where, after dinner in the Dinning Hall, the men would excuse themselves from the women and go to smoke cigars, play billiards, and discuss business and politics.  The women were not allowed in this room, nor, I imagine, did they really care to go into it.  They were left to their own sitting room to gossip, sew, play music, and, I imagine, to talk just as much politics and business as the men did.  Let’s be honest, it was the wealthy wife who kept the books on many occasions.  Take careful note, if you will, of the furnishings and decor of this particular room:

Now, flashfoward to 2009.  My parents had a couple friends come over for dinner tonight.  After the food was eaten, an interesting thing happened.  Me, my mom, and her friend were left in the dinning room to finish our conversation.  I played the piano for a while.  My dad and his friend retired to the room in our house that has been dubbed “the man cave.” They are currently sitting on the couch, watching pre-season football and talking…you guessed it…buisness and politics.  I went in there for a minute, and wouldn’t you know that my dad said, “What are you doing in here? This is the man room.”  I couldn’t help but laugh a bit on the inside.  Note, if you will, the furnishing and decor of said “man cave.”

I’m just saying, neither for good nor bad.

The world does not change.

I just wanted to write something, but I don’t have much to say.  I still don’t have a job; I’m still waiting for the legislature and the budget, and I still miss Ireland.  I’ve recently gotten back into Sherlock Holmes, both stories and the Jeremy Brett television series from the 1980’s.  I’m a bit sad that I’m not going back to App this fall.  Actually, really sad.  But alas, I’m a real adult now.  That is all.

Tomorrow is the Fourth of July and I am psyched.  I mean literally. I love this holiday so, so much! I mean, yes, the BBQs and family and beach and fireworks are awesome.  Hanging out with my family is my favorite thing ever.  But that’s not why I love this holiday.  I love the Fourth of July because I LOVE my county.  I am so proud of being an American, I can’t even express it.  You’ll notice that’s a common theme in my blogs.  Let’s remember that I started this blog because of my trip to Ireland, but don’t let that fool you.  Ireland was awesome, but America is my home, my heart, my county.  It’s true, I’m not fond of everything this county does or of all of its values; however, I still couldn’t be prouder of where I’m from.  I refer you to both my post from the last July 4th (Oh Say Can You See?) or a couple of my posts from Ireland, the first where I taught America to my Middle Students (2nd Paragraph from Where HAS the time gone?!) or when I saw the bodies in St. Michan’s Church Crypt of the Irish Rebels (last 2 paragraphs from Here at the end of all things).  Heck, just click on the tag “America” on the main page of my blog and read all of the ones I’ve posted under that name.  I love my country.

I have noticed that going overseas has one of two effects on the average person.  In general, both sets of people will acknowledge the separate cultures they visit and create an appreciate and respect for them.  The first sort of people will leave their heart overseas, converting their loyalty to where ever it is that they visit.  This bothers me.  Yes appreciate, yes respect, yes love, but remember your roots.  I don’t ask that immigrants to this country forget where they are from.  I except that a person who moves here from Ireland will become American, but also keep their connection to their home country.  There are exceptions to this that I’m just not going to get into right now, because this is not a political blog, so we’ll leave that aside for later.  The second kind of effect overseas travel will have is when a person goes to another country and falls in love with the culture they find there, but they come home with a greater love for their own nation.

That is what happened to me.  I’ve always loved being an American, but now I am downright exuberant of it.  I love my God and my country.  I even love North Carolina more than I did before (which is saying something as I have always loved my state).

However, it wasn’t just overseas travel that increased my love for America.  Teaching has done that to me as well.  It was one thing to study American history as a student and appreciate it, but another thing altogether to impart this knowledge and information to children and teens.  Suddenly, I’m drawing conclusions and making connections and explaining their importance.  It makes me so excited to be able to say, “Look at this! Look what our Founding Fathers did! It was unprecedented, unimaginable, and nearly impossible–but they did it.”  I even now more appreciate the story of Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address (which by the way, today is the anniversary of the last day of that battle).  Before Lincoln gave that short little speech people would refer to the United State as a plural and say things like “The United States are a democracy.” Afterwards, whether because of that speech or because of the war in general, people referred to the country as a singular, such as, “The United States is a democracy.”  Also, think about our pledge of allegiance: “I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands ONE nation UNDER God, INDIVISIBLE with Liberty and Justice for all.” Have you ever thought about why Indivisible is in the pledge? It seems an odd word thrown in there.  It’s because of the Civil War.  I am a Southerner, and I am proud of that too, but the Civil War almost destroyed what the Revolutionary war built.  Afterwards, we realized that we are a people Indivisible.  We are United under our God and our government to stand strong together.  Amen.

