#we have a teacher that graduated in 2017 and now teaches here

[realestgirlalive]

senior superlative winner of most likely to come back and be a teacher at our high school….

[vivaldisspring]

Due to popular demand (5 people asked me), I shall tell the story of how I married my TC

LONG READ AHEAD – THIS IS 7 PAGES ON MY WORD DOC

Hi TCC! I’m Anissa, I’m 27 years old, but I’ve had dumb tcs since I was 11 because of whatever the hell is deeply wrong with me. Before I start, I want to point out how very lucky I was to be surrounded by sensible, responsible, righteous adults as I grew up, so that I was never exposed to any danger – and I’m including adults in the tcc, as I was around here when I was a minor as well. I hope, if you are a minor, you understand that my story is a college story, everything happened between adults (and it started when I was 21), and absolutely nothing that I will say here applies to a high school setting. To be completely honest, it is not exactly any advice for a college setting either, as you will see that I have sorely regretted a lot of my actions and they have led to people getting hurt (mostly me). Even when it comes to professor-student relationships, I would still advise you to not act on your crush, or at least wait until you’ve graduated college. Had I done that, I would’ve spared myself a lot of headache. Also, I do believe as you get older, large age gaps get easier to deal with.

PART 1: JAMES (my crush)

I was 18 when I started college as a History major. It was 2015, and due to issues with my family that I’m not going to go into, I was severely depressed. I soon dropped out of college, spent some time away, and returned in 2017 (20 years old) as a Foreign Languages major this time. So, at 20 years old, I was still a freshman, which to me was super embarrassing, but oh well. Mental health first.

That’s when I met James (not his real name). He was a professor at my university, mainly teaching English. (I do not live in an English-speaking country, so English here doesn’t mean literature in English, but rather the actual language – reading, writing and listening skills in English). James was in his mid-thirties back then, I think, had gotten his PhD and a professor job at my university not too long before. The way it happened is, he published on the department’s Facebook page a notice that he needed an assistant to one of the English classes he taught. His only requirement was, the student needed to have finished the course with the highest grade. That was my case, as I had taken that course the previous semester (with a different professor). In my university, when you’re an assistant to a professor in any class, you get credits. I wanted credits, so I emailed him expressing my interest. He said great, come by my office next week at this time, and we can talk about it.

I went to his office as we had agreed, and that’s when I first met him in person. We talked for a bit, I thought he was very nice, and we agreed I would be his assistant in that specific English class. As his assistant, I was present in all of his classes, I helped take attendance, set up the projector, organize the desks/chairs, prepare the assignments, hand them out, grade them if necessary, answer any questions the students might have, etc. It was a Reading Comprehension class, so I also selected texts in English that I thought would be a good fit for him to assign to the students. This meant that we spent a lot of time together and we had a lot of contact outside of class, discussing plans for the course and solving problems that showed up. We would meet earlier than the time the class started, and after the class ended we stayed together for a while too. I didn’t have a crush on him immediately – it developed throughout the semester, because I guess of our growing proximity.

Now, let me tell you. When the crush did develop. I was OBSESSED. It was INSANE. I’d had crushes on teachers before, in middle school and in high school, but NOTHING LIKE THIS. Those crushes paled in comparison; they were reduced to jokes. My crush on James CONSUMED me, mind, body and soul. I don’t think I can stress this enough. I was a MESS – it was so deep, so strong, unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I thought about him every single minute of every single day. I planned every single one of my actions around him. I dressed for him, I got into credit card debt from buying expensive/pretty clothes that might appeal to him, I started a diet so I could lose weight for him (I was the thinnest and unhealthiest I’d ever been during that time), I started doing exercise (I would go jogging for 2 hours straight) also to lose weight, I wore short skirts, I showed cleavage, I put on more makeup than ever in my life. I wrote poems and songs for him, I overanalyzed our interactions and his very micro expressions, every word that he said. Every praise from him was like the highest high from the most powerful drug – the tiniest word of perceived disapproval was enough to render me suicidal. I AM NOT EXAGGERATING. I hesitate to call it a crush. It was an ILLNESS. I stalked this man, I stalked him online (I found out everything I could about him and his friends and family), I stalked him physically (I would wait outside his office, at a reasonable distance, for him to come out - sometimes I would go up to him and talk to him, sometimes I would just walk by him and wave, pretending it was a coincidence we were in the same area, sometimes I would just watch him walk up to his car and drive away. I wrote down his license plate and looked for his car everywhere I went. I found out what neighborhood he lived in, and I used to go there in hopes that I could find out his exact building by checking parking spots for his car, and maybe I could also run into him there?). I found out he had a girlfriend and stalked her too, and I compared myself to her to the point of insanity. I shed literal blood, sweat and tears, I dedicated months of my life to this sick obsession, and this sick obsession ONLY. This was all I had. Guys, I did things I can’t even speak of here, because they were too wrong, too petty, quite frankly too embarrassing to admit even to strangers on Tumblr. That’s how bad it was.

I couldn’t regret it more. I think, being severely depressed, I considered this crush my lifeline, and I poured my soul into it like it could save me from darkness. But it was darkness, it was awful. And the worst thing? James didn’t deserve to have to deal with it. He is actually a good guy. I’m pretty sure he noticed how I felt, but he never once took advantage of it. He kept his distance, kept everything professional and ethical, never made advances, never did anything inappropriate, and reacted to my inappropriate behavior very well. He knew I was depressed, he tried getting me into therapy, but there was only so much he could do.

Looking back, I feel my crush on James as something of a curse. I was cursed with it – and it still lingers to this day, I still feel the pain from having been burned alive by these feelings even though I’ve put out all the flames by now. I’m fine, I’m better, 6 years later I’m the healthiest I’ve ever been… but I still shake at the sight of James. I still feel like I can’t quite breathe, even though I’m happily married now and most of the time it’s like James never existed. If I run into him, I can’t say it’s not a blow.

I hope one day I can get over him completely. I wanted to tell you guys the James story because I don’t want this to be simply a “omg I got married to my tc, if I did it you can do it too!!” kind of post. I don’t want to encourage anyone to go after their tcs like I went after James because it DOES NOT END WELL and I know better than anyone how unhealthy a teacher attachment can be. I still love to hear all about your tcs and your cute interactions with them and I so relate to how you guys feel, the good parts and the bad parts, I’m absolutely not judging anyone and I love this community so much. I even write tc/age gap stories, I’m always looking for books, movies, fanfics, etc. I love the trope, I love it. But I can’t lie to you – this particular experience in 2017 screwed me over hard.

Okay. I hope that was enough of a cautionary tale. Let’s move on.

PART 2: MARK (my husband)

So I was James’s assistant in that class, and then in some others. Whenever possible I would also sign up to be his student in courses he taught. This lasted for all of 2017 (the height of it) and 2018 (got slowly better, he was no longer the center of my universe, but I still loved him).

And in the meantime, I met Mark (also not his real name), another one of my professors. While James was in his mid thirties, Mark was in his late forties (which was older than my preferred age gap). The Foreign Languages major at my university focuses mostly on English, Spanish, and French – while James taught English Comprehension, Mark taught French History (actually the exact course title is more specific, so I’m not going to name it, but it’s basically French History).

Now, remember how I said my first choice of major at the university was History? (I was persuaded to change it, I regret it, let’s not talk about it.) At that point, I was still very much a History nerd, and French History was my jam. You can still go back to my posts about Robespierre (love of my life) from 2013/2014 here on the archive to this very Tumblr account. So needless to say, I knew an awful lot about the French Revolution going into Mark’s course.

Fun fact: the first time I enrolled in one of Mark’s classes, I thought absolutely nothing of him, but I did know one thing – all of the department offices were shared by two professors, and James’s office was shared by Mark. So on the very first day of class with Mark, he (Mark) was like “guys, I forgot some papers I wanted to hand out to you, they’re in my office – would someone be so kind as to hop in there and get them for us?”. (Office was located very close to the classroom) I was a shy student who almost never spoke in class or volunteered for anything, but when I tell you I JUMPED OUT OF MY CHAIR and practically yelled over another student was already offering, I was like “I’LL GO, I’LL GO, DON’T WORRY PROFESSOR, LEAVE IT TO ME”. I knew James would be there because his class had ended just before Mark’s started. Mark thanked me and so off I went, happily. James was indeed there, working on his desk. I knocked on the door, “Hi professor, may I come in? It’s just that Mark asked me to pick up these papers right here, don’t mind me, thank you so much, hope you’re doing well, see you next class?”. It was such a short interaction with James, but it MADE MY FUCKING DAY.

One week later I dropped out of Mark’s course because arriving on time for his class was getting in the way of me spending more time with James after his class.

Yeah. The irony.

I only saw Mark again on the next semester, when I enrolled in his class once more and there was nothing keeping me from finishing the course. We got closer as time went on precisely because none of the other students even really knew who Robespierre was, and I not only knew his name, but all of the names of the main French revolutionaries and the specific radical/moderate groups they were part of, and exactly their role in the start of the French Revolution leading up to their death. I was not new to being the teacher’s pet – most of my professors loved me at that time, so I ended up being an assistant to many professors apart from James, and Mark was only another one of them. I never had a crush on Mark. When I tell you he meant nothing to me, even though we were so close and we got along so well and had so many interesting conversations about the French Revolution – still my obsession with James was deep and I didn’t have eyes for anyone else.

So how did it happen, you ask me?

One day, Mark and I were having such a good conversation, it ended up lasting longer than we anticipated. We were talking, I was walking to the bus stop, he was walking home because he lived so close to the university and he didn’t have a car. He actually rode a bicycle to the university, but that day he just dragged his bicycle with him by his side so we could keep talking. We decided to stop at a food place and grab something to eat. And we kept talking. Conversation just flowed really naturally with us, and it was kind of a relief to not have to overanalyze everything I say and everything he says. I could just talk about History, I could just fangirl over Robespierre (Mark totally gets it, he thinks Robespierre is awesome too), I could just be myself. I didn’t have many friends at the university, no one I could really talk to and just have a good time with, so Mark was a godsend. We ordered food, kept talking, argued over the bill, then resumed heading towards our destinations. I had long passed my usual bus stop, but there were many stops I could go to, so I just decided I’d take the bus on the one closest to Mark’s place.

At this point, there was definitely a vibe already, we were both going out of our way to keep spending time together. I’m not sure what inspired my actions here. Maybe I wanted to forget about James for a while. Maybe I wanted a chance to make James jealous somehow. Maybe I just wanted someone to be into me, since James clearly never would. So I made up an excuse to go up to his apartment. We spent some more time together in his balcony, overlooking the city, and then out of the blue he’s like:

“You know, James broke up with his girlfriend.”

I was SHOCKED. I was SHAKEN TO MY CORE. I swear to God, I wanted to scream, I wanted to jump, I wanted to dance. I was SO HAPPY. But I couldn’t do any of that now, could I? So much was going through my head. How did Mark know about my feelings for James anyway? (Why else would he say that??) Was I so very obvious? Had James mentioned anything to him? What about the vibe between Mark and me? WHAT WAS EVEN GOING ON?!

I tried my best to not let out my hysteria over the news that James and his girlfriend had broken up. I tried to say as nonchalantly as I could:

“Oh, really? What a shame. Why did they break up?”

“She had an abortion, it seems, that he didn’t agree with.”

Guys, I can’t even describe the turmoil inside me. I’ll be honest, it affected me so much I don’t even remember what I said next, or what he said, or the rest of our conversation. The next thing I remember, Mark and I were making out on his couch and then the rest is history.

Okay so. Mark knew I liked James, not him. I knew Mark himself had just gotten out of a difficult relationship – he had lived in France for a while and had been in love with a French woman. When he returned to our country (he had to, because of his job at the university), she came with him, they had plans to get married and have children and everything. But she wasn’t able to adapt to the new culture and to being away from her family, so she broke up with him and went back to France. There, she got back together with her ex, and soon she was pregnant by him. Mark was still grieving that, he was still very much in love with her. So basically, I wasn’t really into Mark, Mark wasn’t really into me – we were both aware of that – and we started something of an ~~affair~~ (sex, it was just sex, friends with benefits at most) having agreed that it would be nothing more, considering our feelings for other people.

And like that, it stayed, for many months. And then, I don’t know. I guess when we were together, it was hard to keep it just sex, because we got along so well. We had so many of the same interests (e.g., French Revolution), and other things we introduced to each other – he got me into so much 80s/90s music, I got him into horror movies. We also found out we both loved Nietzsche, so we started reading Nietzsche together, and it was SO productive. He helped me understand so much of what Nietzsche wrote, that now I consider my readings of Nietzsche when I was 16/17 to have been useless, I didn’t GET IT AT ALL. And (he says) my thoughts on what we were reading helped him deepen his understanding as well. I started spending a lot of time at his apartment, and we just had so much fun! Also the sex was amazing

Eventually, we decided to give it a try. We just made sense for us to date, right? If we were attracted to each other and we were the best of friends, literally what was it about James and French Lady that was so important to keep Mark and I from moving on with our lives? Especially when French Lady was already married to another guy, and James was just not interested in me no matter how hard I tried to be something he might want. It made sense to at least try. So try we did, and you know what? Best decision I ever made.

PART 3: JAMES/MARK (how it ended)

James and I were supposed to work together on a project. It wasn’t a class this time, just a separate academic research project. It was the perfect chance for me, because it would give me even more time to spend with him. But honestly. What was the point? James didn’t want anything with me. This was crystal clear. And I was trying to move on with someone else. The topic of the research wasn’t even something I liked to study (it was no French Revolution!), it was literally just an excuse to spend time with James. And that didn’t seem fair, considering I was dating Mark now. So I decided to drop out of the research project.

But I’m not going to lie to you guys. I still loved James very much, and it was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. In fact, it was so hard that I kept putting it off, I kept delaying it, to the point I kind of ghosted James for a little while. I was so paralyzed by the prospect of giving up on him completely. And you don’t ghost someone on a research project, that’s shitty academic behavior. (Mark didn’t know about any of this, by the way. He still doesn’t to this day. I had stopped talking to him about James, because well, awkward, right?)

So one day, I decided it was time. I can’t ghost him any longer. I wrote a James a LONG (!) email, explaining why I had ghosted him (I blamed it on my depression), apologizing profusely for dropping out of the project, complimenting him intensely, and then, finally, asking him if we could maybe meet for coffee one of these days, I would like to give him a hug. Remember, this was a LONG email, and it ended with a question (can we meet in person?). Two days later, I get an answer. I don’t remember it word for word (it hurt me so deeply, I deleted the whole email exchange 5 minutes after reading it), but it was something in the lines of:

“Hi, Anissa. Thanks for explaining. Don’t worry about it, I completely understand. I hope you can get the help you need.

