saturday night musings...

I think I can imagine what it might be like to lose a limb. To feel the presence of something after it is gone.Like a ghost--present in some ambiguous form--there just enough to remind you of what was, yet absent in the most vital way. The limb, untenable and poisonous is still a precious sacrifice. Cut it away and start again.

interview with a vampire slayer...and her friends

Since I am on summer break from school I am doing summer cleaning and organizing. Now that I am teaching I suspect summertime will be my catch all opportunity for accomplishments. Anyway, dusting my DVD collection I decided it was time to view the Buffy the Vampire Slayer TV series again. I forgot how much I enjoy this show and found an old paper I wrote while in adolescent development class.

The relationship between pop-culture and psychology is a rich one. Literature, music, motion pictures and television have been explored by psychologists and presented as examples of psychology and human behavior. The enormous popularity of vampire mythology, especially among adolescents, deserves special attention. Anne Rice's Interview with a Vampire, the many incarnations of Bram Stoker's Dracula, the tween and teen phenomenon that is Stephanie Meyer's Twilight and the Joss Whedon's Buffy the Vampire Slayer are a few examples of pop-cultures obsession with the vampire. Vampires are powerful, dangerous, seductive, immature and vulnerable, and thus much like adolescents themselves. Set in high school, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BTVS) is uniquely suited to illustrate the adolescent challenges inherent in the vampire genre.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer offers a continuing journey through classic challenges faced by adolescents with humor, sarcasm and real emotion all within the backdrop of gothic romance and horror. The series begins with Buffy, a 16-year-old white, middle-class teenager typical in her appearance, language and interests, moving to Sunnydale, California after being expelled from her Los Angeles high school for burning down the gymnasium along with a group of vampires. Sunnydale High is built atop a Hellmouth—literally gateway to Hell—a portal to demonic dimensions that attracts a plethora of demons, vampires and supernatural phenomena to the town. On her first day at Sunnydale High, Buffy, the hopefully retired slayer meets her new watcher, Rupert Giles, also the school librarian, who quickly becomes a surrogate father to Buffy. A core group of friends who know Buffy’s identity as the Slayer aids Buffy and Giles in their war against vampires.

This core of friends includes Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris, Cordelia Chase and Oz, Willow’s boyfriend, a brilliant, yet understated rock musician and sometimes werewolf. Willow has a MENSA IQ and is shy and sweet. Xander is unfocused and use his sharp-tongued wit to hide self-disappointment and fears of failure. Cordelia is a wealthy, popular member of the in crowd who is seemingly superficial, but at times exhibits a selflessness and maturity beyond her years. She reluctantly participates in the Slayer’s gang and is alternately horrified by and attracted to the socially outcast Xander. The relationship between Cordelia and Xander offers viewers a classic example of the powerful effect of peer group dynamics. Succumbing to pressure from her circle of popular friends, Cordelia breaks up with Xander because of his poor background and low social standing. Cordelia, realizing that she is merely falling in line with what others expect, declares her independence, “…I am not a sheep and I’ll date whoever I want, no matter how lame he is” (Bewitched, bothered and bewildered, 1998). Erikson maintains that identity is developed through social interactions (Muuss, 1996). In the high school arena, the peer group dynamic provides much of the social interaction for identity development; it is an integral element in the development of adolescent identity.

BTVS is gripping in its depiction of themes of adolescent development. Buffy’s role as the Slayer; her responsibility to save the world from vampires seems a metaphor for the sense of power and control the adolescent feels. In the adolescent’s world, where the sun rises and sets just for them, a teenage girl who has the power to save the world—or not, seems an excellent metaphor for the egocentricity of the adolescent. Yet Buffy’s failures provide the counterexample that this sense of power is often misplaced and is short-lived at best. She illustrates the adolescent struggle with identity: the Slayer carries the weight of the world on her teenage shoulders and takes her responsibilities as the Slayer seriously; however, she also treats the burden of her destiny with the same disregard as selecting a nail polish color. After a particularly difficult night of slaying, Buffy complains to Giles, “things are getting serious—I broke a nail and am forced to wear a press on” (Prophecy Girl, 1997).

Giles is an important character and represents the adolescent’s desire for a parental figure. Giles acts as a surrogate father to Buffy, she comes to value his leadership, and advice despite that he often forces her to train and develop her skills as a Slayer.