I want to end this blog by expressing again the importance of what happened during the American Revolution. Can you imagine what the Founding Fathers felt when they voted on and signed the Declaration of Independence.  Had they failed in their intent, and by all accounts they should have, they had just knowingly and willingly committed an act of treason to the crown.  They had signed their own death warrant.  THINK ABOUT IT!! The Declaration of Independence could have been the Death Warrant of the 56 men who penned their names to it.  For many of them, it was.  Doesn’t that give new meaning to what they did? Doesn’t that hit it home? It is sobering.  I know that I am sobered by it.  And yet, they had confidence in it.  So strong was the confidence of my personal favorite Father, John Adams, that he wrote back to his wife Abigail on July 3, 1776 of the events of July 2 (the day we should actually celebrate the Independence Day, as that was the day the Declaration was adopted) of a great celebration that would continue in this country for the rest of history.  I am posting it hear for you to read carefully.  Read between his lines.  He is thrilled, but also afraid.  He is confident, but also realistic.  But his forethought is incredible.  He knows he is right, and he knows what he had just done.

The Delay of this Declaration to this Time, has many great Advantages attending it. The Hopes of Reconciliation, which were fondly entertained by Multitudes of honest and well meaning tho weak and mistaken People, have been gradually and at last totally extinguished. Time has been given for the whole People, maturely to consider the great Question of Independence and to ripen their Judgments, dissipate their Fears, and allure their Hopes, by discussing it in News Papers and Pamphletts, by debating it, in Assemblies, Conventions, Committees of Safety and Inspection, in town and County Meetings, as well as in private Conversations, so that the whole People in every Colony of the 13, have now adopted it, as their own Act. This will cement the Union, and avoid those Heats, and perhaps Convulsions which might have been occasioned, by such a Declaration Six Months ago.But the Day is past. The Second Day of July 1776, will be the most memorable Epocha, in the History of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfire and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more.

You will think me transported with Enthusiasm, but I am not. I am well aware of the Toil, and Blood, and Treasure that it will cost Us to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend these States. Yet, through all the Gloom, I can see the Rays of ravishing Light and Glory. I can see that the End is more than worth all the Means, and that Posterity will triumph in that Day’s Transaction, even though We should not rue it, which I trust in God We shall not.

God Bless America.

It’s been awhile, but I am feeling the need to post again.  As a social studies teacher, this may shock you, but I have stopped watching the news.  I am fed up with the media and what is portrayed on their stations.  With all of the news or whatnot that’s out right now, I feel the need to express just exactly when I’m tired of hearing about:

1) Michael Jackson. I’m sorry he’s dead, really I am, but let’s move on.  There are way more important things out there right now in this world than obsessing endlessly over the death of a fallen star.

2) Jon and Kate Plus 8. Or as I am calling them now “Jon and Kate plus 8 multiplied by paparazzi minus Jon divided by lawyers.” It not only makes me sad, but all this talking about it is, I believe, the root of everything.  Leave the poor people alone. And that’s all I’m saying

3) Barrak Obama as celebrity. He is the president of this country.  I could care less what show he went to with Michelle in NYC.  He does not need to be on E! but on CSPAN.  Stop putting him in the same category as Brangelina or the Jonas Brothers.  He is the president and I’d like to hear more about his policies than his swimsuit color choice.

4) The Recession/The Economy.  Would you like me to give you a simple overview how this whole recession thing started? Step One: before this county was technically in a recession, the media was whining about it.  Step Two: People freaked out.  Step Three: People stopped spending money.  Step Four: Places where people would have normally spent their money had to shut down.  Step Five: Other people lost their jobs.  Step Six: Those people stopped spending money.  Step Seven: The United States Government bought Chevrolet with the tax monies of those people who can’t afford to buy a car.  Ta da. Yes, it sucks, but seriously, stop talking about it.  When it gets to the level of the Great Depression, let me know.  Though if you’d watch MSNBC, they’ll tell you it’s already there.  For shame media.

5) The Phrase “How’s the job hunt going?”.  There is a hiring freeze in my school system. No one is hiring, no one is interviewing.  Our dear state government and governor can’t tell which way is up, much less plan a budget for next year—because it’s more important to spend money keeping the education lottery going rather than to spend money on keeping jobs for teachers.  I don’t have a job yet.  I’ll let you know when I do.

6) Twitter.

