celebrate

today is my half birthday. it marks the halfway point in the last year of my 20s. i thought i'd be more afraid to grow old but as i get closer and closer to the edge of the next decade i view it not as being at a peak about to be pulled inevitably downhill, but standing on the edge of a step in the side of a mountain, peering ahead at what the climb holds ahead.

one thing though, about youth coming to a supposed end, is that i'm aware my body and its capabilities might not remain the same. one way i've been made aware of this is in my yoga practice. for now i feel stronger than i've ever been, but i've accepted that might change, that my wrists might one day fail, that my knees may start to ache, that joints will harden. and with as much yoga as i've done in the last 5 years, i realized i've never ever seen myself except in pictures others take of me. this is fine, it's a spiritual and mindfulness thing for me more than anything, but in a lot of ways my practice is also a tribute to my self, my body, and coming to terms with the fact that this vessel, which i always reviled as a child, is capable of so much more than i ever realized. it is possible to transcend the physical, to be more than a body, and that comes first from accepting and loving yourself completely. yoga showed me that. so now the ultimate test: can i film/photograph myself doing my most cherished thing, and still love it, still love my body, not objectify or scrutinize my self as i see it in this mediated mirror?

so for the last 6 months of my 20s, i'm going to try a project: i'm going to document every day with a yoga self-portrait. yoga, more than anything else i've discovered for myself in my 20s, has taught me so much about who i am, the person i want to be, the strength i possess, and how to open my heart to the world around me. it seems appropriate then, to use yoga as a medium for capturing the gratitude i have for life, for my body, for my sense of self, and for the changes in store for me as time marches ever onward. in doing this, i hope to capture the strength i have now, reflect on how i've grown, and the journey i continue to take.

here's to living each day of this decade with as much beauty, grace, strength, passion, groundedness, and mindfulness as possible.

with love,
stef

defying gravity

nothing makes me feel more empowered than doing what seems physically impossible. no better way to remind yourself of your inner strength than mastering an arm balance.

get into this from eagle pose to give yourself an extra boost of confidence.

security blanket:home :: ex-boyfriend's t-shirt:love

this series of portraits documents women wearing their ex-lovers' shirts and talking about the experience of love (and love lost). i feel like i'm looking into a mirror on my own experience. it helps to know i'm not alone and i'm not a weirdo for doing this too. so much comfort in the feel of that soft fabric against my cheek, even if there isn't a person behind it any more.

i sleep with my ex-partner's shirt beside my pillow. i nuzzle into it at night when i start to feel sad, when my awareness shakes me awake and reminds me again that i'm alone. for some reason just the smell of him helps me feel better, puts me in a place of calm and comfort, makes me think of being in california with nothing but his old shirt in bed with me. he started it; the first time he went away to Turkey, he hid it under my pillow for me to find later, and i slept in bed every night with it wrapped around me, the sleeves around my waist or draped over my shoulders, and somehow through all of that it never stopped smelling like ben, maybe it smelled even better over time because it smelled like us. even though the shirt i have isn't one he left for me, i keep it close by as a reminder: you weren't dreaming, he loved you once, he lived here with you and now he's gone. you were a we once. you loved each other. this is all that remains.

"It feels like a flag I can’t stop flying. It comforts me in the meantime between the spaces. It’s just a rag I turned into a promise that he would never leave. Some sort of common thread between us. Part of me wants to rip it off. So many what-ifs and could’ve-beens and should’ve-beens and never-weres. It’s just a shirt. It’s been there for me when people haven’t. It makes me feel childish and taken care of. It makes me look a little stronger than I am. As long as I hold onto the shirt she is never completely out of my life. I’d wear it every day if I could. As much as you build a house around it or put a ring on it it’s all still temporary and dissolving so all you can do is love it. Even if it’s painful we need to hold onto something. Proof that we did it. That we went through it. That we learned something. That our hearts were broken. That we were loved. That we weren’t loved enough. For someone I won’t be something that will be so easily shed."

cubicle chronicles

i have started drawing at my desk as a way of coping with the feelings of horrible boredom and waste of my life's potential that comes with my job. it is also an excellent way of managing my anger and frustration and staving off my daily existential crises.