Best regards,

James”

I don’t think I need to explain how painful it was to receive an answer like that, after I had opened up so much to him in long paragraphs, and expressed a desire to see him. And as I got that answer, I started to ask myself why the hell I even wrote such a long email, why the hell I even asked to see him (said I wanted to HUG HIM), when I was dating someone else. In hindsight, that was an asshole move on my part. I guess James thought so too.

I don’t know if James knew about my relationship with Mark. When it comes to James and Mark, the truth is they never got along. I only found out as Mark and I became more intimate and he felt more comfortable confessing that he hates James, always has, and James hates him right back. They both avoided being at the office together. Mark thinks James is stupid, James thinks Mark is arrogant. And since I was Mark’s student, we kept our relationship a secret all along, and I’m sure Mark never told James anything. But who knows? Maybe he found out another way, maybe he guessed it. Maybe he doesn’t know at all, he just answered so coldly because he was angry at me for ghosting him on his project.

Guys. Ever since that email… I never talked to James again. We saw each other from a distance plenty of times at the university, and hell, I even took one of his classes again (it was mandatory, there was no way around it). It was 2020, during the pandemic, so it was all on Zoom, and I never had to say a word to him or show my face on the call. I took the online quizzes, and at the end of the semester I submitted a paper I had written for the final assignment. I received feedback from him saying the paper was excellent. It gave me a little bit of joy, as his praise was does… but also, a little bit of disgust. I know everything that went wrong between me and him was my fault. But I’m only human, and I can’t help it, I resent that email. I resent it a lot. I stopped talking to James partly out of respect for my new boyfriend, partly out of hatred for James and his stupid fucking email that broke my heart into a million pieces.

Flash forward to 2021. Mark and I were better than ever. One day, we’re like, you know what, if we get married we can probably save up on health insurance (I could be included in his health insurance, as his wife, and I was at that point without any health insurance at all). So I told my mom, “by the way mom, Mark and I are getting married for health insurance reasons”. My mom was over the moon and decided to plan the whole wedding. At first we wanted something small, but my mom went crazy and did something bigger than we planned (still small, because pandemic, but bigger than we wanted – there was an actual reception with my closest family and friends, back in my hometown). It was cute. Though I hate the pictures because I look so fat in my wedding dress. Being with Mark, I gained weight again, because he makes me feel loved me whether I’m thin or fat, and quite frankly fat is healthier for me. I still carry the harmful fatphobic feeling of inferiority from back when I was losing weight for James though.

2021 is when I should have graduated, but the truth is that when I had a crush on James, I fucked up a lot of my class schedule (remember how I dropped out of Mark’s class just to be able to spend time with James?) to make it work in favor of my obsession with him. And then the pandemic happened, which delayed my courses even more (we lost a whole semester there). So unfortunately, I only got to graduate last year, 2023, at the old age of 26 (awful, terrible, I hate it, I feel like shit for it, especially because it was my fault, my depression that kept me from college in 2015/2016, my sick obsessive crush that ruined my life in 2017/2018, and it was 2019 when I was able to start healing).

I’ve been married to Mark for 3 years now and it’s been THE BEST YEARS OF MY LIFE. I’ve never been healthier, physically and mentally, and I love him so much, and we have 2 cats, and I love my cats, and our little family and our little home.

Sometimes I feel guilty that I don’t feel (and never have felt) for Mark what I felt for James. But I think this is a good thing in the end. I think it’s the reason why my relationship with Mark is so good and so healthy. Because what I felt for James was an illness, not love. And I love Mark for who he is as a human being, NOT as a teacher. James was my teacher crush through and through, it was always about his position, his authority, his praise, his reproach, his distance, his inaccessibility – never about his friendship. Because as much as I might want to fool myself sometimes, we never were friends, we were always teacher and teaching assistant.

I’m gonna end it on this note: last month (December 2023), I presented my final paper (a research paper every student has to present in order to get their diploma by my university). For the final paper, most of the professors in the department are present to watch you speak and present your research findings. So that was the last time I saw James – he was there to watch this semester’s graduating class present their papers. He watched me present mine. When I got up on stage, he was sitting directly in front of me, facing me in a way that made it almost hard for us not to stare at each other. I was deeply affected by his presence. I don’t even remember how my presentation went, I was so conscious of James being right there in front of me. When I finished, I was congratulated and complimented and praised by almost every professor in the department, they all had loved my research. All except one. James didn’t say a word to me. I didn’t say a word to him either. At a certain point we were pulled into the same circle of conversation, but we both kept quiet, let other people speak, looked away when our eyes met, and made sure to walk away in opposite directions as soon as possible. I have no idea why he’s being like this, whether he hates me for ghosting, whether he hates me for being with Mark, whether he just doesn’t care about me at all and never has. I just don’t know. I’ve been trying my hardest not to care too.

Anyway. This was a ride. If you made it this far, I LOVE YOU. I may need to go cry now.

[mscaitlinb]

Let's talk dance education!

Being a dance educator is one of the most rewarding anchors of my life. There are a fair share of hardships when it comes to being in the industry of dance, but It’s something I have wanted and studied for since I was a little girl. 

I’ve had all kinds of highs and lows in my career, but an incredible amount of knowledge I learned about myself. Now I’ve had all kinds of experience with what it takes to be a successful dance educator to aspiring dancers. I’ve taught ages 2 to adult in Ballet, Jazz, Contemporary, Tap, Hip Hop, Aerial Silks, in all different levels. I pride myself now on the versatility I can teach now, but had to learn through those opportunities given to me. 

As a little background, I was born in Houston, TX and took my first dance class at age 3. My parents noticed how active I was as a child, and immediately put me in gymnastics. Safe to say I did not care for it. I cried and cried and cried until the gym gave my parents a full refund. They then enrolled me in dance and I fell in love with it. Right around ages 5-6 is when I started training more seriously. We moved to Austin in 2000 and that’s where everything really took off. I trained several days a week, began weekend rehearsals for shows and competitions. That’s when I knew I wanted this to be a career. 

After doing competitive dancing for quite some time, I began to fall in love with concert dance. So I went to a studio that focused more on Ballet and Modern dance at the age of 16 years old. It was enough to help me get into California State University, Long Beach. An incredible 4 years of opening my eyes up to the world of dance, and giving me a plethora of opportunities to go into after graduation. I decided late in my tenure in college that dance education is where I wanted to project my career into. I worked for a preschool mobile dance company where I fell in love with teaching young children dance. I also began working my way up at a ballet conservatory school. In 2017, I landed this job at a studio in South Orange County, CA. Years later, my tenure in California was coming to an end, and I made my way out to Colorado. This is where I continue to teach and figure out what I’d like to do with my teaching career long-term.

The type of teachers I had would be considered old school dance instructors. They showed a lot of “tough love” with how they were training their dancers to be professional. Now they weren’t necessarily wrong in trying to make us strong within the cutthroat dance industry, but they surely could’ve been more nurturing in the process. A lot of what my teachers had done was not ideal nor healthy for our mental and emotional well beings. Their motivations were rooted in making us fearful of disappointing the instructor. What I want to continue pursuing is to build the confidence of the child not only to increase their skills, but to enlighten them. We are here not only to train dancers, but human beings. 

The point of this blog is to help change the conversation with teaching young dancers. We’ve seen how our teachers taught us. We’ve seen new scientific data come out regarding safe and healthy practices. We know what works and what doesn’t work. It’s time to make that change all across the dance industry. I’m here to bring some of my own experiences to light and start a discussion between other dance educators. Let’s use our past to build a better future, not only for us but for our students.

[biographygen]

Jamie Raskin Age Height Health Wife Son Net Worth

Jamin Raskin born on 13 December 1962 is an American attorney, law professor, and politician serving as the U.S. representative for Maryland's 8th congressional district since 2017. Here we have covered everything about Jamie Raskin, age, height, weight, family, wife, children, net worth, salary, and profession. So keep scrolling and learn more about this interesting personality.

Who is Jamie Raskin?

Jamin Raskin is the most popular and richest lawyer, teacher, and politician from Washington, D. C. United States of America. He has been a U.S. representative for Maryland's 8th congressional district since 2017. He is a member of the Democratic Party and used to work in the Maryland State Senate from 2007 to 2016. His district used to cover parts of Montgomery County and went through Frederick County to the Pennsylvania border, but it changed in 2022 and now only includes part of Montgomery County. Raskin is known for leading the effort to impeach President Donald Trump a second time after the attack on the U.S. Capitol. Before becoming a Congressman, he taught constitutional law at American University's law school and started programs to teach people about the Constitution. Jamie Raskin Age

Jamin Raskin is 61 years old as of 2024. He was born on 13 December 1962 in Washington, D. C. United States of America Jamie Raskin's zodiac sign is Sagittarius. In his 61 years, he has excelled in his roles as an American attorney, law professor, and politician. Jamie Raskin Height and Weight

Jamie Raskin stands at a height of 6 feet 1 inch, which is approximately 185 centimeters or 1.85 meters. He weighs around 80 kilograms, equivalent to 176 pounds. He possesses a strong and confident personality, with striking black hair and deep black eyes. Jamie Raskin Nationality, Ethnicity Jamin Ben Raskin has American nationality, However, his ethnicity and religion is not known. Jamie Raskin Parents

Jamin Ben Raskin comes from a Jewish family with a rich history. He is the son of Barbara (née Bellman) Raskin and Marcus Raskin. His mother, Barbara, was a journalist and novelist, while his father, Marcus, was a former staff aide to President John F. Kennedy on the National Security Council. Marcus was also a co-founder of the Institute for Policy Studies and a dedicated progressive activist. In addition to his parents, Raskin's family history includes ancestors who immigrated to the U.S. from Russia, adding to the diverse tapestry of his heritage. Jamie Raskin Education

Jamin Ben Raskin had an impressive educational journey. Jamie Raskin graduated from Georgetown Day School in 1979 when he was just 16 years old. Later, he went on to graduate with top honors, magna cum laude and was part of the prestigious Phi Beta Kappa society from Harvard College in 1983. He earned a Bachelor of Arts in government with a focus on political theory. Continuing his academic success, in 1987, he achieved a J.D. (Doctor of Jurisprudence) degree with high honors, magna cum laude, from Harvard Law School. During his time at Harvard Law School, he served as an editor for the Harvard Law Review, showcasing his dedication to legal studies and scholarship. Jamie Raskin Published two books:

- Unthinkable - TRIAL MEMORANDUM OF

Jamie Raskin Political Career

In 2006, Jamin Ben Raskin became a Maryland state senator. He represented areas like Silver Spring and Takoma Park in Montgomery County. During his time as a senator, he did important jobs, like being the Senate majority whip and leading the Montgomery County Senate Delegation. He also worked in the Select Committee on Ethics Reform and the Judicial Proceedings Committee. While a senator, Raskin focused on important laws. He wanted to get rid of the death penalty in Maryland and make the state's ignition interlock program bigger. He also helped create rules for benefit corporations, which are companies that aim to do good for society alongside making a profit. Raskin did not just stop at Maryland – he wanted to change the whole country. He made a special law to change how we pick the president, called the National Popular Vote. Jamie Raskin also fought to change the laws about marijuana and medical marijuana in Maryland. One big thing he did was to help make same-sex marriage legal in Maryland. During a discussion, he reminded everyone that our Constitution is what's most important. Raskin career in the Maryland legislature showed he cared about making things better and sticking to his beliefs.

Jamie Raskin Net Worth & Salary

Jamie Raskin has an estimated net worth of around $5 million as of 2023. He earns his income from his profession as an American attorney, law professor, and politician. His career in law and politics has been instrumental in building his net worth, and he has been dedicated to serving the public while earning a living. Jamie Raskin has a luxurious lifestyle and lives with his family and kids.

Jamie Raskin Wife Sarah Bloom Raskin

Jamie Raskin is married to Sarah Bloom Raskin, who is an American attorney and financial policy expert. Sarah Bloom Raskin has held significant positions in the United States government, serving as the 13th Deputy Secretary of the Treasury from 2014 to 2017. In the past, she was also the Maryland Commissioner of Financial Regulation. Currently, Sarah is the Colin W. Brown Distinguished Professor of the Practice of Law at Duke Law School and a Senior Fellow at the Duke Center on Risk. Besides, she works as a Partner at Kaya Partners, Ltd., a firm that specializes in climate advisory. Jamie Raskin Children

Jamie Raskin and Sarah Bloom Raskin have two adult daughters named Hannah and Tabitha. Sadly, they also had a son, Thomas (Tommy), who passed away on December 31, 2020, at the age of 25. The family shared that Thomas had struggled with depression for a long time. It's a heartbreaking part of their relationship journey. Jamie Raskin Health

In May 2010, Raskin found out he had colon cancer. He had six weeks of radiation and chemotherapy, then surgery to remove part of his colon, and more chemotherapy until early 2011. In December 2022, he shared that he was diagnosed with a different type of cancer called diffuse large B-cell lymphoma. He mentioned that he would have a treatment combining chemotherapy and immunotherapy. This treatment finished in April 2023, and on April 27, he said the cancer was no longer active, which is called remission. Jamie Raskin Twitter, Instagram, Facebook Jamie Raskin is active on every social media such as Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, and YouTube. Jamie Raskin has gained more than 78k followers on Instagram and on Twitter he has gained 171.6k followers. He shares his professional pictures which are liked by millions of people. Thank you for reading this article! Must Read: Who is Luh Tyler Sister McKenzie Meeks? Q1. How much is Jamie Raskin worth?Ans. He has a net worth of $5 million. Q2. Who is Jamie Raskin wife?Ans. He is married to American attorney and regulator Sarah Bloom Raskin. Q3. How old is Jamie?Ans. Jamie Raskin was Born on December 13, 1962, and is now 61 years. Q4. What nationality does Jamie Raskin have?Ans. He was born in Washington, DC and currently lives in Maryland. His nationality is American.Q5. Does Jamie have cancer?Ans. Yes, Raskin was diagnosed with colon cancer in May 2010. Also Read: - Shammi Prasad Wiki Age Height Parents Brother Nationality - Lee Asher Biography Age Height Married Wife Net Worth - Camila Cabello Biography, Net Worth, Career, Boyfriend and Family - Arnold Schwarzenegger Biography, Net Worth, Early Life, Career, Girlfriend Read the full article

[abcitycake]

This is something I’d like to share when it comes to ableism. I was diagnosed with autism in my sopmore year. They had to accommodate me in order to graduate, I had difficulty paying attention and understanding my work in classes. Thankfully I was able to leave school. Skip to university, my passion was wanting to learn Japanese, and a dream to get a degree and move to Japan to teach English. But instead my only options there was “office skills” I got it done but didnt use anything with it. That was in 2010-2011. For the next 10 years, I didnt know what to do. My only chance in getting to learn what I wanted was out the window. My dad made me promise if I could handle regular classes without as much accommodations, I could go to the school to learn Japanese. But unfortunately I did fail. The subjects and classes weren’t difficult to understand, it was the homework that needed to be done online, and it was very confusing, so I failed. I am forever disappointed that my passions were disregarded, and forced to do something i wasn’t comfortable with. For the next 5 years- my parents toxicity towards me became worse. I ran away a couple of times in 2017 just to get away from them. I went to a women’s shelter for a week. Risked homelessness just to get away from them. But I finally got my own place, and have been here ever since. I have been here for nearly 5 years this October. I did work. But around 2018, I noticed my energy would slow down and I couldn’t stand on my feet for more than 3 hours. I been working with my dads business since 15, so about a decade. I think this was my first experience with “burnout”. I was luckily given smaller hours and not do tasks such as taking customer orders. I have a processing issue, I either dont understand something right away, or i processed it too quick. In May of 2019, I quit my job of 13 years.

