socratesunderground.com
What’s in a Name? – Socrates Underground
https://socratesunderground.com/2015/08/15/whats-in-a-name
Often irreverent, sometimes insightful thoughts about education. Resources: Lessons and Materials. The Other Side of the Desk. Who am I, Anyway? What’s in a Name? August 15, 2015. October 11, 2015. I am Mrs. Rains. At work, I am Mrs. Rains. Even among ourselves, the faculty tend to refer to each other as Mr., Mrs., or Coach. Heaven forfend that students should find out that we have first names! I am Tracey Rains. Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window). Share on Facebook (Opens in new window).
wordshavecolor.com
values and spirituality |
https://wordshavecolor.com/category/essay-2/writing-loving-essay/writing-loving/values-and-spirituality
Category Archives: values and spirituality. September 16, 2016. I do not weep at the world. I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife. Zora Neale Hurston. We sharpened our knives. Not for oysters, but fish. In creating a meal, Daddy made it up as he went along, singing or whistling most of the time. His resonant bass seemed almost too big for our tiny apartment; it saturated the walls of the small kitchen along with the smell of hot sauce and onions. While I frowned, my mother, an exemplary cook accustome...
wordshavecolor.com
Writing from the heart |
https://wordshavecolor.com/category/essay-2/writing-loving-essay/writing-loving/writing-from-the-heart
Category Archives: Writing from the heart. September 16, 2016. I do not weep at the world. I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife. Zora Neale Hurston. We sharpened our knives. Not for oysters, but fish. In creating a meal, Daddy made it up as he went along, singing or whistling most of the time. His resonant bass seemed almost too big for our tiny apartment; it saturated the walls of the small kitchen along with the smell of hot sauce and onions. While I frowned, my mother, an exemplary cook accustomed...
socratesunderground.com
Hold on Just a Minute! – Socrates Underground
https://socratesunderground.com/2015/07/25/hold-on-just-a-minute-2
Often irreverent, sometimes insightful thoughts about education. Resources: Lessons and Materials. The Other Side of the Desk. Who am I, Anyway? Hold on Just a Minute! July 25, 2015. Uh, what do you mean I’m not immortal? This is news to me. I’m forty-eight years old, and I still eat bacon; that’s right, bacon. And not just any old bacon, an amazing hickory-smoked bacon called Benton’s Bacon. It is so heavenly that it can’t be hurting me, right? This particular loss of innocence came with a certain freed...
wordshavecolor.com
Life Stories |
https://wordshavecolor.com/category/life-stories
Category Archives: Life Stories. Bring Me a Cup. May 21, 2016. 8220; Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. Marcel Proust, 1871 – 1922. On the Web and in social media, you can’t throw a tomato in any direction without hitting a food writer. There are. I once thought it was about the food. Now, I know better. It’s about relationships. Bring me a cup of water. Can I have a glass of water, Grandmother? I’m back to the beginning&#...
wordshavecolor.com
essay |
https://wordshavecolor.com/tag/essay
September 16, 2016. I do not weep at the world. I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife. Zora Neale Hurston. We sharpened our knives. Not for oysters, but fish. Ms Hurston’s words seemed to be my father’s modus operandi. At 6’3’ , 200-plus pounds and muscular, Daddy commanded the attention of everyone around him. The world busied itself with issues of poverty, race, war, and class, things that affected our segregated lives directly. Eating together as family offered respite. While I frowned, my mother, ...
wordshavecolor.com
provincialism |
https://wordshavecolor.com/tag/provincialism
On: Rethinking “Provincial”. June 28, 2015. If we’re lucky, we receive a kind of grace a mercy or blessing you might say that helps us let go of old, limited views, so that we can see how our biased loyalties harm ourselves as well as others. Today, I feel lucky. This morning, as I sip tea and watch hawks circle the air in search of something that died in the night, I’m reflecting on my limited understanding of provincialism. My perceived open-mindedness of urban sophistication is gone. Are they the blue...
wordshavecolor.com
Opinions |
https://wordshavecolor.com/tag/opinions
February 16, 2016. I’ve been reflecting on the differences between pity, sympathy, empathy, and compassion for a long, long time. Today, I’m stepping aside from my kitchen and baked salmon to explore the murky waters of that soul sucking scoundrel: Pity. God, we must lose the pity. It’s been a difficult lesson to learn. I sensed that this person, rather than being a real friend, saw me as needy, a person in dire need of charity. And, perhaps in the beginning, when I was so blindsided by my condit...Anoth...
wordshavecolor.com
Commentary |
https://wordshavecolor.com/category/essay-2/writing-loving-essay/writing-loving/commentary
May 13, 2016. Pause The deliciously blue sky where you are. The color of the sea at your favorite vacation spot. A calming color. I have done just that over the last three months. As I review W.O.R.D.S. and how it can transition and grow, I have taken a–pause. The stories remain, and yet, I, inside have changed. A new post with new stories is coming in a week. In the meantime, think about–pause. Writing from the heart. October 31, 2015. Are you giving that to a homeless shelter? A women’s halfway house?
wordshavecolor.com
On: Rethinking “Provincial” |
https://wordshavecolor.com/2015/06/28/on-rethinking-provincial
On: Rethinking “Provincial”. June 28, 2015. If we’re lucky, we receive a kind of grace a mercy or blessing you might say that helps us let go of old, limited views, so that we can see how our biased loyalties harm ourselves as well as others. Today, I feel lucky. This morning, as I sip tea and watch hawks circle the air in search of something that died in the night, I’m reflecting on my limited understanding of provincialism. My perceived open-mindedness of urban sophistication is gone. Are they the blue...