i like to "free draw," that is, i like to make random lines on a page and turn those into drawings. i like to think of it as "liberating" the drawings on the page. all this to say, i definitely don't consider myself a serious artist, and i don't know what i'm doing.

but the other day, i was drawing, and the drawing turned out to look a little/ a lot like me.

i gave her a mean stare (because this is how my face probably looks most of the time at work), combat boots and nunchucks, so she'd be tough and not stand crap from anybody (because most of the time at work i feel silenced and powerless). 

and then i decided to keep going with it, and i started making these comics. i put her in situations that bother me at work, like when people at the cubicle next to mine start clipping their nails at their desk, or when my supervisor who smokes and drinks lots of coffee decides to breathe into my face. soon i'll have her confronting the people at work who don't recycle, who talk really loud on their phones, who don't clean up the microwave. it's been surprisingly therapeutic. these are the drawings i've done so far (click to enlarge):

The Nail-Clipper

Coffee-Cigarette Breath

look at banner!

my future husband and i are featured on Democracy Now!'s banner for their 9/11 War and Peace Report, "The 9/11 Decade: Voices of Dissent."

the photo they collaged was from an ANSWER LA protest in March of 2010, on the 7th anniversary of the Iraq War [ link goes to the original source article of the following photograph, taken by Gary Friedman of the LA Times ]

this photo of us represents a significant moment for me, so i'm honored Democracy Now chose to use it as a representation of the post-9/11 generation and post-9/11 America, and how we are moving forward in the wake of the attacks.

that particular moment of the protest was an extremely intense and emotional one for me. we had marched through the heart of Hollywood - "thousands" of us, according to the article - and stopped when we reached the soundstage. there were speakers, but i don't really remember what they spoke about. i was too absorbed in my surroundings - people stretching back for miles, and us at the front of it all, learning Spanish as we marched along alternating between chants in English and Spanish, and there were police on the rooftops in black uniforms and i could hear helicopters over our voices.

the following photographs all come from ANSWER LA's flickr site.

everywhere around you could see the ravages of 9/11, amazing how the collective memory is so intact, and intensified, in the presence of so many people. it was fascinating to me to see the violence implicit in a peace protest: people angry at 7 years of war, comparisons between Obama and Bush, banners that read "RIP Public Education" and others that suggested 9/11 was an inside job, others expressed a hatred for Zionism. it became clear how much violence and pain we were still experiencing so many years later, and how much suffering we were still self-inflicting. it made me wonder if we'd ever find our way out of pain and violence.

and then, we were invited to sit in the street and observe a collective moment of silence for all the victims of the aftermath. all the victims of war and hatred and the victims of the class wars and the budget cuts whose impacts will damage us for years to come. 9/11 killed thousands of innocent civilians, here and abroad, led to human rights violations, changed the way we travelled, shattered relationships with our international brothers and sisters, and now was beginning to erode our democracy as public education took the first major hit as the war sucked our government dry of funds. as we sat in the street, everything suddenly hushed, i felt a trembling fear in my heart for what would happen if we did not find a way to peace.

in the silence, i wanted to weep. here we were, all connected by tragedy, but still with the strength to see that war wasn't right. here was hope. i could see all around me people start to put fists in the air in solidarity. there was strength still in all of us, despite feeling crushed down by despair. this war would kill our spirit if we let it, but the crowds of protest were growing, the voices of dissent were growing, and would continue. we were joined on the street by thousands of people from multiple walks of life, and maybe in this group would be a future president, a future lawmaker, a future organizer, a teacher, a parent willing to believe we still have the responsibility to change.

another reason i am so honored that this picture was taken, let alone used by Democracy Now!, is that ben and i are together in it. ben and i first met while working together on a living wage campaign at Miami, and we fell in love through our mutual dedication to social justice. one thing that made me excited to get to know ben better throughout our relationship was the feeling of finally having a true partner, someone who i could depend on emotionally and who would give me strength, but who also shared my passions and would collaborate with me to make the world a better place. my whole life, i wanted to change the world; finally i had someone who would walk beside me all my life and help me do it. as we move forward and prepare to join our lives together, we plan to always honor our commitment to social justice, and to foster lives that practice a philosophy of love.

summah time

i can't believe it's already the last day of August! this summer has flown by! living in california is endless summer anyway, but something about the end of August always makes me pause in my doorway every night and linger in the setting sun just a little bit longer.

