The Messiness of a Memory

Memories are strange.

I ask myself why are some parts of time captured forever while others are forgotten?

What makes my brain think, “this is important, this must be remembered.”

An image, tune, scent can bring me back a forgotten moment trapped in time.

The snowy horizon line takes me back to a farmhouse and Christmas Village decorations.

The smell of dial soap reminds me of summer days spent eating chocolate ice cream with bananas.

I want to shout, “Remember this! Do these images and smells not resonate with you at all?”

I then realize these small joys of simple things are only shared with two other people.

Eventually, I’ll be the only one who lived in these moments.

When I’m alone with these memories, is it best to keep it a secret or share these with the world?

To share these thoughts that mean everything to me, but may be mundane moments to others make me fear they won’t be appreciated or accepted.

To think, so many have gone with memories they never got to tell and left the world with the possibility of being the last person who knew of those shared times spent with others.

So when I smell dial soap and see a fresh hillside covered in snow,

Do I hold the story tight, or let it go?

My Elementary Teachers Lied to Me

My elementary teachers lied to me. I remember learning about history in elementary school because it was mostly the same thing every single time. We started with Christopher Columbus and learned the cute little poem. I was told he was a hero and didn’t learn until junior year of high school that he did some shady things such as destroy a whole nation’s way of life, brought diseases, and captured local people just to name a few. As far as I know, my old school district still has Columbus day off.

After learning about the heroic efforts of Columbus, we dove into the world of the pilgrims. We were told how they left England due to religious persecution and were saved by Squanto from starvation because he happily helped them learn how to plant corn. This led us to Thanksgiving which made all of our young souls believe that the Native Americans (Who am I kidding? We used the term Indians because our school’s mascot was indeed an Indian) and the pilgrims were the best of friends. We got to dress up as either an Indian or a pilgrim and then go down to the cafeteria and eat random Thanksgiving foods on the floor in our “costumes.” Not going to lie, I loved this part of the school year. I loved decorating a paper headband and adding feathers to it to play the role of an “Indian”. Pocahontas was one of my favorite Disney movies and I wanted to be her. Yet, to my knowledge I have not one ounce of Native American blood in me. Knowing what I know now about cultural appropriation and how the relationship between the white settlers and the Native Americans were not all roses and rainbows, these innocent elementary activities make me cringe. I know my teachers had good intent. I am not sure the resources were out there like they are today for multicultural teaching. This is why it’s important to be open to learn more since there are more resources.

My first year of teaching I taught in Parker, Arizona. Parker is home to the Colorado River Indian Tribes. I learned so much more by just living there about Native American culture than I ever did in school. During my time teaching there, they celebrated CRIT Native American Days which falls in the beginning of October. It would be cool to see a shift of celebrating Columbus Day to teaching more about Native Americans. There is National Native American Day celebrated on the 2nd Monday in October and recognized by California and South Dakota. Hopefully, more states and eventually the country as a whole will recognize this day instead of Columbus Day.

The other history topic that I remember hearing over and over again in elementary school was Civil Rights. This happened usually around Martin Luther King Day. We would listen to his iconic “I Have a Dream” speech and fill out something about our dreams for the future. We talked about segregation and people like Rosa Parks and Ruby Bridges. My teachers did talk about the different schools, bathrooms, water fountains, and the peaceful protests during the Civil Rights Era but as a child it seemed that as soon as we got to the part where Dr. King was eventually shot, that ended everything. We moved on and it gave the impression that everything was OK. He was shot but people learned to be better and his dream was completed. America was the perfect country that loved its native people, ended slavery, and defeated racism and segregation. This was a lie. My teachers lied to me.

I respect my past teachers. They were great and I had a good education. I know times have changed and the idea of teaching racism in a small town community to elementary kids would be tough. I am sure it was frowned upon to even get into such topics and they wanted us to see love, not hate. Times have changed and there are more resources to teach young kids about different cultures in a way that’s respectful and dignified. Edutopia, Ted Talks, and Teaching Tolerance are just a few great resources for educators to talk about difficult topics. The internet was just starting to get big when I was in elementary school so I am grateful for resources that are at our fingertips today.

