Calcium
[I've been watching my debts/ and debits and trying
to ignore others deposits and plaque]
Sure–Your replacement of me is-
low in fat/ lighter on your stomach
but retains most of the other qualities
you enjoy about me.
But I–/ with a thickness/ full
and as seductive as va va voom
lips and legs gawked from
construction yards.
Please note, I am still
prominement in triangles
and charts/ I am fundamentally
part of life.
And I help build the remains,
that are left,
behind when the flesh has rotted.
I am inside you already.
5-15-11 (5:28 PM)
Working Notes – I figured I should try to post something past my writers block.
I’ve been continuing this blog on the more aptly named
“ChesterintheRye” which can be found here on WordPress as well
at ChesterintheRye.wordpress.com
-C. Kent
January 22nd, 2011 in
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The Duty of the Jury (Subtitled – The Rapture) [Personal Blog #2]
So I lied when I said that the next part would be coming tomorrow last time. Actually, it was moreso a miscalculation of my ability to not procrastinate, for which I’m sorry.
When we had last left off, I was just reporting to the courthouse, and was headed to the Jury Pool room. Before getting there, I had to venture through the rain and gain entery into the Courthouse, which entering most goverment builds in New York City means through a metal dectector. A metal dectector that had a metal detector line that stretched from Hell to Sodam, and was quite helpful by informing me that I carry way too much luggage with me at all times. Bookbag notwithstading but in my slack pockets I (seriously) had something like a brush, napkins from the last wear and like 17 pennies. All in my pocket, no idea how they got there, and a comedic wonder of why I hadn’t thought to consolidate them (the pennies) into less of a rattle/jangling.
Anyway, the Jury Duty Pool room was a large, expansive room full of peple of whom I hadn’t even imagined existed. All walks of life, from every end of Bronx County. Familiar faces but nobody that I knew. Whereas in comparison,many of the other potential jurors seemed to have received their notices at the same time as their long lost best-friend from high school, or someone from their World Civilization 2(Two) class at college. However, armored with my crossword puzzles, Suduku, Ken Ken, and various reading materials, I was ready. Ready for what, though?
We all checked in when a roll call was literally called, and then what I’m calling “The Rapture of the Lucky began.” Right away, potential jurors who had various timely issues were given the opportunity to check to see if their issue would allow them to postpone their juror panelling service. In the previous sentence “timely” is the most important word. If you had something else to do that day like shower, or watch tv…well no. If you did not read, write and or properly understand English (such as recent immigrant) well then you were able to postpone. (Make note of that though.) If you had childcare issues, including but not limited to being pregnant and scheduled/expecting to give birth within the next week, or you had a child to pick up after school that day and no prior arrangement had been made for such then you were able to postpone. If you had a sick child at home, and would actually go get a doctor’s note to prove it, well then you were free. Another timely issue was if you, yourself, were sick today, and the exempter could see it then you were free to go home and crawl into a corner or your bed. A sick spouse or Fluffy puking? Nope. Previous things that qualified for exemption/postponement of service such as being a Doctor, Police Officer, Judge, etc, no longer mattered. It’s more apparent of why these exemptions dont exist after you look at the Panel Selection Pool after the Rapturing.
Suddently, it seemed as if God only favored those who had children or didn’t comprehend the words that I am typing to you right now. Mathematically, I would have to say that about 32% of the people there stood up and were magicallyunaware of the English language and had some friend who was just there accompanying said person to interprete for them . On their own free time or day off from work. In a room that originally had 500 people there were just roughly 350, but really that had to have been somewhat less accurate estimate considering like 150 more uncounted heads technically existed inside the pregant women with childen waiting at bus stops alone. Anyone given their chance to fly free did. Some of the pregant women (oh, and the expecting fathers rolling them) rolled free. Thus that leaves us with roughly 200 people left.
Then the people with actual medical illnesses not including just timely being ill, but rather they had serious medical issues and the documentation to prove it. That kicked out about 40 more people to Freedom. In less than 1 (one) hour we had gone from roughly over 500 (five-hundred) people to being left with about 140 (one hundred-forty) people left! 140 (One-Forty) left!