Oz’s character provides a novel approach to the inner struggle between good and bad—the struggle against primitive behavior. Oz is a nice person, but as a werewolf, each month he must struggle against base animal instincts. Locking himself in a cage so he will not harm anyone during his canine excursions seems an obvious metaphor for the control of adolescent drives.

Both Buffy and Xander display resistance behavior and are disengaged from the learning process, though not willfully refusing to learn (Olafson, 2006). Buffy appears distracted by her duties as the Slayer and in retrospect, school seems frivolous and unimportant. Xander’s disengagement seems to stem from a long history of failure and low achievement; he is disengaged from learning because he believes it will have no effect on his future or current circumstances.

Carol Gilligan might describe the shy and quiet Willow as an adolescent female who displays the behavior she describes as going underground (Nakula and Toshalis, 2006). Willow, who is highly intelligent and possesses strong opinions, is plagued by insecurity and reluctance to voice these opinions. A minor character, Jonathon, is a loner, teased and tormented by the in crowd. He is driven to bring a high-powered rifle to school in an attempt to kill himself. This episode, Earshot from 1998 poignantly discusses bullying, isolation and loneliness and what might result from the lack of a peer support group in the high school environment. Michael Kimmel describes how school violence readily occurs even in bucolic, white middle class neighborhoods (Sadowsky, 2003) such as the mythical Sunnydale, California.

The most provocative relationship in the series is Buffy’s romance with Angel. Angel is a 200+ year old vampire with a history of viciously killing innocent people and wreaking havoc all over 19^th century Europe as the evil vampire Angelus. Cursed by gypsies with the return of his soul, he spends the 20^th century suffering guilt and pain for his bloodlust. To make amends for his past, Angel helps the Slayer in her quest to rid the world of vampires. Buffy and Angel fall hopelessly in love, thereby providing an archetypal illustration of fatalistic love. By falling for Angel, Buffy illustrates two common themes in female adolescent development: compensating for a missing father by choosing an older boyfriend and rebelling against her mother and the status quo by dating a bad boy.

Moreover, one cannot miss the irony of a vampire slayer in love with a vampire. Nor is the irony of her relationship with Angel lost on Buffy. She rebukes Giles after he claims to understand how she is feeling, “…you don’t know how it feels to be 16 and the Slayer and having to kill vampires when you are having fluffy bunny feelings for one of them,” (Angel, 1997). Buffy and Angel eventually succumb to their mutual attraction and consummate their relationship, inadvertently removing the gypsy curse and with it Angel’s soul and bringing the brutal Angelus back into being. Buffy suffers the devastating experience that so many young girls have suffered, especially with their first love—give your heart and soul to a man, if not your body as well, and end up being rejected and alone. BTVS poignantly illustrates the sense of loss teens might feel with the loss of a first love. When learning that Angel is leaving Sunnydale, Buffy sobs to Willow that she cannot breathe, the weight of her grief forcing the air from her lungs. Even through the television screen, Buffy’s grief is palpable.

The specific adolescent challenge addressed in episodes of BTYS is often represented in the demon Buffy must fight; for example in an episode about isolation and loneliness, Buffy fights a demon that transfers its ability to read minds to her when she gets the demon’s blood on her skin. Buffy, who often feels a sense of isolation as the Slayer, is now privy to the thoughts of everyone around her. She discovers that each person is experiencing a sense of isolation in some form or another despite what outward appearances might suggest.

Buffy the vampire Slayer has a lot to offer the viewer: some basic adolescent development issues, such as: self-esteem, self-identity, love and sexual relationships, peer envy and feelings of failure. Transitions are highlighted in BTVS through moving, graduation, an absent parent, the death of a parent, running away from home and beginning college. Based on merits of pure entertainment value, BTVS offers drama as satisfying as any classically styled television drama. The television series with its dark, self-deprecating humor treats its themes more seriously and presents a more physically strong and strong-willed Buffy than the motion picture of the same name. Buffy the Vampire Slayer is an hour of TV drama full of jagged jokes and fizzy pop culture references. However, the series also contains unguarded, straightforward, real emotions amidst blithe knowingness and sarcasm; juggling humor, gothic romance and horror like a pro. I would recommend this TV series to both adolescents and parents; in fact, I would suggest that adults watch the show together with their kids. The content and humor is rich and broad enough to appeal to both adults and adolescents alike.

