good news and other news

So, I don't think it's on the website or anything yet, but my poem "The Birds I Like Best Most Others Despise" will be in The Portland Review Issue 54 #3. I mentioned this before, but didn't know when it would be out, and now I know that it will be out in May. You can buy it at local bookstores in Portland, or from The Portland Review directly.

I also just learned that I've won the first place PSU WEGO award for poetry, which was judged by B.T. Shaw, editor of The Oregonian's poetry column. The winning poem is called "What Passes For Yes In Hangul Sounds Like The English No." So, that's exciting.

I'm still crossing my fingers for this year's Kellogg Awards, also in May. I was a finalist for the Shelley Reece Award in poetry last year, but am hoping to any and all gods that I win this year, since that would pretty much be awesome and also comes with a nice check, which would be very, very useful, since I have to move off-campus once I graduate and currently have no money. Hmm. A writer/grad student who teaches has no money? Shocking, I know.

In other news, I had my first blow up in the classroom on Wednesday (a student, not me, just to be clear), replete with a dramatic exit and a door slam. The angst addled inner teen that still resides within me was duly impressed, but other than that the whole thing was sort of depressing. I really do take what I do seriously and strive to create a safe, encouraging space for my students to grow and exchange and explore, but part of that growth requires examining what we do closely, i.e. criticism (which should not be confused with being negative or crapping all over somebody's work).

But, it would seem this student did not see it that way and has ultimately dropped the class. I already sent an email to this effect, but I do wish her the best. Tomorrow I will go back to class and resume workshopping and discussing and generally having a good time with my students and hopefully the echo of that slamming door will have completely subsided. Still, I suppose the whole experience is one to learn from and will make for a good story one day, by all accounts.

where was I?

Well, clearly it has been a while since I've updated this thing... I've been back from Korea for a while now, back in school, back to teaching. I'm spending more time thinking about how language shapes reality than complaining about kimchi. I never got around to writing about how amazing the buddhist temple stay was, or the bowing ceremony (108, well, 115 to be exact) of forgiveness I participated in, or the one American monk who only spoke once, when I inquired about a particular sauce, to say, "you put it on your noodles!" I probably won't get around to writing much more about Korea... not here anyway, but for those of you who were wondering, yes, I loved the teaching. The kids were amazing and I loved every minute at camp. The gender dynamics were, on the whole, difficult to watch, but was less difficult at camp since they were still mostly just acting like kids and all of that other stuff hadn't entirely taken hold yet. Maybe I'll write about that more at some point. I don't know. I just thought I should say something. And with that, back to my class to discuss how one effectively writes about violence.

post in which the poet wonders

How is it that a whole school year has passed already? It seems not so very long ago I was freaking out about teaching composition and now I feel like an old pro. I'd also like to know where, oh where, have all the good apartments gone? Buster would very much like it if I could find him an outside to be a part of again. Minou, of course, doesn't really care so long as there is food available.

So, these are my challenges: lesson planning for a four week accelerated version of the class I taught in the fall; finding a fabulous apartment and moving myself and all my necessary stuff into it (I'm working so hard to get rid of the unnecessary stuff); a big publicity push at work; and planning for Korea.

The poet would now like a nap. For about a month. But will settle for unlimited massages and a few glasses of wine. And perhaps some fresh flowers from the farmers' market.