The carrying tides, riding the waves...

Ladies and Gentlemen, friends and family,

I thank you dearly from the very depths of my being for coming back after my prolonged and unexcused absence for the last bit of time. I must inform you, the time that I am informing you of has been quite fantastic. And in using such a word as fantastic, I must further inform you that this by no means all has been bliss; rather, the time I speak of has been an “up and down” ride like none before. Some high highs, and some low lows, let me tell you. I now have a clearer glimpse of the meaning behind Dickens’ fantastic opening words of A Tale of Two Cities.

Now, I could give you a narrative of every significant even that has happened in the last week or so, but let’s be honest, that’s not enough. It can become a bit boring and tedious to read chronological events, and I’m not that good of a writer by which I could enthrall you with all the funny little details that only the most observant of us notice. No, allow me to take a different approach.

I am going to write, and when things pop in my head, I will include them, even if it has nothing to do with whatever else I happen to be talking about. Let’s see… Cross Country. It has been fantastic, let me tell you. I am connecting with these kids in very unique ways, and I feel they can see that I once went through the pain and pleasure that is distance running. I have still been running with them—5 miles yesterday afternoon—, and yesterday, we began our day with Yoga at 6AM. I struck up a conversation with the instructor, told her I did a few sessions at CorePower in California, and after this and that, it turns out she went to USD. Crazy. Small world indeed… turns out CorePower is where she trained and learned to instruct. So I did Yoga with a group of 30 high school students in the wrestling room. It was a great session, full of concentration, meditation, and high school kids farting. A quick simulation:

Instructor: “Now… move deeper into the stretch… feeling your breath… feeling the pull of your right quad… feeling connected…”

Fart. Toot. Laughter. Yeah, she spoke meditatively and calmly, like all yoga instructors, and as we were to “let go” and concentrate, moving into the stretch, kids let them rip. I cracked up every time. Even the instructor couldn’t hold in her laughter. An hour of yoga, and we moved on. I ran with them that afternoon, and as I was running with a group of them early on, Jake, a junior, says, “So Coach Lawlor, what did you think of that Yoga instructor??” I kind of laugh and say she’s nice. “Yeahhh I SAW you talking to her, don’t think I wasn’t watching.” I laugh again and tell him he saw me bustin’ out the charm. “Oooh I didn’t realize I was seeing ‘the charm.’” They all busted my balls, then they ate my dust as I ran off and destroyed them.

So yes, Cross Country has been great. I’m getting to know most of the kids on the team, and most are very accepting. Took them a while to learn my name. One kid was talking to another coach and called me “The Leprechaun.” It was early on, and I was a little upset. “Oh man… they don’t know my name… I am so sad, waahhh.” Then I realized this is a goofy little high school kid with stringy long reddish hair that poofs out, so next practice, I started calling him Garfunkel. He asked if he could still call me Leprechaun, and I said, “… you can call me COACH Leprechaun.” So that’s what we got. The guys are doing great though. There are some studs on the team, some not-so-studs, and a lot of good guys. Solid coaches too, including the infamous Doc-TOR, a Cuban man who enjoys making very sexual jokes, going so far as to fake pedophilia (or so we think…). Oh well, he’s just a Commie. We have our first 5K time trial on Saturday, can’t wait. It’s a joy seeing these kids get better and push further, and it’s been beyond rewarding to run alongside them through this perilous, glorious journey.

