Today, the atmosphere at school was different from usual; it was more somber, to the point of being stifling.

A teacher has died.

He passed away on Friday of a heart attack, after a basketball game. I heard about it from my school's online news and from talk around campus - I wasn't there and I don't know the details. In one way, it's really jolting. He'd been plenty alive just a few months ago. I only remember one thing about him, and that was when we were taking a survey in the cafeteria. (Ha! The only time I get to sit in the cafeteria is during PE CLASS. I never actually eat in there. There are a few people who do, but most of us are outside, rain or shine.) He'd been barking at us, something about putting down the pens, or passing up the papers...I don't remember clearly.

I wish I had something else to remember about him. But I don't. And I never will.

It's startling in another way, too, to think that someone who was there one day would be gone, dead, so quickly. It wasn't like cancer or some slow terminal illness where you could see him weakening by the day. No, it was just like that. So fast. It takes so long for people to truly live, do more than just exist. Yet it can be taking away so quickly.

And at the same time, somehow I wasn't surprised. I almost feel as if I'd expected it to happen. I'd known since late 2010 that once my guidance counselor, who'd been on maternity leave, came back, then the lady substituting for my counselor would take over as a PE teacher (the teacher who died was only teaching for the first semester this year; I don't know why, maybe one of his students does), which was a little funny because the substitute counselor/new PE teacher is now pregnant herself. (And that was sudden too. I hadn't realized she was pregnant until she said so recently.) Not knowing why the teacher was not going to teach PE anymore, I wondered if perhaps he was planning to go away...But I didn't think that death would be his vehicle.

In fact, I HAVE seen a similar thing happen before, with my fourth grade teacher. I don't remember too much about her anymore, just that she had short blonde hair, was sometimes in a pretty bad mood, and had a jar of butterscotch candies to give out as a reward. She got injured a couple of times - one time I think a box fell onto her face and she wore sunglasses to cover up the bruise. The last time I saw her was on the day of our field trip to a museum. I thought she'd seemed fine.

After that, she was gone. And I later found out that she had died. The school never told us why exactly she died. Some students came up with all sorts of ideas. I recall that one classmate of mine said that perhaps her boyfriend had murdered her. I know nothing. Just that she is dead.

So the recent death of that teacher makes me feel queasy. I wonder a little if I might've caused in some way. A lot of things in my life have followed cycles. Is it an odd coincidence? Was it all predetermined? Have I, by speculating, actually set things in motion? Am I just reading into it too much? This isn't an anime. I'm not Haruhi Suzumiya.

Or am I?

Labels: cafeteria, cycle, death, deja vu, fate, health, heart attack, illness, memories, PE class, sick, survey, teacher, thoughts

My mother sometimes requests things from the library for me. Oftentimes she gets test prep books and things like that, which I try to avoid touching unless she bothers me about it. But this time she got me the book Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell, a book I have been meaning to read for some time.

This book has made me see success in a different way. I have to say, I am like the majority of people - I like to hear those stories about a poor person who works hard and is talented and becomes successful (rich and happy). But really, you need more than talent to be successful.

What happens to you is shaped a lot by the kinds of circumstances you have. Sometimes it takes a lot of luck for you to become successful. In the book, there is a list of the 75 richest people in the world. Many people were wealthy because they happened to be royalty. But there were also quite a few Americans, all born at about the same time (around 1830's to 1840's). This was a good time to be born if you were going to be an entrepreneur.

I've been thinking how a person's experiences can also change their personality. My parents have said that I was placed in a combination class (meaning a class consisting of students of two different grades) because when I was in kindergarten I was thought to be mature enough for it or something like that. I'm probably more afraid to talk to teachers now that I'm older than when I was younger... It was a struggle for me, the time after one of my closest friends moved away, in fifth grade. I had other friends, but they had become closer to their other friends, and I didn't want to be a third wheel, a tagalong. I turned to books and to the Internet (and ever since I've been hooked on the computer...) and became rather reclusive. I didn't want to make friends, since I felt that I would lose them again, and even if I had wanted to, I'm not sure I would have been able to. I was losing my ability to communicate.

There was a time that I was angry at my friend for moving away, and at her father (because he had gotten a job elsewhere, and in order to keep the family together, they had moved). And then there was a time when I was really sad. But eventually I subconsciously had moved on, and I started to mingle again. (It was slow, though, and one of the friends I made that year moved away the very next year...) I guess there's a part of me that fears getting involved and attached to things because I suspect that I will lose them. But I hope I can become brave enough to overcome this.

I feel oddly peaceful nowadays, after having gone on a few walks by myself. I visited the recreational sort of place in my town. Unfortunately, it wasn't the quite oasis that I had suspected. The pool was quite loud since there seemed to be some kids from summer camps there. There were older people playing volleyball (meaning older than the kids swimming, not meaning senior citizens) and there was a group of adults walking over to some benches. (I kept wondering why they weren't at work. I mean, it was a weekday, after all. My mom says they were on a group outing or something like that.) But it was still nice to be by the creek. I'm grateful to photography because it has made me pay more attention to little things, and I appreciate the beauty of nature much more than I used to. And I can take my time thinking. I feel like I'm reliving my life, and returning to my old self. Or maybe I'm discovering my true self for the first time.