It wasn’t until college, that I learned our country was not perfect. I did have a high school history teacher who didn’t sugar coat things, but I still thought racism was over. I went to a predominately white high school. It seemed like there was no racism because there was no diversity and we knew nothing different. The only thing I knew about other cultures and races were what was shown on TV and unfortunately the city next to my small town had a lot of systematic racism which was portrayed on the media as black on black crime and gang violence. The city was very much divided and even as an ignorant kid I could see that. You didn’t stop on the West Side and avoided it at all cost.

Growing up, my Dad did a great job trying to expose us to different communities in the area. When we would drive to my grandparents’ house on the east side of the city he would purposely drive through the west side neighborhoods and down town. He often stopped at gas stations and grocery stores that were in “sketchy” areas. This often made me cry and scream that he was going to get us killed. I’m 27 and still alive today so obviously we were safe. At the time, I thought my Dad was being selfish making us drive in “not safe” areas of the city but now I realize his intentions were to make us see the good in the area and to destroy the negative images we had and replace them with truth from first hand experiences.

As a college student, I learned terms that I had never heard before in my life. Systematic racism, white privilege, racial profiling, ageism, and ableism were just a few terms that were brand new to me. As I learned these terms and read more about equity and equality I realized how broken our country is. Once I discovered the truth, I couldn’t hide in my ignorance any longer.

Here’s the thing, I didn’t realize half of what I didn’t know about racism and injustice in our country because I was ignorant. If I didn’t go to college and teach in some of the places I’ve taught I would have no idea the inequalities and broken social structures we have in place. I still have a white wash mind, I am trying to become more open minded and fix the things I have been taught but that doesn’t happen over night. It takes life experiences, learning through books or podcasts written by people of color, and listening to those who are oppressed and actually hearing them. I know not everyone has had these experiences and it’s OK. We can grow and learn everyday. It’s not too late.

It’s our job as white people to teach our people. Not all of our family, friends, and neighbors are aware of the racism, hate, and systematic oppression because they live in a bubble. I loved most of my teachers growing up, but I was taught a white washed view of history and had to learn to change my perspective on many topics. I don’t blame my past educators because maybe they didn’t know better, but if you know better it’s your job to be a voice of truth. As an educator, my mission is to not sugar coat things but to appropriately tell my students things are not roses and rainbows and we can and must do better. Civil Rights did not end with Martin Luther King and Rosa Parks and we have so much more to do and learn.

I am not done learning. I will never be done learning. As our country currently engages in protests for the black community do not think that when this is over it is done. There is a lot of work to be done to fight racism and it will not happen over night. Think also of our people who are Latino, Muslim, and Chinese just to name a few. These groups are also experiencing constant hate from ignorance and lack of understanding of their culture. There is so much more to know and to learn. The best ways to becomes less ignorant is to read about different cultures, learn about white privilege, travel, and engage in conversation with people who are different from you.

Let’s stop lying to ourselves. We can do better.

What Side of History do you want to be On?

What side of history do you want to be on? I have asked this question to my 5th grade class numerous times this school year. In 5th grade, we have dived deep into some heavy topics such as Revolutionary War, World War II, the Cold War, and before COVID19 hit we had just finished reading Through My Eyes, a memoir by Ruby Bridges.

Now if you have not read Through My Eyes, it’s an excellent story from Ruby’s own voice of what it was like to be a young black girl going to an all white school in the south. The words themselves are great to read, but the thing that struck my class and me the most are the pictures. This book has photographs of Ruby heading into the school escorted by US Marshalls while white people, mostly white mothers, are screaming and protesting that this young girl be taken away and to never let her set foot into their school. She was spat on, threatened, and there was even a picture of someone holding a black doll in a casket. This was her reality. A reality that today we look at as shameful and horrid. How could people do this to an innocent 6 year old girl? The pictures do not lie. The people in them appear hateful, racists, and evil.

Now as many 10 and 11 year old would, they questioned why did people do this? How could they? Are these people evil? I explained they are definitely not on the right side of history, but did they know better?

