Beginnings

The Tuesday Haiku is dedictated to my new set of students for this spring semester.  Enjoy!


A sea of bookbags.
Anxious faces await me.
Their stories are shared.

Class Distinction

Yet again, HIStory classifies the four years one spends in high school and college.  Let's take a look for a moment, shall we?

Freshman - By far, the worst offender of the distinctions.  Broken down into its base component these words are fresh and man.  Fresh is okay as this means new.  Entering one's first year of schooling is a new event.  But, man?  What happened to the female population in school?  It does exist.  In fact, at TU, women outnumber men on campus.  I refuse to refer to my students by this word.  To me, they are known as my 'freshies.'

Sophomore - Greek etymology of the word denotes an oxymoron as it means wise and foolish.  So, which is it?  Is a second-year student prudent or imprudent?  I would like to think that having accomplished that first year would make one wiser than the year before. 

Junior - A substandard attribute at best.  As a junior, one is never considered first rate.  Too, tacking the word on the back end of a proud papa's son's name allegedly denotes the degree to which a man is a man's man -- one that would make his father swell with pride.  In actuality, junior is rather inferior, so can a son truly measure up?

Senior - the all-being, most important, high-ranking word.  Allegedly, being a senior male is the epitome of  superiority. This shows the world that this man was first born and now his offspring will bear his name.  What does this word have to do with a college-year ranking?  Ever wonder why senior and senility are so closely related?  Note the first four letters; they are identical.

I say we make a case to eradicate these purported distinctions.  One could simply be in his or her first year, second year, and so forth with the anticipated awareness that this may need some re-thinking if one finds himself or herself on the 10-year plan. 

What's a Queen to Do?

So many choices.
Flats, boots, and pickle-stabbers.
Enticing me so.


*sigh*  I crave a larger closet.

Punitive Measures

A local elementary school here in Baltimore held a pep rally yesterday.  This was, of course, in support of our hometown Ravens traveling to New England for the upcoming championship game on Sunday.

An email was sent to parents stating that if children did not wear either purple clothing or Ravens 'gear,' they could not participate in the rally and would be shuttled to the library. 

I found this interesting since the library certainly should never be considered a form of punishment.  Not only that, Baltimore's slogan years ago was "The City That Reads."

Fortitude

The Tuesday Hiaku is written for and dedicated to that gifted and gentle man.

A dream not fulfilled.
There is still much to be done.
Will things ever change?

Je pense young; donc, je suis.

To be young always.
No wrinkles, no grays, no aches.
Energy abounds.

A Bitter Pill Indeed...

I stumbled upon a captivating article this morning.  A sizable pharmaceutical company is recalling several of its medications.  Those listed were Excedrin, NoDoz, and Gas-X. 

If you find yourself requiring these meds but can not take them, I deduce this means your head may possibly burst from pain.  Perhaps you will not realize this pain or the fact that you are breaking wind since you will be asleep from a lack of caffeine.  Just make sure that you are alone, or at least that no one is down wind, when this occurs. 

Ringing It In (Tuesday Haiku)

Dancing and drinking.
Celebratory kisses.
Happy twenty twelve!