Read the rest of this entry »
November 29th, 2010 in
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Take Care of Yourself
The idea of taking care of one’s self seems so American and timely in today’s day and age? There”s a constant echoing from Media (ie Reality TV, Talk Shows), Ego’s and a new sense of entitlement is quite persuasive in American society. Everyone wants to be loved by everyone yet so quite often we don’t take care of ourselves nor do we truly seem to listen to each other. To me, it’s become quite so apparent that the idea of duty is another chore. I found this quite evident in my recent 3 (three) week stint serving jury duty.
From the OED (Oxford English Dictionary)
[as modifier] (of a visit or other undertaking) done from a sense of moral obligation rather than for pleasure:a fifteen-minute duty visit
When I received my notice in the mail to report to the jury pool, I had no idea what to expect. The only things I “knew” about the processes behind selection of a panel and the proceedings of a Civil Case had been what I had seen on TV. Or back when I was in high school and my French Teacher suddenly went vanishing for almost 9 (nine) weeks. Images of 12 Angry Men, and being sequestered with emotional angry beasts jurors. Hell, I didn’t even know if I was to get paid. Yet, all I could feel was an impending sense of doom.
Part 2 tomorrow.
[Chester Kent]
November 26th, 2010 in
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That Place
“There might have been a time when I would give myself away/Oh, once upon a time I may have given a damn/but now here we are…so whataya want from me?” (PINK not Adam Lambert)
On the topic of a building at my alma mater high being built that addresses all the inefficiencies or all the deficiencies in the building when I attended there?
“Whataya want from me” because I have student loans and dreams and other things to pay for that do not include child support, satellite tv, or steak dinners. I wish it did (even the kid ugh I’m a parent when I get lonely) but it doesn’t. I don’t understand how a teacher that coordinated a program for advance placement of children at an already gifted and talented school for middle and school children gets credit. Yes…she died from cancer. But so what the fuck what? Other teachers from the school that have not directly touched my life more than she but that I look at with a fondness go unnamed? Memorial? Shenanigans. Gifted and talented? Apply some logic. I understand that some buildings get named but why does she get to go unnamed when other people go unlisted?
Cancer is a problem. On the day to day (ie daily basis) I have dealt or have seen people afflicted. As a human being I have known pain. I do not in any way discount that she may have suffered; I take offense at the dedication of a building without the consent or the will of the general population. French, Spanish (and teleconference Italian) where the Foreign Language options offered, so I conjecture was there a vote? Why isn’t it the (insert school name) memorial high school. Most buildings named in these days in memory of something are in dedication for someone who lived or died champion a cause that is associated with their name. She lived her life as a teacher, and died as a teacher. In my case, quite often it felt as if there were more than separate things, and I know that I attended that school to learn. Maybe it might be an issue I have with the school (that particular institution of teachers and the application of polices) that bogs me down. I seriously have an attitude problem with remembrances named and representing someone that I don’t find exceptional or amazing in the time frame. The weird thing is that I can remember one or two events happening around her (actually only one) and in that event I don’t think she shined or showed exceptional or an extraordinaire ability for compassion.
I speak to this as a person who (strives) to be an educator that excels. In my heart of heart, if I died tomorrow I would like my (former) students to look at me with fondness and ferocity that when or if the time came to argue that I receive (deserve or) a building in my name that they more than establish a reason for my remembrance and that they base it not on what I’ve done but rather by how I treated other people (or how other people) on their periphery can remember me.
The sad thing is…that my dissent is not bitterness but sounds like it. But in the years I spent in that building or the days lettered BDF any memory I have of this person now so remembered as if she was more than a teacher (which is tough as it) but as a metahuman. Seriously fight with me because I need to know how she was Superhero when I myself and in my own particular experience have dealt with people in that eight year time constraint that said “Ca va?” (how are you?) and actually tried to mean it. I am sorry, or apathetic to the hows and whys she has died, really I am, but in my own heart of hearts, I know what type of teacher I’ve tried to be…even when just subbing. I know that when the time comes for me to be judge that my name could stand up or will fail…So I ask…Seriously, why her? Why not someone else? I’m not championing them either (which is why I didn’t even name names because I don’t believe that some of those people who were there were actually present to my own specific needs or wants.) but why her? Why not a spanish teacher? Your favorite English or science teacher? Again, the things she may (or may not have) inspired in regards to the advancement of the IB (International Baccalaureate) program for the school have nothing to do with me (or any given number of students) there sitting her regular ole regents class before Regents went all normal (not IB but still harder than standard Regents) for today’s children.