while i watch my friends head back to school to teach or study, my life has remained untouched by such seasonal excitement. i've mixed feelings on this: on one hand, i'm relieved not to be experiencing the anxiety and panic that comes before starting a new school year, but at the same time, i miss having something "new" to look forward to, miss starting new classes with new people, and miss feeling like my life is not the same repeated episode over and over again. the passing of time seems muted without the traditional celebrations - buying school supplies, picking first-day outfits, planning new schedules, end of summer pool parties and barbeques.

my summer has been wonderful, though, and i'm lucky that my partner and i had time to travel to many different places together. we kayaked with sea otters in Monterey, got engaged by the Pacific Ocean, hiked and swam in a secret nudist colony in Lake Tahoe, biked Napa Valley, saw two concerts in one weekend in San Francisco, and revisited with friends in LA. not bad for three months of summer vacation!

here we are enjoying a sunset on Highway 1 after a trip to Monterey.

we went hiking in Big Sur the day after we got engaged.

swimming in a hidden cove that turned out to be a (surprise!) nude beach. (if you click the photo and zoom in, you'll see that the guy on the rock behind us is totally naked!)

biking in Napa Valley! we were such champs and biked around 15 miles of the Silverado Trail while visiting wineries. this photo was snapped after we stopped at our first vineyard of the day and had the first of many picnics post-tasting.

here we are at the Stern Grove Festival in San Francisco waiting for Neko Case to take the stage (we were pro picnickers at this point, note the baguette in the foreground).

and now to look forward to the fall: i'm excited to return to central new york where me and ben used to live together before i moved for work. autumn in the east, it should go without saying, is strikingly beautiful. but nothing beats adventuring thru mountains of sunlit golden forest with your soulmate, nothing! and i'm excited to do that on top of seeing David Sedaris, eating apple fritters at an apple festival, dancing at an Andrew Bird concert, and visiting the public policy program i've had my eye on for almost a year now.

this life is so full of wonder sometimes that i'm dumbfounded just reflecting on it all.

-stephan!e

funny or die

lately i have been having dreams that wake me up doing funny things. the other day i fell asleep on a plane and woke up whacking my hands against my leg, like i was clubbing an animal or something. the other night i woke up laughing at something i found hysterical.

last night i woke up from a dream in which i was getting ready to write a blog post ostensibly so hilarious, i found it necessary to pry open my laptop and, half-asleep, without my glasses, and in the dark, type myself this reminder for myself in the morning:

"by the end of his career, Rodney Dangerfield was as sophisticated as Lao Tzu himself"

in my dream, the blog post was going to look like this:

my reasoning, in the dream, was that the juxtaposition of the images would be so hilarious, it would be a hit on the interwebs. so, there you go.

back to the future

have i mentioned, i love time travel!

i found this wonderful photography project by a woman in Brazil by the name of Irina Werning, who has been collecting old photos from her friends in Buenos Ares and having them "go back in time" to re-enact moments from their past.

at first i thought she had just found old photos and then procured models who could be dressed up and posed in a way resembling the photographs, but about halfway thru the gallery it occurred to me that these past and future people are actually the same people. once you realize the photos are actually juxtaposing real past with real present, with decades in between, you're humbled by the human ability to transcend change. or to put it another way, humans wear change very well. babies become adults, brunettes become blondes, sprinkles of chest hair grow, trees grow, crooked teeth straighten, beards are grown, laugh lines appear – there are acute superficial differences, but the characters beneath the surface (one can imagine) are still relatively the same, albeit with some insane tattoos accrued along the way.

it's been quieting to look at these photographs and feel reassured of the constancy with which time grips us all. lately i have been perceiving myself as a stranger, so different from who i was yesterday, the year before, and ten years ago. to think of an image of myself when i was eleven and contrast it to how i feel now feels alienating and weird, like wearing the wrong shoe on the wrong foot. but i am reminded that perhaps life moves more in ripples than seismic waves. most of the time, anyway.

end of year crazies

my 6th graders are merely 10 days away from the 7th grade!
which means i am only 10 days away from being done with my two-year TFA commitment and what has been a wild and enormously challenging and life-changing experience. i would be sad if i didn't feel i am really really reaaally earning my indefinite vacation from teaching.

