a change is gonna come

this photo has absolutely nothing to do with the following post but i took it the other day while i was out for a walk and wanted to share it.

Last night, I dreamed that I had become a school teacher. I knew I was for sure remming at the time because (a) I was teaching at my old Catholic high school and (b) my socks did not match my belt. Anyways, Dali couldn’t have painted the picture better himself. My classroom wasn’t at all like the one I remembered as a student. There were no stained glass windows, chalkboards or pictures of sunsets with biblical quotations on the horizon. There were not even walls.

The surreal homeroom I found myself teaching in looked more like it was cut straight out of a Harry Potter film. Two closed eyelids and I went from adjusting the temperature on the space heater to taking the class attendance deep within the Ministry of Magic. On all four sides I was surrounded by students. Like an inverse pyramid, they sat on rows of bleachers that rose higher the further they pushed back. I could barely make out the faces of the students at the very back as they faded into darkness.

Although I was boxed in to a square, I began the class with confidence and ease. Stage fright has never been a problem of mine and so it has rarely chased me in my dreams. The nightmare didn’t begin until I handed out the course syllabus. Holding on to a copy for myself, I watched a cyclone of white pages swirl up in every direction before dissolving in to thin air. With everyone’s attention, I cleared my throat and prepared to speak, until I realized the page in my hand was blank.

Tripping over sentence fragments, beads of sweat raced down my cheek and I began to lose my cool. I could feel the pressure of a thousand eyes closing in on me, and had no clue what move to make next. I had a classroom full of students with no idea what I was supposed to teach them. Each stutter marked the passing of another hour. There was no way out and no place to hide. After what felt like an eternity, I was saved by the bell of my alarm clock. I woke up with my bed cover on the floor and the traffic report on the radio.

I had a classroom full of students with no idea what I was supposed to teach them.

Like the blank page in my dream, I cannot tell you how many times I have sat at this wooden desk in front of a blank computer screen. When I graduated University and moved to Vancouver, I thought there would be no end to the number of words I would stitch together. I envisioned Fringe plays, best-selling novels, and a hilarious website that was updated every other day. I didn’t anticipate spending half my time serving tables in a restaurant and the other half being too hungover to hold a pen upright.

For months, I searched scrambled for a creative outlet to bridge the gap between a life I left behind and a new one I hadn’t the foggiest clue what to do with. But alas, every time I sat down with a sober mind to write, nothing would come out. It took me the longest time to discover that my problem was not that I was blocked; it was that I was trying to create from a place that didn’t exist within my self anymore.

I have always felt that Meryl Streep put me on this earth to make people laugh; but a deeper part of me has also felt she placed me here to teach. When I began writing Rugged Fox, my only goal was comedy.  I adapted stories from own life and made sure to trim out any plot line that I considered “too serious.” I decided it was my life’s mission to write about boys, fashion and strict skin regimes. Other issues impacting my life, like depression, anxiety and alcoholism were for my offline journal only. Now, after three years of sitting beside the Pacific Ocean, I find myself in a space where I can share the other parts of my story. 

As we move in to 2012, I will launch a new section to this site called “School of Fox.” It is still in the works and like my dream, I have no clue exactly what will be on the course outline; except I have enough ideas to start. In the coming months, I will be sharing with you what I have learned about sexual identity, self-esteem and most importantly, self-care. Using my journal entries as a jumping off point, I would like to teach everything I didn’t learn in high school. I would like to emphasize that I am not a doctor or registered counsellor, I am just a redhead with a lot of great teaching outfits.

Comments

[Kyla]

I'm so excited to see this new side of your site! I love this new direction :)

[Andrew]

Can't wait to read the new stuff.
You are a truly gifted writer.

[Just a broke writer...you can call me Steven]

Fantastic way to bring in the new year. I was always told: The real you is more interesting than the fake somebody else! Look forward to reading more, learning more, laughing more, and rooting you on in the process. May your computer screen continuously be full of witty banter, epic homo shenanigans, and truthful revelations. Keep them outfits pressed baby, v-necks low, optimism on high, and a space for a fellow writer (hint hint wink wink) who always wanted to write at a Foxy wooden desk! Be Blessed... -S-

[Chef Green]

Foxy,
I am thrilled, actually-I hope you tell us some of your dark side, your shadow self. I would love to read the workings of your dreams and desires, your fears and frailties. But then again, I love everything that you write.
Love from the South-J