Now, how bout class. Yes, my two sections of Freshman Theology. Last you heard from me, I was a maniacal teacher staring at them from the edges of sanity, asking for them to try and push me over the edge, letting Mr. Beethoven speak for me. I regret to inform you that I have not done this every day since. I have actually begun teaching with words. But the stares have not ceased. I still give them “the look” throughout class. So what do we do in class? We do a lot of journaling time. Here are their instructions: Put the pen to the page, and do not stop writing until I tell you the time is up. I am teaching them about themselves. How to listen to themselves. To become self-aware. And all the while, I play great music to get the thoughts flowing. I played some Arcade Fire last week (“Wake Up”), and a bunch of kids asked about it. They responded great. That phenomenal band can cross gaps of universal proportions with their mesmerizing sound. They can connect the cosmos. They can bring hope out of he who has lost it all. They can make babies jump for joy. They can cure the lame. They ROCK. Speaking of them, I had a dream last night that I was at their concert. I tried desperately to meet Win Butler, their main man, and could not quite get there. Maybe he is an Untouchable, just like Capone. But he’s greater, for sure. Anyways, we journal, and we discuss. I have two classes, and they are as different as could be. My first class loves discussions. I have had to end every class with at least 4 hands in the air. Everyone wants to throw in their opinion, and they have great opinions. I have been extremely impressed. We have had long and deep discussions over seeing God in all things, but yesterday, the talk topped them all. Yesterday, we somehow got on the topic of life after death and the ceaseless possibilities. This was perfect time for the inner philosophy nerd to come out full force in me. So naturally, I began to talk about Nietzsche’s eternal recurrence. “So guys, consider this. Let’s say you die, and when you die, you are told that you will live the exact life you have lived over and over again for all of eternity, an infinite amount of times. You can change no decisions, you simply must live it over and over.” The response was immediate. “Maaaan, that would SUCK!” “There’s no way that could happen!” But the smiles were everywhere at this new world-shaking idea. One kid, Austin, a born philosopher, raised his hand. I called on him, brought the classes attention to him, and he began to attempt to communicate his sheer confusion. “For that to happen… you would have to have… an INFINITE amount of alternate realities, all happening at the same time…” I look at him, nod my head, and say “Uh huh…” He continues “and a loop in time… and wormholes connecting them…” I continue nodding as I smile. Eventually he runs out of idea, looks at me, and I say “Yup, you’d need all that,” not faltering one bit in maintaining its possibility. The class laughs. I say “Sure, it’s UNLIKELY, but it’s logically possible isn’t it? We can conceive of it.” A kid brings up Groundhog Day, I tell him maybe we’ll watch some clips. So I continue on and inform them this is one of the fundamental ideas of the philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche, one of the most influential philosophers of all time. “So he poses the question: ‘if this happens, will you be very happy, or will you be really pissed off?!” They laugh again. “He says that you should be HAPPY, you should be ecstatic. Because you should embrace every single moment and live it to the very fullest! You should love life and never sit there being bored.” I gave a mock “I’m bored” impression that they enjoyed. We continued contemplating the endless questions and endless possibilities of death, and we closed with A.J.’s comment, “Well… I heard one person say that… maybe we’re ALREADY dead, and we’re just waiting for what happens next. We’re in limbo.” Everyone “oooohed” and “aaaahed,” and I said, “On that uplifting note, class is dismissed! Thank you for your thoughts gentlemen, very well done!” One of the best conversations I’ve had, and it was with FRESHMEN in high school! I was more than impressed with these kids, they have fantastic ideas. And then I went to my next class…