My dad and his coworker that he treated like as a “teacher’s pet” began to micromanage me. That time was when summer vacation was fast approaching, and it would get hot around 9 to 10 am. I WAS GOOD at my cleaning job for the outside, and i was trying to do it as fast and best I could. But they brought me back out, and said I didnt sweep the flower petals right, (We had a tree that would drop flowers in the spring and summer) and my dad took the blower with this tone I always hated; and I started to cry right there. They left, I go back in the bathroom to cry and decided: I’m DONE. I finished washing the dishes for the last time and try to slip away without the coworker knowing, I was going to tell her when I got home. But she caught me, and was FURIOUS.

She said the most vile horrible things- such as along the lines of; “Be lazy, have no job then” “Text your dad that you’re quitting your job, and your name is Tammy, THATS your new name, now!”

She meant, and compared me to my MENTALLY ILL AUNT. Who can’t work because of mental illness. I refuse to associate with her ever since. She of course, pretended nothing happened when i would stop by there- and ofc seems to have forgotten. But I, never will.

Skipping to this past January, 2022. My mom and I were on the way to visit my sister, and celebrate my 30th birthday. She brings up I should “go back to work”. Just her saying that made my blood boil.

“You’re still so young, you should be working”

“Go to (mentions this store) for work”

“You dont have to go back to a restaurant place”

Even when I said I quit working at the job I went to after my dad’s business, because of TOXIC WORK ENVIRONMENT, SHE BRUSHED IT OFF.

One of my only explanations to why she wanted me to work again is simply because “you need a social standing” “you’re young” “Your sisters work, so you can too”

Made me so fucking angry. This woman is AWARE, of my disabilities, or doesn’t seem to know I HAVE LIMITED Time standing around before I shut down after 3-4 hours on a job, and I was treated HORRIBLY, for the last 3 years of my time working.

Oh, and it doesn’t stop there. To hammer the final rusty nail on the coffin, this happens:

On the way home after having my birthday, my mom asks about my niece and if was nice seeing her; and I said

“Yeah just don’t Iike the screaming she does (keep in mind she’s not 2 years old yet)”

I have sensitive hearing, and I cant be around kids often due to that,

SHE RESPONDS AN SAYS “Well you were like that too at that age, and it hurt our ears”

This fucking bitch GASLIGHTS ME FR THINGS I DID AS A CHILD IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL, BC IF YOU CONSIDER THAT TIME I WAS AUTISTIC BEFORE GETTING DIAGNOSED, I would only scream and cry to communicate.

SHE CONTINUES TO BERATE ME FOR CALING HER TOXIC IN THE PAST AND AT THAT POINT I PUT ON MY HEADPHONES TO BLOCK OUT HER HURTFUL BULLSHIT.

That’s probably going to the the last time in a long, long time, I will ever go with my family to celebrate my birthday. As of now, I have my YouTube channel. It’s been rough the past few months and I lost my monetization, but when I get it back I’ll plan my own goddamn trips by myself, or in the future with my beloved, sweet girlfriend.

[forestwater87]

How did you become a university Librarian? Did you do an English degree? Sorry if this is a weird question it just really interests me as I’m not sure what to do when I’m older

Eeee I got really excited about this question! 

Okay, the fun thing about librarianship is that all roads can lead to it: as long as you get an ALA-approved (assuming you’re American; if you aren’t I cannot help you) graduate degree you can do just about anything for undergrad. English majors are extremely common, just by the nature of who’s into the job, but literally it doesn’t matter; in fact, weirder and more specialized degrees can actually help in certain jobs, because they give you a ton of background info and qualifications than most of your contemporaries have.

I fell into it because I worked at a library in high school and fell in love with the environment, and when I realized I’d rather die than work in publishing (my previous life’s goal) I gravitated toward library school. I knew from the beginning that I’d need a Master’s -- and a very specific one at that -- so mostly my undergrad was just “grab a foundational degree and have fun with it.” That was really freeing, honestly. I had a ton of fun in undergrad.

Now, if you, Anon, were interested in getting into librarianship I’d have a handful of recommendations. These are all based on my very American experience, and there are probably smarter people than me with better advice but I’m the only one on this blog so heeeeerrreeeee we goooooooooo!

Undergrad

You need a 4-year degree. Full-stop. It doesn’t matter what kind, but you gotta have one to get into grad school.

Like I said, you can do just about anything for an undergraduate degree. Most of the time English is the BA of choice, because librarians love them some books, but some far less common ones that I think would be hugely helpful to a hopeful librarian would be:

Computer Science: Oh my god you need at least a baseline competency in computers/technology please you don’t have to code but you need to be able to turn a computer on and navigate just about any website/office application on just about any device at the very least you need to know how to Google

Business/Marketing: Particularly if you want to work in public libraries, where a bunch of your funding comes from begging politicians and convincing taxpayers to donate/vote to give you money

Law: If you want to be a law librarian

Medical . . . whatever, I don’t know what fields of medicine there are: If you want to work in a hospital or other medical library

History or Art History: If you’re interested in archives or museum librarianship

Education: School librarians in my state require you to be a certified teacher, and no matter what kind of library you end up in, you’ll end up teaching someone something a decent amount of the time

Communications: You’ll be doing a lot of it. Public speaking, too

Spanish/ASL/any not-the-common language: Hey, you never know what your patrons speak

Literally fucking anything I promise it doesn’t matter what you major in you will use it in a library at some point

Just be aware that you will need more than an undergrad degree. You’ll need probably 2 years of postsecondary schooling (more for certain types of librarianship), so get yourself comfortable with the idea of college.

If you’re like me (please don’t be like me), you might toy with the idea of getting a minor or two/double majoring to round out your skill set. Honestly I’d encourage it if you’re comfortable with the workload and have the time or money; like I said, there are no skills or educational background that won’t come in handy at some point. I promise. We see it all.

Along those lines, a wide expanse of hobbies can be hugely helpful too! You never know when your encyclopedic knowledge of Minecraft will be useful to a patron, but it absolutely will be.

Graduate School

All right, you’ve got your lovely little Bachelor’s Degree, maybe in something weird and esoteric for the fun of it . . . now you’re off to do more school!

It’s a bit complicated, because there are a handful of different titles an appropriate degree could have; my school called it “a Master of Science in Information Science” (MSIS), but other schools might just go with “Master’s of Information Science” (MIS), “Master’s of Library Science” (MLS), “Master’s of Library and Information Science” (MLIS) . . . it’s a mess. 

What you need to do is make sure the degree is approved by the American Library Association, who decides if a program is good enough to make you a librarian in the States. (Again, if you’re not American, good luck.)

Here’s a list of ALA-accredited programs and the schools that offer them.

The nice thing is accreditation has to be renewed at least every few years, so that means your program is always updated to make sure it’s in line with national standards. I’m not promising you’ll learn everything you need to be a librarian in grad school (oh my god you so won’t not even close hahahaha), but at least in theory you’ll be learning the most up-to-date information and methods.

(I’m curious to see how things have changed; when I was in school from 2015-17, the hot topics in library science were makerspaces (especially 3D printing), turning the library into the community’s “third space,” and learning how to incorporate video games into library cataloging and programming. No idea if those are still the main hot-button issues or if we’ve moved on to something else; I imagine information literacy and fake news are a pretty big one for current library students.)

Anyway! You pick a school, you might have to take a test or two to get in -- I had to take the GRE, which is like the SATs but longer -- almost certainly have to do all that annoying stuff like references and cover letters and all that, but assuming you’re in: now what?

There are a couple options depending on the school and the program, but I’m going to base my discussion around the way my school organized their program at the time, because that’s what I know dammit and I will share my outdated information because I want to.

My school broke the degree down into 5 specializations, which you chose upon application to the program:

Archives & Records Administration: For working in archives! I took some classes here when I was flirting with the idea, and it’s a lot of book preservation, organizing and caring for old documents and non-book media, and digitization. Dovetails nicely into museum work. It’s a very specific skillset, which means there will be jobs that absolutely need what you specifically can do but also means there aren’t as many of them. It makes you whatever the opposite of a “jack of all trades” is. You’re likely to be pretty isolated, so if you want to spend all your time with books this might be a good call; it’s actually one of the few library-related options that doesn’t require a significant amount of public-facing work. 

Library & Information Services: For preparation to work in public or academic (college) libraries. Lots of focus on reference services, some cataloging, and general interacting-with-the-public. You have to like people to go into library services in general, heads up.

Information Management & Technology: Essentially meaningless, but you could in theory work as like a business consultant or otherwise do information-related things with corporations or other organizations.

Information Storage & Retrieval: Data analytics, database . . . stuff. I don’t really know. Computers or something. Numbers 3 and 4 really have nothing to do with libraries, but our school was attempting to branch out into more tech-friendly directions. That being said, both this and #3 could definitely be useful in a library! Libraries have a lot of tech, and in some ways business acumen could be helpful. All roads lead to libraries; remember that.

Library & Information Services / School Library Media Specialist: This was the big kahuna. To be a school librarian -- at least in my state -- you need to be both a certified librarian and a certified teacher, which means Master’s degrees in both fields. What our school did was basically smushed them together into a combined degree; you took a slightly expanded, insanely rigorous 2-2.5 years (instead of the traditional 1.5-2) and you came out of it with two degrees and two certifications, ready to throw your butt into an elementary, middle/junior high, or high school library. Lots of focus on education. I started here before realizing I don’t like kids at all, then panicked and left. Back in 2017 this was the best one for job security, because our state had just passed a law requiring all school librarians to be certified with a MSIS/MLS/whatever degree. So lots of people already in school libraries were desperately flinging themselves at this program, and every school was looking for someone that was qualified. No idea if that’s changed in time.

No matter what concentration you went in with, you automatically graduated with a state certification to be a librarian, which was neat. You didn’t automatically get civil service status, though; for some public libraries you need to be put on a civil service list, which means . . . something, I’m not entirely sure. It involves taking exams that are only available at certain times of the year and I gave up on it because it looked hard. 

No one did more than 1 concentration, which is dumb because I wanted to do them all, but it takes a lot of time and money to take all the classes associated with all of them so I personally did #2, which was on the upper end of mid-tier popularity. School library and database services were far and away the most popular, and literally no one did the business one because it was basically useless, so library and archives were the middle children of which the library one was prettier.

THAT BEING SAID! Some forms of librarianship require a lot more education. A few of those are:

Law librarians: At least in my state, you gotta be a certified librarian and have a J.D. This is where the “big bucks” are -- though let’s be real, if you want to be a librarian you have zero interest in big bucks; reconcile yourself to being solidly middle-class and living paycheck-to-paycheck for the rest of your life or marrying rich -- which I guess is why it requires the most work.

School librarians: Like I mentioned, depending on the state you might need two degrees, and not all schools smush them into one. You might need to get a separate Master’s in education.

College librarians: Now, this depends on the college and the job; some colleges just need an all-access librarian, like mine. I didn’t need to specialize in anything, I just showed up with my degree and they took me. (Note: these sorts of entry-level positions tend to pay piss. Like, even more piss than most library gigs. Just a heads-up.) However, if you’re looking to get into a library of a higher-end university, you might be asked to have a second Master’s-level or higher degree just to prove you’re academic enough to party at their school. (Let’s be real, Harvard is almost certainly gonna want someone with a Ph.D. at the very least. That’s just how they roll.) Alternatively, the position might be for a specialty librarian, someone in charge of a field-specific library or field-specific reference services; if you’re being asked to head up the Science & Engineering Library at Masshole University, it’s reasonable to expect that you’ll be bringing a degree in engineering or some sort of science to the table. Colleges have so many different needs that predicting what kind of experience/education you should get is a bit of a challenge. Good luck. Some schools will help you out a bit with this; my grad school had dual degree programs where you could share credits between the MSIS and either an English or History Master’s so you could graduate with both in less time. I . . . started this, and then panicked at the thought of more school/writing a thesis and bailed, but it’s great if you’re into that idea!

What’s the point of the Information/Library Science degree?

You have to have the degree. If you don’t have the degree, you don’t get the job and you don’t make-a the money. Resign yourself to getting a Master’s degree or you’re gonna be bummed out and unemployed.

In terms of what you learn? Well, obviously it depends on the program, but I found that a lot of what I learned was only theoretically related to what I do on a daily basis. My instructors were lovely (well, the adjuncts anyway; the full-timers really didn’t want to be there and wanted to be off doing research and shit), but every library is so idiosyncratic and there’s such a massive umbrella of jobs you could get in one -- god, I didn’t even get into things like metadata services, which I learned basically nothing about in grad school but are super important to some positions -- that it’s hard to learn anything practical in a classroom.

However, besides the piece of paper that lets you make-a the money, there are two important things you should get from your grad school education:

Research skills: My god, you’re going to be doing so much research. If you’re a public librarian, you need to know how to Google just about anything. And if you’re a college librarian, being able to navigate a library database and find, evaluate, and cite sources . . . I mean, you’re going to be doing so much of that, showing students how to do that. Like a ridiculous amount of my day is showing students how to find articles in the virtual library. Get good at finding things, because much like Hufflepuffs, librarians need to be great finders.

