I’m home again on yet another Friday night. There MUST be a positive correlation between increase in age and time spent at home on the weekends. Factors such as kids and spouses seem to be outliers. Funny. I just got a text from my slightly younger friends asking me to join them down the street for a few. Not going to happen. Fridays are always my days to stay late at work and prepare for the upcoming week, but today proved even harder. We had an impressive Veteran’s Day celebration at work. We had over 50 honored guests, family members, and others present at our hour-long school assembly. Towards the end, one of our teachers played “Taps.” My grandfather received military honors at his burial. While my sleeve my sleeve turned into my kleenex, I noticed a student-made poster on the wall. “Thank you for killing bad people,” it read. Seriously. Killing is nothing to celebrate, or applaud. The celebrations after Bin Laden’s death made me just as sick as the Gaddafi videos, which I witnessed up at my grandparents’ cabin. Nani, who doesn’t always see ojo a ojo with me, was the first to voice her disgust at the’ laudation.’ No death can be synonymous with jubilance.
So back to my Friday night. I started out by watching the brainless “Say Yes To the Dress…” not because I ever want to spend an obnoxious amount of money on a wedding, but because of the spectacle–the bad car accident that I can’t tear my eyes from. But then I switched to a documentary in which women from Zambia not only are able to tell their stories, but also learn how t use the equipment and become the documentarians themselves. This inspires me. Not that I need to do the same thing, but that I need to do something bigger with my life than teach in public schools. I crave more of a challenge, a challenge that Spain did not offer.
I love being back, but I’m already looking towards the future.