winding down

well, here it is, folks. this week is week 12 of my student teaching experience. what with days off for veteran's day, thanksgiving break, and the like, i've got 16 days left. SIXTEEN. SIXTEEN DAYS OF SCHOOL LEFT TO GO.

this is my last full week of teaching--and by "full," i mean i teach tuesday, thursday, and friday--and then next week, my cooperating teacher will transition back to the forefront. the following week is thanksgiving week, meaning classes on monday and tuesday are normal, then wednesday is a big all-school potluck. the week following that is the last week i'll be there, when i'm supposed to observe other teachers (meaning i will start saying my goodbyes and get really weepy).

last week, i wrote a note to my principal and put it in his inbox (he's notoriously hard to get in touch with, unless HE wants to see YOU) asking him if there might be room for me on the staff as a part-time teacher next semester. everyone was frantic all week with the alternative school network inspection, so i didn't really get a chance to talk to him about it. i'm going to try and track him down sometime this week to discuss it further. i know for a fact that one of the history/social science teachers is leaving in january. in an alternative school, you don't have to be certified to teach your particular subject, or certified at all; while i'm not saying that i'm totally qualified to teach latin american history...dude, i bet i could pull it off. also, i bet they could stand to add another section or two of an english class (or two).

i'm hoping he'll go for it. last night i had a horrible dream about going back to work in the restaurant that i used to work in and plan on returning to (and guess i still technically work for). i couldn't find my vest and my manager was yelling at me and my locker was full of putrid frozen yogurt (don't ask; we don't even sell frozen yogurt there).

i'd just rather keep on being with these kids, teaching them, learning from them, however you want to put it. i'd rather not go back to upselling high-end half-size pastas if i could do something more in line with my future career, y'know?

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additionally, a propos of nothing, here is my menu for the upcoming thanksgiving holiday. i'm hosting 9 people--10, including myself--and i'm really excited about doing it all up. to the point that i'm having a hard time delegating.

THANKSGIVING MENU 2009

• Roast Turkey with Maple Herb Butter
• Garlic Mashed Potatoes
• Cranberry Sauce
• Chestnut Stuffing
• Maple Glazed Yams with Pecan Topping
• Green Beans with Shallots and Pancetta
• Zucchini Casserole
• Kate's Thanksgiving Cornbread (courtesy of my kindergarten teacher's recipe)
• Pumpkin Roll
• Apple Pie

i FREAKING LOVE this time of year, and i'm really excited about having a huge number of people at our (bigger) apartment this year. if you're in town, and you've got nothing on, stop by!

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earlier this week, i was talking to a student about varying things. he showed up in my classroom really early--around 8:00 or so, when i first get there--and we ended up talking for nearly an hour before 1st period started. at some point, we got around to talking about places i've travelled, and amsterdam came up. i realize that all my students think it's So Crazy Cool that i've been to amsterdam--they know exactly what amsterdam is known for, and so i see no point in pretending that i didn't partake in the activities while i was there. anyway, we were talking about amsterdam, and stuff i did while i was there, and the following conversation occurred:
student: what's it like there?
me: what do you mean?
student: like, what does it look like?
me: i'm still not sure what you mean.
student: like, are the houses made out of mud and sticks and stuff?

and while i wanted to say, "WHAT!?", instead i said, "oh, honey, no. amsterdam's been a city longer than we've been a country," and then told him about all the canals.

Week 11 Reflection

**Below is the text of the reflection journal I turned in for my grad school seminar. I know it's long, but stick with me. It's worth it.