Night and day. Girl and boy. John Stamos and Gary Busey. As far away as possible from each other, stark opposites. I cannot begin to describe the difference between these two classes. The other class is filled with smart-asses and kids with ADD off the wazoo. Some smart kids, without a doubt, but kids who are far less willing to work toward their potential. I get into class, knowing beyond the point of doubt that the conversation will not reach the incredible heights of the one before. And I realize I have no choice but to improvise, for the entire class before was nothing but improvisation… they just make it easier on me. So how can I improvise with a bunch of goons? I start the class with a video on “Finding God In All Things,” just as I did with the other class. And I ask if there are any reactions or ideas. Nothing. Naturally. So I begin to talk. I go deeply on why it is so important, why we must change our perspective. I attempt to make a connection, cause I can tell they have tuned it out, thinking “the last thing I want to hear is a talk about God. Blah blah. Man I like Xbox.” So I ask them to raise their hands if they are Catholic. Most hands go up. I ask them to raise their hands if every once in a while, they don’t look forward to going to church. The same hands go up. Then I ask if more often than not they dread Church. All the same hands. Then I ask if anyone is super excited every Sunday when they get to go. No hands go up. They laugh, and so do I. I tell them I know what they mean. Sure, it can be boring, it can be repetitive, it can be annoying. So why the hell do we do it? One kid gives a great response. “Because we are giving to God when we do it. It’s not all about us.” I completely agree. So I ask a little further. “Well do you think God wants you to be there and be bored, thinking ‘man I don’t want to be here!’? Do you think he wants us to hate the experience of going just because we have to?” They say that they do not think so. “So then what can we do? How can we give ourselves to God?” Silence, until Jack raises his hand. “Well, it takes a responsibility, we have to do something.” “Exactly!!” I scream. “We have to DO SOMETHING! We have to make something of our lives and not just sit back on our asses!” One kid alludes back to a homily given by Fr. Gibbons at their opening mass and recalls “chillaxin’ is not our natural state.” Fr. Gibbons demonstrated this with a bean bag chair, showing that “there is time for chillaxin’, but that is not Rockhurst time.” So kids start to talk about bean bag chairs. One kid says “and a bean bag chair will mess up your back.” I agree with him. “Yes, sleeping on a bean bag chair will give you a bad back.” Jonathan speaks up. “But wait, isn’t it good for you back? Cause it, like, forms to your back and stuff?” I begin to attempt to explain why it is bad for your back, find myself at a loss of words, and say “Look, the point is NOT whether or not it is good for your back to sleep on a bean bag chair. The point is NOT TO BE LAZY!!” They all laugh. A bunch of hands go up. I call on a group. “But can’t a bean bag chair be good for you?” “Bean bag chairs are just so comfortable.” “They are better than stools cause they take less energy,” Chris says. I respond immediately. “See, this is EXACTLY WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT! You’re talking about the difference of energy between getting up from a STOOL or BEAN BAG CHAIR! That is like NOTHING! I mean, think, how much energy is that really?” Christ responds. “It’s like… an hour…” I throw my hands into the air. “AN HOUR?! AN HOUR IS NOT A PROPER MEANS TO MEASURE ENERGY!!!” They laugh once more. “Look, DROP THE BEAN BAG CHAIR! You guys are trying to JUSTIFY laziness, and it is not something that should be justified. It should be done away with!” So I move on, a few kids make comments, and I see Chris has his hand up again. I know it’s gonna be something ridiculous. But I call on him. “Well, a bean bag chair can be good—“ I cut him off. “Listen, no more on the bean bag chair, ok?” “No, it’s something good. A bean bag chair can help us feel better.” So I say, “Ok, your point brings up 2 things. Number