I shouldn't "SHOULD" all over myself!

So, I SHOULD be working on completing my 40 page thesis document (RIGHT NOW) so the $80,000.00 USD I spent on graduate school won't be in vain... but since beginning this blog thingy the other day... I find myself thinking about it and wanting to write... to empty my "grey matter" so others can probe around in it and see their reflections in it or not! Wow, that was kinda Hamlet-ty! I DIGRESS... in more ways than one! HA!

There are all these "shoulds" I keep encountering in my life:

I SHOULD have been married by now.

I SHOULD have had children by now.

I SHOULD have become a famous actress by now.

I SHOULD, I SHOULD, I SHOULD, I SHOULD... ENOUGH!!!!

I SHOULD, BY NOW, know better than "should-ing" all over myself because it produces nothing more than a whole pile of shame and shoulds!

I received yesterday, via certified mail, my lay-off notice from the school district I gave only one school year to... I am happy to have finally received it. It was the most challenging teaching assignment I have ever had. I can say I hated my time there. I have never disliked a job as much as I disliked this one and I feel I "SHOULDN'T" have... perhaps because I learned so much about the students and the community in which I was teaching. Now, they SHOULD be unhappy and hate their lives, but they don't. They don't make excuses for where they live or HOW they live and they certainly don't complain as much as I did... but maybe I SHOULD give myself a break since I had no idea what I was getting myself into and these students' of mine and their friends and families grew up in it and are thriving... maybe just surviving... or really maybe thriving because they don't allow the poverty, and the crime, that surrounds them to dictate how they SHOULD feel about themselves, their lives, or their futures.

I, on the other hand, take things to heart a lot. I don't know WHO I think I SHOULD be, but often I feel like I need to be Wonder Woman to those I see as less fortunate than me. Is that arrogant? Perhaps. Maybe I am the less fortunate one because I haven't acquired the thick skin that most of my students have at such a young age, and I think I SHOULD have by my age. But I really feel a deep sense of need to give of myself to those that haven't had the same opportunities that I have been blessed with, but how, if when they look at me they see something so different from them just by the color of my skin? You see, I SHOULD have been born in another era. I SHOULD have been born another race. My skin SHOULD be a different color. Or should it? 

As the school year wound down, my students and some of their family members, stopped seeing my skin color as a disadvantage at reaching and teaching them... so much so, that at the end of the year, my students said, "AH, Ms. Cunningham you SHOULD come back here to teach next year!" "They SHOULDN'TA laid you off, you're the best teacher this school ever had!" I didn't know how to explain that when your position is eliminated and you've been told you're laid off you can't do anything about it. The funny thing is my students' knew how I felt about working there. They knew I didn't approve of a lot of their behavior, especially one class period. However, they also knew I loved them and they didn't get it... I don't get me sometimes either. Maybe it's because I SHOULD have had children by now... and I guess I DO... my students', many of them, are like the children I have yet to birth... IF that is even ever to happen. I do love them. I SHOULD love them, they came to love me even though I really SHOULDN'T have made it through the school year. I was determined to prove to some of my "brats" that it doesn't matter what color your skin is, you SHOULD try to embrace everyone because you CAN learn from anyone.

One disrespectful student disrupted my class one day to verbally punch me with, "Ms. Cunningham, you're not going to last here!" He meant the school year. At times I thought he might be right and perhaps to spite him, I stuck it out to the bitter end. This same student became one of my cheerleaders... he didn't like his classmates' being rude to me or even getting close to me because he felt protective of me in some ways... it was kind of sweet the seeming jealousy he acquired toward me. He shouldn't have had this transformation, but love does that sometimes. Love SHOULD NOT see color, or any other life circumstance get in the way of its transforming ways... I guess it didn't. I shouldn't have loved that student. I shouldn't miss any of them, but I do - that's what love SHOULD do... to me too.

I SHOULD get to work on my thesis now.

Dreams Realized...

I have had the fortunate luxury of having some of my dreams come true... but what do you do when they have "come true," or, "come to pass," or, "come to fruition?" 

There is something viscerally satisfying about the struggle of pursuing a dream that seems to wane upon realization... it seems to settle down into your toes like a fungal infection that goes undetected for a while... or maybe not... that's too dramatic.

