March 1, 2019

Saint David’s Day

Recent days have been turbulent–muddied waters– so who knows what will end up being remembered? The significant thing is that my statement on Facebook about the Trans community elicited a huge, unexpected, humbling response, overwhelmingly, astonishingly positive. My presence in the Asheville community is more public and far more positive than I anticipated. My anxiety about Miss M and her dirty-minded calumnies has, for the moment, gone. Maybe gone away forever, if I can remember the lessons as they come. Small people make you small to fit into their cages. You must recall your true dimensions.

Taking down Perimeters from the library was far less labor than anticipated. I had in fact anticipated not being able to do it, rather sitting exhausted at the roadside with rain pelting down on a pick-up full of ruined paintings. But everything was accomplished by noon and the rain didn’t start until 1. I’d expected that to be the worst event of the week. Perhaps it was, but it wasn’t so bad. At least this show garnered some comment. 

Finally in good voice for rehearsals.

Checked on my travel plans, and all seems to be in order. Warsaw will be a new addition.

Working on Jason the Ape Man.

A discussion of Uncle Tom’s Cabin and the myth of the happy slave led my American Lit class far afield, and we ended with footage from A Band of Brothers about the discovery by American soldiers of the Nazi death camps. They were stricken. Looking out upon those faces I thought THIS is education. Tears ran down my face. As time goes by, the number of things I can’t get through without sobbing grows; it’s time to retire.

I’ve never been better as a teacher. It’s time to retire.

Nephew Jonathan has finally a profession, in Memphis.