We talked about the culture of the south and the history of slavery. Slavery wasn’t that long ago and some people’s attitudes towards African Americans were not going to change over night, especially if their parents raised them to hate and they raised their own children that way as so on and so forth. It’s a cycle. A cycle that lives on today and if someone doesn’t change their mind they will continue to preach hate and think they are not wrong. I told them it’s easy to judge these people and the photos hold the truth, but what would be really interesting is to see if any of those people in those photos became aware of how horrible their actions were towards Ruby and other African Americans.

Personally, I applaud the people who change and become self aware of how their thoughts and actions might impact others. There was a lot of evil and hate in the photographs of Through my Eyes but I do not doubt someone from those photos realized the mistakes they had make. Can you imagine how hard that might be? If your whole life you had beliefs that were taught to you from a young age, could you change them?

I’m from the North. All throughout my schooling I learned how awful the south was and we were the “good guys” during the Civil War and in the Civil Rights Era. I was raised to treat all people with respect no matter what they looked like. My parents’ values and some of the school’s values became my own and it wasn’t until college, that I was able to make my own values and shape my own understanding of the world, piece by piece and I’m still not done figuring out my values, morals, and beliefs.

If my parents taught me that skin color matters and not to respect people would I still have my current values and beliefs? If my school preached segregation would I believe in integration? I always think back to church. I have nothing but respect for people who convert to Catholicism on their own. There was a few people I knew in college who did it for themselves and not even because they were marrying another Catholic. I can’t honestly say if I would be a Catholic on my own. I’m Catholic because my parents raised me that way, not because I chose this on my own account. Sure, I still practice Catholicism and attend church. I even recently got married in the Catholic church because it was an expectation. It’s familiar and I, like many others, appreciate familiarity. Change is hard.

It’s easy to judge, especially in today’s world when life is so chaotic and information is so easy to access. I fear that because information is so easy to get, we think people need to be able to change and become molded to fit our ideals. At times my social media is nothing but people bashing each other. I get it. I don’t understand a lot of things either, but there’s always two sides to a coin.

The United States went into a panic when COVID19 became a reality and not just some disease halfway across the globe. People started to gather supplies and hoard things. This resulted in grocery stores becoming bare and essential items nonexistent. People were angry about such greediness.

I was also angry about the lack of supplies and people taking way more than necessary but when I heard the news of these empty grocery stores, the first thing I told my husband was we needed to get to the store. Did we really need groceries? No, in fact we would have been fine for a few days, but my instincts told me to get things before everything was gone. It became a competition of who could find toilet paper and pasta.

You see most people’s first thoughts were not to go help other people. It was to fend for your family and yourself. We criticize the masses, but gosh I was not the first to think of other people. It wasn’t until I saw all the posts about helping the elderly that I realized my mistake.

It was then that I saw the beauty of this Pandemic. People started to help each other out. People volunteered to make masks, feed students and hospital workers, and pick up items for others who were at the most risk. Teachers started organizing parades and some companies still found a way to pay their employees.

The big buzz word of 2020 is social distancing. We shake our heads at the people we see still gathered in groups but again do they know better? Do they have parents at home to tell them to not go out? I get most of my “Don’t leave the house” information from Facebook. Do they have social media and if they do, do their friends post this information or is it just funny memes and tiktok videos? Do they even have internet access? How are some of our most vulnerable, such as our homeless population getting this information without libraries and other resources? Do we just shake our head and write a post about social distancing or do we inform and help?

This pandemic hasn’t been easy. Half of my family is in the at risk category, including myself. I worry about them and get teary eyed when people suggest we should just continue on with our lives and worry more about the economy than lives.

Yet, maybe these are some of the people who are out of work and aren’t getting paid at this time? They need the economy back to normal in order to thrive. This makes it a little more understandable.

The problem always boils down to what we know and our experiences. If you have no connection to what’s going on it’s going to be hard to empathize. I didn’t empathize with China at first. I literally thought, “Gee that sucks but it’s not my problem.” We need to change our mindset to value all human life. Maybe this is what this virus is trying to teach us? When bad things happen, it’s not just one person or country’s problem it’s all of our problems. However, we can’t just complain at what people are doing or not doing. We have to inform, teach, and reach out, from 6 feet away of course.

