My favorite movie of all time is The Shawshank Redemption. I can watch that movie every day of the week, and twice on Sunday, and never get tired of it. It is cast perfectly, it is based on a amazing short story, and Frank Darabont does a excellent job directing it. The seminal moment of the movie is when Andy Dufresne climbs through 800 yards of sewer line, "800 yards of shit smelling foulness" as Red puts it, to freedom and a new life in Zihuatanejo, Mexico. In all my time of loving this film, which is almost a decade of watching the movie, I have never truly related to Andy. Not until the last 6 months of my life.
The last 6 months have been tumultuous, to say the least. I am a man who prides himself on handling my own business, and dealing with issues, those that arise, in silence. I hate asking for help, especially from family. In the last 6 months I have lost my job, had a relationship end, lost a dog, and nearly lost my house. All of these things are consequences of my own actions, or inaction, and I am responsible for everything I have dealt with since March. In the process I have managed to alienate almost every member of my family who cares about me, due to pride and a unwillingness to admit mistakes. In short, I hit rock bottom.
Rock bottom for me was the day after a mountain weekend with my family where I fought with every single person present in the house at least twice, shrugged off responsibilities for my actions, and left on Sunday morning with the sourest of tastes in my mouth. Not the finest moment for Ryan Alexander. I was frustrated with where life had taken me, and didn't know what to do. I acted like a victim, instead of taking ownership of my own choices. I don't thing I have ever felt as low as I did the 3 hours it took to drive home from Highlands, back to Mooresville.
Andy Dufresne felt low. He almost broke when the warden had him spend a month in solitary. He almost broke under the torment of the Sisters. He almost broke when he found his wife cheating on him. But he persevered, through 27 years of confinement and solitude. At my lowest moment, I thought of Andy Dufresne. I could either resign myself to failure, or make do with what was in front of me. I chose to take the Andy route, and help myself to battle with the obstacles in front of me.
It has been difficult, starting over again. I have a new career, which I enjoy immensely. I managed to keep my house, and it feels like home for the first time in a while. I managed to patch things up with my family, and am working towards repairing the damage that I did this summer. I have forged a new relationship, and I remember what it feels like to share a part of yourself with someone else, to truly trust in another person for the good of the both of you. In short, I crawled my way to freedom. Andy was my inspiration.
Andy said to Red that "Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies"
That quote helped get me through a tough time in my life. But I have managed to climb through 800 yards of shit smelling foulness, and come out clean on the other side. Me and Andy both managed that. Now I just have to make my way to my own version of Zihuatanejo, Mexico.
Saturday, September 23, 2017
Closing Time
"Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end."
As a child of the 90's, a song that I heard on the radio hundreds of times growing up was "Closing Time" by SemiSonic. The line above is one of the more memorable lines from that song, and until very recently, I did not have much life experience that let me relate to that particular quote. A few years ago, I began my teaching career, but that wasn't really the end of a chapter of my life. It was me setting out on something wholly new and unexpected. But not the end of something I had previously set out to do.
Well, today is the end of a chapter in my life, and the start of something new. I began my teaching career at South Iredell High School, and my first year teaching was an incredible whirlwind of learning what in the heck I was doing, getting to know my kids, and figuring out what I wanted to do with the rest of my adult life. In some past blog posts, I have talked about the incredible adventures I had my first year teaching, like the time I did a poetry lecture and the kids actually enjoyed it, to my students helping me grieve for my grandfather who passed away. I have enjoyed every second of my time at South Iredell, where I learned so much about my self, and my kids, and where in life I want to go. I've discovered that the moment a child understands something, where a concept or theme clicks in there head, is one of the most precious, inspiring sights that a person can see. I have seen children at their lowest points and tried to reassure them that their goals are still attainable, and I have congratulated kids when they have reached the zenith of what they set out to accomplish. While on this crazy road, I learned a great deal about myself as a man, and the impact I can have on a kid who is just setting out on a journey of their own.