Internship(s): Just about every library program will require an internship -- usually but not always in replacement of a thesis -- and if the one you’re looking at doesn’t, dump it like James Marsden in a romantic comedy. Internships are hugely important not only because they look good on a resume and give you some of those delicious, delicious references, but they are a snapshot of what your job is going to look like on a day-in, day-out basis; if nothing else, you’ll learn really fast what does and doesn’t appeal to you. As I mentioned, I wanted to be a school librarian for about half a semester. You know what changed my mind? My class required like 40 hours of interning at schools of each level. Being plopped into that environment like a play you’re suddenly acting in? Super helpful in determining whether or not this shit is for you.

What else should I learn, then?

Besides how to research basically anything? Here are some useful skills in just about any library:

Copyright law. Holy shit, do yourself a favor and learn about publishing/distribution laws in your state. Do you wanna show a movie as a fun program? You need to buy a license and follow super specific rules or it’s illegal! Does an instructor want to make copies of their textbook to give to the students? Make sure you know how much they can copy before it’s no longer fair use! Everything in my life would be easier if I’d taken the time to learn anything about copyright. I did not, and now I’m sad. (I lost out on a job opportunity because they wanted the librarian to be particularly knowledgeable in that kinda thing, and I was very not.)

Metadata and cataloging. In theory, you should learn this in grad school, but I was only given the bare basics and it wasn’t enough. Dublin Core, MARC-21, RDF -- there are so many different kinds of metadata schema, and I took a 6-week class in this and still don’t understand any of the words I just used in this sentence. But basically, to add items to a library catalog you often need to know how to input them into your library’s system; to an extent that’ll be idiosyncratic to your library’s software, but some of it will be based on a larger cataloging framework, so familiarity with those is very useful.

Public speaking and education. You’re gonna do a lot of it. Learn how to deal.

General tech savviness. Again, we’re not talking about coding but if you can navigate a WordPress website? If you know how to troubleshoot just about any issue with Microsoft Word, PowerPoint, etc.? If you can unjam printers and install software and use social media you’re going to be a much happier person. At the very least, know how to google tutorials and fake your way through; your IT person can only do so much, and a lot of it is probably going to fall on you.

Social work, diplomacy, general human relations kinda stuff. You’re going to be dealing with all sorts of people from all sorts of backgrounds, with every political view, personal problem, and life experience under the sun. You need to get very good at being respectful of diversity -- even diversity you don’t like* -- and besides separating your own personal views and biases from your work, you’ll be much better equipped to roll with the punches if you have, for example, conflict resolution training. Shit’s gonna get weird sometimes, I promise. (Once a student came in swinging around butterfly knives and making ninja noises. You know who knew how to deal with that? Not me!)

Standard English writing and mechanics. It’s not fair, but in general librarians are expected to have a competent grasp on the Standard English dialect, and others are less likely to be appreciated by the general populace. Obviously this differs based on your community and environment, and colloquialisms are sometimes useful or even necessary, but as a rule of thumb it’s a good call to be able to write “properly,” even if that concept is imperialist bullshit.

*I don’t mean Nazis. Obviously I don’t mean Nazis. Though there is a robust debate in the library community about whether Nazis or TERFs or whatever should be allowed to like, use library facilities for their own group meetings or whatever. I tend to fall on the “I don’t think so” side of the conversation, but there’s a valid argument to be made about not impeding people’s access to information -- even wrong or harmful information. 

Any other advice?

Of course! I love to talk. Let’s see . . .

Get really passionate about freedom of information and access: A library’s main reason for existing is to help people get ahold of information (including fiction) that they couldn’t otherwise access. If you’re a public librarian, you have to care a lot about making sure people can access information you probably hate. (If you’re an academic librarian it’s a little more tricky, because the resources should meet a certain scholarly threshold, and if you’re a school librarian there are issues of appropriateness to deal with, but in general more info to more people is always the direction to push.) Get ready to defend your library purchases to angry patrons or even coworkers; get ready to defend your refusal to purchase something, if that’s necessary. Get ready to hold your nose and cringe while you add American Sniper to your library collection, because damn it, your patrons deserve access to the damn stupid book. Get really excited about finding new perspectives and minority representation, because that’s also something your patrons deserve access to. Get really excited about how technology can make access easier for certain patrons, and figure out how to make it happen in your library. Care about this; it’s essential that you’re passionate about information -- helping your patrons find it, making sure they can access it, evaluating it, citing it . . . all of it. Get ranty about it. Just do it.

Be prepared to move if necessary: One of my professors told us that there was one thing that would always guarantee you a job that paid well -- this was in 2016 but still -- that as long as you had it you could do whatever you wanted. And that was a suitcase. Maybe where you live is an oversaturated market (thanks for having 6 library schools in a 4-hour radius, my state). Maybe something something economic factors I don’t really understand; the point is that going into this field, you should probably make peace with the idea that you’ll probably either end up taking a job that doesn’t make enough money or struggle a lot to even find one . . . or you’re going to have to go where the jobs are. It’s a small field. Just know that might be a compromise you have to make, unless you can get a strictly remote job.

Read: This sounds stupidly obvious but it’s true! Read things that aren’t your genre, aren’t your age range; patrons are going to ask you for reading advice all the goddamn time, especially if you’re a public librarian, so the more you can be knowledgeable about whatever your patrons might ask you about, the easier your life will be. If you’re considering librarianship you probably love to read anyway, so just ride that pony as hard as you possibly can.

Learn to be okay with weeding -- even things you don’t think deserve it: You are going to have to recycle books. You’re going to have to throw away books. You’re going to have to take books out of the collection and make them disappear in some fashion or another. There are a lot of reasons -- damage and lack of readership are big ones -- and there’s no bigger red flag to a librarian than someone saying “I could never destroy a book.” That kind of nonsense is said by people who’ve never had to fit 500 books onto a shelf built for 450. Archivists are different, of course, as are historians, and everyone should have a healthy respect for books both as physical objects and as sources of information, but you’re going to have to get rid of them sometimes, and you’re just going to have to learn how to do that dispassionately.

Have fun! No one gets into this because they want money; if you want to be a librarian, or work in any library-adjacent field, it’s because you really care about the values of librarianship, or the people in your community, or preserving and sharing as great a wealth of information as possible. Your job will often be thankless and it’ll sometimes be exhausting. There will be times where it’s actually scary. And unless you’re rich as balls, it will make you stare at your student loans and sigh with despair. (You may be living in your parents’ basement while you sigh at your loans because you can’t afford to live on your own, for an example that has zero relevance to any authors of this blog, living or dead.)  I can’t tell you if it’s worth it -- though you’ll probably find out pretty quickly during your internship, because that’s what internships are for. All I can say is that I love it, and I can’t imagine doing anything else.

[hundredsofmilesaway]

CW: grooming, emotional abuse

———

It’s been over a year since I last posted on this account. I only feel compelled to do so because today is October 3rd, which was my ex and I’s anniversary. We broke up at the end of March, but it wasn’t the long distance that ended it. I don’t have many other platforms where I can share, so I’m telling my story here.

I was groomed. My “ex” (I don’t like to call him that now that I see things for what they really were) was my former teacher. He had known me since I was 13. He became my teacher when I was 16. I developed a crush on him, and he didn’t shut it down. He played into it. I was his “favorite” student and everyone knew it. He convinced me to believe that my best friend was a liar and had it out for me. My whole world started to revolve around him about halfway through my junior year of high school. My emotions were dependent on how he was treating me on any particular day. He would text me daily. Nothing we talked about or did was of a sexual nature during that time, but it was still wrong. I see that so clearly now.

Literally a month and a day after I turned 18, he came to visit me at college. A grown man seeing a college freshman. It was where he had graduated from too, so he could be there “just to visit campus” without raising much suspicion. And that was when we officially started dating. October 3, 2015. We were together for 5 1/2 years. I thought he was the love of my life. I thought I was going to marry him. I thought that once enough time had passed, it wouldn’t be weird anymore and people would accept our relationship. For that entire time, only a handful of people knew about us. He was afraid of telling everyone. He clearly knew what he was doing was wrong, but that didn’t stop him. We had to sneak around whenever we spent time with each other. He wouldn’t talk to me on the phone or FaceTime me because he lived in his sister’s basement and he was afraid she would overhear us. He visited me once every couple of months, if that. Our entire relationship existed on a cell phone.

Looking back now, I realize how much I put up with. He was emotionally manipulative, he gaslit me any time I brought up my feelings, he wouldn’t give me reassurance when I needed it. He hardly communicated with me beyond text. Any time I wanted to talk about something that bothered me, he would ghost me for hours. I would get the silent treatment from a man nine years my senior. He had an emotional affair starting in 2017 that lasted three summers, and he didn’t tell me until this year. Of course he didn’t frame it that way, he simply said one of his friends confessed her feelings and he didn’t tell her he was in a relationship until much later.

Right after we broke up, I was absolutely devastated. He was the one who ended it. I cried all the time, I didn’t want to do anything. I stalked his social media to see what he was up to. I reached out a couple times, trying to act casual or pretend I was ready to have a conversation for closure. It wasn’t until June (about two months later) that memories from high school started to resurface and I had the realization that he groomed me. That, in and of itself, was a whole different kind of devastating. I was having near-constant flashbacks of these horrible memories of him abusing his power when I was just a teenager. I finally blocked him on everything and slowly started to feel better. I had been going to therapy consistently for over a year, but this was the first time I had spoken about it.

I’m a teacher. This is my third year. I teach high school students and I cannot even fathom how an adult can think of a high schooler in that way. They’re just children. I was just a child. What happened to me was not and still is not okay. People took notice when I was in high school, but he was well-liked in our community so any allegations about the two of us were brushed under the rug as just being rumors. He is still employed at the same school. While I know he hasn’t dated any other students, I know for a fact that I am not the only one who experienced some level of grooming from him.

But the kicker of all of this is that I have no proof. There is no evidence of what he did to me except for my own story. And while everything he did when I was underage was extremely questionable, it wasn’t illegal. I think that even if I did have proof, nothing would come of it. This is why survivors often don’t report. There is no confidence in the system that is built to protect predators.

To any young people reading this, you are not mature for your age. You are not more worthy because an adult is showing interest in you. If they can’t be with someone their own age, that is a huge red flag. I wish I had known that, but again, I was just a kid.

I don’t know if anyone has kept reading until this point. If you did, thank you. I just want to end by saying that I’m happy now. Genuinely happy. I still have a lot to work through with the help of therapy, but I have never felt so light and so free since finally getting out from under his grip. I know that I’m going to be okay. I’m a survivor.

[jed-thomas]

Debt and Unreality at a British University

Most of the time, when journalists or researchers ask students in Britain about their “concerns” and their “experience”, they’re not looking for answers like: ‘I don’t feel real.’ Because, well, what do you do with that?

A friend of mine sat on a stiff leather couch in the hallway, tiredly scrolling. She’d just clocked out. For nine grand, we were getting about 7 hours of teaching a week. The rest of the time, of course, was supposed to be devoted to reading all the material we’d be discussing in seminars or attending lectures on. But she was working part-time at a Pizza Express. The maintenance loans only stretch so far, especially with rent around here. And you have to catch a bus to get to campus. Lots of us, our parents helped out. But if the ‘rents can’t or won’t pay, you’re a little stuffed.

In 2019, it was reported that over half of young people are now attending university. These figures represent the fulfilment of a target set by Tony Blair at a Labour Party conference in 1999, during his first term as Prime Minister. In July of the year before, Blair’s parliament passed the Teaching and Higher Education Act, introducing tuition fees for universities across the UK. In 1990, around 25% of young people stayed in some form of full-time education beyond the age of 18. Today, most young Britons will have experienced the presumption that they’re a university student and frequently, the expectation.

Yesterday, the University of Warwick’s official Twitter account shared a link to a blog post on how to ‘relieve intense stress in 60-seconds.’ The post was written by a current student.

In 1962, towards the end of Harold Macmillan’s Conservative premiership, “ordinarily resident” students were exempted from tuition fees and made eligible for a means-tested maintenance grant. Shortly after the Teaching and Higher Education Act of 1998, maintenance grants were replaced with loans. In 2004, the cap on tuition fees rose to £3,000 and by 2010, it had risen to its current rate of around £9,000. There were protests over that last increase, of course. The protests were in 2010 and I went to university in 2017. I now owe the British government around £27,000 for tuition and around £10,000 for maintenance. If you’re going this year, you’ll end up owing roughly the same - more, if your family earns less than mine.

You hear things. “Oh, they’re antidepressants.” A friend with a weird flatmate who never leaves their room. Oddly intense desperation eking out of drunk students from some corner of a smoking-area. Vaguely recognisable names and their time of death. “Honestly, just couldn’t be bothered to get up.” An acquaintance from your course drops out and moves back home. Barely concealed frustration in your professor’s tone, hushed rants in faculty corridors. And you notice other things. Admissions of 'suicidal ideation' and life-crises on a FaceBook page which is supposed to be about students sending anonymous messages of romantic interest. Sarcastic tweets about ‘mental health dogs’ and ‘mindfulness seminars’ have become cliché. A routinely empty chair in your seminar room. Strained eyes staring into the middle-ground, silence attending the teacher’s question. Dysfunction as normality. Your diagnosis in your bio next to where you go to uni.

In 2014, it was reported that one in seven full-time students also work full-time. The same report put the proportion of full-time students working part-time at a third. A number of reasons were given as to why they were doing this. I wonder, when they look at their bank accounts, or their accommodation, or their text on sociology, on Latin American history, on virology, existentialism, do they feel they have a handle on things? "I’m a full-time barista, full-time student." "Hello, I’m an impossibility."