I realize not everyone can do this. For some people sitting at home is all they should be asked to do during this time, but some people might have the energy to do more, only they can decide that.

With COVID19, I didn’t realize my students were already going to have to ask themselves “What side of history do I want to be on?” We can’t change the virus but we can control our actions, our thoughts, and our words. Take time to reflect during this time, be the thread not the scissors that cuts us apart.

The Comeback Kid

Dear Reader,

I may or may not know you but I feel you. I understand life is not easy or fair and shit happens for no rhyme or reason. I’m here to tell you this moment or these moments that are crushing you, are what makes people come alive and determine our ability to be that Comeback Kid we see in the media. It’s not how we fall, but how we rise that matters.

Maybe you have recently experienced loss or heartache. That person you gave your life to is now the one who also took everything away. The pain stings of wasted time, energy, and hope. You put on a brave face because people rely on your positive energy and life even though you are struggling to just get out of bed in the morning. The pain is like rocks that suffocate your spirits but it is in these times that you need to stop and let others take care of some of these emotional burdens. It is NOT your job to help everyone else. This is the time to care for your SELF. This is the time to be selfish as you rediscover what makes you happy and you again. Go out and dance, rediscover hobbies and if they aren’t as fun find new ones. It may seem that life as you know it is over, but where you are is not a good place. Look instead to see this as the time to restart.

You might be the athlete who in a single moment saw their dreams go away as they fell to the ground. A scream pierces the arena and you realize it’s you. All those hours of slaving away at the gym, all those miles run, and all that pain from torture you put your body through is now wasted in a second from an injury the cripples the once powerful machine you have spent years creating. This moment will run through your head and the only way to get rid of it is to beat it. This moment will not define your accomplishments. How you react and overcome this moment will be your true story. The road bump is great but it doesn’t have to be the end. You create your destiny, not some injury.

To the one who has recently been diagnosed with illness, there is no way to sugar coat this. Sometimes, life just plain sucks and it’s not fair. These are the moments to find your values and live it. Use your friends and family and hold them close. Let others take care of you. Listen to the doctors, but also listen to your heart. Miracles happen and I believe love and support are part of that process. Believe you are the fighter everyone knows but also know it’s OK to be angry, curse, and scream but it’s not OK to let this defeat you.

For my people who are lost, I see you. When everything seems complicated and everyone else has it figured out know they really don’t. Go out and experience life because through experiences is where and how we find ourselves. Being lost and confused on what you are doing is scary because it’s unstable, but I envy you because you are not stuck in some box yet. Think of this as a way to figure out what you really want in life. It might take you weeks and it might take you your whole life but at least you can say you are doing this for YOU and not just to check boxes. Remember, life is not one single destination but it’s made up of tiny moments that take us on a journey of self discovery.

So no matter which Comeback Kid you are, I believe you will bounce back. Time is key. Though we want instant fixes, it’s the process of going through trying times that makes us into someone stronger than we ever thought possible. You have the tools. Now go out and live.

Sincerely,

Bee the Thread

I had the Best Interview of my Life, and then I Cried

It’s been a hard school year. A really hard and challenging school year. There’s 7 days left with students, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and I’m dying for the stress of student behavior, academics, grades, and planning to be over. I’m running on survival mode and just trying to keep positive but by the end of the day I’m a grumpy, hot, mess.

There have been times this year I really hated my job. I felt like a failure and didn’t even know if I wanted to be a teacher anymore. It didn’t help that the winter was long and bitterly cold, but I was in a funk I could not shake. Along with being a miserable winter my district was planning on cutting 100 teachers and staff and I knew my job was in danger. Fast forward to March and I found out I was involuntarily transferred to another middle school. I was fortunate to still have a job. However, my current school, despite the challenge, has been my home for three years. It is where I’ve grown the most as an educator and even though I’ve had some really tough days I am proud of my kids and the work of my co-workers.

