That Pesky Little Problem of Death

I've been working on a post about a student who was shot the week before last, but things are busy and hectic and difficult and so before I was able to finish-
this happens to the father of two of our students. 

Too. Much.






On a related note, here is the link to my latest Teaching Tolerance blog post on the unequal burden and link between poverty and premature death.

It's not all gloom and doom here.  Far from it.  There are too many moments of magic for me to name, especially right now as I'm trying to get ready for work.  For now, check this out for a glimpse of beauty in our city. 

Maybe If You Give A Moose a Muffin, It Actually Will Just Say Thank You

I had one of those moments tonight.  One of those chances to give something a chance and practice what you preach.

Having just arrived back in New Orleans after a week and a half away following a semester that might as well have been a lifetime (wherein a creature went from being only able to roll over to WALKING, grabbing things, and making dog and horsey noises in appropriate contexts!), I was not feeling eager to host friends-of-a-friend's on our first full day/evening back. 

I kept my polite conversation brief, and retreated multiple times to our room, where, under the guise of changing clothes I tried to reconcile wanting to be hospitable and fun with being a mom and a person who really values intimate time and privacy.

I didn't realize, nor had I taken the time to ask, that these guests were only popping in to our house a few times today in between adventures and already had plans to sleep somewhere else this evening.  The question that had freaked me out earlier, wondering "How long are they planning to stay here?" which was, "Do you have a cutting board and knife I can use?" actually meant they were going to cook us plantains to thank us for our generosity. 

When I was in Algiers Point, with a guest house (and no baby), I had absolutely no problem hosting friend-of-friends, and in fact, relished it.  Lately I guess... first of all, I feel like my personal life is richer than it ever was, and I want to take every opportunity I get to nurture it.  Secondly, along with that rich personal life has come interrupted sleep and a lack of truly Carrie-only space/time.  I think the latter has pushed me toward the edge of crazy.  So that when a friend-of-a-friend wants someone to show them around New Orleans, I don't think anymore: "Fun!  Come on down!" but, "Can we just turn off the lights and say we're not home?"

Anyway, they were here and they were in our kitchen, frying plantains.  Once Stefin informed me that they were not planning on staying post-plantain-eating, I chilled out, walked around the corner to buy a few good beers, and got down on drawing them a color-coded map of the French Quarter and Marigny. 

We talked more; it was jovial.  We snacked, had a beer; they left. 

I learned again, what I've learned many times, that I should give folks the benefit of the doubt. 

Gardening Class: BEES! And Awesomeness

Last week, a professor from Tulane brought some of his undergraduates from a service-learning architecture course to share the amazing BEE HIVES they'd made with recycled materials. 

 It was amazing.  My seventh-grade girls asked some great questions.  It was a powerful start to our six-weeks together.

Two days ago, as I'm explaining how flowering plants reproduce: apparently I responded to a volunteer's answer with something like, "Isn't that awesome?!"

Quote from N:  "You think everything's awesome."
(What a great, unintentional compliment!)
Me:  "Hahahaa... Well, it's an exciting time to be alive."

Bearded Oysters

Every time I am pelted with pangs of homesickness for my evergreen-and-damp home (Washington State), and the pesky pangs last for multiple days, and snowball into dense desires for a Northwest trek and fervent feelings that I should migrate back.... something so uniquely New Orleans happens that I fall in love with the city all over again and wonder if anyplace else will ever seem more fun than this.

I have recently become part of a parade krewe called "The Bearded Oysters."  (Video from last year; don't look for me.)  We paraded last weekend in support of the city's Fringe Festival, which is an onslaught of artsiness and cleverness and kookiness and fun, and partially responsible for Aeli's conception.  (Stefin and I got to know each other during the show that was originally intended to be part of the 2009 Fest).  It is nice to have a reason to pull on white faux-fur leg-warmers and a mirken on a Saturday afternoon.  And get together with other amazing ladies who also had to figure out how to best attach their oyster-shell bras and whether to tie or paint on a beard.  And then, you're surrounded by other creative, joy-seekers who also think walking/dancing/drinking/singing down the road is a pursuit worthy of their time, and a feeling of community creeps around your bare shoulders.  And then you look down at your bare midriff, and realize, you are warm, and you would like a drink of water, and it is nearing the end of November.  You realize that while cozying up in coffee shops watching orange-and-yellow leaves fall outside is all well-and-good, it is usually kind of cold... and you very much dislike being cold.  


And so, another point for New Orleans.  


(I still miss the NW tremendously.  Some things I pine for: 1. My family and friends who are also family.  2. Mountains looming like Gods.  3. Clean freshwater.  4. A general leaning to the left.  5. Recycling everywhere.)


The discussion of where we'll be next year is a constant one.  My mood heavily influences my ideas of what we should do.  Two weeks ago, I really, really, felt like we should move back to WA.  This past week though, I felt once again enamored with NOLA. 


Comparative T-chart to come.

More Daily Animal Doodles