For students, the British university is an experiment in unreality. Am I a customer or a pupil? Am I demanding a service from a business or being educated by my elders for my own good? Will it be my fault for selecting a ‘non-applicable’ degree or their fault for selling it to me? Everything is optional, even when it isn’t. You spend all week pouring over the text but feel embarrassed to correct or question the people who clearly didn’t because the professor doesn’t: “Don’t worry if you haven’t done the reading.” Next time, you just put in a sentence or two to fill one of the many silences, improvising off of what others have said, pretending you read whatever it was. Then, of course, coursework is set assessing your knowledge of the curriculum. You spend a couple of days stressed out, hoping to turn your lack of knowledge into a scholarly tone of caution and hedged bets. You go to a careers fair, a student union election, a party, a debate. Nothing sticks, tomorrow is the same day. Your teachers are devotees of a faith but you have to fill the ranks of their picket against the Church. The protestors mass, fill the campus with tension and noise, and then, in a couple of weeks, you’re sitting in the same seminar room with the same professor doing the same thing. You have to think surprisingly hard to remember that past, fugitive now in an opaque present. The only thing that changes is that a few new buildings emerge from their shells of scaffolding. When you miss almost five weeks, there is an email or two. One time, because of your chronic truancy, you get some mark or something, some strike against your name. Nothing happens. In fact, you find it incredibly hard to even find the place where that warning is actually recorded, displayed. You graduate with a First.

Recently, there has been a steady trickle of data, news items, and reports, gradually exposing the rate of suicide in higher education in the UK. It came to a head last week, as a Conservative peer, Lord Lucas, called for a bill which would give British universities a duty of care in the mental health outcomes of their students. Lord Lucas’ plea represents the mainstream of a movement by aggrieved parents of young people who took their lives whilst at university. One of these young people was Benjamin Murray, a 19-year-old in his first year studying English Literature at Bristol University. Shortly before falling to his death, Murray was told by the university that he would have to leave. A local newspaper reports that, according to sources at the university, his attendance was ‘sporadic’ and he had ‘failed to hand in expected work’. Discussing interactions he had with Murray which revealed that the undergraduate was suffering with an anxiety disorder, senior tutor Ben Gunter remarks that: 'A large number of students we see have varying levels of anxiety.’

I mean, look at it this way. You’re saddled with a debt, a sizeable debt. It makes you nervous just looking at all the zeroes. But this moment of selling your soul was planned, it was expected from the beginning. And there are voices all around you that keep coming up and whispering in your ear. It’s just a tax on spending after education. No-one’s expecting you to pay it back. It all gets forgiven when you hit 40. What’s a person to do in that situation? The same government that portrayed the national debt as an existential threat is the same government that turns around and says: Don’t worry. Does debt matter or doesn’t it? Is this real or isn’t it?

People are screaming, again. It's 5:35 in the afternoon. Earliest you’ve heard it this week. They’re really drunk. Or on something. You’re only dimly aware of it, really. It’s ubiquitous, it’s ambiance. Dimly, you wonder if they realise how loud they are being, how obvious their public intoxication is. You perk up when you recognise a few voices. People on your course - you’ve got an essay due tomorrow at noon. Down the ages, goes the cliché, students are drunk and reckless with deadlines. But you’ve been wondering whether it really matters if you get a 1:1 instead of a 2:1. Don’t they inflate the numbers, anyway? And besides, it's experience that matters on a CV, everyone’s got a degree these days. I’d just be another idiot with a 1:1. Your flatmate drunkenly knocks on your door and you seriously consider going back on your refusal to go out tonight.

A survey of undergraduates in seven universities in England reportedly found very high rates of dangerous drinking, with 41% identified as ‘hazardous drinkers’. It also considers that one in five students were likely to be diagnosable as alcoholic.

Every weekend students give in to the unreality. I know what you're thinking. Of course, young people have always experimented with substances, acted like they were invulnerable, ignored consequences. But many of the young people before us were unfamiliar with this level of unreality, this level of confusion. So the recklessness intensifies in those claustrophobic spaces that remain open to us.

I have deadlines, right now. A few days to go. I’ve been looking at the news, all the statistics on internships and jobs falling through for graduates and young people, in general. The worst hit. I’ve been talking to my friends, moaning about the job hunt, the rejections and the no-replies. Anecdotes tumble down the grape-vine of graduates from respected universities not even being able to get a part-time job at a supermarket because of the number of applicants or whatever. A couple of my friends are intermitting due to mental health problems. When I was home, before the most recent lockdown, a number of my friends and I worked at a pub. I’m back at uni and they’re still there. Class of 2020, all of us. Of course, they like it, it’s fine. But where do we go from here?

Don’t ask me, mate, I’ve got deadlines.

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

hello this isnt abt batfam or batman but i saw your age and was wondering how do i survive till 23? i am 18 now and 5 more years is very hard to survive please help

Interesting question. I turn 24 in ten days, and sometimes even I’m not sure. I guess I’ll talk about how I personally stayed alive this long before I try to give advice.

The very first thing I would say is that I am religious, and that worldview makes a difference. I don’t mean that in a “everything happens for a reason” kind of way, and as a matter of fact, I very much dislike that line of thinking. It does a lot of damage, and I’m aware that it rightly puts a lot of people off from religion in general. 

I hold two beliefs that I think are helpful in terms of survival. First, I believe that humans are by nature bad. Counterintuitive in this conversation? Stick with me. Every day, but especially at my lowest moments, I hate the things that I am. In a metaphorical sense, my mind whispers to me that I am selfish, that I am cowardly, that I think bad things and I am capable of worse. I’m hateful, I’m terrifying, and I am absolutely broken. At my core, there is something fundamentally wrong, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t fix it. 

I am disgusting. I’m several thousand evil things in a trench-coat pretending to be anything but myself, and I’m not fooling anyone. 

Well, yeah. Yeah, I’m all those things and more: manipulative, lying, self-obsessed, angry, unforgiving, and judgmental. I could, of course, go on.

Here’s the thing-- everybody is. I am no better and no worse than any other person in the universe, and though I am ever abhorrent thing, I am. I have the same dignity, the same worth, and the same life as any human anywhere. The dark things are part and parcel of my humanity, but although I am not good, I do good. 

I will never be perfect because that just isn’t possible, but I can be kind. I can be loving, I can be strong, and I can be wise. 

Shit, doesn’t that set me free?

There’s a lot more to this conversation, and the rest goes, in brief, like this: at the bottom of the darkness that is every soul, we have one great fear-- if I am truly evil, no one will ever love me. Good news on that front, there is a God who does. If that’s something you want to talk about, hey hit me up. I’ll evangelize on my own time. 

Back to it. My second belief is a kind of understanding about the passage of time, and it’s sort of hard to boil down into a few sentences, but I’ll try my best. I believe in a grand struggle between good and evil. I know the beginning of that struggle. I know the end of that struggle: that good will win. I am a part of the middle. 

I see my role in the universe as extraordinary small but absolutely necessary. I have a two-fold purpose-- love God, love humans. I interpret both as a call to help others in any way I can, and I think in the way my life has worked out so far, that’s really the most important thing keeping me alive. 

I see all of this through the frame of my religion, but I would argue that everything I’ve said so far is applicable outside of that frame, because a lot of folks get to the same place from a fully secular point of view. I cannot be perfect. I should care about and fight for other people. That’s really all we’re working from here. 

A few years back, when people asked me this question-- how do you stay alive?-- I used to answer “spite,” and that’s not untrue. I am a very angry person, and the grand majority of that anger is directed at what I perceive as unjust acts. I have a deep-seated hatred of establishments (including the established church), and you’d be shocked at how much of a motivator that can be. 

I grew up in an environment that was very intentional in teaching me to identify injustice. Though I have radically departed from many of the teachings of my childhood, the part about fighting for others was something I learned at day one, and that bit has stuck around. For the most part, I grew up in an environment where everyone was on the same page about it. 

And theeeeeeen I went to undergrad. Hello, Texas A&M. I hit campus as an 18 year old fully incapacitated by anxiety. I was the kind of person who didn’t-- in fact couldn’t-- speak in front of others. I had always lived my life in a way that minimized myself, because if I never spoke, if I never disagreed, if I never drew attention, I would never make anyone angry. I knew from experience that angry people hurt me, and I was afraid of pain. 

Then I experienced the absolute shenaniganry of conservative Texans. The culture shock sent me to space and back, and on the return trip I decided that I couldn’t be quiet anymore. 

I learned to speak my freshman year so that I could scream FUCK YOU. It was incredibly painful, and I can’t tell you exactly how I managed it other than I was angry, and I didn’t want to lose. 

I fought a similar battle on my homefront against parents that didn’t know how to deal with a daughter that disagreed, or even worse, a daughter that wasn’t okay. I wasn’t a perfect child anymore. I knew I had anxiety, I knew I was depressed, and we all knew who I blamed for that. They hadn’t been the perfect parents they thought they were. 

I found myself growing, little by little, into a person that could write and argue and hold her ground. That’s personal growth for sure, but it didn’t necessarily help my mental health. As a matter of fact, my health declined all through undergrad, and in my third and final year, I cracked.

I was desperate. I was isolated. I was flooded by fear and despair, and I was falling apart. I don’t remember huge chunks of undergrad because I was so depressed that the memories didn’t stick, but I do remember my tipping point.

It was something small. The ceiling fan in my bedroom was broken. The lighting chain worked fine, but if anyone pulled the fan chain, the whole thing would stop working. I mixed up which chain was which, pulled the wrong cord, and broke it for the fourth time. 

For some reason, that was it. I lay down on my floor and cried for an hour, and while I did, my mind went to, as the kids say, a dark place. Finally, I called my mom and begged for psychiatric medication, something I had always been afraid to ask for. At the time, my parents believed that antidepressants were overprescribed, and they mocked parents that let their children take them. 

At around the same time, I was deciding what to do with my life. I was about to graduate, and I had always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. Instead, everyone in my life pushed me towards law school. I didn’t know what to do, but I began fantasizing, not about going to law school exactly, but about being the kind of person that could go to law school. 

I knew that law school would be entail public speaking and constant conflict and the kind of work that would be hard for a person who sometimes couldn’t leave her bed. I wanted to be someone who could do all of that, but I didn’t believe I was.

Enter Donald Trump. Post-November 2016, I struggled to understand how something like that could happen, and I watched everyone else deal with it too. I began confused, moved to distraught, then returned to what I always am: angry.

January 2017 was the inauguration and shortly afterwards, the “Muslim ban.” I read the news on my bedroom floor, and there was one specific part that stuck out to me. There were pictures of lawyers flooding the airports. There was a court case headed for SCOTUS.

I suddenly realized that one group-- one very select group-- was doing what I was powerless to accomplish. I hated establishments, and there was one group that could challenge and change them. Some people could fight in the way I wanted to, and those people were lawyers.

I have a very distinct memory of looking into the bathroom mirror of my third-year apartment and thinking, “I will be miserable for the rest of my life, no matter what I do or what career I pick. I might as well be a miserable lawyer.”

So I took my antidepressants and I went to law school. I’m not going to rehash everything that happened there in this particular post, because in this topic, I don’t think it matters. The relevant part is that I went, and I had my reason why.

Sure as hell can tell you that law school wasn’t good for my health. The last three years have been, in terms of sheer stress and despair, the worst of my life. I picked up a self-harm habit, endured consistent humiliation, cycled through six different antidepressants, had horrible relationships, and developed a psychotic disorder. Don’t get me wrong, there were good things too. I met people that are important me, and beyond that, I grew. 

I know that 18 year old me would be absolutely flabbergasted by the woman I am now, cracks and flaws included. I wouldn’t say I’m healthy or okay, but I am more healthy and more okay. I’m coming out of this mess with the institutional power I wanted, and now I get to decide what to do with it. 

I was wrong three years ago when I looked in that bathroom mirror. I know now that I won’t be miserable for the rest of my life. I’m going to be happy someday, and to the parts of me that say otherwise: fuck you. I’ve learned to say it now. 

I graduated law school this week, and this month, I’ve felt better than I ever have before. I’m singing again, I dropped two medications, and suddenly, everything is so, so funny. I’ve been laughing so hard my face hurts the day after. 

This is a huge turning point in my life, so I’ve been meditating on my past. I’ve come to the conclusion that in most of the ways that matter, I won. My family has been forced to accept what I am. I became the person I wanted to be, even though I thought I wasn’t capable of that. 

I know for sure that there will be times in my life where I hit rock bottom again, and that’s not gonna be fun. It’s likely that with my mental health issues, I will always have to work harder than my peers to get the same results. That’s unfair. 

I also know that high points exist, and I will have them. I am having them, and I will again. 

I guess in recap, I know that I have deep flaws and ugly parts, but I am at peace with that. I know that I must help others, and in pursuit of that goal, I became a person I like more than the girl I used to be. 

You have exactly the same potential. I want you to know that whatever you are now, that’s not your forever. Circumstances change, and you will change too. We’re human, you and I, and that’s an exciting thing to be. 

Your worth comes from your humanity itself, both evil and good, not the things you do or the fights you win. You never have to compare yourself to others because you are exactly the same as everybody else-- no better, but certainly no worse. You’re a person. That’s enough. 

I’m telling you all those things, and as advice, I’ll say this: get angry and fight. Fight for others. You can help them, and you should. Fight for yourself. You are worthy of respect, and everyone else should give it to you. Fight yourself. Any part of you that preaches despair is wrong. 

Find the thing that makes you angry and use it. Things are fucked up! There’s a lot to be angry about. I put it this way to my classmates, now my attorney peers: you get one hill to die on. What’s your hill? Go and defend it. 

Here’s an interesting thing, anon. Your hill can be yourself. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re right. Five years is a lot, and all the years beyond that are more. Take your antidepressants and go.

[sheismyteacher]

hi loves,

im pretty sure ive alr done all old monthly challenges that used to be on here in 2017/2018 including my own lol but @baeby-tc made a new one and its once again 2am and im missing her so heres summ facts u might not know yet!!!

1. describe your tc’s physical appearance.

shes about my height so 5'7, she has a blonde pixie cut and bright blue eyes, n freckles!! and shes super skinny

2. what was the first thing you’ve ever said to your tc?

probably hi?? i honestly dont remember much from our first class

3. is your tc single or taken? or are you unsure? and are you single or taken?

single!! and im taken lol ive been dating my gf for a year n 11 months

4. is your tc more of the athletic type, the nerdy type or the artsy type?

nerdy looool

5. if you and your tc were in high school together, do you think you’d be friends?

honestly idk? we very well could have been because we were both kinda alt (me leaning towards goth, her leaning towards punk) but also both insanely private introverts lmfsjshhd so we might not even have approached each other

6. name one song that reminds you of your tc and explain why that song reminds you of them.

savannah by lp hehee we're both lp stans but she got me into her music and the first song we talked abt was savannah

7. is your tc fashionable or are they more of the simple type? what is one outfit you’d love to see them wear?

oh girl... 💀💀 i love her w my whole heart but if i see one more silver glimmery cardigan i might lose my mind. id love to see her in jeans and a crop top but shed Never so honestly i'll take anything that's not... horrible

8. would you be willing to become a teacher and teach your tc’s subject if it meant you two could be together?

haha funny cause... that's literally what im doing... going into my second year of uni... going to do my internship with her this year... ummmmmm.....

