Today, I stood in front of a classroom of 19 students and began my first semester as a teaching associate. For the next four months, this will be my crew, and we will go on a journey of learning Research Methods in Social Work, together.
I must say, I've been very excited about this opportunity. I've been preparing and revising a syllabus for the past few weeks. I attended a training yesterday with other graduate students who will be teaching across campus. And this afternoon, at 1:10pm, it all began.
I'm excited. We had a great first day. The energy was lively. The students were present and engaged, and ultimately the mood was set just right for a powerful and productive semester.
For me, the work comes with balancing my TA and dissertation responsibilities. I will need to find the right fit between doing a good job in front of the classroom, and doing an even better job to get myself out of the classroom (the PhD student classroom, that is).
I'm very much looking forward to what's in store. This is definitely a far cry from starting the past few school years trying to recover from intense exams and coursework.
August has just about left the building, and we have officially dipped our toes into year four.
It's that time again. We're moving closer to the real BIG goal.
#letsgetit
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Saturday, August 24, 2013
50th Anniversary of the March on Washington. August 24, 2013
Today, the Lincoln Memorial was packed. This time, the occasion was the celebration of the 50th Anniversary of the March on Washington and a demonstration of a continued commitment to the pursuit of justice and equality.
I set out at about 7:30AM and met up with a few students from the School of Social Work to walk over to where the masses had begun to gather. During the early part of the day, I spent most of the time in conversation with a faculty member from our program talking about her experiences as a young girl when the first March took place and her childhood recollections about desegregation and the assassination of Dr. King.
Later, while walking along the march route, I was present to the intergenerational crowds of people. Many adorned color coordinated shirts to identify their churches, unions, sororities and fraternities; others carried banners and flyers, and sometimes broke out into old school hymns, chants, and call and response. At one point I was grooving with a marching band that motivated the crowd. I took it all in; I smiled and shared greetings with strangers and made small talk with those who I knew from HU, however, most of the seven hours that I was out there I spent inside my own thoughts. There was an incessant inner dialogue that pretty much involved me interviewing myself about what it truly meant for me to be there?
As a DMV resident of the last four years, distance has no longer been able to serve as an excuse for not attending some of the historic events that typically take place in these quarters; months ago when I heard of the march and commemoration, I knew that only sickness or an emergency would keep me from it. The initial commitment to being here was about being present among the crowds during this historic moment. While this was clear to me, there was still some cause for processing it all. I needed more from myself.
The issues that made this day significant in the first place are still prominent; there are reminders everyday across the nation about the work that is needed. In the past, it was clear that marching sent a message of unity and accountability; of not standing idly by. I can't say that I felt that being present to march in 2013 really had the same significance. Being present was more of a posture of homage and solidarity. Maybe even some of it was an opportunity to avoid the guilt that would have surfaced had I not shown up and watched only from the comfort of my living room (#realtalk).
When I got home, I called my mom to have a safe space to share and figure out my thoughts, confusion, and feelings. At the culmination of this conversation, what I came up with was an assignment to revisit footage from the original March; to learn as much as possible about what the energy and spirit was like back then in order to help give a better frame of reference to what I experienced today.
I also grew affirmed in my perspective that my contribution and legacy will be actualized through how I live, doing the work that I believe I am called to do. For me, this entails focusing on this idea of supporting healing, so that justice and freedom might be experienced for individuals and then shared within and across communities and generations. That is what rings true for me (at least for right now) in terms of figuring out who I am in the midst of this evolving history.
Ultimately, what I have concluded is that I have some posters, pictures, and videos to share with my nieces, nephews, godchildren, siblings, and family. I have a story to tell of the day that I marched and participated, and I have a vision for how my everyday can be an opportunity to elongate the marching strides of unwavering love that were activated 50 years ago, and centuries before that.
I set out at about 7:30AM and met up with a few students from the School of Social Work to walk over to where the masses had begun to gather. During the early part of the day, I spent most of the time in conversation with a faculty member from our program talking about her experiences as a young girl when the first March took place and her childhood recollections about desegregation and the assassination of Dr. King.
Later, while walking along the march route, I was present to the intergenerational crowds of people. Many adorned color coordinated shirts to identify their churches, unions, sororities and fraternities; others carried banners and flyers, and sometimes broke out into old school hymns, chants, and call and response. At one point I was grooving with a marching band that motivated the crowd. I took it all in; I smiled and shared greetings with strangers and made small talk with those who I knew from HU, however, most of the seven hours that I was out there I spent inside my own thoughts. There was an incessant inner dialogue that pretty much involved me interviewing myself about what it truly meant for me to be there?
As a DMV resident of the last four years, distance has no longer been able to serve as an excuse for not attending some of the historic events that typically take place in these quarters; months ago when I heard of the march and commemoration, I knew that only sickness or an emergency would keep me from it. The initial commitment to being here was about being present among the crowds during this historic moment. While this was clear to me, there was still some cause for processing it all. I needed more from myself.
The issues that made this day significant in the first place are still prominent; there are reminders everyday across the nation about the work that is needed. In the past, it was clear that marching sent a message of unity and accountability; of not standing idly by. I can't say that I felt that being present to march in 2013 really had the same significance. Being present was more of a posture of homage and solidarity. Maybe even some of it was an opportunity to avoid the guilt that would have surfaced had I not shown up and watched only from the comfort of my living room (#realtalk).
When I got home, I called my mom to have a safe space to share and figure out my thoughts, confusion, and feelings. At the culmination of this conversation, what I came up with was an assignment to revisit footage from the original March; to learn as much as possible about what the energy and spirit was like back then in order to help give a better frame of reference to what I experienced today.
