It Seemed Like a Good Idea…

If things continue as they have the last few days, I’m going to get a big head. One of my fellow students sent me an e-mail:

“THANKS FOR YOUR KINDNESS AND IMMEASURABLE LOVE. GOD OF gods BLESS YOU ALL THE TIMES. I M TEMPTED TO SAY YOUR CHILDREN MUST BE ENJOYING YOUR COMPANY. I LOVE YOU, GINNA ALLISON.”

Another student wrote: —”Dear Ginna, you’re wonderful!”

As if that wasn’t enough, in the last week or so I’ve gotten responses from teachers to papers in a variety of classes. I should add that none of these teachers dishes out gratuitous praise.

“Ginna, this is an articulate, well thought through and engaging piece of work. I was amazed at your timeline – it was absorbing to read and so well laid out!…”

“Ginna – Thanks for this penetrating and very non-defensive look at your group’s dynamics…”

“Great paper, Ginna. Rich, thoughtful, nuanced, programmatic, beautifully written. Job superbly done!” [And then the teacher asked if I’d return the paper to her so she could show it to the board of directors or something.]

“… Ginna, once again this is a thoughtful, well-written and well reasoned response…”

“This is an excellent paper in which you make clear connections between your developing beliefs about teaching…”

There was only one comment that confused me a bit. It was a teacher’s response to the assignment: “Make a list of all the things you hear in English in a day.” I gave a detailed accounting, to which she replied —”I’m a little surprised you didn’t mention things like music, or birds singing.”

Is there something I don’t know about the English sparrow?

I’m tired and don’t want to write now. I’ll just show you pictures from last Friday. A gaggle of Serbian teenagers was on campus and gave a presentation about their country. They were adorably enthusiastic. They have whitewater rafting there, so maybe I should go. Interesting cultural note: they’re very touchy, even with strangers. As we entered the room, the boys put their hand on each person’s back or arm. In the first picture, the boy at right is showing me plum booze his grandfather made. In the middle is a traditional dance. At right is the Serbian version of the peace sign.

In the afternoon we had our final Second Language Acquisition class. Elka had brought decorations. I rather liked how her feet looked among them. In the end she presented a PowerPoint listing all the things we’d learned and will need to know as we move forward. At right was her last slide. By the way, her new book about multilingualism will be released next month. I’d like to buy it, but it’s $140.

As promised, here is the tale of the surprise activity the Funnest Commission (of which I am a member) had planned for today. It was a parade through campus, giving us a chance to make noise and act foolish and get fresh air and disturb as many people on campus as possible. But when the hour of the event arrived, I had lost all interest, and wondered what the hell we were doing it for.

Here is Mike, the professor I’ve told you about who makes me go all hysterical. I was wearing the tattoo sleeve that Molly gave me as a goodbye present, and rather liked the effect of his Tux and my Tattoo. So we posed for the first photo. Just before the second photo was taken he leaned over my arm and either bit or kissed — I couldn’t tell which — my tattoo arm. The picture shows my ensuing surprised mirth. He seems nonplussed.

Here are, from left to right: Marshall Brewer, the director of admissions to the MAT program, who was instrumental in my coming here; it is no surprise, when looking at his outfit, that he would be simpatico with a person like me. On this day he was, for many obvious reasons, as the parade’s grand Marshall. Next up are are Jess and Curtis.

After the parade we met in the dining room. Yajuan made a speech into the microphone, which was actually the quiet end of a noisemaker. And that’s Joseph with the big green wiggly face, wearing his fancy new jacket he’d just bought in NYC.

The night before the parade, Kim and I got together to fulfill our duty of making a banner. After a great deal of brainstorming, during which I was wondering why we were doing this stupid parade anyway, this slogan emerged:

Sometimes that also expresses my sentiments about my decision to come to SIT. Kim and I think it should be the motto of the Mat 41s.