I decided this transfer was my sign to start applying for elementary jobs. I have been wanting to try elementary again since that’s what I always intended to teach. I also knew I should not give up on teaching yet until I try a different grade level and school. I started to get excited about the idea of being back with younger kids and was hopeful for the next year.

I have probably applied for over 50 jobs. About half of those jobs have been internal positions in which I thought I would at least get an interview but have only heard back from three schools. I knew it would be hard since so many people in my district got moved to different buildings and probably wanted a say in what they were teaching. I have gotten a lot of denial emails and started to feel down again. Maybe elementary was just not in the cards?

Last Thursday, after having another challenging day at school, I was sitting up in bed when I got an email at 9:30 PM stating I was selected for an interview for an elementary position. The school district that sent me this email is the complete opposite of my current school district. My current district has a high percentage of kids in poverty while this district has a significant lower poverty percentage. I was in shock that I had finally heard from this school district having applied back in February. My hopes rose again and I started to panic. This was a HUGE interview for me. I started to go back and look at all my lessons making a list of things I have done that make me stand out. This district was stable, my current district not so much, and I knew this was a big opportunity that I could not pass up.

Today was my interview. I was nervous but felt more prepared than my previous interviews. The questions went well. I felt like I had more specific examples and the interview became very conversational and not just question and then answer. I started to feel comfortable and confident.

We had finished up questions and I started to ask my own questions, when one of the principals asked, “You could be moving districts, what would your students say if they found out you were moving to another school district?”

This is when I lost it. I started to cry in front of five strangers, four principals and the director of elementary education.

You see, I have not told my students I had been transferred because I was waiting until I knew for sure where I would be in case I got an elementary position. I had been dreading this conversation since I found out I had been cut from my building. I did not want my students to think I was another person leaving them behind. Despite all their flaws, I care for these kids so much. I wont’ lie, I complain about them but am the first to defend them to people outside of my school.

My students are tough to like sometimes, but so easy to love. They say and do things that they shouldn’t but they are MY kids and I love them all individually. Sometimes, they just need someone to listen and care. Their stories are heart breaking and when I’ve sat and gotten to know them it puts everything in perspective. You see, that’s all they want. They want to be heard but people often see the behavior and start the judgment before they even get to know the students.

So after crying, I was honest with my interviewers. I said they would miss me and question why I was leaving. I have felt this guilt about applying outside the district because I know that even though I don’t always feel like a good teacher, I am good for these kids. My students deserve good teachers too, but I want some control in my destiny and this is why I was applying to other schools.

All of the people at my interview could tell I cared. Heck, this was the first time I realized just how much I care. I think all the stress had been building up from this year and I finally had my breaking point. I got an apology from the principal who asked the question and another principal told me tears were a sign of sincerity and passion. She also said to keep my head held high and that every student deserves that kind of love.

I should hear back from this district within the next week or two. I literally put my heart and soul into that interview. Gosh, I even had an Oscar worthy cry session in front of them so I know despite what the results might be, I did my best.

I wish education was truly equal. I wish all students had the same opportunities. I wish we were given more funding for students who need emotional and behavioral support instead of all the cuts. I wish teachers, paras, and all other support staff were treated with dignity and respect. I wish so many things for the sake of education, but unfortunately more negative things have happened lately than positive.

I know I can’t change policies or funding, but I can try and be a change for my students whoever they may be the next year.

Mama didn’t Raise a Quitter, but maybe she should Have?

“Larissa, you seriously don’t have to finish that drink,” my friend proclaimed worried watching me take a deep breath holding a rather large drink in my hands.

“Mama didn’t raise no quitter!” I exclaimed in a drunken state chugging the remainder of the drink in one giant gulp. I had just finished a drink called the Road Raper, which got its’ name from the large amount of alcohol in the drink which included EverClear among many others. I previously had been at another bar and was already quite drunk before deciding to do this drinking challenge.

Even though I was successful in my endeavor to defeat the Road Raper (I still have the cup to prove it) the trip home was not very successful. I still remember barely making it to my bed and watching the ceiling spin until I finally threw up the massive amount of alcohol in my stomach. The next day I regretted my decision and thought maybe mama should have told me it’s OK to quit sometimes.