These are not, by far, the only things I’m tired of, but they are the biggies right now.  This weekend is the Fourth of July.  This holiday means so much more to me now that I’ve been in Ireland.  I love America more than I can express so I want to hear more about the good things in this country and those I can be proud of.  I want to hear about soldiers who are bravely doing their duty.  About families who are working for themselves to beat this economy.  About the politicians who are doing more than cheating on their wives. I want to know what is stimulating and thought provoking.  There needs to be more that encourages people to think, not sit mindlessly by and let the rest of the world pass.  I am seeking a better way.

I know my blog has been long, detailed, and thick, so I thought that I would just give the short version of everything that I did while I was there.  Granted, this as just a much as a reference for me as it is for you…

(28 March) Met Nick, Rachel, & Kathleen at the Tourism Center in Dublin and walked around the city with them.  We started at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin Castle, Trinity College, and walked down through town to Christchurch Cathedral and ended at O’Connell Bridge.  Ate dinner at Cassidy’s Pub.

(29 March) Went hiking with Rachel up to Kilkenny hill.  Saw the gate to Bono’s house and the view of the beach.  Walked the long way home and ended up in Dalkey.

(30 March) Started my first day of school at All Saint’s National.  Met the teachers: Anna, Martha, & Leah (Leah came in the 2^nd day).  Liz, the resource worker, and Úna, the secretary.

(1 April) Taught a lesson on the American Revolution to Senior Class (5^th and 6^th Classes).

(2 April) Went out the beach at Shankill and took a walk.  Read my Bible and took pictures of the rocky shore

(3 April) First day of Easter break.  Went out to Dun Laoghaire after school and walked the pier.

(4 April) Took a PaddyWagon to the North with the other American Students.  We took a bus to Belfast and went up the Giant’s Causeway, Dunluce Castle, the Robe Bridge, and Derry.  We came back to Dublin and ate dinner at Fitzgerald’s Pub.

(6-8 April) Went to London with my host family.  I saw Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, The Tower of London and took at tour with a “Beefeater,” and saw the “Henry VIII Dressed to Kill” Exhibit of Henry’s amour, I then took the Underground to Piccadilly Circus where I walked around for a while before meeting with my family and doing a bit of shopping.  We went to go see Wicked that night.  The next day we went to the “Movieum.”

(9 April) Went in to the city with Rachel.  We went to the Thomas Roberts exhibit at the National Art Gallery.  We went to Temple Bar where we went to a pub and listened to a traditional Irish music band for a few hours.

(10-12 April) Took a PaddyWagon tour through the South-West; I met 3 people from South Africa, 1 from Australia, and 1 from LA.  We started by going to the spot in Phoenix Park where the Pope delivered Mass.  Went up to the turf pits and went to the ruins at the Clonmacnoise monastery. We stayed the night in Galway where we walked around the city and saw the Bay, the Spanish Arches, & the Cathedral.  The next day we went to the Burren and the Cliffs of Moher, and took the ferry, drove through Tralee.  We stayed the night at Killarney (at a B&B). The next day we took a horse and carriage ride in Killarney, went to the Blarney Stone, stopped for a photo stop at an ancient church (name?), and ended at the Guinness storehouse in Dublin.

(13 April) I met with Kathleen and her fiancé, Dustin, at Temple Bar for dinner and drinks.

(14 April) I went into Dublin alone and saw the Book of Kells, more of the National Gallery, the National Archeology museum, and the National Library.

(16 April) I took a bus tour out to the site of the Battle of the Boyne, Newgrange, and the Hill of Tara.  When I got back into Dublin that evening I went to a Gothic music concert and readings from Dracula at St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

(18 April) I went back into Dublin and took a Hop on-Hop off bus tour of the entire city.  I saw O’Connell Bridge, General Post Office, Trinity College, the old Parliament Building/the National Bank, Nassau St., Marion Square, St. Stephan’s Green, the National Gallery, City Hall, the Cathedrals, Phoenix Park/Dublin Zoo, Jamison’s Brewery, the Collins-Barrack’s museum, and the Guinness Storehouse.  At the end of the tour, I got off and went into the Dublin writer’s museum.

(20 April) I taught lesson on the American Revolution to Middle Class (2^nd, 3^rd, & 4^th Classes).

(22 April) I taught a lesson on America to the Junior Class (Jr. Infants, Sr. Infants, & 1^st Class)

(23 April) I taught an art lesson on Michelangelo and the Sistine Chapel. They lay on their backs under their desks and painted on a sheet of paper taped underneath.

