Teaching English Overseas

For those college graduates
Who speak English
As a native language,
There are opportunities
To live and work overseas
In almost every
Non-English speaking country
In the world.
There is a huge demand
Because in most countries,
Speaking English is viewed as
A prerequisite for a good job.
In times of recession
And high unemployment,
Knowing how to speak English
Becomes essential.
Students are desperate to learn
And language schools
Are sprouting up
Almost everywhere.
Host country nationals
Who teach English
Often stress grammar
Above practical usage,
So students tend to learn the rules,
But not how to speak.
Native English speakers
Are in high demand
Because they can naturally
Teach students
To converse fluently in English.
Some people manage to
Land teaching positions
Without any teaching credentials,
Which is how I got started
Teaching English overseas.
Generally, however,
Some form of
Teaching certification is required.
The are many TEFL
(Teaching English as
A Foreign Language)
Certification programs available.
Courses are available
Both in classroom settings
And on-line,
With the on-line courses
Being considerably cheaper.
Basic certification
Can be obtained
For as little as
One hundred ninety dollars.
In addition to basic certification,
There are also
Specialized certifications
For teaching young students
And for teaching business English.
Obviously, the more
Certifications one has,
The better prospects
One should have
In landing a good position.
The pay you receive
Is usually quite low
By American standards,
But often sufficient
To live quite well in country.
There can be
A substantial difference in pay
Between working
In the nations key cities
And outlying areas.
Most schools have
A two to three month
Summer vacation
Which should give you
Time to travel
And see the rest of the country.
Most of the time,
There is no necessity
Or requirement to speak
The local language,
In fact, it can be a benefit
Not speaking the local language.
It forces the students
To use English
When conversing with you.
Most of the time,
Teaching positions are obtained
When you are already
Located in the country
In which you want to teach.
This makes it far easier
For you to interview them,
And for them to interview you.
Each country has
Their own rules and regulations
Applicable to teaching
And working within the country.
Generally the school
Will walk you through
The paperwork required
For you to legally teach
In that country.
Some teachers will choose to
Offer private tutoring
To supplement their teaching salary.
Generally the TEFL school
Will assist you in finding placement
And will advise you
On the best way to secure a position,
And on what salary
You should expect
In a particular location.
I have taught in Turkey,
And have met people
Who have taught English
In Vietnam, China and Thailand.
Many people seem to love
Their teaching experience,
And it is often
Far less stressful
Then corporate jobs
Back here in America.
I have met several
American English teachers
Who have left seventy to eighty
Thousand dollar/year
Corporate positions
To teach English overseas,
Who fell in love with the job
And the freedom it offered.

Architectural Chronology

Out for a pleasant
Sunday morning stroll
On an remarkably cool
Mid summer day,
We zigzag our way
Through some of the
Older residential areas
Of San Jose, California,
Observing the various
Architectural eras represented.
The oldest place we passed
Was vintage 1890
Adobe brick house,
But there are a lot
Of the Queen Anne
Victorian style houses
From the 1900 – 1910 era.
Some are badly in need
Of care and maintenance,
But others have been
Renovated and repainted
To look stunningly beautiful.
Each decade seems to have
A recognizable style
Distinctly different from
That of the previous decade
As well as from
The decade that follows.
My least favorite houses
Are probably the ones
Build during the 50's and 60's,
For they seem to have
The least character
Of any period represented.
It is the tremendous variety
Of residences
That contribute enormously to
The flavor of this city.

San Jose Victorian Architecture

I have enjoyed
Many a pleasant stroll
Along the streets
Of San Jose, California
Eying the numerous
Victorian style homes
Nestled in amongst
The houses and buildings
From later periods of time.
I like the Queen Anne style
With its lacy, ornamental
Eastlake structural details.
These houses are generally
Circa 1870 to 1910,
And a lot of them
Have have withstood
The ravages of time
And abusive neglect
Fairly well, and some
Have been renovated
And transformed into
Law offices or
Historical show pieces.
One thing is for sure,
A little detailed paintwork
Does wonders in emphasizing
The character of those old houses.
It will take a lot more than paint
To renovate most of them though.
All the plumbing,
Electrical work would
Have to be replaced,
And insulation would have to be
Added throughout.
Since much of the woodwork
Would also have to be replaced,
There is very little of
The original structure
That could be kept.
Renovating one of those
Elderly homes
Is a whole lot more work
Than I care to take on,
But I am glad there are
People out there
With the finances, stamina
And willpower
To carry through
Such monumental projects.
I don't think
I would ever want to
Live in one of them,
Since the room sizes
Tend to be too small
For my taste,
But those old homes
Have a classical character
Well worth preserving.

