Random Thoughts: Fall Edition

As summer leaves and autumn comes in, the noticeable changes are immediate.  Cooler days have arrived a lot earlier than usual, and I spied a lot of people wearing pea-coats, Ugg boots, and other fall-weather clothing.  There are a few people who refuses to  believe that summer is over and are out wearing flip-flops and tank tops. I'm going to get my warm clothes out of moth balls, wash out the scent, and wear them proudly.  Then again, as a native Chicagoan who grew up in this lovely city, the weather can turn in a second if one's not prepared. Have a lovely fall, everyone!

What a Teacher Instilled in Me

Growing up in Chicago, I went through the education provided by the Chicago Public Schools (CPS) system.  It has its flaws, and good points as well.  One of the things that sticks out some many years later was grammar lessons in the fifth grade. My teacher, Mrs. Falbe, drilled lessons into us on a daily basis.  At one point of my elementary school career, I recited prepositional phrases, adverbs, and adjectives in my sleep.  I hated doing those exercises, even though I wanted to be a writer when I grew up and became an adult.  I didn't know it then; the idea was to write well for any career in life, where written communication is very important.

Several years later, I decided to major in journalism, taking with me what a CPS taught me those years earlier.  She was a tough lady; she had a reason to be hard on all of us students, even me who hated doing homework and only did enough to avoid flunking the fifth grade.  My grammar still needs some work.  I have a great instructor at Truman College who only wants the best from me, just like Mrs. Falbe did.

CPS teachers work very hard, and aren't appreciated by the students, or the Board of Education.  Layoffs are occurring, unsafe conditions in the schools are up, and all the teachers are asking for is a safe learning environment, pay raises, and respect.  I didn't like my CPS teachers then, but as I reflect on my years in the system, I can honestly say that I wish I had paid more attention and daydreamed less.

I have to find those notebooks from the fifth grade and give myself a refresher course.

Teachers picketing outside of Kellman Community Academy on Sep. 10, 2012.

 

 

Picture taken by Sharon Pearson

Space Cadet

For as long as I can remember, I've stared into the night sky for about an hour whenever I was awarded free time.  My sisters would tease me because I would watch shows on space exploration and all things Earth-related.  At one point, my big sister would  say to me, "Sharon, are you looking for you brain in the stars again?" I would tell her, "No. My brain's in my head. I'm looking for your brain."  As usual, she would throw a stuffed animal at me. When she left, I continued to stare into space and daydream away until I went to sleep.

Nicolaus Copernicus (1473-1543) guarding the entrance to the planetarium.
Picture taken by Sharon Pearson.

The opportunity came to me in day camp when my class took a field trip to one of my favorite places in Chicago: the Adler Planetarium.  My favorite thing to do there was to watch the sky show in the historic Sky Theater, where my fellow campers and I were treated to a show about the night sky. I received a star chart and a book on what's in space from the trip. 

Several years later, my love for the night sky returned when some of my coworkers and I began tracking the planet Mars, because it was going into retrograde motion. We studies the works of Ptolemy, Copernicus, and Kepler to gain an understanding of their reports on exploring the sky, even driving out into the middle of nowhere in Michigan to get a clear view of the night sky.  We've done it on several occasions, even tracking other planets that were visible to the naked eye at night: Venus, Saturn, and Jupiter. Mercury's a bit tough, since it's really close to the Sun. 

Jim Lovell, a Chicago native and one of the astronauts on Apollo 8 and Apollo 13.
Picture taken by Sharon Pearson.

In recent months, I revisited the Adler Planetarium. This time, I didn't get to see any of the shows on my free pass I checked out from the public library.  I lived in the Moon exhibit and the exhibit where all of the planets were located.  I saw a replica of the Saturn V rocket, that brought back memories of me living in Houston and visiting the Johnson Space Center.  While looking at the Mars, I wished that colonization was a reality on the Red Planet.  I took a lot of pictures and wrote out a bunch of notes that helped me pass Astronomy last semester. 

The next time I decide to visit the Adler Planetarium, I'm going to get lost in the sky shows, and daydream again.  NASA has some videos and photos that are interesting. I'll watch some of those until I can return to my favorite place on another day.


The author holding a replica of the Saturn V rocket. The real thing is in Houston.
Picture taken by Sharon Pearson.



 

The Perfectly Imperfect Writer, Part One

I am a flawed writer.

As a wannabe writer, I need to really step up to the plate in my classwork/homework.  To me, that means listening with my journalist ears to what my instructor has to say about the work I turn in, utilizing the resources at school to guide me in my writing, and mentor the beginning writers in class as well. 

This semester, I cannot afford to make any mistakes on my schoolwork. I want to pass this class with an A or a B, and not just “get by” with a C. I don’t want to settle for a C, anymore. 

