I know I've written a lot about my indecision as to the future I'm walking towards, the path I'm putting myself on. I know I'm looking between software and teaching, and weighing my two loves, trying to decide which to pursue.

I was recently listening to the comedian Bo Burnham on YouTube (the guy is great, I highly recommend listening to a few of his songs. Vulgar, but true.) One of his tracks stuck out like a sore thumb, struck a chord in me. I've embedded it below.



See, I view my programming as art. There is an art to making cool things. In fact, I would posit that making cool things is, by definition, art. The question that I'm posing is whether that is something we should aspire to or not.

The literacy rates and graduation rates in my country, one of the wealthiest places in the world, the place that brings us Facebook and Twitter, are abysmal. They're so bad, I wouldn't be surprised if many adults were unsure as to what "abysmal" means. And yet, we're coming up with new and interesting ways to communicate with each other. We're employing some of the smartest minds in creating art. And while we have a need to nurture the inner artist, we need to remember that that inner artist exists in a world. We can't simply hold art up as an excuse, some lofty goal that we aspire to with no regard for the context around it. There are rumbles of dissent around Buffalo right now because the funding for the arts was drastically cut, but... we're in a financially difficult spot right now. Should we be cutting funding to the arts to support more immediately pressing concerns?

It's hard to open a mind that is rotting because it was starved to death. It's hard to light a spark in someone who was beaten for being different. Maybe art shouldn't be our highest concern.

I'm not sure on any of this. I'm just thinking about where art stands in our society, and the benefits it attributes to our society. Are they equal? Is there a separation of benefits to a society, two categories of necessity? The necessity for intellectual growth and expansion through art, and the necessity for basic survival? Should we be pursuing them in tandem? As a software programmer, am I doing a disservice by turning my code into art, by delaying the good that I could be doing for my society by insisting on doing it in this pure way?

I am an artist; please, God, forgive me.

This Twitch In My Eye Is Starting To Piss Me Off

I woke up today and went to work. For four hours straight, I worked in the same room on the same projects. One focus, one paradigm, one thing at a time. It was glorious.

I feel like I could wake up every day and do this. Not one paradigm for an hour, then another for two hours, then another for an hour and a half... I had focus, and things got accomplished.

This gives me hope. I've been worried about how I'd function in "the real world", with my numerous immaturities in behaviour that I can't seem to get away from, from my sleep schedule that doesn't really exist, to my inability to be productive unless the planets are in line. But apparently, in the real world, I'll be fine. As long as I know what my day holds, and have a consistent pattern with a long-term focus, it all seems to work out for me.

It's a shame my classes can't work under that structure.

So, I failed again yesterday. Terribly. Managed to not drag myself out of bed until nine p.m., a full 20 hours after I first tried to sleep. What's the most annoying is that I woke up a couple times, at least halfway, and fell back asleep moments later, anyways. I don't know why I was so tired, and why my alarms and failsafes against this kind of thing failed. It was actually an important, filled day for me: two hours of work, a presentation to a class, and leading a workshop for another class. All of that was missed.

I'm not entirely sure what to do from this point. Beyond my obvious failing to comprehend the forces at work, both outside and inside my body, that contrive to put me in these situations, I don't know how to handle this situation now that I'm in it. What do I tell the professor I was supposed to present to, that I once again failed to come to her class, even though the presentation was to make up my previous failure? What do I say to her?

I don't know how to live my life, and I don't know how to figure it out.

I wish I could give more presentations. I love to present; I generally don't get a full grasp on what I'm doing until I'm standing in front of my audience, giving the presentation. I tend to get feelings, or inklings, or ideas, and just put them together and hope for the best. For example, in a few short minutes, I'm giving a presentation on Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. All I have so far is alliteration and this scene from V for Vendetta. No idea what I'm going to do with all that, but I'll be doing something. And I'll figure it out when I get up there.

Presentations, though, are butchered 99% of the time. The group presenting right now (yes, I'm being a bad audience member and blogging while people present) is literally reading their bits off a piece of paper, standing in a line across the front of the room, one at a time. No character, no personality.

In a few weeks, I'll be teaching a class. I know it will be about grammar and essay construction, I know the students will only be allowed to call me Captain (or "Oh Captain my Captain" if they're ambitious), I know I'll be handing them eye-patches as they enter the classroom and informing them that they will be graded on their ability to wear the eye-patch for the entire period, but that's really all I know about that lesson. And it's all I'm likely to know.

Why must people butcher such an art form? A person's attention is valuable. Don't waste it, when they're required to give it to you.

One of my professors said something interesting to me today, something I've been thinking about a lot in the past couple of weeks. She pointed out that she knows I can be a very good teacher, if I'd only show up. Teachers used to say I'm very smart, if I'd only do my work. Now, they don't even care if I do my work, they just want me to show up. And I still can't even do that.

The problem is, I'm just unreliable. Medication, mental and emotional disorders, a terrible diet, and a sleep schedule that has never been normal all collaborate to make me sleep through classes and work shifts with terrible regularity. If it weren't for this, I could easily be carrying a GPA a full point higher than it is.

But that makes me think. Should I be punished for this? Probably not. I try my hardest, I really do. And days like today, where I fuck up, where I can't seem to be the grown-up everyone really wants me to be, it's hard for me not to come home and just wallow in self-pity. Nobody yelled at me or disciplined me today, but I still feel like a failure, and like I'll never amount to anything. I feel like I'm wasting my potential, because I can do so much, but I can't seem to drag my ass the places it needs to be so I can do things.

But my professor also asked if I'm sure I want to be a teacher. No, no I'm not sure. Not sure at all. I know I love to teach. I know I love English. I know I'm very, very good at both, because I'm a junior in college and barely touch my books, but I consistently score highly in these subjects. But as I get closer to that degree, I'm less and less sure I want it.

I'm not sure I can work within such a defined structure. Our education system sucks, and there's little to nothing I can do to directly fix the issue. That kind of thing always pisses me off, and I'm signing up to deal with it for five days a week until I retire.

My teaching style is very liberal. Like... radically liberal. And I'm starting to doubt that I'll get a teaching job that won't hurt me to do. Because so much of what we have accepted and implemented in our schools today is wrong. Research shows it. Common sense shows it. Our students know it, and we know it. But we don't fix it. Because it's too hard, and because we can't operate within the fucked-up system we have otherwise. So we continue perpetuating a broken system, and the idea of being part of that kills me. But I may not get hired, otherwise.

Of course, many people ask why I'm pursuing teaching instead of computers. And honestly, I don't have a real answer anymore. It used to be that I loved to teach, and doing it as a job didn't hurt that love. Working with computers as a job seems soulless, lifeless, and painful. It would crush me to have something I love so much taken away from me, have its soul stripped away, and then force-fed back to me.

And yet, in about twenty minutes I'm meeting with a friend who wants to incorporate a software company with me. And I'm excited about the idea. And have customers lined up and waiting. And teaching is seeming more and more oppressive, with less room to maneuver.

Honestly, if I weren't three semesters away from a degree, I'd probably switch majors. I just can't see myself becoming normal in time for me to teach.