Hut Tub Round Table

There is something magical
In the way a hot tub
Acts to breaks the ice
And lubricate the tongues
Of a group of strangers
Who chance to meet
Within its bubbling waters.
Perhaps it's an integral part
Of the California spirit,
Or at least of
The apartment complex
In which we dwell.
There are seven of us
Soaking in the pool,
And no one is from
Around these parts,
Mostly from diverse corners
Of the planet.
There is a guy from Morocco,
One from Macedonia,
Another from Armenia
And still another
From some place in India.
There is a girl from Mexico
A guy from Afghanistan
And then there is me
Who came here via
Turkey and Iraq.
What we have is a melting pot
Of people from all over,
Some young, college aged,
And a couple of us
What I would call
Middle aged!
We talked philosophy,
Dabbled in politics,
Even broached religion,
Plied the muddy waters
Of ancient history,
And aired our thoughts
Without trying to convince
Anybody of anything.
It was an oral free-for-all,
And I loved it.
It is fun sometimes to sit back
And converse about life.
I don't do that often enough
As far as I am concerned.
Usually I am just
Too busy living life
To slow down, mellow out,
And enjoy comparing notes
With others on exactly
What it is to be human.
This is as good a time to start,
I suppose, as any.

Noisy Neighborhood

In the English language class
I was teaching in Turkey,
I was querying the students about
Complaints they had
Regarding the neighborhoods
Where they lived.
We are all human beings,
After all,
And when we are cramped in
Close proximity to each other,
Something or someone
Is bound to rub us
The wrong way.
One guy complained
That his neighborhood
Was too noisy,
And he couldn't get any sleep.
He had dark circles
Around his eyes to prove it!
On further questioning
I found out that his wife and him
Just had their first baby
A couple months before,
So I immediately realized
Where the noise was coming from.
It was his house that was noisy,
And I surmised that
He probably wasn't
Wasn't the only one
Complaining about the noise.

In for a Rude Awakening

The girl is pregnant
With her first baby,
And has it all planned out
How it is going to be.
Handling the baby
Will be no problem,
She insists.
Her husband and her
Are very efficient!
Besides she states,
“All the baby does
The first year is sleep!”
I chuckled thinking to myself,
How little of the time
Will actually be spent sleeping,
Either for baby or parents.
She has no idea
What it will be like
Being transformed into a zombie
For the first year.
A new baby tends to be devoid of
Respect for parental efficiency,
And generally lays waste
To even the best made plans.
Then she tells me how
Her husband is working full time
And going to night school
To get his master's degree,
And I think to myself,
A lot of help he is going to be!
I wonder how much studying
He will get done
When he finally gets home each night
After work and school.
She is also working full time
And plans on returning to work
Almost immediately after
The baby is born,
Financial pressures being what they are.
She has no idea how much
Her perspective is bound to change,
All because of that baby.
She doesn't have any relatives
Conveniently close either,
So who is going to look after
The baby while she is at work?
Rather than rain on her parade,
Or be a proverbial profit of doom,
I walk off shaking my head,
Wondering if I was ever that naive.
Isn't first time motherhood awesome!
I have a sneaking suspicion
She and her husband
Are in for a major attitude adjustment.
They are about to undertake one of
Most difficult jobs in the world.
Sure, it is worth it,
If you survive the initiation.