(25 April) Went into Dublin alone and went to the Dublina museum on Viking and Medieval Dublin, and into Christchurch Cathedral.  While there, they had a prayer sermon for peace and I stayed for it.  Strongbow is buried in Christchurch and I saw his sarcophagus.  Then I went to City Hall and went to the exhibit on the history of Dublin city.  After I left, I went down through Temple Bar, up Grafton Street, Powerscourt and St. Stephen’s shopping centers, Dawson St to the World’s Smallest Pub, and into St. Stephen’s Green.

(26 April) I took a PaddyWagon tour to Glendalough monastery and Kilkenny.  I saw (but didn’t go into) Kilkenny Castle and the churches in the city.

(27-30 April) On-going lesson with Middle Class, using a drama to expand knowledge of the American Revolution. On the last day, we spend time talking about America and they were able to ask me a lot of questions about my country.

(29 April) Taught a lesson about Pirates to Senior Class.  After school I went to Dalkey Castle.

(30 April) Taught a Science lesson to the Junior Class

(1 May) Last day at All Saint’s. Taught a second lesson about Pirates to Senior Class about the importance of archeology to history. After school, Martha took Cici and I to the shopping mall at Dundrom.  Went into Dublin for some shopping and met up with the other American students for dinner and drinks

(2 May) Went to the Dublin Zoo with Rachel and Kathleen.  Then we went to Nick’s host home to watch the Leinster v. Munster rugby match (Go Leinster!!! They killed!)

(4 May) Took a train up to Belfast.  I started by taking a Hop on-Hop Off Tour of the city.  I saw the Catholic and Protestant Quarters, Queen’s College, the Grand Opera House, the city murals, the downtown area.  I didn’t get to see the Titanic Quarter because of a Marathon in the city.  I went for a ride of the Belfast Wheel and got a Bird’s Eye view of the city. Then I took a train to the Ulster Folk and Transport Museum in Cultra and saw the living history village there. I got back to Belfast and wandered around for a bit and did a little bit of shopping

(5 May) I went into Dublin for the last time.  I took the Luas to St. Michan’s Church where I took a tour of the crypts and was able to “shake” the hand of the 800 year old Crusader mummy (or rather gently rub his finger). I left St. Michan’s and took the Luas to the Decorative Arts and History Museum at Collin’s Barracks.  I spent a few hours there tour its exhibits, including a portion of the “dead zoo” from the Museum of Natural History which is closed for renovation.  I went back to O’Connell Street, went inside the GPO (just to say I did), took a picture of Daniel O’Connell’s statue with its bullet holes from the Easter Rising, and walked back through the city one last time: past Trinity and up Nassau, my favorite route.  I stopped in Dun Laogahaire on my home.

Oh wow.  In just a few short hours, I am going to be getting on a plane and flying south…and west….very, very far west.  I’ve come so far in 6 weeks that I hardly know how to begin.  Or end.  I guess I’ll start with my last whirlwind trip and my last day in one of my new favorite cities. (Also, sorry the last post and this one don’t have any pictures, my camera, and ergo my camera card, are packed.  They’ll be up soon.)

