I AM 14% WHITE TRASH!

14% WHITE TRASH

I, my friend, have class. I am so not white trash. . I am more than likely Democrat, and my place is neat, and there is a good chance I may never drink wine from a box.

I’d have to say this is news to me.

Rejection…

Ah, yes, once again I walk the sad path to the mailbox (my mail comes through a slot in my door – who am I kidding…) only to find another unexpected rejection letter. Unexpected because I know I’m so great that who on earth would ever reject me? Naaah.

Unexpected because – out of all of the festival teaching I did this past year – I’d have to chalk the Michigan Fiber Festival up as one of the most successful in terms of students learning a lot and having a great time. Students from my first class returned to sign up for later classes – dragging friends with them!

Okay, I had an icky experience when one of the two-person Workshop Committee came in and stood like a wraith over one of my students “observing” my teaching method(but actually unnerving myself and my students) and another unpleasant experience with that same woman’s daughter when I first arrived and was trying to discover where I should go to check in / find my classroom / find my trailer.

Aside from that, though, it was a lovely few days of teaching – and I’d heard back from many students who asked, “Will you be here next year?”

I wasn’t surprised when they emailed me a few weeks ago asking me to submit a group of classes for the coming year, but I was a little stunned when I got a letter this weekend telling me that the committee (both of them) had considered all of my proposals and rejected them.

Rejection isn’t new – it’s part of life – and it’s not like I expect to be loved and welcomed everywhere. However, I WAS loved and welcomed by my students at the MFF – but obviously not by the committee. Strike that – half of the committee. Unfortunately, when my email stuff was lost in October I lost all of the email addresses from my Michigan students. Probably for the best.

I will, however, be teaching at the Great Lakes Fiber Show in late May!

I need to learn to dance with the man. Or the woman. Or whoever’s bottom needs a kiss. And now you all know the worst part of my personality – I do better with equals than with superiors, because I reject the notion that any of us are superior.

I respect authority, but I can’t stroke it.

Burn, baby, burn.

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