9. does your tc drink or smoke?

no!!!

10. name one item that is always on your tc’s desk.

her planner loool shes super organized

11. has your tc ever done anything that has either thrown you off, annoyed you, angered you or bothered you in any way? if so, what did they do?

yea i think I've only been pissed at her once?? i was really struggling with a situation and usually when i rant to her she fucks around and makes jokes n all and im fine with it i dont take myself that seriously but this time i was genuinely rly upset and she didnt rly notice i guess although i alr lowkey told her to stop n she kept making dumbass jokes so i was like "this is genuinely not funny like im being serious for once" and she did apologize which i appreciate but i genuinely think that's the only time ive been upset with her! and shes said things before that other people would see as shocking but has always apologised even when not necessary shes super respectful

12. does your tc have any past jobs that you know of, before becoming a teacher?

no actually!! she probably had a job in hs/uni??? but weve never talked abt that wow mayb i should ask her sometime

13. does your tc have kids or siblings? if so, how many?

both! she has one younger sister and two sons!

14. are you taking your tc’s class next year?

as i said ive graduated but im acc gonna b an english teacher as well now and imma do my 2nd yr internship w her!!!

15. has your tc ever met your parents? if you were there, what was the meeting like?

yes PLSJSJDJDJD at my school musical... and it was lowkey awkward cause i told her all abt how my father is lowkey terrifying so she was cautious as hell 😭😭

16. has your tc ever given you detention? if so, what was it like?

naw i never have her a reason to

17. has your tc ever failed you? if so, how did you react? if not, how would you react?

noo english has always been my best subject so she never had to.. but if she did i probably messed it up!! shes fair

18. what are your tc’s hobbies/interests? are they similar to yours?

help shes a dancer and i hate dancing w my entire heart so umm.. no

19. have you ever spoken on the phone with your tc? what did you talk about?

never actually!! we've texted so often but never called?? except if u count the time she (or her son?) called me on accident for about 6 seconds jdjdhd ion think she even knows that happened, i hung up and forgot to mention it again)

20. if you had your tc’s class during quarantine, what were your zoom calls like? if not, have you spoken to your tc since quarantine?

we've texted, but not as much as we used to and it's making me SAD but i feel like we just dont have a lot to say to each other

21. if you had the chance to go anywhere in the world with your tc, where would you go? what would you do?

she loves switzerland so let's go

22. does your tc have any nicknames for you?

she shortens my name sometimes heheh i loooove when people do that

23. have you ever cried in front of your tc? why? how did they react?

no, i don't cry that often, and ESPECIALLY not in public

24. have you ever walked/drove to/from school with your tc?

yeah we cycled together a few times! but usually were off on different times

25. do you know which teachers your tc is friends with at school? if so, do you like those teachers?

yea theres a couple she likes but shes not rlly *friends* with anyone, but we have the same opinions on most teachers

26. what does your tc’s voice sound like?

it's very soft, and not in volume but in vibes? and she has pretty sharp t's and her r's roll a little hehe

27. do you like your tc as a teacher? are they a good teacher?

oh yes 100%

28. does your tc prefer books, shows or movies?

im gonna go ahead and assume books, but she does have netflix as well

29. is your tc stern or easy going, in class?

pretty stern? i know a couple of people are lowkey scared of her but like shes not awful she just makes sure the class gets shit done

30. how would you describe you and your tc’s relationship?

like a friendship! i asked her abt it once (ages ago) and she said that she was tryna figure out how she felt abt me when it came to labels like 'friend' cause im also her ex student etc so she didn't rly wanna call me that yet?? but i think if we keep talking we'll get there. we trust each other immensely

31. do you address your tc by their first or last name?

firsttt since march 27th 2017 😌

[flameontheotherside]

My best friend, my twin flame, my everything...

We are on our 5th year. Boy does time fly! I've definitely learned so much since the beginning of it all. My life took a drastic turn into being homeless for a full year and Erik, God and Granny helped me through it. Especially God. I owe him my gratitude for everything I NOW have!

But I also have to say that through everything, Erik has been there. He's seen all parts of me. He's still here. Even when I'm angry and yell at him to fuck off, he's always there, always loving and cheering me own to be my best, do my best and serve humanity to the best of my ability.

I want to spend the day with him.

I think we will cuddle and watch a few movies or documentaries. I've been geeking out on ancient history docs. Love history and always wanted to be an archeologist or historian but I'm not a fan of school. Not matter what I'm studying. I graduated culinary school by a narrow margin after failing a class (I got stupid and failed on purpose because the teacher was hot....he didn't teach it the second time).

Ugh...just remembered I have a package to drop off.

Will probably just get that overnight anyway or do it on Sunday. I don't think it will kill anyone. I just want to relax. So I'll likely sleep in and stay in bed watching stuff.

It's hooked up to chrome cast AND my computer effectively giving me 3 screens so I can watch TV and work at my desk. Usually on some doodles or YouTube videos.

We went to Walmart so I could pick up some shorts because it's officially summer! It's hardly raining and it's about as high as 70 which is hot for me. Makes me not as happy about being in FL for a week because it's a lot hotter and that kind of sun fucked up my skin. Rashes and sun burns. Not fun.

Anyway so I got upset that I gained the weight back.

I'm frustrated. My depression makes me eat or starve. No in between. This time all I do is eat. I was at 175 beginning of 2017 and 125 beginning of 2019 and now I'm stuck at 165 and 170. I just hate this extra weight. It pisses me the fuck off that I let me self go since I left FL. 😤 I feel uncomfortable and disgusting.

I love eating candy, junk food, deserts, cake, ice cream, dairy (even though I'm lactose intolerant), and I stopped drinking soda. I go to my comfort food when I get stoned and when I'm watching TV. Ugh it's frustrating. I know this shit is bad but I love good tasting things.

Anyway I'm on some new medication.

It's supposed to help me lose weight. I doubt it will help at all. I'm on wellbutrin and it helped me lose most of my weight but back then it was a higher dose.

Well I'm supposed to go to the gym tonight.

I just realized that I have a few packages in the mail coming today. Will pretend these are from Erik 🤣👌. We'll, we are twin flames so in a way he did. 🥰

[bittysvalentines]

Would That I

From: @lizards-online

To: @pieandpucks

Sometimes in life, things are missed. Opportunities are lost, but as a whole we cannot stop moving. Still, something feels left behind, dropped in a time before. We keep going, with something lost and something gained, until life gives us our chance again,to take destiny’s chance to reconnect and find what is lost. 

At Samwell University resided one Dr. Jack Zimmermann, a professor of history with an affinity for ice sports and queer literature. His smile was kind and his hair was just beginning to hint at touches of grey. He was a hard grader, and his readings were long, but his passion for teaching and his love of his students always showed through in his work. Students left his classes better thinkers, harder workers, and with only the smallest crush on him. Okay sometimes, not so small. Even the straightest of men recognized that Dr.Jack Zimmermann was a resident hottie. Rumor had it that he was voted “Samwell’s Most Gorgeous” four years straight back in the day.  

 Jack shuffled a few papers at his podium so as to get them in order before the end of his lecture. “Everyone, thank you for your attention today, just remember if you want to earn some extra credit points, you can attend one of the alumni guest lectures that will be on campus this weekend, and then write a one page response on the speaker’s topic and your thoughts. I’ll be popping in to a couple of the speakers myself, so if you see me, don’t be afraid to say hello.” 

Jack began walking across the front of the classroom, dispersing flyers advertising the Alumni Symposium to be passed back. 

A student in the back of the room raised her hand, staring down at the flyer in her hand “Dr. Zimmermann, when did you graduate Samwell?”   

Jack paused for a moment. “2015. Why?”

“Well, I was just looking at the graduation year of some of these alumni, and it says here Eric Bittle Graduated in 2017. So that means you were only two years ahead of Eric Bittle when he went here!” 

The class erupted in murmurs and comments. Eric Bittle was one of Samwell’s most famous alumni. He led Samwell to the Frozen Four his senior year, while being the first out NCAA hockey captain, was drafted by the Falconers and was the first openly LGBT+ player in the league. He won the Stanley Cup his rookie year (first of many) along with the Calder and Art Ross. Even outside of hockey he was famous for his witty vlog which evolved from a cooking vlog to a hockey, cooking and life blog with now over 18 million followers from all walks of life. 

Jack swallowed hard. Yes, it was true, his time at Samwell and Eric Bittle’s time did overlap by two years, and in fact, during those two years, he ran into Eric all the time. They were...friends. Shitty made sure of that. Jack would watch the hockey team’s games, not only to support Shitty, but to watch Eric weave and maneuver across the ice unlike anyone else. Even though Jack had decided against playing in college, he never did lose his love of the game. Meanwhile Eric would hover about the library doing anything but homework when Jack was working. Plus, the semester they took a class together was definitely a bonding experience. But it had been a long time since they had spoken. After Jack graduated, he felt too awkward reaching out to someone who he had a massive crush on but was WAY out of his league. And when one month turned into two, and then one year turned into five, and five years into a decade, Jack had trouble remembering where all the time had gone.

“Hah. Uh, yes he was two years younger than me. We had a class together once.” Jack decided firmly against mentioning his large crush on the blond to his entire History 336 Seminar. 

The students in the room all lamented about how cool it was that their professor knew a celebrity. 

Jack closed the door to his office and scrubbed his hand over his face and let out a sigh. Would it be awkward to see Eric again? Would Eric even remember him? Probably not. It was just a youthful crush. Even if Eric was still as attractive and charming and wonderful as he was back in the day, Jack was far past his prime. He could just not go to that lecture, but he felt drawn to it, as if something wanted him to see Eric speak. Jack picked up his phone and dialed the most recent number. It picked up on the first ring. 

“What the FUCK is up Zimmermann, to what do I owe the pleasure of one of your rare and coveted calls? Are you in legal trouble? Did you kill someone? Did you kick a goose and now you’re losing your Canadian citizenship?” Shitty was Jack’s best friend. He was boisterous and energetic but genuine nonetheless. His words washed over Jack with a wave of excitement and familiarity. 

“Haha Shits. I’m good. And no, no geese, at least not this time. I was just wondering, would you want to come down to Samwell this weekend? There’s an alumni symposium going on, and I think you’d enjoy the speakers.” 

“Ah ha old Jackabelle misses me. Of fuckin course I’ll come down to the symposium, but I’ll warn ya man I’m not gonna sit through more than ONE old white man talk. ONE. Who's the lineup anyway?”   

“I can forward you the flyer but  just off the top of my head: there's the current head of the English department, Dr. Masawa, she’s gonna be talking about her book, um Dr. Atley is going to present some research, and um, Eric Bittle is going to be there.” 

“Bitty fucking Bittle? The myth, the man, the legend himself? Well fuck my ass and call me chicken we HAVE to go to that. It’s been like FOREVER since I’ve seen Bits. What a fucking beaut. We texted a bit last month but it's been like a year and some since I last got to hang with him. You know he’s got a daughter now?” 

“Oh. Uh, no?” A daughter. Jack’s head spinned. He knew he didn’t have a chance with Eric but he didn’t realize that Eric had gotten married and had a kid. That would’ve been big news right? Was Jack really that out of the loop? He needed to read the news more. 

“Yeah she’s fuckin adorable as fuck. Like, two, three now maybe? He posts pictures of her on Facebook like all the time.”

“That’s uh pretty cool. Listen Shits, I have to go I have a, uh, book to read. I’ll see you this weekend. You can stay at my place. Text you bye.”

“Bye Jac-” Jack hung up the phone before Shitty could fully say goodbye. Why did he feel like there was a pit in his stomach? He didn’t care that Eric Bittle was a married father. So what? It’s not like he had a chance with him anyway. What would he have done? Gone up to him after his speech and say “Hello, I had a crush on you in college, and then we never talked after I graduated. Want to go on a date?” Even if Jack had had the confidence to do so, it was literally impossible now because Eric was a married father, a professional hockey player, celebrity, and an A Level hottie. All Jack had was a doctorate, a wall of books and a million papers to grade. He wasn’t even in the shape he had been in when he was in college, so really, he didn’t have anything to offer. Jack should just shut out all the fantasies of those big brown eyes, and golden hair, and gorgeous toned legs. Gosh what was he doing? 

Jack crossed the room and slumped into his chair behind his desk and picked up a stack of papers sitting on a chair beside the desk. The best way to distract himself was to drown in work. 

Eric Bittle woke up at 6 a.m. Saturday morning to the sound of his daughter crying. He was tired and sore from his game the night before, and a bruise was starting to form on his left thigh due to a nasty check from a Bruins defenceman but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. 

Eric threw off his sheets and rushed into his daughter’s room. Allie was just about two and a half years old, and was in the midst of potty training. Unfortunately for him, Eric was also in the middle of the thralls of hockey season so a lot of the potty training fell on her daycare teachers. Being a single parent was tough. When his cousin Elizabeth had passed away, leaving her and her partner’s daughter to him, he had no idea what to do. He had been five years into his professional hockey career, out, single and totally unprepared for the hurdles of parenthood. 

He pushed open the door to the nursery to find his daughter sitting upright whimpering. “Oh you poor thing. Looks like we’re going to have to get you changed real quick now aren’t we Miss Allie?”

Eric brought her to the changing table and cleaned her and dressed her for the day. It was a little earlier in the morning than he had planned, but he needed to get a move on to get to Samwell in time for his guest lecture. Eric had reached out to his old advisor and she recommended him an education major who would be glad to watch his daughter while he spoke and mingled, not wanting to be away from her for the entirety of his day off. He dressed her in cute bunny socks and a yellow shirt and white pants. She was just about the cutest thing in the world. Soon Eric himself got dressed, packed a diaper bag and headed out. 

On his way Eric’s thoughts winded through his head. It had been quite some time since he’d been back to his alma mater. Samwell had been such an influential and formative place for him. From developing his hockey skills to coming into his own as a gay man. And even though he never did have a long lasting romantic relationship, the friendships he made there pushed him through his life and helped him become who he was. Thinking back to some of the people, he thought about the boys, Lardo, some of the other team captains, and his mind landed on one Jack Zimmermann. 