A Most Imprudent Lad

He was young,
Fresh out of college,
Single, and bound to
Stay that way for a while.
It didn't seem to matter to him
That the group of us
Were co-workers meeting
In a public restaurant,
Or that half of those present
Were women.
Sex was on his mind
And the only topic
He he apparently deemed
Worthy of conversation.
Once he got started,
Whatever restraint
He might normally have had
Quickly vanished
As he boasted of
His sexual exploits
And pontificated
His thoughts on the subject.
He told us where,
In his opinion,
The most beautiful
And promiscuous women
Could be found.
He mixed this
With reference to
A survey he had conducted
Of the local strip clubs
And massage parlors.
I have met plenty of guys before
Who had similar one-tract minds,
Especially when a bit lubricated,
But this guy was sober.
He obviously had no respect
For any of the females present,
Or perhaps he was
Trying to taunt them.
He topped all that off
With the comment that he was
Going to Palm Springs
For a weekend
With his girl friend,
And we all wondered
What kind of girl
Could put up with
A guy like him.
He somehow managed
To fulfill every
Negative stereotype
Of how guys think
That a woman,
Frustrated with
Male-female relationships
Might entertain
During the course of that meal.

Undercover Beggar

Deep in the heart of Istanbul
A police officer
Was assigned to work undercover
Disguised as a beggar
To observe criminal activity
Near a particular corner.
After three months at his
Assigned begging station,
The stakeout was completed
And the criminals
He had been watching
Were apprehended.
The problem was that
That the policeman
Discovered he could make
Much more money as a beggar
Than he did as a policeman.
So he quit the police force
And returned to the corner full time
As a self employed beggar.
A local news service
Got a hold of the story
And had a field day with it.
As you might imagine
With the economy
In dire straights
And unemployment
At an all time high,
This resulting in a plethora
Of new copycat beggars.

Introduction to the Barracuda

“Don't let her appearance
Fool you!” I was told.
“She can be ruthless
When she wants to be,
Especially if someone
Crosses her path,
Or tries to waste her time
With stupid questions.
She doesn't take kindly
To air-headed idiots.
She is a smart cookie,
And obviously knows
What she is doing,
And what she wants.
You be straight with her
And she will be
Straight with you as well,
But if you try
To feed her
A line of bullshit,
She'll see through it
In a nanosecond,
And is liable to
Bite your head off.
She has a knack
For cutting a man
Down to size
Who gets in her way
And butchering him alive
With her words.
If provoked,
She can and will
Extract blood
With her tongue.
She will cut you to shreds
Without hesitation
If you are anything
Less than candid with her.”
Then her informative assistant
Smiled and said,
“So go on in and try to sell her
On what you've got!”

Temporary Licenses

I these times when
The majority of marriages
Fail the test of time,
And end up in divorce,
What if we were only
Given a temporary permit,
Or if the first time,
A learners permit
When we decided
To get married?
I wonder how many couples
Would renew
Their vows after
Their permit expired.
If a person was
Married before,
But he or she couldn't
Make it work,
Should they still be able to
Apply for a learner's permit?
I know it is a beautiful thing
When a couple who has been
Married for 20 or 30 years
Decides to renew their vows,
But does that mean
They got married
With a temporary license
In the first place?
Is that the secret
Of what made it work?
I wonder which should
Last longer,
A learner's permit
Or a temporary license.
Maybe part of the secret
Of having a great relationship
Is forever being
In the learning mode.
Maybe what is needed
Is lifetime learners permit!

Certified

When does sanity
Cross the line
Into the realm
Of insanity?
Even the professionals
In the psychiatric field
Probably can't give
A clear answer
To that question.
Just what is sanity?
Is it permanent
Or temporary?
Is it something
We float into
And out of depending
On our mood,
Or the situation
We find ourselves in?
I have heard
Such terms as
Temporary insanity
As an excuse
For some pretty
Crazy acts,
But is there also
Temporary sanity?
Are some people
Lucid occasionally
And certifiably crazy
The rest of the time?
Most of us daydream,
And are very imaginative
In coming up with
Alternative possibilities
To what life is actually like,
But when we drift off
Into a fantasy world
Of our own creation,
Are we sane or insane?
We all get crazy notions
Floating around inside our heads
From time to time,
But generally we don't
Act on those impulses.
Sometimes we do,
And we are apt to
Suffer the consequences.
Is sanity a matter of restraint,
The reluctance to follow through
On our crazier impulses?
Is it a matter of self control?
Is insanity a conformance
To some established norm?
If so, then what is normal?
There are certain things
That drive us crazy,
But at what point
Are we really crazy?
I bring all these questions up
Because I once met a guy
Who carried around
A letter certifying his sanity,
And I thought that was
Pretty darn crazy!
It is difficult enough
For a psychologist
To certify someone as insane,
But how could they
Certify someone as sane,
And is that certification
Temporary or permanent?