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Initially, I had every intention of using this reflection to talk about a multitude of things: the start of second quarter, the upcoming accreditation inspection on Friday, starting my kids in their first big project. However, following today’s staff meeting, I’m going to talk about that instead. I think my rationale will rapidly become clear.
Today at the staff meeting, one of the teachers brought up a recent incident in order to determine consequences / a course of action. This particular teacher is white. Toward the end of a class a few days ago, a student not enrolled in the class came in. Matt allowed him to stay, since class was nearly over. However, the student in question was cursing and being derogatory toward other students. Matt chastised him and told him to be respectful, but the situation kept escalating. It ended when class did—and when, upon leaving, the student got inches from Matt’s face and said, “Somebody needs to fuck your bitch.”
This led into a discussion of consequences, and the culture of the school, and the culture of the streets in which these students live. It seemed pretty clear that no matter where the students come from, the school should not tolerate that kind of language or abuse from its student population.
AND THEN.
One of the teacher/mentors got up and started talking. This teacher/mentor is a big believer in the ideology of early Malcolm X, by the way. (Yes, I’m talking all that “white devil” business—I know he buys into that, even if he doesn’t go around dissing white people all the time.) The teacher/mentor starts talking about how the staff at my school doesn’t understand the culture, races, and lives of the student population that we serve. He said that we are all, always, spouting the language of the White Oppressor, putting our students at a disadvantage because our personal frameworks differ vastly from the realities of the students in the school.
But it didn’t stop at that. This teacher/mentor said that NOBODY in the room—not me, not Matt, not the African-American vice principal, not the Filipino English teacher, not the Nigerian math teacher—understands our students’ lives and minds. He made it seem like he was the only one who did (though his reasoning for this belief was not entirely clear.) He screamed and he shouted and he pointed fingers, and a lot of the staff got out of their chairs and did the same thing right back to him. He brandished a book by a Malcolm X disciple, telling us we needed to read the truth, and then slammed it down on the table.
I don’t feel like I am out of line in saying that the situation makes me uncomfortable. But not because I am white, or because I am female, or because I came from a firmly-middle-class suburban upbringing, or because I live in a nice apartment with my white husband and our $1500 dog.
I am uncomfortable with it because this teacher/mentor is making this a racial and cultural issue, when it IS NOT. Under any circumstances, in any culture—especially a multicultural educational environment—it should be considered inappropriate for a student to get up in anyone’s face—teacher, fellow student, custodian, whoever—and say, “Somebody needs to fuck your bitch.” That is NOT okay, and SHOULD NOT be okay anywhere, at any time
And it makes me uncomfortable because I know that this teacher/mentor, in his mentor role, has students come to him and talk to him about issues with teachers and administrators. I really believe that if a student has a problem with me, or any other teacher, it’s not because we’re of different races or are from different cultures; it’s because one of us has done something unfair, or is being too harsh, or is being unreasonable. It’s not because we’re black or white or Filipino or Nigerian or Sri Lankan or Ghanaian. It’s because we’re two people, differing on a fundamental level about something that happened in the classroom environment. And I’m pretty sure that if a student went to this teacher/mentor with any problem, of any nature, this teacher/mentor will warp the problem into a racial or cultural one. I think he will tell kids that the fundamental issue isn’t that we disagree on a classroom policy; we differ because we’re either infected by, or represent, the White Oppressor. He’ll skew the issue to fit his framework, and then press that framework upon the student in question.
That’s wrong. Anywhere you go, that’s wrong. It’s wrong to push and impress and batter your beliefs on other people—especially when those other people are in distress.
Just like it’s wrong to say “Somebody needs to fuck your bitch” to anyone, it’s equally wrong to shout and point and throw books at your colleagues. And I don’t think that’s my white, female, suburban ideology saying it’s wrong; I think that within any human context, that’s disrespectful.
There’s no difference. And this is supposed to be an environment advocating social justice? Really, you could’ve fooled me.
Maybe next time I’ll bring a copy of Inga Muscio’s Cunt to throw right back.

Success v. Fail

Appropriate Staff Meeting Topic: How can we best prepare ourselves for the ASN accrediting visit this Friday? Who should we pick for student and staff focus groups? What do we need to be prepared to know?

Inappropriate Staff Meeting Topic: When you eat seedless grapes, you are absorbing less knowledge than if you were to eat grapes with seeds, because the seed of a fruit is what contains all the nutrients and knowledge. Ditto seedless v. seeded watermelon. Agree or disagree? Discuss!

(One guess as to which one we spent more time (i.e. an hour) on at today's record-breaking 3.5 hour staff meeting.)

The Bearer of Bad News

Today is the first day of my three-day Halloween weekend, and even though I have zero plans to dress up like a sexy [insert profession / object here], I'm going to enjoy it because I know that I have earned it.

