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jawnbcI gots me an edumacation for all sorts a reasons. Cause I'se smart. Cause they axed me to. Cause I felt I hads ta.
Really. Sweah ta gawd
As a leprechaun-in (little leprechaun), I loved school and loved learning. But nothing quite like schooling to pummel that out of a working class boyo. (some) teachers' expectations that I'd fulfill my class destiny and leave the hallowed G & T (gifted and talented, not gin & tonic) program and return to the great unwashed. And peers whose lawyer, scientist (pharma plant in town), or physician papas taught them the basics of us-them dynamics.
I was definately a them. Though there were also some very nice folks, who complicitly kept their mouths shut when these sorts of exclusionary norms could've been assuaged. They. Did. Not.
But my family, jaysus love 'em, were a bit better. But not much. Son #3 couldn't catch, avoid dirty and the outdoors, and loved nothing more than reading, or singing. Freaky! At report cards time and when the larger clan met for food and bragging, my pensive bent was good for some social capital--and head pats. Good on ya John! You're so smart!
Don't be so smart--you think you're so goddamn smart!
By junior high, I'd found schooling increasingly boring (banal or uninteresting, rarely difficult), and learned how to play to type--in my family, wiseass. I stayed in the G & T until graduation, or I probably would've dropped out entirely. With high school and its concomitant pressures regarding university, I took a flip attitude and expected little. When the enveloped from the halls of Ivy came, I panicked. And said "yes thanks." And then "no thanks"
I had lost the desire to learn. Why waste hundreds of thousands of dollars when I could waste only thousands? When I got my dogwood for my BA, I felt pride, confusion and relief. First in family/but I didn't do any fookin work/well no more school for me, ever again.
Rancour turned to rage and that transitioned lovelily into self-destruction. Through Grace and some work on my part, the path shifted and I lost most of the chips on my shoulders, which were hunched over, cramped and sore. For several years I focussed on spiritual matters, through spiritual pursuits (meditation, prayer, living life engaged) and intensive psychotherapy with a shrink who was not only smarter than me, but didn't have a cookie-cutter approach to therapy.
Redemption came, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. Real friends, real family, real and meaningful work. And I cautiously began to peak around into brain stuff, starting with reading fiction. Then writing a wee bit. Then watching The Simpsons. And I began meeting people called Dr. (of various forms) who weren't complete wankers or eejits. And they all said, "you should have a PhD." Nah.
Yeah. And the impetus to go back to grad skool was to make more $$ as a teacher; the impetus for the PhD (2 years later) was to learn</>. Full stop.
And I learned a lot, certainly intellectually but also spiritually. One thing was that I had to pursue work that was more intellectually bent, were I truly comitted to making the world a better place.
So I have, and being a fudd now lets me pursue all sorts of ventures related to social justice. But part of the game (so to speak) is writing, mostly for academic journals. I'm currently working on 2 pieces, one on LGBT/queer health in Vancouver, the other on power and HIV prevention for injection drug users (IDUs).
And Ma, ya prolly don unnerstand this, but writin is work.
Really. Sweah ta gawd
As a leprechaun-in (little leprechaun), I loved school and loved learning. But nothing quite like schooling to pummel that out of a working class boyo. (some) teachers' expectations that I'd fulfill my class destiny and leave the hallowed G & T (gifted and talented, not gin & tonic) program and return to the great unwashed. And peers whose lawyer, scientist (pharma plant in town), or physician papas taught them the basics of us-them dynamics.
I was definately a them. Though there were also some very nice folks, who complicitly kept their mouths shut when these sorts of exclusionary norms could've been assuaged. They. Did. Not.
But my family, jaysus love 'em, were a bit better. But not much. Son #3 couldn't catch, avoid dirty and the outdoors, and loved nothing more than reading, or singing. Freaky! At report cards time and when the larger clan met for food and bragging, my pensive bent was good for some social capital--and head pats. Good on ya John! You're so smart!
Don't be so smart--you think you're so goddamn smart!
By junior high, I'd found schooling increasingly boring (banal or uninteresting, rarely difficult), and learned how to play to type--in my family, wiseass. I stayed in the G & T until graduation, or I probably would've dropped out entirely. With high school and its concomitant pressures regarding university, I took a flip attitude and expected little. When the enveloped from the halls of Ivy came, I panicked. And said "yes thanks." And then "no thanks"
I had lost the desire to learn. Why waste hundreds of thousands of dollars when I could waste only thousands? When I got my dogwood for my BA, I felt pride, confusion and relief. First in family/but I didn't do any fookin work/well no more school for me, ever again.
Rancour turned to rage and that transitioned lovelily into self-destruction. Through Grace and some work on my part, the path shifted and I lost most of the chips on my shoulders, which were hunched over, cramped and sore. For several years I focussed on spiritual matters, through spiritual pursuits (meditation, prayer, living life engaged) and intensive psychotherapy with a shrink who was not only smarter than me, but didn't have a cookie-cutter approach to therapy.
Redemption came, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. Real friends, real family, real and meaningful work. And I cautiously began to peak around into brain stuff, starting with reading fiction. Then writing a wee bit. Then watching The Simpsons. And I began meeting people called Dr. (of various forms) who weren't complete wankers or eejits. And they all said, "you should have a PhD." Nah.
Yeah. And the impetus to go back to grad skool was to make more $$ as a teacher; the impetus for the PhD (2 years later) was to learn</>. Full stop.
And I learned a lot, certainly intellectually but also spiritually. One thing was that I had to pursue work that was more intellectually bent, were I truly comitted to making the world a better place.
So I have, and being a fudd now lets me pursue all sorts of ventures related to social justice. But part of the game (so to speak) is writing, mostly for academic journals. I'm currently working on 2 pieces, one on LGBT/queer health in Vancouver, the other on power and HIV prevention for injection drug users (IDUs).
And Ma, ya prolly don unnerstand this, but writin is work.