My Main Man

Those of you who are not familiar with me, here is the most important person in my life. Ernie is my nephew whom I have raised since he was 3 months old--he is now 28. Ern is developmentally and physically disabled yet smart and funny and the life of any party.

This picture is of Ernie waiting for a Meet and Greet with kd lang at the Moore Theater in Seattle, Washington. Ern is a huge kd fan and has been to several concerts and met with her a couple of times.

This is backstage at the Moore theater with kd. Ern had everyone laughing and crying with what he had to say. My life is nothing like what I envisioned when in high school--it is something so much more and Ern is the reason. More to come about my Ernman.

By the way, in case anyone is interested, not only does kd lang have an increadible voice, but she is a genuinely nice person as well. She, and all the folks at her management company, have been nothing but terrific with Ernie.

Kodachrome

It was the summer of 1973 and the weather was as perfect as I can ever remember. My sister and I spent the summer playing in our Southern California backyard. We played cowboys and Indians with cowboy and Indian dolls and their horses. The toys had moveable parts and our imaginations would keep us occupied for hours upon end riding through the Old West along the Outlaw Trail. The benches belonging to patio sets served as horses—we would stack them, one upon the other, and pretend to be Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid riding to our escape to the Hole in the Wall. We ran through the lawn sprinkler that my mother set out to beat the summer heat. I remember Paul Simon on the radio singing “Kodachrome” and running to the ice cream truck for a Big Stick popsicle. There is an easiness and laziness during summertime, and more than anything else, I remember the sheer joy of being alive that summer. Awakening to hear the radio announce, “…there’s another hot day in store for the Southland today…”, the happiness of petting my cat, family barbeques in the backyard and falling asleep listening to the hum of the fans and the feel of the breeze sweep over my body.

It has always pleased me that my birthday occurs during the glorious summertime and I distinctly remember the feeling of that July 3 in 1973. I even remember the cutoff shorts, tee shirt and Maui style flip-flops I wore that day. It was a feeling of comfort and contentment the likes of which I have felt only sporadically since that summer. My mother and grandmother took me out to lunch to Bob’s Big Boy Diner and had a cheeseburger and a cherry coke. Everyone in the diner sang happy birthday to me and I felt special and happy.

It was at the end of the summer of 1973 that I remember feeling child-like and innocent for the last time. Although I was barely eleven years old, my mother chose this time of my life to confide in me about the difficulties of being a single parent, the struggles of divorce and the strife of everyday life. I wondered why she chose to reveal the details of her life to me despite the fact that my sister was older. In retrospect, I believe that she recognized the early bloom of inner strength that would serve me well throughout my lifetime. This event was monumental in many ways, with ramifications for several areas of my life. Naturally, the dynamics of the relationship with my mother were forever changed, but it also caused difficulties between my sister and I that have taken a lifetime to repair. Even at the time, I was acutely aware that the innocence of childhood was lost to me—the simple enjoyment of cowboys and Indians and popsicles was gone forever.

This loss of innocence also affected my attitude toward and my experience in school. I was always a good student and learning came easily to me. However, after the summer of 1973, school became more than a place to learn for me. It also served to fill the void created by the loss of my childhood. School was a sanctuary of sorts; a place where I need not think about the difficulties of maintaining a household on a limited budget or how to find an affordable attorney to collect thirteen years of unpaid child support. I reveled in the sheer joy of being around other kids and sharing our girlish secrets. I wondered if that certain boy would sit next to me at lunch again rather than if there was enough money left to purchase this week’s groceries. At school, I could simply be a kid, the same as any other. While many students were finding ways to look older, act older and play at being adult, I happily put all such thoughts away and enjoyed going to school. Each day I could pretend that I knew nothing about the difficulties of life. I did not feel guilty that I required expensive eyeglasses nor did I worry about how to pay for them.