one—you’re being a smartass. I see right through you. Number 2—you’re trying to justify laziness. Now isn’t there a problem with this??!!” So I go on a 10 minute rant about laziness. “We cannot be faithful to God if we are lazy, because if we are, we aren’t doing Sh** with our lives! We have to get off our asses and do something! Just like Jack said! We have to become something and use our potential! Otherwise, we are saying ‘screw you God, I don’t want what you gave me.’” I rant and rant, and I see some nodding their heads. Others have their heads down. I tell them I am lazy at times too. It can be very tempting. But it is about going past that temptation and really doing something, becoming who you are with vigor in your heart. I finish, drop my hands, and calmly say, “Now, does anyone have any questions or comments on that impassioned lecture?” Blank stares. Until a kid raises his hand. “Umm… well, let’s say after football practice, when I come home and I’m really tired. Am I allowed to like sit on the couch and relax a bit?” I can’t help but laugh. This kid actually takes every word in my ridiculous rant on laziness as absolute truth. He thinks I have every answer and I am actually giving universal rules of the Catholic faith. I explain to him that what I said is simply my perspective, my opinion on the matter. Of course you can go home and relax. I know that you get tired. I can’t make you do something. But it is important to realize that you have potential, and it is important to find that right medium. That line where you are not too lazy to the point where you do nothing, and you are not doing too much to the point where you are overstraining yourself. He nods and takes in what I say. Then Andre, the hilarious little black kid who was the victim on the first day (the kid who couldn’t stop laughing), raises his hand. “Um, Mr. Lawlor? I heard that the Catholic Church says that if you are gay you’re going to hell. Is that true?” I almost bust up laughing. Where the hell did that question come to this kid’s head? Literally nothing to do with anything we have just talked about. But as it is an important question, and as I didn’t care at this point, I gave an answer. I told him that it is an extremely tricky issue in the Catholic church and divides a lot of people, but I went on to tell him that many people do believe that. On such an issue, I had to put in my two cents, so I told him I personally think it is a ridiculous belief that cannot accept reality, but that doesn’t make that necessarily true. Hands go up. “Well, I think that God made us all unique, so we should accept them for that.” A great idea! Kids begin to offer great ideas on the topic, sharing a lot of their beliefs, and I am extremely impressed with their open-mindedness. I take it a few places but end it before getting in too far, explaining to them that we will talk about it later in the semester. 15 minutes left in class. I have them journal. And I put on Cat Stevens to chill out. These kids are nuts. They are a challenge, but I gotta admit a fun one. Announcements come on at the end of the day, and I notice halfway through, kids start giving “ooohs” and “aaaahss” at random times, as if what is being said matters to them. This is strange, I think. So I look around. They are all looking at the projection on the wall. The projection of the screen saver. And what is on it? Two Rockhurst emblems, bouncing around. They “ooohed” every time the two came close to hitting each other. At this point, I can’t help it. I smile, and I watch with them. Who cares about these announcements. They see that I’m smiling, so their sighs begin to get greater. They are getting more excited by the second. Some close calls, they are on the edge of their seats. And finally, the two connect. The room erupts. Everyone throws his hand into the air and screams “Yaaaaa!!!!” like something just happened with immense significance. And I laugh. I can’t help it, their energy is contagious. They never got out of control… just a fun time. I let them go, and they left, off into a new afternoon of adventure and fun. I have them in 5 minutes, so I’m gonna finish this post. Wish me luck.