I decided on Saturday that I wanted to go to Belfast, and go I did.  I booked a train from Connolly Station in Dublin to take me the just over 2 hour trip to Northern Ireland’s capital.  On my previous trip North, when I went to the Giant’s Causeway and Derry, I had spent a grand total of about 30 minutes in Belfast, and most of that was inside the bus station, but I knew right then that I wanted to go back and explore more of the city.  The first thing I noticed was that Belfast is so obviously not Dublin.  What I mean by this is that the city itself just feels different.  Dublin is a globalized city that is growing quickly.  It is diverse(ish) and metropolitan and bustling.  Belfast contains elements of those as well, but there is a curtain hanging over the city of the intense history and troubles that the city has faced.  And even today, these troubles are completely gone.  The Protestant and Catholic sides of the city have these fences called “Peace Fences” which are closed and locked tight on nights and on weekends in order to ensure peace between the two sectors, which are literally right next to each other.   I could not help but get drawn into the city.  It was so rich and deep, I just wanted to take it all in.  I took a bus tour that drove around the city and gave its history, and then went on “The Belfast Wheel,” which is basically a miniature of the London Eye, and got a birds eye view of the city, along with about 13 minutes of commentary.  I was in a carriage alone, so it was another chance to just soak in what I saw.   However, as much as I was loving Belfast, Kathy (my host mom) suggested that I would really like this living history museum about a 15 minute train ride out of Belfast, so I decided to make time for that.  It turned out, that this was a very good thing.  The Ulster Folk and Transport Museum has quite literally transplanted a 19th century Northern Irish town and set it up.  There is the “town” section and a “rural” section (which felt like I had stepped back into time in the Irish countryside).  And, because it was the May Day Bank Holiday, they had May Day celebrations all throughout the “town.”  If you know me, you know I was right at home.  I spent a few hours there before making my way back to Belfast (ok quick side story: I didn’t really know where this museum was, so I went to the tourist office to ask how to get there; the lady told me the name of the stop I needed to get off of at the train, so I bought a ticket and made my way there.  Everything is fine and dandy, right? NO. I got off of the train at the Cultra stop and I thought I had gotten off at an abandoned station.  There were no attendants, no buildings, no nothing but track.  I was out in the middle of nowhere with no idea where I was supposed to be going and out of the country twice over–as Northern Ireland is in the United Kingdom.  Luckily just up the street was an Inn and Spa, the only building around for what seemed like miles and they were able to point me in the right direction, but I definitely had a minor meltdown for a minute there).  Back in Belfast, I walked around the city, just to see. It was incredible.  The history…I can’t even really put it into words, but it blew me away.  After a quick dinner, I made my way back to the train station to come back to the Republic of Ireland…and just a different world.  I’ve been reading this book about the history of Ireland and I just read about the 1916 Easter Rising and the struggles with men like Eamon de Valera and Michael Collins with the English, and then the beginnings of the Troubles in the North, and everything just becomes so much clearer.  Did you know that for a long time, Northern Ireland was the “most Irish” part of the country, and that’s why the Stuart kings started setting up English Plantations in the North and began to Anglicize it, making it the divided country it is today.  Suddenly, all of that is so much clearer to me.

Today, I went to Dublin for the last time of my trip.  There were a couple of things I wanted to do that I hadn’t had the chance to yet, so I thought I’d better.  First, was going to the crypt at St. Michan’s Church. It’s out in kind of a run down area of the city and so far out I hadn’t wanted to walk out before, but I have recently discovered the Luas, a trolley like system within the city, which had a stop like right in front of the church, so I went. Um ok, it was awesome.  There are some natural methane gasses and limestone in the crypt which have preserved the bodies almost perfectly in the coffins. There are four in particular that range from a couple hundred to 800 years old that you can see are just incredible.  The 800 year old body is a man who could have possibly been a Crusader, because he was buried with his legs crossed.  According to myth, it is good luck to shake his hand.  Now obviously, they wouldn’t let us shake his hand, but a slight graze of the finger is considered the same….so….I touched the hand of an 800 year old Crusader.  Awesome.  Not even kidding.  Then I went to the Decorative Arts and History Museum, which was just one Luas station next to St. Michan’s.  That was really cool too, just my kind of thing.  They had a really interesting exhibit on the 1916 Rising, which was perfect timing for me.

And now here I am, 11:24 at night and I fly out at 10:55 in the morning.  This has been a great trip.  I don’t feel changed, I’m not the kind of person who is going to change her entire life over one trip, but I am taking away something from it.  For one, I’ll be the only World History teacher in North Carolina to teach Irish history along with everything else, curriculum be damned.  For another, I’ve learned to travel alone and not panic.  I appreciate my Jeep much more too–I have taken 7 different forms of public transportation since I’ve been here.  And surprisingly enough, I appreciate American history much more.  I appreciate what we stand for and how far we’ve come in so short a time.  I appreciate what the American Revolution really accomplished.  There are two Irish “rebels” buried at St. Michan’s who lived at the same time of the American Revolution.  Our guide was telling us how they failed, were captured, hanged, drawn, and quartered (a gruesome process that I am going to spare you the details of if you don’t know them).  Had they succeeded and lived, they would have been known not as rebels but revolutionaries–as Founding Fathers.  Had our own Founding Fathers failed, they may have held the same fates as these two men rather than becoming writers of the Consititution, Presidents, Secretaries of the Treasury, Senators, ect.  But most of all, I’m going to take away a richness of culture that is so entrenched in its people that it exhudes from them.  That’s why I love the people here so much.  That’s why I’ve grown to love Ireland more than I thought I would.  That’s why I’ll be back.

So here I am, Sunday May 4, 2009; a mere 3 days before I board a plane to make the looooong truck back home.  I can’t believe it.  Really. It’s been crazy.  But…more on that later (and by later, I mean a future post, so keep looking over the next couple days–I’m not done yet!).