Adolescent Power Plays

Most children
Seem to be
Born with
An innate ability
To test the limits
Of their parents
Endurance.
They constantly
Probe to see
What they can
Get away with,
And in the process
They discover
Their parent's
Strong points,
As well as
Their weak points.
For instance,
A common occurrence
Is when a baby
Discovers a particular
Ear piercing scream
That obviously agitates
Its parents.
The baby will then
Use it with
Reckless abandon
Until made to stop
By one of the parents,
Then the other parent
Will be singled out
As the focus
For their vocal performance,
Especially if that parent
Doesn't also puts a stop to it.
The baby quickly learns
When and where
Discipline will be applied,
But equally important
When and where
It won't be as well.
A child may sense
That the parents
Are more restrained
When guests are present,
Or when they are
Out shopping,
And may choose
That opportune moment
To run the show.
The child quickly learns
How to get
What it wants,
And when a parent
Caves in to bad behavior,
They unconsciously
Reinforce the behavior
That annoys them the most.
Sometimes the children
Are well behaved
Around strangers,
But that may be because
They don't yet know
The stranger's limits.
I have seen numerous times
Where the child
Is clearly in control
And runs the household,
For the parents have failed
To set viable limits
To what is, and isn't acceptable.
By the time the child
Enters school, he or she
Is adept at sizing up adults,
And discovering what
He or she can get away with.
A child can easily spot
The new teacher's weaknesses
And will run wild unless
Limits are set immediately.
After all, the kids are
Used to pushing around
Their parents,
So why should any
Other adult be different?

Wacko with Conspiracy Theories

She was a friend of mine
For a number of years,
And I respected her
For her sharp mind
And her generous hospitality,
But I watched
As she slowly drifted
Off the deep end,
Allowing her paranoia
To overwhelm common sense.
She convinced herself that
Behind every happening
Is a conspiracy of evil minded
And devious manipulators
At the highest levels of government.
In her mind,
She saw the assassinations
Of the Kennedy brothers
And Martin Luther King
As blatant conspiracies,
And not as the acts
Of deranged individuals.
She saw the Vietnam War
And the wars against Iraq
As nefarious plots by
Our military-industrial machine
To justify the expense
Of weapons development
For the sole benefit of
Major military contractors.
She also saw the Iraqi conflicts
As the Bush's attempt
To personally take control of
The Kuwaiti and Iraqi oil fields.
Then there was 911
And the attack
On the Twin Towers in New York.
She saw that as
A conspiracy perpetuated by
George Bush and cabinet
To justify the war in Iraq
And in Afghanistan.
Now I can understand
Her mistrust of politicians,
For I don't trust them myself,
But I have witnessed
Too much bungling
And outright incompetency
At all levels of government
To ever believe that anyone
In government or elsewhere
Has both the intelligence
And the ability
As well as the intent
To orchestrate effectively
Something so intensely bizarre.
As I see it, mostly we
Stumble bumble our way along
Largely in reaction to
The things that happen
As opposed to in control
Of what happens.
I see a lot of evil
In the world,
But I just don't see it
As the kind of
Grandiose conspiracies
That she does.