I know any amount of people suffering from ailments or who have died? Why not the car crash victim who went to the school? Why not the teacher who told me my zipper was down 5th period after gym but before 6th period class? Why not the English teacher who let a friend pass because he believed she had a chance? Convince me. She died and I regret being informed of how. In a culture of so called “gifted and talented” I don’t have one memory of feeling either from her, and there are in my own particular mind others who do deserve it, even though I see no reason why the building wasn’t just left to burn to the ground in 1914. Convince me.
Pass this on if you do or don’t feel me.
[CK]
November 21st, 2010 in
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From “Signs of the Apocalyspe”
November 4th, 2010 in
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Just so that we are all on the same page….I have jury duty- not the panel selection phase but actual I am Juror # Number for who knows how fucking long. I would try to entertain you with ideas about how much govt. sucks, and that change is neither good nor bad, but just nature, but unfortunately, I got to try to solve all my financial issues before that ill $40 dollars a day gets it in. Fun.
November 3rd, 2010 in
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Culture of Poverty (or “Out from Under?”)
Recently I’ve had a lot of conversations with people in terms of etiquette, morals, culture and the basic social circumstances thus trying to educate, and become more informed of myself, and in total strengthen not just my own awareness, but the awareness of others. I’m not going to lie, some interactions were strongly [I mean...STRONGLY] informative of my own personal brand of crude interjection into the world; There’s something about having someone literally step on your toes, and not noting that the event occurred. One, I regret not being informative. Yet, there were a few others (actually, all the others I’m thinking of…) there came a point, where the conversation became not butting head, not circles, but frustration, not necessarily with the other person or persons involved but with the fact that the only conclusions we came from were that we were pretty powerless because of the system that’s in place, and that we have to live with these systems. Compound this to the different articles, news stories and blogs that I subscribe to, and well, I don’t know what to do, when I see both sides, make informed choices, listen to my heart, strive, sometimes (most times lately, actually) fail and try to attain some sense of closure while remaining realistic about getting up at some point tomorrow.
The overall hierarchy of my unease stems from feeling some sort of pressure from an omnipresent “system” that is spoken of in hush rumors from the “hood” of Buffalo, NY, mentioned in the hallways of NYC schools, and quite possibly confirmed of in hidden underground chambers below IVY league campuses. The problem I have with this rationalization of “systemic opposition” is that it is the opposition is plausibly amorphous. Often I’ve felt like just when I think that I’ve figured out how to remove myself out from under its overwhelming weight, it just gets heavier, and if I don’t break (into pieces, or have a breakdown) and even if I do, the floor under me probably isn’t too happy to have to have their ceiling endangered radically because of my fight.
Being amorphous this “systemic opposition” might be different for someone else. The system or systems I see influencing me or my cultures isn’t necessarily the same for ever. In a blog written by Chris Norwood, she gives examples of the systemic oppositions that can occur in her experience as a social worker dealing with HIV/AIDS infected women and their families. The blog speaks to how the allotment or rather dis-allotment of federal funds has (well to cheat my own vocabulary) “screwed” these families and quite possibly left bacteria that possibly could grown into an infection that breeds negative media images, or arkward experiences that we have with some young adults on the subway. One heartbreaking statement she makes is
“Since 2005, the percentage of Bronx women among New York City women’s HIV/AIDS deaths has risen from 28% to 32%; we don’t know how many AIDS orphans these women have left behind-even with the well known Bloomberg Administration data obsession — that extends to having scooter patrols to count up potholes –”
How many children are out there grieving, acting out or in need of social services that exist somewhere? I suppose that such is a generic question that can be applied cross culturally, objectively. I think of an episode of “Law and Order:SVU” in which child protective services misplaced a child in their care. The social worker in charge of that case was neither altruistic nor stoic and while her actions were the definition of neglectful, she felt remorses but was still obviously overworked even though she probably needn’t be because of a lack of funding. How many news stories have we read of in the past few months about children under their umbrella that have been abused or have died? Yet, cases of abused low-income/lower-income children have become altogether too rote after they break and once the initial public outrage (read:interest) in the story, coverage of it or its follow-up often receives byline (if that) mentioning. Yet, if a middle to white collar child is treated in the same manner, a front page newspaper article and ongoing reports of the search are sent in seemingly hourly. Hell, I shudder to mention this idea because of its triteness, and how distasteful it feels to compose the sentence;the queasiness continues when thinking of the number of federal laws that are passed that are named after or were inspired because of missing children of higher incoming earning adults.