Since I’ve last written I’ve done a bit more travelling and a bit more teaching.  I’ve actually taught some pretty interesting lessons, if I do say so meself (that was an intentional “me,” just fyi).  First, I finished up the American Revolution with the Middles by having them perform a play about it that I found online. I divided them into 4 groups and each group did an act of it.  Then I showed them the Schoolhouse Rock clip again, and they all seemed to understand it much more this time.  They really seemed to enjoy it!  After that, they asked me all sorts of questions about America–anything was open.  I talked about the Amish, the Pledge of Allegiance, the Civil War, Presidential assassinations, really, everything was free game.  They were so curious and so interested, and I felt so proud of America to be able to talk about it with them.  When we were finished, the Middle Class teacher (who was also asking me questions) told me that she was very grateful that I was here to talk to them about it. “American history is not something they will ever get in school,” she said.   It was awesome, and probably the best time I had in the classroom whilst I’ve been here.

Then with junior class I did a science lesson on magnets.  There’s not much to say except that I think kids that age think that magnets are magic.  They were so amazed.  “Look Ms. Jones, I think this leaf is magnetic!” said one boy who had a paper clip stuck to one side of the leaf and the magnet was connecting to that.”  Basically, I gave them a worksheet I made that had little pictures on them and they had to use the magnets to see what was magnetic and what wasn’t.  Simple, not much planning, and they loved it.  Works for me.

Then, right up my alley, I got to teach a “unit” (i.e. two 45 minute lessons) on….wait for it…..PIRATES! Ok, so that was awesome…not gunna lie.  They are going to start reading Treasure Island next week, and I mentioned to the teacher that I took a course on piratical history in college and loved it, so she asked me to teach a history lesson on pirates.  I made it a myth v. fact kind of lesson.  And, the best part, it required no background research because I already knew everything.  All I did was make a powerpoint that had 9 true/false questions on it and them write down what they thought it was.  Then I went through each of them, saying if it was true or false and then showed a slide that may have had a quote from a pirate (such as one describing the taste of turtle), a copy of pirate’s articles that I had them read round-robin style, pictures or paintings, and even a recipe for hardtack.  The kids loved it.  Even the ones that normally give problems paid attention and really got into it.  I ended up talking so much and sharing so many neat little anecdotes that my throat was sore by the end (which actually, now that I think on it, may have been a precursor to the cold I’m not experiencing…no worries, it’s NOT swine flu.)  The second lesson was really more of an archeology lesson, where I talked about the importance of archeology by having them read an article from National Geographic about a pirate ship (the Whydah) which was the first pirate ship authenticated in the world, found off the coast of Cape Cod.  Then we talked about the article and I showed them a clip from the Nat. Geo. site about it (to give them a visual) and just had a nice discussion about pirates and archeology.  It was really neat.  And again, they got into it.

On my last day there, the whole school got together to say good-bye to me and all of the kids had made projects and cards to give to me before I left.  It was so awesome.  I really grew to love these kids, even though they aren’t exactly my age group.  Some of them were just so sweet and so special that I am going to miss them so much.  I gave them my home address and told them to practice their penmanship by writing me letters.

Now on travel:

Last weekend, obviously was very hard for me (see my post, “One Year”). I went into Dublin alone on Saturday to do some things I’d been meaning to do and just soak up the city.  It was kind of nasty and rainy that morning, so I went straight to a museum called “Dublinia” about Viking/medieval Dublin.  Then I went to City Hall where they had an exhibit set up about Dublin’s history.  Very cool.  By the time I left City Hall, it was bright and sunny, so I decided to spend some time outside.  I made my way to Grafton Street via Temple Bar (i.e. the long way) and went into a couple shops here and there, then I went to St. Stephens Green, a park, and just sat for a while and wrote in my journal.  It was nice.  I decided then and there that I really love Dublin.  It’s such a great city, and I hope this will not be my last time here.  Last Sunday, I took another PaddyWagon tour to the ancient Glendalough monastery and the town of Kilkenny.  It was super nice and really lovely.  While I was in Kilkenny, a random guy, who was quite nice looking, stopped me and started talking to me.  I kept to the small talk and then kept walking…and felt like an idiot later–guess I passed up my chance for Irish love–HAHA!  Friday, I went into town with the other American students and we celebrated our last day of school with dinner at a nice pub where they were playing Irish music and then to Hard Rock.  Yesterday, Kathleen and Rachel and I went to the Dublin Zoo. That was fun, I love zoos.