Now don’t get me wrong, because my mom raised me not to quit is the reason I’ve been successful in many aspects of my life. I would have never survived training for my first marathon in one of the worse winters we’ve had in a long time without the don’t quit mentality. I’m constantly trying to push myself to do new things and prove people wrong and a lot of that stems from my up bringing of hard work results in a huge pay off. In many ways this is true but I also think “don’t quit” can be a dangerous mantra.

For example, growing up we never missed school unless we had a fever or puking our guts out. Now in my adult life, I tell myself I can’t miss work and am pretty sure I’ve gone to work with a fever and never even knew it. There has been so many times I’ve probably should have stayed home but didn’t want to appear weak or make other people do extra work because of my absence. When in fact, it is good to take a break especially when one is sick in order to not get worse or others sick.

Another thing that worries me about the don’t quit mentality is the impact it can have on personal relationships. For almost three years I dated a guy who had no real interests in me but I was smitten and thought it would eventually work out. I should have blocked his number after the first year, but instead hung on to the idea that one day our stars would align and we would be both be happy together. Instead, I wasted my time on someone who only wanted to hang out when he was bored.

Now, in my situation I at least just had someone who was harmless, just didn’t want any commitment. Some people don’t want to quit a relationship because it could be dangerous for their safety, they’re manipulated into thinking they need this person, or they have a family with this person and think they must stay for the purpose of their family. If they walk out on this relationship they are quitting on their family which is not healthy either for mental stability especially if this relationship is toxic.

Careers are another huge thing that society tells us we shouldn’t ever leave or quit. Yes, people tell you to have a job that makes you happy but people also hate on those who don’t work and make money. When you quit a job, sometimes it feels like you’re leaving a family or betraying people for your own selfish reasons but is it really that bad or is it just what we think people think?

It’s hard to find a balance of “is my job tough or do I hate my job?” which is something I’m struggling with currently. I’m constantly thinking is the mental strain worth the money and benefits or would I be happier working at Starbucks? Is it my career or is it the building? Do I need to go back to school? Or am I just lazy and need to suck it up? These questions haunt me and I’m sure others feel the same way. For me, I’m afraid it won’t be better at another place or another career. Is the grass always greener or am I really in a sucky situation where I need to escape while I’m still ahead and not completely stuck? I guess no one knows until they take that chance.

Quitting is never easy which is why many people just suck it up but it can be such a relief once it is said and done. I remember the day I decided to quit basketball after my freshmen year. To this day it’s one of the hardest things I ever have done. I knew I was disappointing my family but I seriously hated my life that year I played high school basketball even though I loved the sport. I felt like I was letting my younger self down who always dreamed of being a varsity girl’s basketball player but it wasn’t worth the constant pit in my stomach before practice. Yes, I let a lot of people down but in the end no one really cared that I quit and I was happier because of it. I was able to focus more on running where I loved my teammates and felt like I belonged.

One person I’ve always admired is my youngest brother who doesn’t take shit from anyone. Maybe it’s because he was always smaller and knew he had to be tough, but he never let anyone get the best of him. Recently, he got an offer to help manage his college basketball team. After being disrespected and feeling like he was doing way more than he should have to do, he quit mid season because he knew he didn’t deserve to be treated the way he did. Even though many of us tried to convince him to stay for the sake of his twin, he stuck to his gut and is happier because of it. He is a prime example of quitting doesn’t mean you’re weak. It can mean you have the strength to know your worth and leave a situation that doesn’t benefit you.

So instead of saying mama didn’t raise a quitter, I’m changing my phrase to mama raised a fighter. A fighter has the ability to know when to persevere through the struggle and the courage to know when enough is enough.

Quiet Girl

4 years old,

Preschool time out,

That’s when you realized adults like quiet children,

Not those who shout.

“Don’t you ever talk!”

Quiet Girl

3rd grade,

Thought you were helping,

Ended up making more of a mess.

