somewhere between the HereNorThere

There is a shit-storm in Dubuque, and I'm 400+ miles away in a residual haze.

I spent the last two years busting my ass so that I could keep my head above the water this year knowing that even with a light course load I'd be too busy to take even one weekend off without major catching up. And now that I'm needed most I'm least accessible. I can't take care of the house for my mother while she's taking care of one of her best friends in the hospital. I can't drive to Cedar Rapids to visit my grandmother in the hospital and give my mother and aunts a break from watching their own mother die slowly. I can't console Emily when her student's brawl to the point where they need stitches and point finger-guns at the back of Emily's head and whisper a malicious "pow" to their classmates. I can't hug her and say Fuck those kids, fuck the system while she cries, words that we both know I don't mean but words that lose their weight over the phone. I can't run errands for dad who is working harder than ever. I can't integrate him into my life as much as I know he so desperately wants to be.

People need me here--to write, critique, revise, evaluate; to teach, engage, challenge, entertain, and sometimes give students a day off when I'm not ready and I know they're not ready; I'm a buddy, a conferencer, a peer, a colleague, a student--but it's not in the same way that I'm needed there; home. Nobody needs me here like they need me there. They ask things of me here. They expect things. If I don't perform there is a consequence.

Here I follow rubrics. I meet cirricula and deadlines. At home, the need for me often goes unexpressed, unacknowledged even by the asker. That's how I prefer it. I lurk around looking for ways to help, I help, then I hope that someone notices. I remember when I was a little girl and still attending Mass and feeling (really feeling) that God what present in every prayer, every sneeze, every "playing doctor" with the neighbor; I used to tell Him that the only thing I wanted was for people to say that I was a nice girl and really mean it. Rather than a saintly, altruistic desire, it was the M.O. I decided to adopt. Instead of my aunts gossiping amongst themselves, "Anna, she's the trouble-maker," I wanted them to say, "Anna, she's always doing something nice for someone." Now, I realize that I failed miserably at putting this persona forth in many selfish and/or trouble-making moments, but it's how I came to define myself. If I do enough for people to notice that I'm filling needs without seeming to ask for or expecting praise, I hoped that #1) people would notice my deed and think of me as a "nice girl," and #2) I would fill a need for someone....in that order.

I'm reading the Qu'ran now. I suspect it's because I'm looking for an answer. Guidance at the least. Actually, just a distraction will do. I realize that there is little I can do for the situations back home. There's only so many times I can say, "wow, that sucks," or "it will get better," over the phone before the phrases lose all of the little meaning they may have held. I'm here, at school, wading through my frusrations and annoyances as best I can while I should be there, piling sandbags agaisnt the flooding waters of the shit-storm (an Ani homage)...prefereably where no one can see me. They're all standing bone-dry on the other side. This is where I'm needed. It's the type of thing that defines a person.