A few more things: my family is awesome.  They’ve been so great about everything and it has been a blessing to be living with them.  The weather, not awesome.  It is soo cold and pretty wet.  I miss the heat soooooo badly.  I can’t wait to go to the beach when I get home.

Well anyway, I’ve got to be up early tomorrow for a whistle-stop trip to Belfast–I’ll let y’all know how that goes when I’m back! Good night world!! (Pictures are also to come soon, so hurry back!!)

Tomorrow is a very important and very sad day for my family.  Tomorrow marks one year since Jordyn went to be with the Lord.  It feels like just yesterday since she was with us, and yet it feels like decades ago.   So much has happened to us since then, and I hardly know where I stand. We have another little one in the family, Mike & Lisa’s Bridget, and little Jacob Daniel who is almost here.  There are some days when I still can’t keep from holding back the tears and there are some days when Jordyn feels so close to me that it’s almost like she’s here.  I can still hear her calling me, “Da-becca.” And watching Cinderella III with her snuggled against me.  And picking “a-torns.” And holding her just after she had been born in the hospital: the first of my baby cousins.  And wanting me to play with her and holding her sweet little hand when I took her to the movies.  And laughing at Faith’s first birthday when Cindy stuffed chocolate on my face.  And her ever joyful last Christmas. There is a part of me that still questions, still wonders if something could have been different, but biggest part of me has moved closed to what I might term as acceptance.   Not acceptance of her death, but of God’s greatness.  I was so fortunate to have a wonderful church family who supported me throughout everything and afterwards, who helped me realize that it wasn’t a vindictive god who took her, but a loving God who cares for her.   Jordyn already has a headstart spending the rest of eternity worshiping God, and I’ll be with her again one day.   Jordyn doesn’t long to be back on Earth, so why should we long for her to be.  That doesn’t make it any easier, but I continue to have hope in Christ who redeems me.
I will extol the LORD at all times;
his praise will always be on my lips.

2 My soul will boast in the LORD;
let the afflicted hear and rejoice.

3 Glorify the LORD with me;
let us exalt his name together.

4 I sought the LORD, and he answered me;
he delivered me from all my fears.

5 Those who look to him are radiant;
their faces are never covered with shame.

6 This poor man called, and the LORD heard him;
he saved him out of all his troubles.

7 The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear him,
and he delivers them.

8 Taste and see that the LORD is good;
blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.

9 Fear the LORD, you his saints,
for those who fear him lack nothing.

10 The lions may grow weak and hungry,
but those who seek the LORD lack no good thing.

11 Come, my children, listen to me;
I will teach you the fear of the LORD.

12 Whoever of you loves life
and desires to see many good days,

13 keep your tongue from evil
and your lips from speaking lies.

14 Turn from evil and do good;
seek peace and pursue it.

15 The eyes of the LORD are on the righteous
and his ears are attentive to their cry;

16 the face of the LORD is against those who do evil,
to cut off the memory of them from the earth.

17 The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them;
he delivers them from all their troubles.

18 The LORD is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

19 A righteous man may have many troubles,
but the LORD delivers him from them all;

20 he protects all his bones,
not one of them will be broken.

21 Evil will slay the wicked;
the foes of the righteous will be condemned.

22 The LORD redeems his servants;
no one will be condemned who takes refuge in him.

~Psalm 34

Ok, so we all remember I’m here for a student teaching experience, right?  I know I’d almost forgotten with all of the hubbub of traveling and such, but there was no forgetting when I went straight back into the classroom this Monday!

This time around, I taught the Middle class (2nd, 3rd, and 4th class), which is approximately the same as 3rd-5th grades in the States.  I have come to the decision that this is my favorite of the three classes.  The Junior class is fun and they are super cute, but they are WAY too young for me…but more on that in a bit.  Senior class….well….more on them in a minute too.  (See what I’m doing there, creating suspense so you’ll keep reading.  Yes I’m that good.)

Anyway, back to Middle Class.  They are my faves for two main reasons: 1) They are by far the sweetest of the classes.  They always greet me in the mornings like there is no one else they would rather see in the day, and they give me hugs and love on me.  From this class, I have received cards and pictures.  They are precious (well most of them).  2) They are old enough that I can have a real conversation with them, but they are young enough to where they aren’t super cocky.  They know they aren’t kings and queens of the school yet, and so they are by far more humble because of it.  Most of them also still have that desire to be in school, which is always nice for a teacher.  I taught them a similar lesson that I did for Senior class before Easter on the American Revolution (See my blog, “Brilliant Lesson, Ms. Jones!” , but I replaced The Patriot with Schoolhouse Rock’s “The Shot Heard Round the World“–a more appropriate clip for the younger ones.  I also had to “dumb” down the lesson a bit.  Even though I would say that these are my favorite kids, I do miss being able to ask critical thinking questions, like I can with 5th and 6th class.  Most Middle class hasn’t quite gotten to that analytical thinking skill yet, and as my teaching style is largely a question-based discussion, I found that to be difficult with them.  However, it went well and I enjoyed it.  I had them draw political cartoons at the end of the lesson, and I have no intention of giving them back, I want to keep them to remember my students by.