City Slicker

Rick was born
And grew up
In the city,
And was used to
The hustle bustle
Of all kinds of people
Coming and going,
Frantically trying
Trying to get
Someplace quick.
He was single,
And had a small,
But relatively expensive,
Studio apartment
Conveniently located
A couple blocks
From his office,
In the heart of
The downtown area.
Rick walked to work,
And had a choice of
More than a hundred
Different restaurants
Within a ten minutes
Of his place.
It was also within
Walking distance
Of the university
Where he graduated,
And was surrounded by
Theaters, parks, museums
Hotels, fitness centers
Singles bars and discos,
As well as a healthy mix
Of high and low end
Shopping areas.
The area was trendy
And fashionable,
Populated by people
From almost every
Conceivable ethnic persuasion.
He was used to hearing
Six or ten different languages
During the course of a day,
Which added flavor
And an exotic mysticism
To his daily routine.
Public transit was available
All hours of the day,
Perfect for a city
And a young man
On the move.
He thrived on the noise
And the chaos,
And couldn't imagine
Living any other way
Then the way he was.
Life in the suburbs
Was not even in the realm
Of possibilities.
Life in the countryside
Was unimaginable.
His life consisted of
Work, working out,
Eating out, and socializing
Amidst fitful bouts of sleep.
He had occasional thoughts
Of finding someone
To share life with,
But he was having
Too much fun being single
To give that idea
Serious consideration.
Besides, he was still young,
Just twenty-seven years old,
And wasn't really ready
To get tied down yet.
He had had several
Possible encounters with fate
But they hadn't worked out,
Much to his mother's chagrin.
He kept slim and trim,
Unlike his friends
Who had gotten married.
He worked out at the gym
Four or five times a week,
And played basketball,
Baseball and football regularly,
Depending on the season.
On weekends
He frequented the jogging trails,
Often running for miles
Along the trails and parks
That magically intertwined
Throughout the city.
His pad was decorated
For comfort and style,
Elegant but practical.
Fancy enough
To impress almost anyone
If he chose to invite them,
Yet few had witnessed
That side of him.
He actually was
A fairly decent cook,
But never liked
Cooking for himself,
So he almost always ate out.
He preferred adventuresome
Ethnic fare
As oppose to fast food
And regular American cuisine.
He liked Thai and Indian food,
Greek and Persian delicacies,
Italian ice cream
And sushi restaurants.
He liked eating in
European style
Outdoor cafes
Where he could sit
For hours and hours
Watching people
As they walked by.
His life style
Afforded him
Both the time
And the opportunity
To contemplate
The world around him.
Sometimes he would
Drop in on
Poetry readings
Or go places where
Live music was
Being performed.
Though there were
Museums were all around,
He seldom, if ever, went.
They just weren't
His “cup of tea!”
Like everyone else,
He cursed the traffic
From time to time,
And complained
About the ever present pollution,
But in general,
He just ignored it,
And concentrated on
Enjoying living the moment,
No mater what
He was happened to be doing.
He liked the feeling
Of being an urban professional,
And was always well groomed
And impeccably dressed,
A class act, but one
He was extremely comfortable with
And proficient at.
He relished the company
Of scholarly minds,
Wiling away the hours
Discussing philosophy,
The economy and politics.
This was one of the benefits
To living in a university town,
And why he chose to stay.
He was as much a part of the city
As the city was a part of him.

Chess Hangover

Oh No! I did it again.
I stayed up
Two-thirds of the night
Playing chess
And now I am suffering
The consequences.
I am dead tired,
And I feel
Completely wasted,
But a new day
Has already begun,
And is demanding
My attention.
Unfortunately
I never got
Into the habit of
Compensatory sleeping
Until noon,
No matter how late
I finally go to bed.
Every time I do this,
I swear I will
Never do it again,
But I am simply
An incorrigible chess nut,
And enjoy the game
Even when I have to
Pry my eyelids open
With toothpicks
In order to play.
I know I have
Things to do,
But I need today
To recover,
So I might as well
Give up the idea
Of getting anything
Worthwhile accomplished.
At least I can write.
I can practically
Do that with
My eyes closed,
But trying to do
Much beyond that
Has a very low
Probability of success.

