Choosing my words

Published November 1, 2014 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

I have a recurring dream where my teeth fall out. Sometimes it’s just one or two teeth. Sometimes it’s whole sections. I have had this dream so many times that I actually researched how to save the teeth for surgical reattachment. (It’s storing the tooth in cold milk. If the root is mostly intact, it can be reinstalled with minimal fuss.)  Now this dream features me searching for a glass of cold milk.

I have heard that this dream means that I regret something I said or something I ate.

This says a lot about me.

I love words. I love reading and writing and I love wrapping myself in the comfort of a well-turned phrase.

My life being what it is these days, in which I am barely managing to feed myself. (In fact, if it wasn’t for my Amanda Friend and AOG, I would be eating cereal while sitting on the floor in my underwear, or eating tuna out of the can while leaning over the sink.)  I don’t have the time to write anything more thought provoking than a carefully worded email whilst choking on my own rage at the condition someone left the auditorium. (That was very challenging.)

I have had several moments of reflection in regards to my career/calling/ caterwauling. (The rhyme and alliteration is intentional)  I continue to be both challenged and entertained by my students. (Sometimes at the same time.)

A lot of my struggle and strife comes from word choice. Twice in the last three weeks I have had girls come to me in tears because a boy said something that made them feel ugly and uncomfortable. I dealt with both situations by telling the girls that a) they were brave for telling someone; b) boys are turkeys and they don’t stop; c) don’t ever let a turkey tell you what you’re worth. and  c) telling the boy(s) that their behavior was bullying and that I will not tolerate it in my classroom.

The whole situation reminds me of a grudge a have carried for  three decades.

When I was 12 years old, a boy made me feel worthless because he said I was fat and ugly.

He is now the size of a small dinosaur and his children all have their mother’s unfortunately pug nose.

Sometimes I wish more people worried about words as much as I do.

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