On Wednesday, I did what I had been dreading since I got here: I taught Junior class.  Don’t get me wrong, I love them, I really do, but I am NOT cut out to teach 5 year olds.   Seriously.  I will play with them all day long, but when I am in a classroom, I want to encourage learning, and I just don’t know how to do it with them.  For them, I decided to just talk about America.  I started out the lesson by showing them a 5 Euro note and 1 Euro coin and then had them describe them to me.  Then I pulled out a $5 bill and a $1 bill and told them that they were the same as their Euros and had them tell me how they were different.  Then I read them a book I had brought with me that was called “America: A Patriotic Primer” that used the ABC’s to talk about different aspects, history, and values in America.  I got them to tell me what the next letter was going to be, and some of them really got into it.  Then , in the end, I had them color a picture of the American flag and write “America” at the top (to practice penmanship).  It was kind of a mess, but I survived it.  And again, I have something to remember them by.

Then today, I taught my last lesson for the week: an art lesson.  Yes.  I’m not kidding.  My first three lesson had been great because they were history lessons and right up my alley.  I was back in Middle Class, and being as I am, I’m sure you can imagine that I wasn’t going to let an art lesson get away without putting some history into it.    I decided that I was going to teach about Michelangelo and the Sistine Chapel ceiling.  I talked about Michelangelo and who he was as an artist, and showed them pictures of the Sistine Chapel.  Then I told them about his scaffolding and how he had to paint either standing up and looking towards the ceiling or lying on his back.  So I had them tape a sheet of paper underneath their desks and lie on the floor.  Then they painted like they were Michelangelo. It was actually pretty cool.  Art is chaotic (which makes me understand art majors a bit more…haha…just kidding, love you guys) but it is fun.   Of course, when I told them what they were doing, it was kind of like, “Seriously? I think Ms. Jones is crazy,” at least at first.  In the end, though, the kids really seemed to eat it up.

Ok, back to what I was saying about Senior class.  Some of them are really good kids, and I mean that.  But pre-teen is a difficult age as it is.  Now I understand why 6th graders are more often the bottom of the totem pole in the States; it keeps them humble.  These kids are about the same as 6th and 7th grade and being at the top of the school is bad news.  They know they are at the top of the school and they act like it.  It doesn’t help that the school is so small (about 56 students) and the staff is forced to give them responsibilities in helping out the younger kids.  They know they have power.  They are all (minus a handful) arrogant and walk around all day with their chests puffed out.  Some of them are downright rude and disrespectful.  I would love to stick some of them in the middle school I went to (Neal in Durham) for a day.  Some of them who think they are king here wouldn’t last 5 minutes there.  I know that going off to secondary school in the next year or two will humble them up, and they need it.  All of that being said, however, I do like the class.  They are funny and entertaining, and some of them are really sweet kids.  They are smart too, doing math that I certainly didn’t do in 6th or 7th grade–heck, math I don’t even do now.

I can’t believe that tomorrow is Friday and it will be a week before my last day, May 1st (May 4th and 5th are bank holidays and I fly out on the 6th).  This trip has just flown by! I know I am going to miss it so much, but part of me is ready to get home.  Now that I’m in the process of filling out job apps and answering questions like “What are your plans for teaching strategies?” I cannot wait to have my own classroom.

Things to be look for in the next week: I’m going back into Dublin this Saturday and may be taking another day trip on Sunday.  I’m teaching…yikes!!!!….science (of all subjects) to the Juniors next week and the history of piracy two days to the Seniors (now that’s more like it.) Until then,  May the sun shine warm upon your face; the rains fall soft upon our fields and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

**Just a note of clarification for these pictures.  They are all of the Junior Classroom.  In this class, there are three different “grades” if you will.  Junior infants, the youngest, begin school at about 4; they are like our pre-k or kindergarten.  Senior infants, about 5 or 6 years old, are like 1st grade.  Finally, the oldest ones in the classroom, 1st class, are 6 or 7, and are like our 2nd grade.