Crazy Mama

She was probably
A bit insane
Most of her life,
But she was
Distinctly senile
By the time
He got to know her.
She is his grandmother
On his mother's side,
A feisty independent,
And generally harmless
Little old lady,
Who still lives alone,
Though surrounded
By relatives.
Out of necessity,
The family has taken to
Locking the gate
In the fence
Around the property
To keep her inside.
She tends to
Wander off whenever
She gets a chance.
One time she was found
Walking alongside
The freeway out of town
Heading who knows where.
Another time someone
Recognized her strolling
On the far side of town
And kindly brought
Her back home.
Apparently “Mama,”
As all of the family
Likes to call her,
Has mentally erased
His mother from her mind.
It could have something
To do with the fact that
They never got along
All that well to begin with.
Anyway, his mother
Stopped by to check on Mama,
And see how she was doing.
Mama's response
Was to call the police
And report a strange woman
Inside her house.
Even when confronted
With old family photographs
Clearly showing
His mother as a part
Of the family,
Mama claimed not to know
Who her daughter was.
He rather imagines
The police officers
Responding to the complaint
Must have had a laugh
Out of that situation.
Mama is full of
Quirks and eccentricities,
And one of the most bizarre
Is that she has lately
Given birth to
A porcelain Christ figure
Which she carries
All over the place
Wrapped in a blanket,
Treating it like a baby.
She tells everyone
How good her baby is
Because it is so quiet,
And she dutifully
Cautions visitors
To be quiet
So they don't
Wake up the baby,
When anyone picks up Mama,
Someone has to
Stay behind and babysit
Her precious baby.
In spite of all that,
And maybe sometimes
Because of her wacky dementia,
She is loved by everyone.

The Mark of a Good Manager

It fascinates me
Observing how
Different managers
Handle problems
Whenever they occur.
A good manager
Doesn't waste time
Trying to find
Someone to blame
When things go wrong.
He or she is too busy
Solving the problem.
The incompetent one
Is more interested
In finding a scapegoat
Rather than accepting
Responsibility for
The solution.
A good manager
Doesn't give
And doesn't accept excuses.
All a competent manager
Wants to hear is that
The problem is solved.

A Man of the Gutter

He is one of those people
Who can't speak
Without every third
Or fourth word
Sounding like
A disgruntled whore
Talking shop.
He is a student
Of the gutter,
Proud of the way
He peppers his speech
With vulgarities.
He consciously abuses
The language,
As well as my ears,
With his profanity.
He seems to be broadcasting
His ignorance
And utter contempt
For social mores.
In the gritty underworld
Of city life,
His kind roam the streets
In force,
Thumbing their nose
At propriety,
Speaking in a dialect
All their own.

So, You Want to be a Writer!

Like countless others,
You have imperial dreams
Of someday seeing
Your words in print,
Of the rest of the world
Suddenly waking up
To who you are
And what you have to say.
Well, if you want
To be a writer,
The secret, if there is one,
Is to write, write
And write some more.
Write about anything
And everything.
Experiment with language.
Try a different style,
Maybe a subject
You never previously considered.
Let people see
What you have written.
Let them criticize
And bleed all over it,
Then pick yourself up
By your boot straps
And write again.
Writing serves as
Food for thought,
So the more you write,
The more there is to write.
You need not fear
Ever running out of topics.
Take notice of what
Catches your eye,
And ask yourself why.
Also observe
How much of life
You tend to miss.
Notice the people
Around you,
Every one of them
Has a story
They're dying to tell.
Many of them
Have two or three
Good tales,
And aren't even sure
Which ones are true.
Learn to laugh with them
And at yourself.
Go where people talk,
And listen for the gold.
Capture what it is
To be human,
Taking in the good,
As well as the bad,
The beautiful,
As well as the ugly.
Have compassion
For those around you
As well as for yourself.
Explore life, love
And happiness,
Then take note of
The part that sorrow
Plays in life.
Observe the meaning
You give to things.
Learn what it is
To be fully alive,
And alert to life,
For only then
Will you have
A story worth telling.

Belching Steam

She is obviously
Frustrated and angry
At the inequities of life,
But that is no excuse
For the language that gushes
From her mouth
Just because something
Has ticked her off.
Normally she comes across
As very sharp
And completely professional,
But when she is
In a foul mood,
Look out world!
She tends to lash out
With curses,
Spewing verbal venom
At whoever
Or whatever
Crossed her path,
And in the process,
She sounds neither
Educated nor erudite.
If she behaves
That way at home,
She is bound to act
The same at work,
And it will cost her
Far more than
She can possibly imagine.
We all have challenges
And our share
Of frustrations,
For that is
The nature of life,
But it is not appropriate
For any of us to splatter
Our discontent
On everyone around us
As she has been doing.

