INFP
Introverted.
Intuitive.
Feeling.
Perceiving.
So, i've got to find a job that fits in with all of that. The teaching has not been working well for me. This is probably because it isn't real teaching, but substitute teaching. Which, everybody knows, is the most bastardly job in existence. (And yes, i've been a janitor; first job out of college, in fact: go Liberal Arts degree!)
There were a few moments which seemed to transcend:
I was able to have some pretty good class discussion about one of Vonnegut's short stories. The story was titled, "Harrison Bergeron," or something similar. I encourage checking that one out -- and reading Vonnegut in general. He's one of my favorites. Anyway, the story got some of the kids thinking about government and what its role is -- and perhaps what its role should be. And I think these things are good things for anybody anywhere to consider. Also, it lent itself to a sequay (sp?) into the differences between Communism in theory vs. in practice, Fascism, totalitarianism, etc. . . But shit, this was a middle school. These kids were 13-14 years old -- and most of it didn't connect. And I didn't know how to make it connect, or to bring it to an understandable level.
And there were the times with the special ed kids. Always good times. Probably the times when i learned the most.
The janitor stuff wasn't even terrible. Sometimes strangely interesting. To work in these offices after all of the office workers had gone home. To see the things that they would hang on their walls: those materials which they chose the bring into their workplace -- to represent their lives at home, the things they treasured, the things they wanted to think about, the places they wanted to be instead of where they were. For one man it was arches national park. Pictures of the park all over his office. Moab signs and relics. Canyonlands screensavers on his computer. With others' it might be pictures of family, friends, cars, rockets, trains, whatever. . . But it was interesting to see inside these people, to see what they would do to make themselves feel at home. . . And a perk that i never imagined came along with being a janitor.
And the thoughts! The thoughts about the job itself -- the reasons behind the existence of the job: why is there such a job? why do janitors exist? And it is simple: to clean up other people's shit. But I found the concept fascinating. (And it lis likewise for the garbage-man job (or whatever the poly-correct way of saying it is) and any other job that exists simply to clean up other people's shit). Fascinating because it shed this light into the awful extent to which our society -- the people of our society -- refuses to take responsibility for their own actions: always relying on somebody else to clean our messes up: it is pathetic, really.
And the messes that we make. Of everything! So, I had this thought: what if everybody were to begin taking responsibility for their own messes: no more sweeping under the rug, no more dependence on the noble janitor, the courageous garbage-man. (And of course it is somehow noble and courageous -- in India these were the jobs of the untouchable caste, the jobs that only the most despised and rejected members of society would do. Nobody else would do them. And now, in the States, the despised and rejected, the Native Americans, have sold out to the highest bidder to store nuclear waste on their soveriegn land -- just upwind of Salt Lake City. . . Again, evasion of responsibility, cleanup crew of untoucables. . .) Well, i know it is hard to follow this. As is the way I tend to write. But the general idea is this:
Our entire society has somehow developed the mentality that they are not responsible for their own actions. And look at the disasterous consequences.
It pisses me off.
Hi Ho.
Intuitive.
Feeling.
Perceiving.
So, i've got to find a job that fits in with all of that. The teaching has not been working well for me. This is probably because it isn't real teaching, but substitute teaching. Which, everybody knows, is the most bastardly job in existence. (And yes, i've been a janitor; first job out of college, in fact: go Liberal Arts degree!)
There were a few moments which seemed to transcend:
I was able to have some pretty good class discussion about one of Vonnegut's short stories. The story was titled, "Harrison Bergeron," or something similar. I encourage checking that one out -- and reading Vonnegut in general. He's one of my favorites. Anyway, the story got some of the kids thinking about government and what its role is -- and perhaps what its role should be. And I think these things are good things for anybody anywhere to consider. Also, it lent itself to a sequay (sp?) into the differences between Communism in theory vs. in practice, Fascism, totalitarianism, etc. . . But shit, this was a middle school. These kids were 13-14 years old -- and most of it didn't connect. And I didn't know how to make it connect, or to bring it to an understandable level.
And there were the times with the special ed kids. Always good times. Probably the times when i learned the most.
The janitor stuff wasn't even terrible. Sometimes strangely interesting. To work in these offices after all of the office workers had gone home. To see the things that they would hang on their walls: those materials which they chose the bring into their workplace -- to represent their lives at home, the things they treasured, the things they wanted to think about, the places they wanted to be instead of where they were. For one man it was arches national park. Pictures of the park all over his office. Moab signs and relics. Canyonlands screensavers on his computer. With others' it might be pictures of family, friends, cars, rockets, trains, whatever. . . But it was interesting to see inside these people, to see what they would do to make themselves feel at home. . . And a perk that i never imagined came along with being a janitor.
And the thoughts! The thoughts about the job itself -- the reasons behind the existence of the job: why is there such a job? why do janitors exist? And it is simple: to clean up other people's shit. But I found the concept fascinating. (And it lis likewise for the garbage-man job (or whatever the poly-correct way of saying it is) and any other job that exists simply to clean up other people's shit). Fascinating because it shed this light into the awful extent to which our society -- the people of our society -- refuses to take responsibility for their own actions: always relying on somebody else to clean our messes up: it is pathetic, really.
And the messes that we make. Of everything! So, I had this thought: what if everybody were to begin taking responsibility for their own messes: no more sweeping under the rug, no more dependence on the noble janitor, the courageous garbage-man. (And of course it is somehow noble and courageous -- in India these were the jobs of the untouchable caste, the jobs that only the most despised and rejected members of society would do. Nobody else would do them. And now, in the States, the despised and rejected, the Native Americans, have sold out to the highest bidder to store nuclear waste on their soveriegn land -- just upwind of Salt Lake City. . . Again, evasion of responsibility, cleanup crew of untoucables. . .) Well, i know it is hard to follow this. As is the way I tend to write. But the general idea is this:
Our entire society has somehow developed the mentality that they are not responsible for their own actions. And look at the disasterous consequences.
It pisses me off.
Hi Ho.