July 2008: Giving words a break, letting photos do the talking (well, some of it anyway)

Photography is one art form; arranging photography is another. The ideal photo essay would be a series of shots out the windows of all the busses and cars I have taken to get here to Mississippi, and that I have subsequently taken here within Mississippi. What I have, however, is not ideal. It recounts but a recent (and wonderful) weekend trip to Vickburg, MS. Photos can never traverse the full length of human experience...but they sure pull  a lot of weight. I am happy to finally put some visuals to this all-words blog. At times, being a writer in the constant company of words can be tiring. It's nice to have pictures do the work. Below are short explanations of each photo in order.

This is the English building, which is situated in the center of campus on the gorgeous green space near a fountain. Note the pillars and the ornate stone wall on the side. My first impressions of Ole Miss keep on impressing me as I stroll around daily: full, flowery trees; stoic, elegant bricks and pillars.
On the road though Jackson. I like on-the-road picures. In retrospect, I wish I'd taken some on my Greyhound trek out here.
The Miss Mississippi Pagaent. I have aims to write an essay on Southern pagaent culture. Soon would be good.
Can you see the pageant potential in me and my Mississippian bud?
My new home-to-be. The neighborhood's sights and sounds and layout remind me of semi-urban areas of my homestate.
On the road back from Vicksburg.
busride to HSHS summer school. This is the Tallahatchie River that we ride over every morning and afternoon. A social studies and fellow drama-club (second-year) teacher told me that this is the river where Emmitt Till was found dead in 1955 (a famous, tragic event in Mississippi history).
A quick photo shot of the classroom I teach in everyday. After a month, I am happy to say that it's become more comfortable to me. Maybe it's taking on traits of a habitat? A home? I'm adapting...
OK. This last one needs some elaboration. I found this in the Ole Miss Student Union. It is a symbol of how teaching keeps the child in me alive. Riding the bus reminds me of countless days I spent on it, talking, laughing, reading, sleeping. Being in the classroom reminds me of still more numerous hours spent learning and the rest (talking, laughing, reading, writing). And this gumball machine? Well, it testifies to the fact that adults like childish things (gumballs) enough to keep this vendor in business. I couldn't be happier that I am keeping my inner child alive through teaching.