Labels: bravery, circumstances, discovery, emotions, fear, friends, introverted, luck, malcolm gladwell, memories, outliers, peace, personality, success, thoughts, timing, truth, walk

With only two weeks of summer remaining, I've decided to make the most of it. My father gave me the A-OK to take walks by myself, as long as I didn't go too far away from home and remembered to bring my garage opener and cell phone with me.

My plans were foiled the first time that I made up my mind to go outside for a stroll. The sun was particularly high in the sky in the early afternoon, so I decided to wait a few hours for it to go down a bit. But then someone rang the doorbell. I figured that I shouldn't leave the house anytime soon just in case whoever it was might see me and try to talk to me. Or even worse, he/she might realize I had left home and would try to break in. (Well, we do have an alarm system, but if there's no one in the vicinity, you could still probably get away with stealing something.)

By the time I figured I could try venturing outdoors, it was already past 5 pm. If I went out now, my parents might return while I was gone. I would have to leave a note for them saying, "I'm fine, don't look for me" or something (but then they might worry and think I was running away from home). So I figured I'd have to give up on my solo walk for that day.

But on Monday, I gave it another try. I had woken up fairly early that day, so I was already rarin' to go when it was 11 am. I decided to walk to the end of the street that I live on, where the cul-de-sac is (I happen to live at the very beginning of the street, although someone who lives further down the street once said she thinks of my house as being the end of the street). There are gaps in the fence which you can go through to cross the train tracks and enter the park that is on the other side of the tracks. (The official entrance to the park is at the end of a different street. I usually go in through the little side entrance.)

As I entered the park, I saw that there were squirrels running away, probably to escape me, the big scary monster. There were also a bunch of rather funny birds. I am quite sure they were quails. (Quails are California's state bird, but I've never really seen them before. At least, not that many of them at once) They began toddling off quickly when they realized I was there. I followed them for a while (which made them walk in their awkward way even faster) until they reached a dead end and instead flew up to escape me. I guess they aren't really used to people. So they only come out at times of day where the people are far away or there aren't many of them.

I was planning to have a bit of time to myself for quiet contemplation. While walking there I had been feeling quite amiable. However, when I was about to settle down on a bench in the park, I noticed a fly on it. It wasn't one of those tiny ones that don't really bother you. It was one of those big fly sort of flies. (Due to my lack of insect knowledge, I can't tell the species.) There are no other benches in the park besides the picnic tables, which I don't want to sit at because they are close to the playground and the parents with their little kids will probably think I'm suspicious. (I mean, I was taking a box out of my bag. What if there had been a bomb in it? Though I can assure you I am not at all interested in terrorism.)

Then, soon after I dismissed the park bench as being undesirable, I heard a baby's crying. I didn't have much reason to be staying in the park any longer anyhow, so then I left for home, but using a different, longer route. Along the way home I saw a cat, which improved my mood considerably (at least, until it left). Nothing ever turns out perfectly, but I had a lovely time walking by myself. Somehow it's different when you're alone. Even if you're with someone else and you're not talking to them, you're still aware of his/her presence. But by yourself, you can let down your guard and relax for a change.

Labels: alone, animals, danger, fly, going home, outside, park, quails, ruined, summer, terrorism, thoughts, time, walk

My language arts teacher recently decided that we had to give short speeches about our World War Two books, so she's been going over what we should and shouldn't do when speaking in class.

To try and show us what we ought to do when we're speaking, she showed us a promotional video for her friend who is a motivational speaker. It was pretty funny towards the beginning of the video.

He was saying, "What we played with the guys was sophisticated. We had TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES! What can be cooler than that? You had a turtle who was a ninja that you could take to school with you and you could decapitate a Barbie's head with it!"

Then my history teacher decided to talk about a very important thing when you're giving a speech. You have to have a message, something that you want your audience to remember even if they don't really pay attention to the rest.

His example was when we were doing our presentations about historical figures we had researched. One girl (let's call her A) went first. My teacher says that while she was presenting we were all thinking to themselves, "I'm not ready to present. I'm not ready to present. I'm not ready to present...Oh, wait, what was the name? I'll have to ask later. I'm not ready to present. I'm not ready to present..." and so on. And then when the next person goes, the people who haven't gone are thinking the same as before while A, who had just gone, is thinking, "I'm so glad it's over with. I'm so glad it's over with. Oops, I missed the name. I'm so glad it's over with. I'm so glad it's over with." Since everyone's kind of distracted by their own thoughts, you can't necessarily expect your audience to understand everything you said...So you have to make sure they at least get the important parts.

But the secret to a good presentation is something we learned in geometry class, pretty much by accident. A few days ago we were being taught about the areas of prisms and whatnot. While he was talking the teacher walked around holding up a translucent cylinder (I think it was glass or plastic, I couldn't really tell) and we were transfixed by it. He had the notes for the lesson projected, and every time the cylinder was over the projected screen, it looked strange. All beautiful and shiny-like. We were so captivated by it that my teacher said he was heart-broken. He had been teaching for 15 minutes and we were quiet because we were bored and uninterested. But as soon as that amazing cylinder was held up, we became very excited.

So, if you want your audience to pay attention, project something and then wave a magical prism in front of it. It's sure-fire.

Labels: attention, audience, geometry, interesting, mesmerizing, motivational, presentation, prism, projector, public speaking, screen, speech, teacher, teenage mutant ninja turtles, thoughts, trick

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