At least you have your book,

“Listen more, talk less”

Quiet Girl

5th grade,

Thought you could finally understand,

But this math doesn’t make sense,

Be brave enough to raise a hand,

Got scolded for asking a question

“Did you not pay attention to the lesson?”

Quiet Girl

Middle School,

Friends far and few,

Find comfort in solitude.

Rowling, Meyer, King

“Why are you always reading in your room?”

Quiet Girl

High school,

Keep to yourself,

Lost in a mind where thoughts could be safe,

Schools, Sports, Sometimes Social,

“Wait, does she ever talk?”

Quiet Girl

College

Introvert, what is that?

Realized other people’s opinions don’t matter anyway,

One can be heard but, doesn’t have to be loud,

“Talk more, you have a lot to say”

Quiet Girl

Work life,

Put on a show from 9 to 4,

Find time to be successful and social.

One takes precedence over the other,

“Sorry, I need to be by myself.”

Quiet Girl

Cats, Media, and Prejudice

It was only a matter of time before I wrote a “crazy cat lady blog” and today is the day. Anyone who follows me on Instagram or Snapchat has seen the many pictures of my beloved cat, Gryffin. Yes, I am another youthful American who probably loves their pet more than most humans and acts like it’s my child. However, this post is not simply why my cat is the best animal in the whole wide world (which he is) but it’s about how I hated cats most of my life.

What?? How does the self proclaimed cat lady claims she once hated cats? Well, growing up my Dad was deathly allergic to anything with fur so we never had a pet. Thus, my only way of knowing which pet was the best was based on what I saw on TV, books, and experiences with childhood friends who had pets. Most of my classmates liked dogs more and it was seen as “uncool” to like cats more than dogs so naturally I was a dog person even though I never had much experience with dogs or cats.

Plus for the most part, cats have always had a bad reputation when it comes to what is portrayed on the media. My earliest memory of seeing a cat on TV was watching Disney’s animated version of Cinderella. The cat in that movie is literally named Lucifer and scared the hell out of me as a kid. In 2001, the movie Cats vs Dogs was released and cats were the bad guys. Evil villains are often shown sitting on a chair petting a fluffy cat of some sort and black cats are associated with bad luck. Meanwhile, dogs have always been given a heroic role in movies such as Air Bud, Lassie, and Balto just to name a few.

So most of my life, I assumed one day I would get a dog because dogs were the best. I mean who doesn’t want a loyal companion who gives you unconditional love? When I moved to Arizona in 2015, my first roommate had a cat named Remix. Now at this point in my life I didn’t hate cats but they still weren’t my favorite. I was not at all opposed to my roommate having a cat because I figured it would just do its’ own thing anyway. Little did I know that this cat would change my views of all cats for the better. Remix was the most chill animal I had ever met and she did like humans. I would often be laying on the couch and she would just lay on me which shocked me. I thought cats didn’t cuddle but she did, on her own terms of course. It made me realize that this cat wasn’t too shabby.

When I moved back to Iowa, I knew eventually I would get my own pet and again assumed it would be a dog. My long term goal was to eventually own or rent a house and then get a dog because I didn’t want a dog in an apartment. Troy and I would always talk about one day getting a dog and we would be jealous of those who had dogs in the apartment building. About a year after I moved in to my current apartment, I had animal fever. I liked all the local shelters on Facebook and felt tortured every time I saw the sweet animals’ faces. One day, I saw a post that said they were in desperate need of cat adoptions and they were on sale for $15. I had my friend go with me to the shelter just to “look” at the cats because my mantra the last few years has been “well why not?” Well nestled in a box was Gryffin and long story short I took him home two days later and my life changed for the better that day. I finally understood why people were so obsessed with their pets because I became obsessed with mine.

If I were to ask random people what qualities cats had they might say lazy, scared, moody, and antisocial. Whereas, people may describe dogs as loyal, loving, and playful. Now that I have a cat who is loving, playful and loves humans I often wonder where did the stereotypes come from? Is it from human experience or does the media really play that much of a role when it comes to determining which pets are the best?