Eric had always had such a massive crush on Jack, with his boyband bangs, his droopy eyes, jaw that could cut glass and a behind that would give greek statues a run for their money. Eric had first met Jack through Shitty, but then subsequently kept running into him in the dining hall, gym and then one semester for a class. Jack would come to their games and Eric would watch him stack books in the campus library while he pretended to do homework, but always ended up back at the circulation desk, talking about everything and nothing until it closed. They had been friends, and Eric had had the largest crush on earth on the sad-eyed Canadian. But Jack was way out of Eric’s league.  He had been voted Samwell’s Most Beautiful for four years straight, and suitors were constantly trying to ask him out. And then Jack graduated, leaving Bitty yearning for what could have been. According to Shitty, Jack was a professor at Samwell, but the two hadn’t really kept in contact. After the fact, there had been some boys, some boyfriends, even some hookups, but nothing lasting more than a few months at a time. At 30 years old Eric Bittle had never been in a relationship longer than 9 months. 

The sight of Samwell pulled Eric out of his thoughts and Eric shook his head. He had things to do, and he wasn’t going to let ghosts from the past distract him from his job today: to speak about Samwell, sports, and his activism. 

Jack entered the packed auditorium with Shitty in tow. He smiled and waved to a few of his students while Shitty was speaking as if he was a physical manifestation of stream of consciousness. They took their seats in the front row reserved for faculty, staff and alumni. 

“I wonder what he’s gonna talk about. I hope he brings up all the swawesome shit the SMH did. Like that one kegster when-” 

“Wait Shits shhh there he is” Jack cut Shitty off. 

Eric Bittle walked onto the stage with a mic affixed to his shirt. He wore tight fitting navy blue slacks that highlighted just how well the NHL had bulked him up. His top two shirt buttons were unbuttoned on his white and navy blue patterned shirt. The sleeves were rolled up ¾ of the way showing off the definition in his arms. Jack’s throat immediately went dry with his face getting more red as the moments ticked on. 

Fuck. Eric Bittle was even hotter than he remembered and was a million times more attractive in person than he had been in promotional pictures. And his voice, the accent was so cute! Keep it together Zimmermann, that’s a married man. Jack was going to have a hard time sitting through this entire speech. 

  Fuck. Eric walked on stage, scanning the audience and almost immediately his eyes landed on one Jack Zimmermann. He was wearing a tweed jacket, with glasses and his hair was just a touch grey. Time had been very kind to Jack. Eric’s throat became dry as he stumbled his way through his introduction. Shit Jack was in the front row. How was Eric going to concentrate when the hottest man in the world was right in front of him, watching him speak for an hour and a half. 

Clapping. Jack was clapping. He zoned back in after having not actually comprehended a single word for the past 90 minutes. He had just sat and stared at the most gorgeous man he had ever seen and tried not to get a boner. Shitty was speaking to him. Jack needed to respond. 

“Yeah. He does look good in those pants” Shit. Probably not what Shitty asked him. 

“Not what I was talking about, but yeah you know what now that you mention it, mother fucker looks fresh as fuck! I gotta fuckin tell him those pants are doing it for him.” Shitty bolstered himself out of his chair, and up the steps and onto the stage where some faculty were gathering to congratulate him on his speech. Jack followed. 

“Eric Mother fucking Bittle” Shitty bellowed as he walked, Jack close behind, to where Eric stood, now holding a young baby girl on his hip as he spoke with alumni and faculty alike. 

Eric turned to face the two men and smiled. “Shitty B. Knight you best not be swearing around my daughter like that. And Jack, it’s good to see you. It’s been awhile.”

“Fuck yeah it has been. You two were adorable back in the day. You should’ve kept touch more!”  Shitty laughed. 

Jack smiled awkwardly. “Yeah it has been a bit hasn’t it? I’m sorry I never kept touch. Congrats on the hockey, and the Stanley Cup, and the marriage and uh, kid.” 

Eric’s face twisted into a confused half smile. “Marriage? Jack Zimmermann I am not married. I was her godfather. Life happened and now I’m her Daddy.” Eric looked at her, and kissed her forehead softly.

Jack’s brain short circuited. Not...married? “Oh so are you…”

“No I’m not seeing anyone. I’m doing quite fine with her all by myself.” Eric blushed. 

“Okay I see where this is going, I’m gonna back out of this convo..” Shitty etched away from the two men. The latter hardly noticing. 

Jack awkwardly ran a hand through his hair. “In all honesty, Eric, remember all those years ago, when we went to Samwell together. I had the biggest crush on you, but you were so out of league I never did anything about it. I should have, but I was a bit of a coward.”

Eric’s face turned a bright shade of pink as he stammered out a response. “Jack Laurent Zimmermann! You had a crush on me back then? I’ll have you know I pined for you for two whole years thinking you were straight until someone told me YEARS later that you weren’t, and then when I did realize you were an option, I never thought in a million years that you would be in my league anyway. You’re meaning to tell me you had a crush on me that entire time?” 

Jack blushed furiously. “We both had crushes on eachother I guess. I’m sorry I never made a move on you back then. If it means anything, I’d like to uh make one now.”

“Well how about our timing. Gladly Jack. Here, ” Eric pulled out his phone with one hand, careful not to disturb Allie, and handed it over to Jack. “ text me.” 

Jack put his number into the phone and texted himself. “In the meantime, would you like to catch up? It’s been a long time.”

Unbeknownst to the two men, several students stood by in shock, watching their professor flirt with and score a date with a literal celebrity. Two in the front high fived. “Get it Dr. Zimmermann!”

[launaej]

I realize I never really introduced myself on this tumblr.

I like to go by Ren. She/her/they. I’m 23, turning 24 in Feb. & I’ve decided to start a fresh tumblr. My old one I’ve had since like 2011 & I feel like it had posts & phases of so many closed chapters in my life that I decided to start a new one. So I’ve been on tumblr for a long while. It’s honestly wild to think about my time on this social media platform. Started using it when I was a wee lil freshman in high school with goals of becoming a drum major for my high school marching band & becoming a music teacher. I’d come home afterschool, drink mi cafesito with my mom, take a nap, finish my homework, then spend the rest of my time on tumblr or watching youtube. I’d have long school days, waking up at 5am, to really get ready and sneak some tumblr before school, then be at the bus stop by 6:15 and get the day started. Like holy crap, what a different change of pace life is now. Now I’m 23 & still find this website to be a humble lil sanctuary to unwind & draw inspiration from. Crazy to think I’m now the same age that Lana del Rey was when she was posting Video Games on tumblr back in 2011. What is time??? 

 Tumblr has seen me through my best times, like finally reaching to be drum major, and some of the worst, like finding out financial aid changed its rules and suddenly you can’t finish school. I have yet to still reach the finish line with my academic goals. Still have yet to get that piece of paper, but I know it’s in the horizon. 

For now, I hope to soon make Youtube content on some of the things I've been learning this quarantine. My goal is by the end of this year to be a full on ~interwebs~ person & hopefully make a little money doing it. After 2 years of trying to save up money working a call center job & STILL not being able to save money to finish school (I wasn't trying to take out loans) and then losing my savings in this pandemic, I figure you know what, if people are out here making money doing what they love, maybe I can too. The goal for me is to still get my Bachelor's in Music Education but I'm not trying to break myself over it. Not that I need a degree for music, but my parents never finished college & I really want that degree for me & for us. I was supposed to walk across the stage spring of 2019, but financial aid decided to add some new rules at my community college where if you had over 24 elective credits, they wouldn't pay for anymore electives . At that point, I had 36 elective credits & basically that rule fucked over a lot of art students who were close to finishing. ANYWHO, at the time (Fall 2017) I said no problem, I'll work extra hours at work, save money & take 1 class at a time. & I did. Spring 2018, I was able to take 2 classes. Fall 2018 & Spring 2019 I didn’t take classes but I picked up a LOT of extra hours to save money. Then I got into a car accident on July 4, 2019, which ate up my school savings. But whatever, I kept going. Saved up again & then the pandemic happens & I had to leave my job in April after confirmed cases in the call center & lack of enforcing safety measures. Loved the job, but I didn’t feel safe. Fast forward now to January 2021, my savings are eaten up again. Not only that there was a whole thing where the college I wanted to transfer to was shutting down its college of education, and honestly at that point I laughed out loud when I read the article. Feels like my simple little goal of getting a degree to be a music teacher keeps running away from me. I graduated high school 2015, like this was supposed to be an easy journey. But yet here I am, in 2021, somehow without the degree & you know, I used to curse a lot at the events that lead me to not finish my goal; just so many factors out of my control. But after 2020 & seeing a lot of close friends start their teaching careers in this mess, I can’t look back at those setbacks with the same sourness I had before. I am now more of a believer in divine intervention. I'm still going to answer the same call in life, I just have to take a different path. A path I hadn’t planned for at all, but you know, we out here, winging it. 

So for now, I’m unemployed. BUT I’ve been learning a shit ton on an assortment of various topics. I don’t think I could have made some serious headway on some of these topics if it were’t for 2020. At this point, this is how I see things. I could spend my time trying to look for a job, & work at a place I couldn’t care less for + isn’t helping me grow & where i risk my life over something I don’t love. OR, I can simply grow & follow what I love & figure out the rest as it may. If it’s one thing I’ve learned, is that just as things can fall apart, they can fall into place. I’ve had many MANY moments where I’ve found solutions just in time. After 2020, I am definitely more of a believer in ‘Rejection is God’s protection.’ & somehow, after this crazy year, I’m here. I have to make it count, & I owe myself my dreams.

Soo I’m going to posting random things I find on some learning I’m doing. Even though I don’t have the money to go to school, doesn’t mean I still can’t learn my lil heart out. Topics I’m currently researching / learning more on that you’ll probably see posts about:

Music Theory {I'm trying to learn more about atonal / microtonal music / tonnetz / harry partch / erv wilson / abstract music notation systems / ancient music theory}

Puerto Rico {trying to learn more history & more about my lineage / trying to learn about how my family's history in Aibonito y Corozal / trying to dig deeper into the history of Sephardic Jews on the island & the influence of Jewish music & Ladino music on Jibaro music / taino mythology & history / santeria / 21 divisiones / Brujeria}

Physics of Sound / Sound Architecture / {kepler / acoustics / resonance / harmonic oscillations}

History of Latin America & Spanish Conquistadors / Black History in South America & the Caribbean / Antilles History {SO much history I'm still learning that I never learned in A.P. U. S. History or A. P. Euro. in 2020 I learned about how many places in FL are named after some really bad conquistadors i.e. Hernando de Soto who was such a bad dude !! so much to still learn}

Astrology / Tarot {being raised with watching Walter Mercado in the background, astrology has been a part of life since I was really little. But I've been heavily studying astrology since 2016 & tarot since 2018.}

Self-sufficency {farming / solar punk / fermenting foods} 

Feel free to ask me any questions about music education, music theory, college experience, etc. I also have played clarinet for the past 12+ years & have played alto sax, euphonium & piano for a bit. Know about that band geek/drum major life. Big DCI fan. Recently borrowed my dad's cuatro to start learning how to play some Puerto Rican classics.  También hablo español. Aunque nací en Nueva Orleans, crecí en Aibonito y Corozal y más tarde en Florida. Ahora, estoy en FL, pero toda mi familia es de la isla. Si eres puertorriqueño o de FL, ¡no tengas miedo de decir qué pasa! Social medias @launaej

Hope to have some videos & content up soon! Feel free to send me suggestions! Not used to being a person on the internet. But here we go! :)

[usieldaca]

DACA: Here To Stay?

It was a warm and cloudy morning on September 5, 2017. As I woke up, all the news outlets were flooded with breaking news. DACA, or Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals was rescinded by President Donald Trump. Hundreds of thousands of DACA Recipients also known as “Dreamers,” were left with confusion, uncertainty and their legal status left in limbo. As a DACA recipient myself, little did I know that this decision would be met with pushback and legal challenges would proceed. A roller coaster of emotions were set in motion for dreamers. 

DACA is a program that protects undocumented youth from deportation. This program was created by an executive order mandated by President Barack Obama on June 15, 2012. DACA recipients were brought to America at a young age and this country is the only place they know as their home. DACA enables immigrant youth to come out of the shadows, go to college and work legally. Recipients undergo background checks and other procedures by the USCIS to ensure eligibility. In order to maintain DACA status renewals are required every two years.

In January 2018 an order by U.S. District Judge William Alsup gave hope to DACA recipients as he ordered for DACA renewals to be put back in place. Nearly 690,000 dreamers, according to the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services, were safeguarded from deportation. However, The Trump Administration didn’t concede defeat. The battle to terminate DACA ensued. 

On June 18, The Supreme Court ruled to reinstate DACA as it was a violation of law to end it. According to an article titled “News Tip: Scotus’ DACA Decision Major Win For Young Immigrants, Experts Say” in the Duke Today, “efforts to end it had been arbitrary and capricious. The Trump administration’s error, the court ruled, was procedurally unsound, a kind of power grab that violated institutional norms and administrative culture by not addressing the policy consequences of changing DACA.” It was a huge victory for DACA recipients, immigrant families and everyone that supports the program. 

According to an article titled “Are DACA Students Still Safe to Stay?” dated April 25, 2017 in the New England Journal of Higher Education, from 2012 to 2016 the DACA program received approximately a million initial applications nationwide. Only 752,154 were successfully approved. 

In Nevada, according to the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services, there are 12,100 recipients as of March 31, 2020. Of those, there are 9,700 in the Las Vegas Valley. 

Some of those recipients go to school at University of Nevada, Las Vegas.

UNLV Student Juan Pablo Plascencia,  recalled that day, “Well when President Trump rescinded DACA, I didn’t get scared because I knew there was a long, legal battle going on. There are amazing people in our community who fight for us specifically Senator Dick Durbin who I think is a great man. There are a lot of amazing lawyers that see us for who we are. We’re human beings and not just a pawn to be played with when politics come around.” 

Plascencia doesn’t shy away from reality, “My mentality is pretty simple on this. I know my parents broke the law to bring me here. I was a child when I was brought here. I have no idea what happened. One day I was in Mexico. The next day I’m here in Las Vegas. It’s like time travel. That’s the way I explain it to people when they ask me but the thing is that my parents had to do something that even though it wasn’t legal, morally it makes sense.” 

Many DACA recipients grew up unaware that they were undocumented. The harsh reality of who they are came at a young age. Many wanted to start employment or travel outside of the country. 