My desire to escape the pressures of the adult world eventually led to a genuine interest in excelling in education and the desire for academic success. In junior high school, I found myself enjoying school in a new way; attending honors classes, writing for the school newspaper and immersing myself in academics. One day in English class the teacher, Mrs. Wald, asked me a question regarding "Flowers for Algernon,” the book the class was reading. After listening to my answer, Mrs. Wald asked me to stay after class. Certain I was in trouble, I tried to forget to remain after class, but Mrs. Wald was adamant. In a pleasant voice that appeared at odds with her stern expression, she told me that I was smart and should go to college. I mentioned that college was not an option, as my mother could never afford to send any of her children to college. While I had realized that the best way to escape the cycle of poverty I was living in was a college education, I never thought I would be able to attend college. In my neighborhood, girls of poor families did not attend college. Immediately after high school graduation, they started working or were married. I envisioned a lifetime as a bank teller and a wife, but certainly could not imagine a future that included a college education. Mrs. Wald was so passionate in her opinion that I deserved a college education that I began to believe in the possibility of obtaining one. In my first year of high school, I learned about scholarships, community college and other options that were available, even for economically disadvantaged students. From that moment on, I never lost the belief in my ability to make it college nor the words and the woman who inspired them.

The summer of 1973 remains a significant marker in my life. It represents both the carefree joy of childhood and the promise of the future that resulted from the loss of the same childhood. In retrospect, it seems that I made lemonade from a pile of lemons, though at the time I was merely trying to survive as best as I could; trying to cling to a part of childhood that I was not ready to lose.

A Catholic School Girl...Again

Now that I have some spare time I have been writing down some of the ideas rolling around in my head. Here is the beginning of the 1st:

I hate orientations. They are boring and always seem to be geared towards people with miniscule IQs. Although, this was my first job in the teaching profession, it was not my first job, and the thought of listening to some blowhole explain the obvious to me for 8 hours made me want to shove toothpicks under my fingernails—or vote republican—I am not sure which would be more painful. Why couldn’t I just start with my students? Kids, I loved. I often felt like a mother to a 100 or so teenagers and enjoyed every minute of it. I struggled to keep my eyes open while the human resources manager for the Saint Raymond Catholic Church and School in Seattle droned on about payroll, school rules, teacher responsibilities, and the like. There was no coffee in the small room where the orientation was held. How did they expect people to pay attention at boring orientations without providing the vital element of coffee? I mentally kicked myself in the butt for passing the several Starbucks located between my house and St. Raymond’s. It was the end of summer and the pumpkin spice latte had just arrived on the menu. Did the human resources manager just say “double tall soy?” I shook my head to clear my mind of coffee flavored dreams.

As the man droned on about paperwork and schedules, I let myself wonder what I was doing here at a catholic school. I was not a practicing catholic—not for about 10 years. Though I was raised in the Catholic Church being baptized, making my First Communion and Confirmation, even receiving my undergraduate degree in biology from a Jesuit University, I gave up the Catholic Church over 10 years ago for the practice of an ancient Irish Pagan tradition. My mother would have disowned me if she had not died of breast cancer 4 years prior. As it was, my aunt and cousin were so worried for my eternal soul that they prayed daily for my return to the church. I made a mental note to call them and tell them of my new job—perhaps that would ease some of their worry. Yet here I was a teacher at a catholic school. Would the principal, a nun, think me a spy for the “other team” if she found out I was not a practicing catholic?

I was surprised when the school approached me the previous spring about teaching math and science at their high school. As a teacher, the mission of their mathematics department—mathematics belongs to everyone—appealed to me, but I also wanted to teach at a well-rounded school. One that had a full fine arts program: drama, music, choir, and a marching band; a high school was not a high school without a marching band. It pleased me that during these tough economic times, St. Raymond’s refused to make budget cuts to their arts program and their band was rocking it at every football game, basketball game and parade.

Human Resources manager-guy announced it was break time. At last...he was my new hero. I leapt from my seat to search for the coffee pot or coffee machine—isn’t each building in Seattle required to have at minimum one source of coffee? I imagined myself like a vampire thirsting for her next victim. Rounding a corner in the main office, I encountered the scent of my victim. I followed the trail until I spied my prey—a shiny stainless steel monster perched on the counter and filling the room with the delicious aroma of java. Filling a cup, I breathed in the aroma of the dark brew and took a sip. I could not stop the smile that spread across my face at the deep and rich flavor of the coffee. Someone here knew how to make a proper cup of coffee.

“First cup of the day?” I was jolted by the sound of his voice and turned to look at the man sitting at one of the several round tables in what I now noticed must be a staff lounge.

“Yes,” I said, my euphoria over the taste of the coffee evident in my voice.

at the end

Today I am at the end of the education program. The program was intense and required such a great amount of my time that I thought of little else. Now I am a teacher and finally have the graduate degree has been escaping me for so very long. Well, onward from here...