While Norwood’s examples speak of just one specific population, it still makes me think of the serial unfair situations where I’ve thought to myself that I could feel what was happening, and yet, despite that awareness, something kept urging me down the road. I mean, I’m here. However, where exactly is “here?” It certainly is not Shang-ra-la.
In my own life, I think of the opportunities I’ve had and the ones that just were and aren’t feasible because of decisions made before me. I wish I were at liberty to share some of the things I think that have negatively influenced me in my life, but that’s not really fair to the other people who were there, and our existence. I wish I could sum up every experience into a wonderful feeling like Nikki Giovanni does in her poem “Nikki-Rosa” For instance, take the lines
“because they never understand
Black love is Black wealth and they’ll
probably talk about my hard childhood
and never understand that
all the while I was quite happy”
because love isn’t necessarily the kind of wealth that pays the bills, and the energy I spend trying to dodge my quite realistic fear of a growing a debt……ABRUPT ENDING. See my working notes.
Repost of links-
“Those Bronx Bad Boys” by Chris Norwood. “Huffington Post” “http://www.huffingtonpost.com/chris-norwood/those-bad-bronx-boys_b_766366.html”
“Nikki-Rosa” by Nikki Giovanni. Reposted from the Poetry Foundation.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=177827
Working Notes – Not finished. I’m still trying to organize parts two and three in relation to this format. I think that any actual discourse might be too heavy thus weakened by presenting it all at once. I’m not even sure why I felt the need to lead with Norwood’s blog. Also I know I didn’t do real MLA citations. I’m tired.
[Chester Kent]
[Get in the Rye.com]
10..20.10
www.gitr.telldat.net
Quick Error on DeGrassi
I normally pride DeGrassi (the tv show) for being pretty spot on with its cues on teenage behaviors
However, Episode 1019 “Still Fighting Pt. 1″ had a really, really literary allusion and it almost made me go. Ugh.
October 18th, 2010 in
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Nada…
So I log into Subcentral everyday and everynight, and I find maybe a job but when I try to click it, I get a notification that says “This job is currently being offered to substitute. Please try again later.” It’s completely and utterly frustrating.” My bills are beyond backed up. They are just overdue.
I looked into this Newark Teaching residency and with it too seems futile. Past the preliminary application, there’s an actual application fee, and if I make it to the next round, I’d have to take note just one but deux, yessiree TWO Praxis exams which are not cheap at all. Then I’d also have to take the GRE again since my previous score is a little bit dated. I counted close to near $400 dollars to possibly get accepted to this program, and I have come to my uncommon senses that maybe it’s not worth it.
I interviewed for a temp agency for some clerical/office work, and I did well on their simulated tests. However, I guess if there’s no work, then all is fair and well that they have my info on file. Would rather that they use it.
I’m wondering if it would be rude of me to some of the previous schools I’ve worked at just to say “Wassup. I’m still a loser who likes being a guest teacher.” Is it that too forward of a thing to do. On one hand, I think it would be the most expedient way of getting my face back out there beyond luck of the phone system. However, on the other hand, the thing about being a decent guest teacher (sub) is that you kind of want schools to list after you. That way, when standing up for yourself and not being just bending over to the impending hazing by a student, you feel they may have your back because they think you might have somewhere else to be instead of there.
Either way, this sitting on my ass and reading every single news story or magazine article known to man about current education flaws is becoming both obsessive and repressive. I want to be back in the classroom so bad. So I’m not really sure what I should be off doing?
[Chester Kent]
GetintheRye
www.gitr.telldat.net
10.11.10