just last week, i had my first fist fight of the year, which is a record, i think. (i believe last year it took only a matter of months). even more impressive, it didn't technically happen in my classroom, but outside my door during the 5-minute passing period. still, it was between two of my students, and since they are now both suspended and having parent conferences, i feel i can safely say that even without me providing my students a count down, they have already begun their familiar end of year race to the finish rituals.

the last weeks of the school year in LA go a little like this:
the heat turns up, and the AC's not working, so the kids are sweaty, uncomfortable, and honestly, a little stanky. (and this has been a fantastically chill summer in terms of temperatures, yet breaking past 75 in Culver City.)
the CSTs were several weeks ago, at the beginning of May, so the kids think they're "done" with school and with learning and they're sole purpose in coming to school is to hang out.
the administrators and some teachers too are getting laid off and losing their jobs, so they start giving little shit what happens on campus.
things inevitably start spiraling out of control before a huge crack down occurs, in which every "problem child" at the school gets sent home early for the summer, an "extended suspension." some good kids and some smart kids get caught up in the mix when they jump into a riot or a fight with their friends and/or siblings, and i lose some of my favorite students, like Ciera who looks like my friend dylan from college, or Salvador, a well-mannered hispanic boy who got caught up in a fight defending himself after someone socked him in the face.

just now i got an automated phone call from the school principal, a message intended for parents, explaining that if students are not kept at home by their parents for the "remainder of their suspension" (that is, the rest of the year) they would be cited for trespassing and fined. wow, what a message for the parents and community. STAY OUT OF OUR SCHOOL YOU HAVE WORN YOUR WELCOME, WE WILL USE FORCE AND LITIGIOUSNESS AND DEMEANING LANGUAGE IF NECESSARY.

at least some good news:
this evening, i got an email from my student Anthony, who wrote me to tell me this:

hi its me anthony i am learning more math because my mom is helping me on it so i am ready for the final test.and by the way this is anthony(last name) in your first and second period class.

i will be glad for all the drama and oppressive incompetence of LAUSD to be over, but i sure am going to miss my students. truth be told, they are the only reason i've been able to keep this up the whole time.

behold! the first ever picture of me and my class (minus several suspended students).

-miss lee

carrot head

in the last day, i have written 2 papers, 1 IEP, 2 lesson plans, and 1 reflection on teaching (forthcoming in a post, stay tuned!)

so today feels pretty lax in comparison. as a result, this is what i did in the half hour before i left work today. 

i forgot Macs have this program called Comic Life that can turn pictures into comic strips, which is extremely fun to play with, but produces disappointingly boring comics. 

if only i had a troupe of wacky friends to dress up in brightly colored costumes and voluminous up-dos and strike dramatic poses and make wildly expressive faces so we could maximize the potential of this program to make delightful art.

alas. another project for the summer months.

-stef

gong shi

such a wonderful day.

woke up and made yummy breakfast wraps while listening to chinese language podcasts. cut a cantaloupe (a pleasurable activity for the senses, olfactory and tactile – a cantaloupe provides just enough resistance to warrant the use of a large knife, while maintaining ease of motion) then took a bike ride down to the beach (the ride was also a perfect blend of challenge and leisure at the proper moments, the breeze was salty-sweet and not too blustery on the way towards the ocean, allowing us to make record time on the path). ben and i spent an hour on the beach, splashing in the water and racing each other on the sand, watching the waves crashing in huge gusts as they hit the sandbar formed from weeks of rainwater draining sand into the ocean.

came home to clean up and drive east to celebrate chinese new year with my uncle and aunt. a fragrant pineapple in the backseat. eating lots of noodles and sticky rice cakes. playing bingo with 50 chinese gentle men and women, one drunk bingo rabble rouser and one elementary kid who kept winning all the prizes. we were in it to win it (a mini braided bamboo plant, that is).

driving back to the apartment, teaching ben how to count in mandarin, thinking to myself the whole time how happy and lucky i am, to be surrounded by such good people.

i feel sometimes that i can never cease in my amazement of how much beauty lies in the world around me. i see the grace of bodies, the delicate lines on faces and how they reveal smiles and the way people walk, or use their hands when talking, the way they put on a shoe or brush the hair out of their face or the way they chew their food and the way people laugh, and i think of the babies that we once were and i dunno, it just seems like such glorious probability that everything works out to such perfection. it overwhelms me with such marvellous awe that sometimes i mistake it for sadness. it makes life seem so precious, which is really something to be grateful for, even though being aware of it makes everything seem so precarious.

look! i am teaching ben how to speak mandarin!

trout fishing in america

(click on img for a higher res version)

portraits of a city

LA can really be breathtaking sometimes.