Leslie Vazquez, University of Washington Tacoma student with DACA status recalled, “I first realized I was undocumented when I was in middle school. I actually wanted to travel to Mexico and my mom had to have a conversation with me about me not being able to leave the country.” 

Growing up unsure of what the future has in store is terrifying. President Trump’s antics fueled fear and unpredictability. 

“I felt like I couldn’t breathe and enjoy living in America. I could empathize with jewish people. I understood how they felt, be extra careful. Don’t say anything, don’t post anything. That might be used against you.” Plascencia said. “It was hard. As a history teacher, one of the things I always tell my students is to love your country. Love your country enough for when you see an issue, you want to go and fix it. I think President Trump is a hypocrite. He tells us that he’s going to treat DACA with kindness and a lot of heart. It’s a good thing for the DACA kids. He then puts his foot in our butt and files to remove DACA. Loses the court case and then he states he will file the proper paperwork to get this over. I’m sorry sir, am I just a pawn to you? Is my humanity not real? Are my efforts not good enough for you?”

Joe Biden became the U.S. President-elect earlier in November. Biden has been vocal about his support on DACA. On November 2, 2020, Biden tweeted, “Dreamers are Americans -- And it’s time we make it official.” 

Vazquez said, “I am excited to know that Biden has won the presidency and I remain hopeful that he will be able to help us ‘Dreamers.’ It's easier to believe Biden when he says he will help us gain citizenship because we’ve had four years of someone who has consistently put us down. However, I am not going to get my hopes up until action is done.”  

Although hope is not lost, it has dissipated for many DACA recipients.

“I saw who he appointed for his cabinet. He appointed the same woman that approved for family separation at the border under the Obama Administration. I just hope it’s not the same thing. Which it’s looking like it might be.” Plascencia said. “Personally, I have hope but at the same time I’m not holding my breath anymore. I’m not going to wait to live my life. I’ll do the best that I can under the system that I’m in. At the end of the day, I’m not going to beg for scraps. I’m a productive member of this society. I don’t see immigration being on top of Biden’s list. Right now we are in a pandemic and after the pandemic it’ll be the economy and after the economy we have another two year election.” 

Furthermore, Plascencia explains his thoughts on DACA, “I did what I was asked to do, I signed up for DACA. I have done everything right, I’ve never broken the law but what I want is for politicians to make this right. We passed the test. DACA is a smashing success. There are 95 percent of us that are excelling in the program. Five percent have been sent back. That’s good, this is an audition. We have to prove to the American people but at the same time I’m not begging for scraps. I don’t beg for scraps but at the same time it has to be done in a way that makes sense. DACA to me makes perfect sense. You put us young people to audition. What was the audition? Exactly what it says on the applications. I think instead of democrats and republicans promising the world to us, I’d rather see some action. I need to see some movement.”  

However, those that oppose the DACA program state that illegal immigration is being encouraged through its’ policies. According to an article titled, “Are DACA and The Dream Act Good For America?” in the Britannica ProCon, Congressman Bob Goodlatte (R-VA) said that DACA “encouraged more illegal immigration and contributed to the surge of unaccompanied minors and families seeking to enter the U.S. illegally.” In the same article, according to Karl Eschbach, PhD, “DACA will increase the undocumented population because those who don’t qualify for DACA will stay in the hopes of qualifying eventually, and more people will immigrate assuming coverage by DACA or a similar program.”

In addition, according to an article titled, “It’s Time to End DACA -- It’s Unconstitutional Unless Approved by Congress” in the Heritage, “Providing amnesty and potential citizenship to DACA recipients and other illegal immigrants before we have a secure border will only encourage even more illegal immigration, just as the 1986 amnesty in the Immigration Reform and Control Act did. That law provided citizenship to almost 3 million illegal immigrants and was supposed to solve the problem of illegal immigration. Yet within 10 years, there were another almost 6 million illegal immigrants in the U.S.

The federal government should be concentrating on enhancing immigration enforcement and border security to stem the flow of illegal immigrants into the country and reduce the number of them already in the interior of the U.S.”

As DACA continues to hang in the balance politically, recipients continue setting goals for their futures optimistically. 

“I would love to graduate with a PHd in Neurological Psychology,” Plascencia said. “I would love to go to Medical School to practice Psychology. That’s something I believe I would be really good at. Again I’m not hoping for it, I’m just waiting to make my moves. When my parents came to America they had ten dollars in their pockets. Now, I’m about to purchase my own house, I have my own car.”

Additionally Plascencia added that he is working on his third degree at UNLV. He will be graduating with his Masters in Curriculum/Instruction in Secondary Social Studies. He is a social studies and history teacher at the Las Vegas Academy Performing Arts. 

Plascencia reflects, “Education is the most powerful and important thing. I think that as a person I want to be more educated. I would love to become a citizen because I do want to vote. As a teacher it’s ironic I can’t vote but I teach my students how to.”

Vazquez is currently in the last quarter of obtaining her Bachelor’s degree in accounting at the Milgard School of Business. Vazquez and her parents own their own Mexican restaurant which has been open to the public for three years. “I hope that I will remain in the country for years to come. My ultimate dream is to get my CPA degree to help our community.”

As the uncertainty is still not over, recipients contemplate their decisions with valor. 

“As a person who has DACA, I’m pretty much at the end of my road. I could go teach at the University in Canada, I could teach in a University in England, I could go live in Spain, Germany. But instead I’m choosing to stay because this is the only country that I know about,” Plascencia said. 

[iandeleonwrites]

Ian’s Case: A Personal Statement for Grad School Admission

Personal Statement, Ian Deleón

“He felt something strike his chest, and that his body was being thrown swiftly through the air, on and on, immeasurably far and fast, while his limbs were gently relaxed.”

It was more than a decade ago when I first read those words. Written by the American author Willa Cather, Paul’s Case: A Study in Temperament has always felt to me like an intimate account of my own life penned by a woman one hundred years in the past. 

That is a feeling which makes me proud; that my personal whims, fears, and desires, could find their echo long ago in a story about a young man and his pursuit of a meaningful life. Because of it, I felt a pleasing sense of historicity at a time when I was struggling so much with my own. 

I grew up in Miami Beach. Literally not more than a block away from water for most of my life. My father had emigrated from Cuba with his family in 1980. My mother had come on a work visa from Brazil a few years later. They met on the beach, had an affair, and I came into the world in May of 1987. 

My life was marked with in betweenness from the very beginning. My parents’ relationship did not last long, so I grew up traveling between houses. I had two families. I was American, but I was also Cuban and Brazilian. I even have a Brazilian passport. I spoke three languages fluently, but I couldn’t dance salsa or samba. I felt at home with the working class immigrants and people of color in my neighborhoods, but I often had to work hard to prove I wasn’t just some gringo with a knack for foreign tongues.  

[A quick note on Paul’s Case––If it happens that the reader is not familiar with the short story, let me briefly summarize it here:  A disenchanted youth in turn of the century Pittsburgh feels increasingly alienated from his schoolmates, his teachers and his family. His only comfort is his position as an usher at Carnegie Hall, where he loses himself in the glamour of the art life. Having no drive or desire to become an artist, however, the dandy Paul makes a spur of the moment criminal decision and elopes to New York City. There, he is able to live out his fantasies in a financial masquerade for about a week’s time, until the authorities back home finger him for monetary theft. Learning that his father is en route to the city to collect him, Paul travels to the countryside and flings himself in front of a speeding train, musing about the elegant brevity of winter flowers.]

When I first encountered Cather’s short story I was blown away by the parallels I saw between my own life and Paul’s. In 2005, fresh out of high school, I was living mostly with my father as my mother had relocated to faraway West Palm Beach. I was an usher at the local concert hall, a job I cherished enough to volunteer my time for free. I became entranced by the world of classical music, opera, theater, and spectacle––often showing up for work early and roaming the performance spaces, probing high and low like some kind of millenial phantom. 

In school, however, I had no direction, no plan. I had good enough grades, but no real motivation, and worst of all, I thought, no discernible talent. I probably resented my father for not being cultured enough to teach me about music, theater, and the arts. No one in my family had ever even been to a museum, or sat before a chamber orchestra. And it didn’t seem to matter to them either, they could somehow live blissfully without it. 

Well I couldn’t. I began to mimic the fervor with which Paul immersed himself in that world, while also exhibiting the same panic at the thought of not being able to sustain my treasured experiences without a marketable contribution to them. But here is where Paul and I take divergent paths. 

I was attending the Miami Dade Honors College, breezing my way towards an associate’s degree. I took classes in Oceanography, Sociology, Creative Writing, Acting and African Drumming. I was experimenting and falling in love with everything. 

But it was my Creative Writing professor, Michael Hettich, who really encouraged the development of my nascent writing talent. Up until that point my ideas only found their expression through class assignments, particularly book reports and essays on historical events. My sister had always felt I had a way with words, but I just attributed this to growing up in a multicultural environment amongst a diversity of native languages.  

As a result of that encouragement I began to write poetry, little songs and treatments for film ideas based on the short stories we were talking about in class. Somehow, thanks to those lines of poetry and a few amateur photographic self portraits, I was admitted to the Massachusetts College of Art & Design for my BFA program. 

There, I attended classes in Printmaking, Paper Making, Performance Art, Video Editing, and Glass Blowing. I was immersed in culture, attending lectures and workshops, adding new words to my vocabulary: “New Media” and “gestalt”. I saw my first snowfall. I had the dubious honor of appearing at once not Hispanic and yet different enough. I was overwhelmed. I felt increasingly disenchanted and out of place in New England, yet my work flourished and grew stronger. 

It was during this time that I developed a passion for live performance and engagement with an audience. I also worked with multi-channel video and sculptural installations. Always, I commented on my family history, grappling with it, the emigrations and immigrations. I even returned to those early short stories from Miami Dade, one time doing an interpretive movement piece based on The Yellow Wallpaper. Most often I talked about my father. He was even in a few of my projects. He was a good sport, though we still had the occasional heated political disagreement. We never held any grudges, and made up again rather quickly. It would always be that way, intense periods of warming and cooling. A tropical temperament, I suppose. 

I continued to take film-related classes in Boston, but my interests gradually became highly abstracted, subtle, and decidedly avant-garde. I had no desire to work in a coherently narrative medium. This would eventually change, but for now, I let my ambitions and aspirations take me where they would. 

I returned home to Miami for a spell after graduation. I traveled the world for five months after that. I moved back to Boston for another couple of years, because it was comfortable I suppose, though I was fed up with the weather. 

Finally, I wound up in NYC. Classic story: I followed a charming young woman, another performance artist as luck would have it, a writer too, and a bit of an outsider. We were quickly engaged and on the first anniversary of our meet cute we were married on a gorgeous piece of land in upstate new york, owned by an older performance-loving couple from the city. Piece of land doesn’t quite do it justice, we’re talking massive tracts, hidden acres of forest, sudden lakes, fertile fields, and precocious wildlife. As they say in the movies, it really is all about location, location, location. 

Nearly all of our significant personal and professional achievements in the subsequent years have centered around this bucolic homestead. After meeting, courting, researching and eventually getting married there, we soon decided we would stage our most ambitious project to date in this magical space––we would shoot...a movie.

We hit upon the curious story of an eighteenth century woman in England called Mary Toft. Dear Mary became famous for a months-long ruse that involved her supposed birthing of rabbits, and sometimes cats. The small town hoax ballooned into a national controversy when it was eventually exposed by some of the king’s physicians. My wife and I were completely enthralled by this story and its contemporary implications. Was Mary wholly complicit in the mischievous acts, or was she herself a sort of duped victim...of systematic abuse at the hands of her family, her husband, her country? 

We soon found a way to adapt and give this tale a modern twist that recast Mary as a woman of color alone in the woods navigating a host of creepy men, a miscarriage, and a supernatural rabbit. 

Over the course of nine months, our idea gestated and began taking the form of a short film screenplay. This was something neither of us had done or been adequately trained to do before. But we knew we wanted it to be special, it was our passion project. We knew we didn’t want it to look amateurish––we were too old for that. So we took out a loan, hired an amazing camera crew, and in three consecutive days in the summer of 2017 we filmed our story, Velvet Cry. It was the most difficult thing either of us had undertaken...including planning our nuptial ceremony around our difficult families. 

It was an incredible experience––intoxicating––also quite maddening and stressful. But it was all worth it. Because of our work schedules, it took us another year to finish post production on the film, but throughout that process, I knew I had found my calling. I would be a writer, and I would be a Director. 

Perhaps I had been too afraid to dream the big dream before. Perhaps I had lacked the confidence, or simply, the life experience to tackle the complexity of human emotions, narratives, and interactions––but no longer. This is what I wanted to do and I had to find a way to get better at doing it. 

In the intervening months, I have set myself on a course to develop my writing abilities as quickly as I could in anticipation of this application process. I know I have some latent talent, but it has been a long time since I’ve been in an academic setting, and in any case, I have never really attempted to craft drama on this scale before. 

I’ve read many books, listened to countless interviews, attended online classes, and most importantly, written my heart out since relocating down the coast to the small college town of Gainesville in Central Florida with my wife in June of 2018. It was through a trip to her alma mater of Hollins University that we learned about the co-ed graduate program in screenwriting a few months ago. After all the debt I accrued in New England, I didn’t think I would ever go back to college, though I greatly enjoyed the experience. But what we learned about the program filled me with confidence and a desire to share in the wonderful legacy of this school that my wife is always gushing about. 

Our Skype conversation with Tim Albaugh proved to be the deciding factor. I knew instantly that I wanted to be a part of anything that he was involved with, and I had the feeling that my ideas would truly be nurtured and harnessed into a craft––something tangible I could be proud of and use to propel my career. 

I continue to mine my childhood and adolescence in Miami for critical stories and characters, situations that shed light on my own personal experience of life. I’ve found myself coming back to Paul’s Case. No longer caught up in the character’s stagnant, brooding longings for a grander life, I’m now able to revisit the story, appreciating the young man’s anxieties while evaluating how it all went so fatally wrong for Paul. There was no reason to despair, no cause for lost hope. I would take the necessary steps to become the artist I already know myself to be. The screenplay I am submitting as my writing sample is a new adaptation of this story, making Paul my own, and giving him a little bit of that South Florida flavor. 

I will close by reiterating how I have visited Hollins, and heard many a positive review from the powerful women I know who have attended college there. As a graduate student, I know Hollins can help me to become a screenwriter, to become a filmmaker. This is the only graduate program to which I am applying––I have a very good feeling about all this.

I want to be a Hollins girl.