What can I say, it’s been a ride. You just read about one of my classes from each section. I have one of each every day. Today in my first one we talked about the endless intricacies and complexities of the universe and how uniqueness can be traced down to the smallest cells, the smallest atoms. God in all things. See it. 

The Crazy Man of Day 1...

To all ye who are interested,
Day 1 is complete. And a story is being called for. Open thine ears.

I go back to my place after cross country practice at 8:15AM. I'm tired, but I decide I must not sleep, for my first class is at 10:35 AM. What to do in this time? After a coffee that sends my mind ramblin' and a Target run for some essentials, I come back to my place, turn on Mozart, set up a few pillows, and meditate to the beautiful music, flowing deeply into the moment, to my core. I meditate for 20 minutes, feeling calm and centering on the breath, and as my alarm rings, I realize it is time to prepare. I put on my shirt and tie, my khakis and dress shoes, and pack the essentials for this first 10 minute class-- binders, a felt marker for the whiteboard, and iPod complete with dock. I depart into the humidity.
I walk into school and hear a man speaking into a megaphone. As I travel to its source, I feel that nervous sensation bubbling within. My fears coming to bay- "What if I'm not good?" "What if I mess it up?" "What if I lose my cool?" And I take a deep breath and move forward, maintaining the connection with my core. I go to the railway overlooking the main common area, and my eyes are greeted with the sight of hundreds of kids in dark blue Rockhurst spirit shirts listening to the Assistant Principal of Student Affairs talking loudly into a megaphone. I find my roommate, we smile, and suddenly, the voice is taken over by the sound of pounding drums- the students begin to move rapidly up the stairs, off to their first class. "What do you know," I say, "...it's time."
I walk over toward room 207 where I know my first class is. The students are going over there even though it is 10 minutes before the scheduled time. Being a new teacher, I figure I simply should go over, we must be ahead of schedule. I walk through the sea of kids without looking at a single one, a hard look on my face. I part the students at the door, open it, and hold the door open as I enter. Students begin filing in, and I take my position at front. "Should we just sit anywhere?" they ask. I nod my head and remain silent. They file in, and I set up the iPod dock behind me, preparing. For what you ask? For none other than Mr. Ludwig Van. I stare out at the kids as they enter into their seats, and I realize, the time has begun. Time to enact the first day plan- remain silent and stare out at the class until someone has the balls to say something. I resume my seat at the front, and the students stare at me, silently. They are expecting something. I am not giving it to them. Their eyes remain focused on me, and as the silent moments pass, they enter into a deeper confusion of what the hell is happening. Now, this would be an easy task for 10 minutes, but because my naivete brought me to class 10 minutes early instead of waiting for the scheduled time, I now have 20 minutes to endure. I realize that, take a deep breath, and stare out at them some more. I look into the eyes of those looking at me. Some look away, and some continue staring. Kids look around with confused looks; I stare at them until they see me doing so. The bell rings for class to begin, we've been here for almost 10 minutes. I stand up, grab my marker, and take off the cap. And there is no felt. You gotta be kidding me... no felt on a felt tip marker? It simply wasn't there. So I scratch that idea. I turn to the iPod player, and I press play. Immediately, Beethoven's 5th Symphony in C Minor begins with the ominous four notes. I resume my seat, look out once more, and say nothing.
We sit and listen for quite some time, still nothing said. The time is going so slow, but this is incredible. These kids are so confused, no idea what is going on, and all they see is a maniacal teacher up front staring at them with wide eyes. I motion like I am going to say something, then go back into scanning the room. With 5 minutes remaining, I decide that I will say something. I adopt a confused look on my face, hold my arms out, and say "...Well?" I look around; they seem more confused. After a few seconds, I ask, "Don't you have any questions on your first day?" I continue looking around, a sinister smile coming to my face. Kids are shaking their heads, I allow the silence to continue. Finally, a brave soul raises his hand. "Yes sir!" I say. And he speaks timidly. "Umm... are we gonna do this every day?" I raise a finger. "Aaah! A great question! And I will tell you... that you will see." I resume my facade and continue scanning the room. A few moments, and another hand raises. "What do we need to bring to class on Tuesday?" "Another good question! I will tell you." They all get their little notebooks out. I yell out "Bring your BOOK! I am also aware that you have a Bible, bring that. And have them with you EVERY DAY! Have a writing utensil, and bring a NOTEBOOK." They have