Sometimes I question the impact I have on my students, until I go out on the weekends grocery shopping, or to Target for things around the house. Without fail, I see one of my kids, and almost without exception, they are excited to see me. They scurry up to me, and we talk about school and sports, and exciting plans for the weekend. With a "See ya Monday," they run off, and I am left with a feeling of happiness and gratitude. I am happy because my kids obviously have a connection with me; I am grateful because the kids let me know what I am doing right. It means the world to me that my students enjoy speaking to me, spending time with me. I teach them english, and a few life lessons, but we teach each other what it means to be humans. How to care for one another, how to seek out other perspectives, how to pick up others when they are feeling low. If I leave any impact on a student, I hope it can be one that tells a kids that doing the right thing, and being a good human being , is always worth it. They will never regret being kind to someone. Hopefully, that is my legacy.
My career at South Iredell High School is ending. I am not sure what the future holds, but I am certain is includes me standing in front of a whiteboard, with a Robert Frost poem behind me, as I explain the significance of nuclear war in regards to "Fire and Ice." Teaching is what I am meant to do, and South Iredell has given me tools and experience that I will cherish the rest of my life. The wonderful people I work with, and great students I have taught, have left me with a strong foundation. It has been a joy teaching the last three years, and every minute has been a positive one for me when I have been at school. This chapter of my life is ending, but something else is beginning. Hopefully, it can measure up to the first three years of my teaching career.
As a child of the 90's, a song that I heard on the radio hundreds of times growing up was "Closing Time" by SemiSonic. The line above is one of the more memorable lines from that song, and until very recently, I did not have much life experience that let me relate to that particular quote. A few years ago, I began my teaching career, but that wasn't really the end of a chapter of my life. It was me setting out on something wholly new and unexpected. But not the end of something I had previously set out to do.
Well, today is the end of a chapter in my life, and the start of something new. I began my teaching career at South Iredell High School, and my first year teaching was an incredible whirlwind of learning what in the heck I was doing, getting to know my kids, and figuring out what I wanted to do with the rest of my adult life. In some past blog posts, I have talked about the incredible adventures I had my first year teaching, like the time I did a poetry lecture and the kids actually enjoyed it, to my students helping me grieve for my grandfather who passed away. I have enjoyed every second of my time at South Iredell, where I learned so much about my self, and my kids, and where in life I want to go. I've discovered that the moment a child understands something, where a concept or theme clicks in there head, is one of the most precious, inspiring sights that a person can see. I have seen children at their lowest points and tried to reassure them that their goals are still attainable, and I have congratulated kids when they have reached the zenith of what they set out to accomplish. While on this crazy road, I learned a great deal about myself as a man, and the impact I can have on a kid who is just setting out on a journey of their own.
Sometimes I question the impact I have on my students, until I go out on the weekends grocery shopping, or to Target for things around the house. Without fail, I see one of my kids, and almost without exception, they are excited to see me. They scurry up to me, and we talk about school and sports, and exciting plans for the weekend. With a "See ya Monday," they run off, and I am left with a feeling of happiness and gratitude. I am happy because my kids obviously have a connection with me; I am grateful because the kids let me know what I am doing right. It means the world to me that my students enjoy speaking to me, spending time with me. I teach them english, and a few life lessons, but we teach each other what it means to be humans. How to care for one another, how to seek out other perspectives, how to pick up others when they are feeling low. If I leave any impact on a student, I hope it can be one that tells a kids that doing the right thing, and being a good human being , is always worth it. They will never regret being kind to someone. Hopefully, that is my legacy.
My career at South Iredell High School is ending. I am not sure what the future holds, but I am certain is includes me standing in front of a whiteboard, with a Robert Frost poem behind me, as I explain the significance of nuclear war in regards to "Fire and Ice." Teaching is what I am meant to do, and South Iredell has given me tools and experience that I will cherish the rest of my life. The wonderful people I work with, and great students I have taught, have left me with a strong foundation. It has been a joy teaching the last three years, and every minute has been a positive one for me when I have been at school. This chapter of my life is ending, but something else is beginning. Hopefully, it can measure up to the first three years of my teaching career.
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