I also grew affirmed in my perspective that my contribution and legacy will be actualized through how I live, doing the work that I believe I am called to do. For me, this entails focusing on this idea of supporting healing, so that justice and freedom might be experienced for individuals and then shared within and across communities and generations. That is what rings true for me (at least for right now) in terms of figuring out who I am in the midst of this evolving history.
Ultimately, what I have concluded is that I have some posters, pictures, and videos to share with my nieces, nephews, godchildren, siblings, and family. I have a story to tell of the day that I marched and participated, and I have a vision for how my everyday can be an opportunity to elongate the marching strides of unwavering love that were activated 50 years ago, and centuries before that.
Monday, August 12, 2013
Dr. Judith Bremner, Rest in Eternal Peace.
Today, the department mourns the passing of one of our professors.
During my final semester of coursework, I had the honor of having Dr. Judith Bremner teach my Social Work Education class; a class of a whopping two! Each week, Jessica and I sat amidst Dr. Bremner who came prepared with a thorough lecture and detailed slides, sharing information about academia and accreditation and preparing to become future faculty. She brought in great speakers and was always bubbly and cheerful. As a matter of fact, I can hear her voice now in the jovial way that she called our names several times during our three hour session.
I remember seeing her last at the annual Social Work conference in D.C. where she came to attend one of the sessions. She greeted warmly as always and was dressed in her jazzy fashions and quirky glasses, reminding me a lot of my mom and grandmother's sense of style.
I really liked her. She was extremely nice and thoughtful and great at what she did in the classroom.
I'm tremendously grateful to her for her contribution to my academic experience. I'm sure her family and CSWE will greatly miss her, and I pray that she soar, sickness and burden free, to eternal happiness.
God bless you Dr. Bremner.
Thank You for everything!
Harambee!
During my final semester of coursework, I had the honor of having Dr. Judith Bremner teach my Social Work Education class; a class of a whopping two! Each week, Jessica and I sat amidst Dr. Bremner who came prepared with a thorough lecture and detailed slides, sharing information about academia and accreditation and preparing to become future faculty. She brought in great speakers and was always bubbly and cheerful. As a matter of fact, I can hear her voice now in the jovial way that she called our names several times during our three hour session.
I remember seeing her last at the annual Social Work conference in D.C. where she came to attend one of the sessions. She greeted warmly as always and was dressed in her jazzy fashions and quirky glasses, reminding me a lot of my mom and grandmother's sense of style.
I really liked her. She was extremely nice and thoughtful and great at what she did in the classroom.
I'm tremendously grateful to her for her contribution to my academic experience. I'm sure her family and CSWE will greatly miss her, and I pray that she soar, sickness and burden free, to eternal happiness.
God bless you Dr. Bremner.
Thank You for everything!
Harambee!
Saturday, August 10, 2013
God. Will. Provide.
One of the challenges of being a student is that you don't always know how you're going to make ends meet. Sometimes, financial aid ain't right; it's hard to find work that accommodates school; and life happens, loaded with unforeseen expenses. This was one of those months. But, I knew it was coming.
A while ago, I was anticipating the fellowship year ending and the transition period until the start of the new cycle. I remember praying back then. I asked God to make a way.
I've been practicing the art of releasing worry and having faith, and as each day crept closer to August, I had to push harder and harder in the direction of faith.
August 9, 2013, the day before rent becomes officially late, I mentally strategized a back up plan, (*cue Kevin Hart voice) cuz the way my checking and savings was set up...yeah, it was looking a little bleak!
This morning, on my way back from checking on a neighbor's cat, I saw the friendly reminder in the elevators of rent being due. In bold letters and bright blue font, this notice so graciously let us know everything we needed about getting our payment in on time. No panic...well, slight panic, but make it happen mode. #faith
Now, mind you, I had already checked my bank account at around midnight. Needless to say, I had come to the conclusion that money was definitely going to have to come from somewhere else. I sat down to the computer this morning and tried to figure out where that somewhere else was.
I literally typed the words: God Will Provide.
And then something said check my account again.
I THOUGHT I WAS SEEING THINGS. Within seconds, with jaw dropped in disbelief, I hit the ground in a stance of gratitude, and shouted like nobody's business. Then texted Lawrence and called my Momma to testify!!!!
Moral of the story: God hears your call, and supplies ALL of your needs. Always in PERFECT timing.
#rentpaid #ontime
#thatmustardseedfaith
#THANKYOU
A while ago, I was anticipating the fellowship year ending and the transition period until the start of the new cycle. I remember praying back then. I asked God to make a way.
I've been practicing the art of releasing worry and having faith, and as each day crept closer to August, I had to push harder and harder in the direction of faith.
August 9, 2013, the day before rent becomes officially late, I mentally strategized a back up plan, (*cue Kevin Hart voice) cuz the way my checking and savings was set up...yeah, it was looking a little bleak!
This morning, on my way back from checking on a neighbor's cat, I saw the friendly reminder in the elevators of rent being due. In bold letters and bright blue font, this notice so graciously let us know everything we needed about getting our payment in on time. No panic...well, slight panic, but make it happen mode. #faith
Now, mind you, I had already checked my bank account at around midnight. Needless to say, I had come to the conclusion that money was definitely going to have to come from somewhere else. I sat down to the computer this morning and tried to figure out where that somewhere else was.
I literally typed the words: God Will Provide.
And then something said check my account again.
I THOUGHT I WAS SEEING THINGS. Within seconds, with jaw dropped in disbelief, I hit the ground in a stance of gratitude, and shouted like nobody's business. Then texted Lawrence and called my Momma to testify!!!!
Moral of the story: God hears your call, and supplies ALL of your needs. Always in PERFECT timing.
#rentpaid #ontime
#thatmustardseedfaith
#THANKYOU
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)