grad school

My mother (a nurse) and her sister (a dental hygenist) are the only two people in either of my parents families to graduate from college. My Dad, although he's now a liscensed builder and engineer, was in a religious studies program, but dropped out for trade school, like many of my uncles; one or two mechanics, a foreman in a sheetmetal shop, a glazer. One aunt works for the city of Detroit, one at a daycare, a few clean houses and one is a stylist. Their parents worked at similar trades. This said, every single one of my generation is either graduated, in school, or planning on college. Our parents insisted and made it possible for us to pursue higher learning. However, not having a whole lot of experience or background in the system, most of us ended up at state schools, doing fine, but with an eye for getting out and getting on with "real life."

In undergrad I - the bookiest, most school oriented of the bunch - was shocked and apalled by my experiences in class. Having been homeschooled, in high school I had wasted no time in getting what seemed to be essential out of whatever I was assigned and moving on to whatever I was currently obsessed with (soapmaking, sewing, backpacking, piano, goat cheese, writing, reading philosophy) or whatever needed done around the farm (roofing, gardening, mucking, riding, milking, haying). I was so excited for college; to just focus on learning a lot and having the uber-wise professors on hand to answer my pressing questions. I finished my first semester with extra credit beyond a 4. in every single class. My mind totally blown by how easy everything was, I kept thinking I must be missing something. I went up to the UP camping after Christmas and stayed two weeks into the next semester. Back at Eastern, I quickly figured out how to navigate the system, got a few jobs, moved out and prioritzed so that I could work full time, be in a band, and graduate with honors without really studying much beyond completeing the requisite papers and theory assignments. Dissillusioned as I was, I couldn't wait to get out of school and never go back. I will never understand why, just before graduation and blessed escape, I decided to choose the one profession that not only requires continual addional schooling, but also refuses to pay for it. Fucking teaching. This is why - after a long and desperate period of avoidance - I find myself in.........

grad school.

Even Eastern's music program offered more than this sick bullshit. I sit in a class with some very lovely people who apparently have nothing better to do than to hang out in a middle school media center talking about what we already know. I have a few very lovely professors -good people! - who are sent to tell us the startling truth that, although people are different in many ways, really - at our core - we are all valuable, and no culture or ethnicity should be seen as superior, no individual as more important than another. I know, it's a shocker. Take a minute and try to digest it. I'm sure it's going to take years for me to bring this one to bear on my classroom policies. AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHH!

I feel like I am paying the university (or Sallie Mae is paying the University) to allow me to sit in a room twice a week and explain what I already do and currently think, get approval from a credentialed official, document my thoughts and lessonplans, get a stamp on a paper at the end so that I can pay the state some more money for another paper that says I can continue to do what I already am. If this is confusing and obfuscated, blame it on the influence of the stupid system that I am trapped in and valiantly trying to inhabit without absorbing its inadequacies.
(all statements in my homework to the contrary notwithstanding)