76.

i used to be a teacher before i was nothing. this is not to say that i am nothing, but in the land of professional identification, meaningful day jobs, and dictatorial schedules...i am but a feckless bubble floating on the sea. this sounds heavy, and at times it is, i assure you. however, most times i dig deep, seek purpose from within, and try to remember to go after each day with a fresh face and turn this unique opportunity of endless time into a unique opportunity of endless possibility.

so, as i said...i used to be a teacher. i've returned to some of the literature i chose to work with, dismiss, or use to influence my philosophy in the classroom.

i suppose i have this desire to know what kind of teacher i was. was i worthy of the coveted position that i held? did i deserve to stand in front of my teenage audience and have a hand in shaping their perspective on the world? i don't know that i'll ever know...i do hope to have the opportunity one day to do so again though.

there was one book, Cereus Blooms at Night, that i introduced to some of my students in a unit i created on human rights.

this was the first time i had read a book along with my students rather than reading it before assigning it, and coincidentally, it was also one book that i feared got too close to the line of emotionally-charged reading, and too much heartbreaking exposure for high schoolers. so i read it again and i read the review i wrote of it after i finished reading it the first time. i think that what i think is i'd probably teach it again...knowing the risks and the remarkable ability of high schoolers to tackle difficult topics and think critically even when faced with such conflict.

a review, from me to you. its an interesting book, a challenging read, and totally worth it.

Amidst the twisted plot filled with a defiance of, what Arundhati Roy describes as “the love laws that lay down who we should love and how much," the reader is exposed to different sets of circumstances that demand judgment. This judgment that the reader subconsciously makes is later deconstructed along with society's ideas of "should" and "should not." Throughout the novel, tortured souls practice forgiveness of pasts speckled like snail shells with stains of abandonment, deceit, and physical and mental abuse. Still these characters manage to appreciate the gentility of love while finding hope amidst their hurricane of life. They live in memories of goodness and in smallness of very few and far between acts of kindness. Maybe most inspiring of all was the way in which the characters were judged, written off, and erased from existence, within the pages of the novel, yet still learn to acknowledge equality in nature and celebrate the smallest of nature's miracles which, in turn, are the life-blood of a society that burdens and beats them down. This book is about survival among societies most dangerous of creatures -- human beings.