Reflections of Language

Who you are,
Your education level,
And the kind of people
You associate with
Are all reflected
In the language you use.
It doesn't matter
What country,
Or what part of the country
You come from,
Or what language
You happen to speak,
Educated people tend to have
A much wider range
Of words they use
On a daily basis.
I have heard various numbers
Bantered about,
But let's say that out of
Roughly one million words
In the English language,
A high school dropout
Might use roughly 1500 words
In normal speech,
A college graduate,
Possibly as many as
Ten to fifteen thousand,
A writer or a poet,
Typically as many as
25,000 to 150,000 words.
You should also be
Aware of the pitfalls
Of repeating the same words
Over and over again,
Especially if those words
Are impolite or off color.
They add nothing
To your communication,
And subtract from
Your standing
In the ears of
The listener.
You should also avoid
Punctuating your sentences
With meaningless utterances
Such as "ahs" and "you knows"
Which certainly don't add to
Clarity of communication.
When learning a new language,
Be aware of who
You are learning from,
For you can easily pick up
Words and phrases
Which reflect badly
On your class
Or level of education,
Your language is a mirror
Reflecting who you really are.

The Taming of a She Wolf

What I remember was
Her passion for architecture.
Perhaps it was the idealistic
Dream of a young woman
At the start of her career,
Eager to take on life,
Naively determined to leave
Her mark on the world,
With no sense of limitations
Or the difficulties
She would one day face.
All I know is that
She seemed utterly fearless,
And on fire with possibilities
Of what architecture could be.
Supremely self-confident,
The world was her oyster.
After all, what could I,
Or anyone else, logically expect
From a girl who,
On her own initiative
And hard work
Won a five-year
All-expense-paid scholarship
To one of the top three
Architectural schools in the US.
She had shown her mettle
On her first job
After graduating,
Becoming a shooting star
In the architectural world.
She lined up eleven interviews
For her next position,
And ended up with
Eleven job offers
To choose from.
Those were exciting times
And there seemed
No limit to how far
She could go.
She quickly obtained her license,
And was able to take on
More and more responsibility,
But something changed.
She was no longer the bright-eyed
Bushy-tailed, unstoppable woman
I fondly remembered.
It was almost as if
Someone else had
Taken over her spirit.
The global economic crisis
Had hit the US big time,
And the company
She worked for
Was struggling to survive.
She was forced to take
A ten percent pay cut
Along with everyone else.
Even with that,
More than half her co-workers
Lost their jobs during the recession
Which left those remaining
Profoundly insecure.
I could hear the change
In the way she talked,
And in what she said.
I started hearing her
Say things like,
"They don't pay
Architects very much!"
Or just as lethal,
"They pay woman less
Then they do men
For the same work."
Instead of talking about
All the things she wants to do,
She is now focused
On the things she has
Not yet done,
As if they are stopping her
From advancing further.
She even talks about
Getting out of the field altogether,
And pursuing art,
Or something else
She enjoys doing.
What I hear is burn out,
The slow death
Of a once passionate artisan.
I know,
For I have been there myself.
What I have observed
Is that life is largely determined
By our attitude,
And hers is obviously waning.
It is as if she is trapped,
With nowhere else to go.
The wolf she was
Has been defanged,
And unless something changes,
She may come to hate
Her job and profession,
And of course,
The turmoil she is in
Inevitably will be carried back
To plague her family.
Once a person's confidence is lost,
Can it ever be regained?
Is there anything I could say
That would ease her struggle?
It is times like these
That can easily make or break
A budding professional,
And I certainly don't
Want to see her spirit broken
Any more than
It already is.
She doesn't have to
Be an architect, as long as
She enjoys what she does,
But if she chooses not to be
An architect,
My hope is for her
To go out with
A blaze of glory
Verses a whimper.