Now what if I were to ask you what qualities women have? What about men, Hispanics, African Americans, homosexuals, atheists, Christians, Democrats, Republicans? What do people think? When a person makes an assumption what is it based on? Is it truth? Is it a one time experience? Or is it what they’ve seen on the news, movies, or TV shows?

This is the problem with society. We lump everyone and everything in categories and we sometimes forget that just because someone is associated with a group does not mean anything about their character or traits. It is as simple as cats and dogs. Many cats are just as loving and playful as dogs and there can be some pretty crazy dogs out there. (I mean have you seen or read Cujo??)

I am guilty of having prejudice against people I don’t know. We all have done it at some point in our lives. I read once in a psychology class we put people in groups because it’s a way to make sense of everything in our brain, but we also can train our brains to rethink judgement upon others. No one should be judged based on their race, sex, gender, religion or looks. This is why I always encourage people to get out and experience life. I know it can be hard, I’m an introvert and would rather stay at home trust me, but the more experiences a person has outside of their normal the more likely a person can combat their internal prejudice. Experience is the greatest knowledge we can get.

So remember cats can be cool too. You just have to give them a chance, like anyone else.

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A Reflection of 2018: Family, Love, Travel

The past few years I have been anxiously awaiting the next year because those years were either disappointing or uneventful. 2018 I am pleased to say was different. 2018 was not easy, there was heartache and struggle but also love and adventure. Here are the few things that really impacted my 2018.

Family

Family is the biggest blessing I have and continued to have in my life. It is the thing that keeps me going on my weakest days. This year even though my family is now all separated by distance, we were still able to bond and be there for each other. In March, we all came together to watch and cheer on the twins’ basketball team get 2nd at the state tournament. . In April, we stood in solidarity as we said good bye to our beloved Papa and supported each other through tears and shared memories. In May, we watched the last of the Fab 5 graduate high school and celebrated with friend’s and family. The holidays were not the same as we were never all together, but we can reflect and laugh at past memories as we make new ones in the years to come.

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Travel

After moving from Arizona in 2016, I had not traveled much which made me antsy and in 2018 the travel bug hit me hard. Troy and I were able to visit his mom in Florida during spring break. It was a fabulous time of sun, sand, waves, and relaxation.

During the month of July, I traveled to Tanzania which was probably the craziest most beautiful adventure I have ever done. The people I traveled with and the locals we met were some of the greatest most genuine human beings. I climbed mountains, danced with local school children, went on a safari, learned about a different culture, and played in the waves of the Indian Ocean. I learned to step out of my comfort zone and became less ignorant about the world. I know it can be expensive to travel but I encourage everyone to travel even if it’s just exploring a new town or city. We grow and become better people when we leave the comfort’s of our home.

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Running

2018 was the first year since high school that I really took running seriously again. I had only done one race a year until this year. In 2018 I ran 3 5ks, a 10 mile race, 6 mile leg in a relay, and a half marathon. Even though my last race of the year didn’t go as I planned and I didn’t make any PRs I am still happy I raced more than I previously had in recent years. In 2019, I am running my first marathon and hope to continue to get stronger mentally and physically.

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Started Writing Again

WordPress informed me today that I have been a member for one year. Even though I don’t write on here nearly as much as I would like, I am just so happy I started writing again for myself and sharing my writing with others. My goal since I was a little girl was to become a writer. I know I have a long way to go and need to get serious about my dreams but at least I started. I hope I continue to write, share ideas, and bring people together though writing.

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Love

One of the best things that has happened in 2018 was becoming engaged to Troy. I never thought another human could make me so happy but he is definitely my person. I’m constantly stressed and overwhelmed, but this man is always there to help me pick up my pieces. He supports me on all my runs, crazy adventures, and encourages me to achieve all my goals. Even though we don’t like any of the same sporting teams, we still make a great team. Here’s to wedding planning and becoming Mrs. Gaul in 2019.

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I just want to end this sappy reflection post by saying thank you to all the people who have been reading this blog the last year. It has truly made my year to know I have people who support me and this blog. Overall, 2018 was a pretty damn good year. 2019 is going to be another year of change, new beginnings, and hopefully achieving goals.