The exact same thing goes for my news reporting at the paper.  I cannot be relaxed and lollygag on a story my editor-in-chief assigns me.  I’ll admit it; my researching and interviewing skills are not the greatest. I would l to love to sharpen them to the point where I’m asking the types of questions Barbara Walters gets to ask the people she’s interviewing.  I want to prove to potential editors that I can write and I do know subject-verb-object agreement. 

I’m not perfect; I’m also not a saint. Personally, I don’t know of any writer, past or present that has made mistakes in their careers. I’m a wannabe writer that will make my dream of becoming a journalist a reality.  Hopefully, I don’t go the way of Jayson Blair, Eric Glass, and Fareed Zakaria. I can learn from their mistakes and make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to me.

I am a flawed writer that needs some assistance with honing in my basic reporting skills and enhancing what I learn in class.

The Royals and the Press

Yesterday, as I watched Good Morning America on the local ABC affiliate, a report came out about Prince Harry's wild partying in Las Vegas.  According to the morning show reporters, London's Daily Mirror leaked photos of the prince as he was dancing around naked in his hotel room.   Despite the request of the Royal Family to not release the pictures, the tabloid did it anyway, claiming freedom of the press. When did it become alright to show embarrassing and incriminating photos of the "Spare to the Heir" after being told to respect his privacy?

I learned in my News Reporting and Writing class about muckraking, and what the Daily Mirror has done would constitute as muckraking.  I bet the girl that sold those photos got a huge sum of money, and, according to the tabloid, plans on telling all for $1 million or 630,000 pounds.   Most of the newspapers and magazines there had adhered to the wishes of the Queen and Prince Charles to leave Harry alone.

What the young man has done in his room was his business, not the world's business. Just because his Great-Aunt Margaret, Uncle Andy, ex-Aunt Sarah and even his mother Diana has been dragged through the mud by the tabloids, it doesn't mean it's officially open season on his antics.  Sadly, Diana died at the hands of the paparazzo, using her as a case study on what happen when the paparazzo goes too far.  Can Harry turn it all around and keep his nose clean, like his brother and sister-in-law, or does he fall prey to the paps?

Death of the Girl That Said Yes All of the Time

I unplugged myself from all things Internet for a few days to work on myself.  I wanted to reevaluate all of my relationships I have with people, and I began to notice a  pattern within myself that I didn't like. I said 'yes' to a lot of things I should've said 'no' to on several occasions, like birthday parties, get-together events, and more stuff that left a sour taste in my mouth. I invited people to things and got excuse after excuse after excuse as to why they didn't want to go: it's sounds boring/it's raining/I just want to be lazy/it's too far... the list goes on and on. It took an exercise during a meeting I was at on Wednesday to realize that I haven't said 'no' enough. 

I got an invitation to a birthday party from a friend of mine yesterday via Facebook. I wanted to put my new outlook into practice and hit the "Not Going" button.  I didn't feel bad about doing so. When she asks, I'm just going to give her an honest answer. I've given her the benefit of the doubt all of the time, and I'm tired of it.  I didn't want to say 'yes' to going out to see her when she's said implicitly and explicitly that she has no intentions on traveling within the city on public transit to hang out with me. I'm going to busy myself with schoolwork, honor society work, newspaper, car/apartment hunting, and filling out applications to several universities. She can catch me when I'm done with school, if she feels like not being lazy.

The word 'no' is going to be my new favorite word. I don't want to be a doormat anymore, or be the one that says 'yes' to everything and getting 'nos' from everyone.  My time is valuable and none of it can be wasted on petty stuff. I will say 'yes' from time to time, depending on what it is and how far in advance are certain events. For the most part, the girl that always said yes ceased to exist as of yesterday. School starts on Monday and work begins on Tuesday. Time to prepare for classes!

Birthday Bust

My thirtieth birthday came and went, along with a cancellation for Girls’ Night. I won’t go into the details of what happened, but I wish the woman a lot of luck in finding gainful employment. Several people did send me Facebook messages saying happy birthday to me, that made me smile.

Last year, I wrote a little piece on my twenty-ninth birthday that went through in some detail about the perils of being a summertime baby and not being able to celebrate with my classmates.  I also got a huge surprise from a then-boyfriend who asked me for the one thing I didn’t want to do on my birthday.  He’s no longer in my life, that’s another blog entry for another day.

I wanted to celebrate big at one point; I knew I wasn’t going to be employed at the time of celebration, so I just gave up on the idea. Maybe I should give up altogether in wanting a celebration for any more of my birthdays to come. I definitely didn’t want to celebrate by myself, either.  Oh, the joys of being broke and underemployed at a time when it really counts.  

Next year, I will have my food, birthday cake, and alcohol, even if it's by myself. It'll be my party with the one person that cares about me the most. There will be pictures to document the joyous occasion.