enough info, I decide. For now. Another hand. "What's your name?" he asks. I almost smile, but I respond, "Another good question! Can anybody answer that for him?" A few hands go up, I call on a kid, he looks at a paper in front of him, and correctly says my name, "Mr. Lawlor." I commend him and repeat it, introducing myself. And another hand. "Do you like this music?" I almost laugh again. "Do I like this music? I assure you, I will never play music in this classroom that I do not like. It is all good music. And if you don't like the music that I play, I don't care, because I DO. And if you DO like the music, then come chat with me, and we will talk about how great it is." Some light laughs. A few more moments. A kid asks a question. I say "Excuse me sir! You will RAISE YOUR HAND if you are to speak in my classroom!" He timidly puts his hand up. "Yes sir" I say. "Well... why can't we disagree with you if we don't like the music?" My finger raises. "Ahh a great question. And the answer is, you CAN. But not in the middle of class. However, you may come up to me after class and you may tell my why you don't like it. I will give my reasons for liking it, and if your opinion is different, I will respect it... unless it's bad." They all laugh. I smile a bit. I like this class, a lot. So I ask, "Does anyone know WHO this IS?" Hands immediately go in the air. I call on a kid, "Beethoven!" "Yes, excellent! Ludwig van Beethoven. Does anyone know what PIECE it is?" A lone hand raises. "Beethoven's 5th." "Yes! Fantastic, that is correct," I say. No talking for a few more moments. Tension again. I break the silence and say "Beethoven's 5th in C minor," and leave it at that. More silence. I continue to scan. It seems they are out of questions for the moment. After a minute or two of musical silence, I simply say "Systematic Theology 1!" A few more moments... "Is everybody in the right class?" They all shake their heads. Time is almost up. Just another minute. "Well gentlemen, you know what you need to bring Tuesday. I will tell you that I STRONGLY RECOMMEND you have the summer reading assignment done by class next Tuesday. And if you have not read it, I STRONGLY RECOMMEND you do it NOW. I will leave it at that." And class ends. They begin to file out. 3 kids come up to me, look me in the eye, hold out their hands, and say "thanks for the class." I shake their hands and say "no problem, thank you for the questions." And class number one is over.
I leave the room, feeling great. This is too good. It was hilarious, the kids ask good questions, a few seem smart, and I haven't seen any big smart asses yet. It all went great and was a blast all the while. I have 20 minutes until the next class, and I feel on top of the world. I walk around and go down to my new office in the Pastoral office. I wait for a bit, get a new marker, and prepare to go to my next class. I arrive and walk through the Freshmen without saying anything or looking at any, still feeling great, more comfortable than ever. I open the door in the same fashion and allow them to file in. I can immediately tell this group is more unruly. They are laughing, joking around, much louder. They file into their seats. I sit up front, take a deep breath, and stare out in similar fashion. I begin to look around in the same way, and immediately, a kid starts cracking up. I look over at him. He's trying not to catch eyes, he's trying to stifle a laugh, but he can't hold it in. He's lost it. And other kids are laughing. I can tell this class will be more difficult. Am I ready to yell at these kids though? How do I get them to shut up? Can they tell I'm just messing around? They continue laughing, and I make my stare more intense. I focus it entirely on the laughing kid, and he puts his head down, trying to stifle his laugh. The bell rings, I stand up, and I walk over to the whiteboard across the room. I grab the marker out of my pocket, and it is the same one as before, no felt tip. I look at it, and toss it on the ground. I hear the kids laugh. I get out the new pen, and in crazy old professor fashion, I write in huge swirling letters "Systematic Theology I," with "Mr. Lawlor" directly underneath. I put the pen down, walk across the classroom, turn on Beethoven behind the podium, and sit in my chair at the front. Now in this classroom, there is a path cleared between the desks, which are set up on either side of the room, facing each other. So these kids are staring at each other, from across the way, making each other laugh. The kid is still laughing. But the bell rang. It is my time, I decide. "I DON'T UNDERSTAND," I abruptly shout out, as all eyes turn right to me, "WHY SOME PEOPLE ARE LAUGHING!" I stare out with wide eyes, and turn to the kid who was laughing the most. He is stifling the laugh more than before, but he is still struggling a bit. "You will NOT LAUGH IN THIS CLASSROOM!" I shout as I stare at him. Immediately, his face goes completely rigid. He looks terrified. I look around, and no one is laughing anymore. "UNDERSTOOD?!" "Yes" they all say immediately.They are all looking either at the desks or the floor, scared at the maniac in front of the class. I look around, and all is silent but