...at the end of the day, she realized that the time had passed quickly. and though she couldn’t claim to be efficient with the tasks she needed to accomplish in that day, or in the year, she had, nevertheless, managed to spend her time wisely. and so, she crossed one item off her virtual to-do list and began to get ready for bed...

behold, the beach!

it seems appropriate that the poetry books of my personal library are stacked together and held in place by a basket of seashells. adjacent, a pair of felt animal ears, the remnants of a 3rd grade informational performance about raccoons.

my two friends and i, as Montessori youth, had co-written and directed a 5-minute long presentation about raccoons for an autumnal pageant in the woods behind our principal's house in the country. each group of 8 year olds picked out one plot of woodland to do what they wanted.

i was the hip-hop raccoon. i rapped about our nocturnal lifestyle while wagging my tail and c-stepping.

tragedy

n. definition: having exciting things to talk about, or exciting activities or adventures in mind, having a good hair day, etc. but the only people around to appreciate it are obnoxious eleven and twelve year-olds.


example of use: my life as a 6th grade teacher has become increasingly tragic.

lonesome cowboy

On August 23, 1973, Jan Erik Olsson, on leave from prison, walked into Kreditbanken at Norrmalmstorg, central Stockholm and attempted to hold up the bank. Swedish police were called in immediately, two of them went inside, and Olsson opened fire, injuring one policeman.

The other was ordered to sit in a chair and "sing something."

He started singing "Lonesome Cowboy."


-----

Olofsson was a repeat offender who had committed several armed robberies and acts of violence, the first committed at the age of 16.

He walked around in the vault singing Roberta Flack's "Killing Me Softly".




(from the Wikipedia article about the Norrmalmstorg robbery, which originated the theory on Stockholm Syndrome)

happy holidays

sometimes i think i teach the cutest group of 6th graders in all of Los Angeles. (or maybe just the cutest ones at my school...) and the other times, i think they're little terrors whose only goal in life is to make my life hell. but today, they were nice.

below, a Christmas card from one of my students, Victor:

and what it said inside:

and this is my personal development class, my 6th period, one of my favorite groups of characters:

even though they're sweet and cute, i'm still looking forward to this 3-week break from them. we need a little distance.

-stephan!e

sunday

the peaceful quiet of an empty apartment and all the neighbors gone on holiday,

the coziness of the kitchen while making dinner and the comforting whir and warmth of my new space heater, and

the look of the sky as the day is ending, the clouds backlighting the palm treetops with raspberry and tangerine

and a playlist of songs about the left and leaving, and a living room to dance and jump in

and, for once, not dreading monday

and, knowing i'm going home in only a few more days

make me feel, finally, that i could grow to love LA.

new lows

i am sitting on a towel on the floor of my bathroom, a pile of folders and papers and books beside me, trying to keep warm with a laptop in my lap and sitting as close as i can to the only heater in the entire apartment, a Thermodor built into the wall (i suspect my current use for it fails to meet its intended purpose – my guess being to eliminate bathroom odors? i dunno, that's based solely on the name and what i've heard about ppl lighting matches after taking shits: i was told the flame "burns the bad air" so you can't smell it any more, but i always thought that didn't make sense and was bad household science. anyway...)

i'm 2.5 weeks away from a blissful retreat to my home state, and only a few grad school projects away from the end of this forsaken semester, but this lump of (forgive me) shit before me is too huge to surmount, it seems. i am teetering on incompletes for 2 of the 3 grad classes and it is so fucking cold in my apartment right now, i can't get anything done. it's either crawl into bed, or sit on the floor of the bathroom next to the heater. and so it goes...

i'm fighting nausea and panic and utter depression and lack of excitement, and all from the floor 2 feet away from a fucking toilet. thank cheeses i'm the only one who uses it and i just cleaned it the other day, or this would be a really long miserable night indeed.

to the future!
-stephan!e