It's just simply sweet to have a dream realized... perhaps the painful part is figuring out what to do when you have a dream realized. For instance, when I was 16 or 17, I saw my first dream car. It was what looked to me like a miniature Jaguar... what I discovered about this little classic car is that it was a 1966 122 S Volvo Amazon. What I didn't realize was how rare they had become at that fragile time of my teenaged years when everything was important and shaped who I'd become (eventually) after treading the shallow waters of the baby pool that was my adolescence. 

When I look back at this precious dream realized, I see that I was just as stubborn and hearty, as the body of this dream car I lusted for for sooooooo long. The 122 S Volvo Amazon is the reason Volvo has its reputation today for being the safest car on the road and having never seen a dead person pulled from the wreckage of one... I, on the other hand, have been unable to avoid accidents in their varied forms: car, heart, clothing, social, etc. I have, however, been able to survive these collisions because of my sturdy frame... but, back to the car...

The day I saw my first classic Volvo, it was over. I searched high and low for one of my own and whenever my little eye would spy one of these beauties I would squeal and guffaw and visibly salivate almost to the point of choking! The day I was able to take a test drive, actually sit in the passenger seat of the 4-speed dream running on 12-volts, I was beside myself. I was even more beside myself when my parents decided we could not afford it for my first car. That was okay. I couldn't drive stick at the time... so when I was blessed with my first car, a 1972 baby-blue VW Beetle, I learned quickly (all by myself) how to drive stick and then it only took me a measlely 15 years (after seeing my first classic Volvo) to FINALLY get my own 1967 122 S Volvo Amazon.

I drove Beepy Vuh-Leep, named for its penchant for beeping intermittently on its own, randomly and usually at awkward moments where hot men were sitting in their not-as-cool-cars at a stop light with us - perhaps to keep me humble - but I drove her till she decided she didn't like being driven and just wanted to sit in the driveway and watch as the other younger, newer models drove by with their precious cargo on board... I think she was trying to kill me at some points because the gas fumes that leaked would get to me. That is when I discovered Beepy was sick. She needed a lot of work like any antique that needed restoring... or any dream that has been deferred for a while... and so she saw her share of mechanics. She was blessed with many specialists, so usually their diagnosis of Beepy was not as bleak as how she responded when she was released from their care. 

At times it felt like Beepy didn't want to be with me in the driveway of our home, but on her own in an assisted care facility where she could relate to other classic Volvos! I didn't want to let her go... ever! And I didn't. Perhaps like a negligent family member, I ignored her cries for freedom to roam to another garage where she would have undoubtedly found more pleasant pastures. But there was something in me that thought I could help her. I could save her. I didn't have the ability or the technology; she would not become the Bionic Woman or the 6 Million Dollar Man VOLVO! She would become the hood ornament of my youth. A reminder of how I pursued a dream and didn't let go until it was realized and how it hurts to not see a dream realized right away and sometimes hurts more when it is realized and unable to be kept alive on your own gumption!

I was merely the second owner of my baby... my DREAM car... my California black license plated, 4-door, 4-speed, original 33lbs. of  ivory paint, 12-volt, 122 S Volvo Amazon. I felt so cool driving around town in her... sometimes scared when it felt like her brakes were going to fail, but cool nonetheless during a time in life where nothing seemed nor felt cool... and I'm not talking about my teens... remember I didn't get my "dream" car till 15 years after I saw my first one... I'm talking about my 30's...

Let's steer away from that for a moment. I will revisit my 30's on here at a later date. I want to continue to wax nostalgic on my dream car I had for a few years... yes, only a few years were had with the beauty, otherwise known as: Beepy Vuh-Leep, because as of a few weeks ago she went to her 3rd and final home. Let's hope it's her final home/resting place where she will be pampered and restored to her former glory... something I couldn't afford and didn't account for when I initially invested in her. Sometimes you don't realize what it takes to realize and, I guess, maintain a dream... but someone else may... and I hope it's this 3rd owner.

Knowing I will no longer have my dream car feels a little bitter and sweet. Sweet that I was blessed to realize a dream, bitter that it had to be let go. Yes, it was just a car with 33 lbs. of lead-based paint, but I didn't eat any of the paint so I'm still alive to attest to the fact that dreams can come true... even if it takes a while and you don't get to keep them forever... the memories will forever stay alive in my mind and on my flashdrive through megapixels and jpegs.