the music. Minutes of silence. I see two kids in the back whispering to each other, so I stare directly at them, eyes wide once more. They look at me, and I simply nod my head, like an insane man. They go back to silence. I let this go until 5 minutes are left in class. Then I attempt to recreate the environment of the previous class, asking "Well? Don't you have questions on your first day?" A hand goes up. "How long have you been a teacher here?" the smartass in the back asks, thinking he's the coolest guy around. I stare at him, and I say "How long have I been a teacher here? ... maybe you'll find out someday." I go back to scanning the room. Another hand goes up, "Are you a real teacher?" the next smartass asks. I stare at him with wide eyes. I lower my voice. "You know, it's a good thing it's the first day, because I would not let that slide, but I'm more generous than usual today. But you will have RESPECT, and ask RESPECTFUL questions." He looks down and nods his head. Yeah, these are a bunch of punks in this class. Another raised hand. "What should we bring to class?" "Ahh, now that's a GOOD question. That's something everyone is wondering I'm sure. Well I will tell you." And they get their notebooks out, and with slightly more sternness than the previous class, I tell them what they MUST bring. And I assure them they will need it EVERY DAY throughout the semester. "We will not use it every day, but we will use it, and if you do not HAVE IT... you will be... destroyed." A few confused chuckles. They write the stuff I tell them down, as if it is immensely important. Which I guess it is to them. I give them the same speal about the summer reading. I look around, ready for more questions. A kid raises his hand. "What are we going to do in this class?" "Another good question," I say, and without answering, I look around the class again, scanning. The kid that was laughing before raises his hand. "Yes sir" I say. "Um... where is the music coming from?" he asks. I hear kids whisper 'iPod..." but not loudly enough to here. I respond, "that's a good question," and leave it at that. A kid raises his hand, ready to tell that it's from the iPod, but I don't call on him. I'm ready for this class to be over, these kids are already a handful. But damn it's a fun challenge. They are testing me... and they will continue to test me. Another kid puts his hand up, "How do you pronounce your last name?" "Aah, now THIS is a good question isn't it?" I wait a moment. "Would anyone like to try?" Hands go up immediately. I call on a kid, "Mr. Law-lore?" "Not quite! But close. Anyone else?" A nervous looking kid. "Mr. Lawl-er." "Yes! That is correct. Pronounced as if the 'o' is an 'e,' except spelled with an 'o'. 'Lawlor.'" They continue to look around.
"Now," I continue, "it seems we are almost out of class. You know what you need Tuesday, be sure to bring it. And I will see you then." It is 20 seconds from the bell. The moment hits... and the bell does not ring. Oh shit... I have no idea what's happening. The moments continue, and the bell still does not ring. Damn... these kids need to get out of here while I still have control. The moments pass, and I stare at the board in front of me, not looking at the kids, who are not moving. 3 minutes go by, and I see another hand go up. I decide I must answer him... though in heinsight, I probably should have let it go. "Yes" I say. "Where IS the music coming from?" I pause a moment, look around, and say "...I'm not sure." They all laugh. I can't help but smile. More silent moments. I'm about to let them go, but I decide one more fun game is in order. So amidst the silence, as they look around, bored and confused, I suddenly SLAM my hands on my podium. I see 5 kids jump out of their skin, one even shrieks. "NOW I HAVE A QUESTION FOR YOU!" I shout. They all stare at me, a few laugh, for good reason. And there is a knock on the door. It's Ernman, a senior from the cross country team. I let him come in. "Umm... are you guys still in here for fourth period?" "Yes we are Ernman" I say. "Ok, well it's over... the bells aren't ringing." "Thank you sir, we'll just take one more minute." He leaves, and I turn to the class to finish the question I posed myself to ask. "Does anyone KNOW who the artist of this music is?" A few hands go up. I call on laughing kid. "Bach?" "Not quite, but close." I call on another kid. "Beethoven?" "Yes sir! Ludwig van Beethoven. And on THAT NOTE, you are dismissed. Thank you gentlemen, it's been a pleasure, and I will see you Tuesday." They scuffle away. Some diverting looks... few look at me, but I can tell they are ready to challenge me in the upcoming days. Yet that facade was merely the first day facade. It will change every day! Endless characters to be... I see that teaching is no more than acting! And it is great. I pack up my things, and seniors walk into the room to grab their lunches. One comes over to me. "So word on the street is there is no laughing in your class. Is this true?" I smile a bit. "Well... the word on the street always says funny things... so we'll see" I say. "Crack the whip" he says. I make the motion of doing so, and depart into the future of my teaching endeavors.

So the first day was a grand fun adventure to say the least. I couldn't stop thinking about the classes for a while after. I can tell it's going to be a great time. Quite a challenge, without a doubt, but a great time. I realize I need to show that I am confident, I know what I'm doing, and I won't take bullshit. I hope I showed at least some of that through my ridiculous first day performance. I hope you have enjoyed, and I will post new words upon the next great adventure!

New beginnings...

Hello to all who have come to this blog upon this great moment,

Thank you for visiting me and my thoughts. I only hope I can communicate all the abstract crazy thoughts that go through my head moment by moment, giving you a bit of a glimpse into the current whereabouts of this stage of my life.
I'll be honest with you, this will not be filled with a ton of concrete situational endeavors, save that I find myself in situations that cannot pass without being noted. I will, however, assure you that my always changing consciousness will be honest with you as I progress.
So let me tell you. I arrived at Rockhurst High School in Kansas City MO on Saturday, August 7th. It is now 5 days after that. And I must say, it has been some of the craziest 5 days of my life. Non stop action. I begin teaching tomorrow, Friday the 13th (wow I just realized that... aawesome), and I have a few ideas of what I will do to the students on this first day. I will be sure to let you know what I do when I do it, but for now, I will leave you with the idea that I will add mercilessly to their Freshman fear and uncertainty, for as one of my Spanish teaching colleagues has informed me, Freshman are not at a level in which they  know the difference between fear and respect.
Ya, I've had non stop meetings for 4 days, but that's the boring stuff. The cool stuff is what you want to hear. So check this out- I am officially "Coach Lawlor" for the Cross Country team. I started coaching on Monday evening, and I have been at all practices since. We're running 2 a days, at 6am and 7pm (because of the intense heat/humidity), and on Tuesday, I did both runs with the kids to come down to their level and connect more to the terrible and incredible pain of cross country practices that I remember briefly from so long ago. Long story short, I ran over 10 and a half miles with them that day, did an hour of lunges, pushups, abs, and other calisthenics, and reached a point of exhaustion I hadn't in quite some time. But it was fantastic. I ran 7 miles in the morning and felt like a million bucks. Getting back in shape is feeling beautiful and coming at a great time as I enter into this new experience of the unknown.
Time for a little philosophical reflection on running. Running is the perfect metaphor, because it is one of the only activities that is perfectly intertwined with the metaphor it represents. Let me explain. In times of trouble, we are often encouraged by others to "run through the pain" or "run through the walls," or even "run through these streets," a direct line from the song Half Light I on Arcade Fire's new album The Suburbs (which I am listening to now interestingly enough, and which you should get ASAP if you prize spirituality and life in general.) The metaphor can be found in much poetry. Well, when one physically runs as a cross country runner does, one is truly and physically running through true and physical pain. Yet along with that physical pain is the mental anguish that ensues when one becomes aware of the pain. So while we runners are running through the physical pain, we are simultaneously running through the abstract pain we inflict upon ourselves in our minds. We run against ourselves, and as we run, we become stronger, for we continuously push ourselves through the walls that lay all around us at all times. Getting up and chugging a coffee for that boost is not the greatest method, for it is a temporary fix- the walls around invade soon after the buzz wears off. But running can become a lifestyle, a lifestyle in which one is constantly charging through all obstacles he or she is faced with and become a stronger and better person each time.
Pardon that long unanticipated and rambling reflection. Thank you for still reading if you are still here. I will not keep you longer for now. I will only tell you that I forsee a fantastic year of growth in spirituality, strength, and character, and I am excited for all the amazing opportunities arising in all directions. I hope that all of you are great, and I assure you I have not and will NEVER forget all you have given me in this crazy journey of my life. I love you all so much, and I realize I am nothing without all you have so graciously and humbly offered me throughout my time on earth with you. I cannot wait until our next meeting, until our paths cross in the crazy intertwined spider web of concurrent existence, and I promise to update you as often as possible with the current whereabouts of my traveling perspective.
With love and peace from KC,
Sean

The river of eternity moves forward into the endless distance... ride its mysterious stream, and become one with its everlasting source...