Wednesday and Thursday of this week were evaluations. The school I'm at doesn't do the report card business that I remember from high school, where we went to our first period class at the end of the day and picked them up. They don't even follow the model that seems to be the case these days, where they have a report card pickup at the end of school (because the students! they can't be trusted to not edit their report cards with scanners and Photoshop! what I want to know is, where were the scanners and Photoshop when I was getting Fs and Ds in physics?! but I digress.)

No, my school has students sign up to come in and conference with their teachers, one at a time, on a one-on-one basis, to talk about everything from attendance and behavior to ability to work in groups. And, oh yeah, give out grades.

Wednesday was fine, because I mostly gave out As all day. I don't blame those A-getting kids; if I knew I'd rocked my classes, I'd want to get in there early and get the proof and then get out and enjoy a 4-day weekend. So I got to make a lot of kids smile, tell them they're awesome and smart and their grades indicate this, now go and take your two kids trick-or-treating, sweetie!

Thursday? Thursday sucked.

Thursday was the day when the stragglers came in. Thursday, I got to tell a lot of kids, to their faces, and to their great surprise in some cases, that they'd failed. Even with a curve, even with bonus points, even with a grudging addition (on my part) of points of attendance, they'd failed. F. Failed. Sorry, baby.

It sucks to have a kid sit down next to you, all smiles and anticipation, and have to look into their face and say, "You failed the quarter." It's hard to see their faces fall, the disappointment and confusion cloud their eyes, when to you, the proof was obvious--if you miss class 10 times in one quarter and don't make up the work...what did you THINK was going to happen? And it's even worse when it's a kid whose attendance has been fine, but their focus is nonexistent and the work doesn't get done and there are no points for 20 assignments in my gradebook. Those kids think they should pass the class on the simple merits of having shown up, when that's just not how education or the real world work.

These kids made me saddest of all. I'm thinking of one in particular. I know his crazy backstory, and that his home life sucks. He only missed two days, but when he's there...his body is there, but his mind is somewhere else. He can't stay on point long enough to accomplish much of anything, without running his mouth or taking a nap or doing everything BUT his class work.

If it were me, and my whole life was turmoil, I think I'd be glad for the quiet and order of school, the departure from the distractions and violence and poverty and fear. Just to do something DIFFERENT.

But these kids? No. The worst part of all is, they are so smart. They are so goddamn capable of doing the work, of getting As, of going on to do bigger and better and impressive things...but they don't. They can't, maybe.

I just wanted to put my hands on their shoulders and look them in the face and say, "You are SO smart. You are SO talented. You have SO MUCH to offer...and you're fucking it up."

Instead, I looked away from the disappointment in their faces. I wrapped up the conference. I told them that next quarter is a fresh start. I told them that I know they can do better this time around.

And then, I watched them walk out the door, shoulders slumped. And then I did it all over again, to someone else.

Long Time Gone

Sorry for the break in updates, folks. I had big intentions of writing on Tuesday night, but Blogger was down and I wasn't feeling up to writing in a Word document and re-pasting things here later.

Let's do this by the numbers:

9: Weeks of student teaching I've completed so far.
6: Weeks of student teaching I have left.
4: Weeks during which I will be actually teaching; the last week, I'm back to observing.
2: Days next week which are business as usual aka class (Monday & Tuesday).
2: Days next week which are devoted to evaluations, aka the report card system designed with the express purpose of making teachers crazy. (Wednesday & Thursday).
1: Day next week that I don't to go to school (Friday), giving me one
3: Day weekend. And I don't have a Halloween costume. Yet.
45%: Of students seem to be failing my classes, even though I'm grading on a HUGE curve and giving them ample opportunity to make up late work. I kind of want to cry.
1: Big freakout that I had on Wednesday, thinking I might never get hired anywhere, because postings for the 2010-2011 school year aren't really happening yet.
1: Big compliment that I got from my principal today, when he asked me how things were going and I told him I love my school and he told me that they would hire me.
2: Hours at the end of the day that I spent wondering if I can parlay this compliment into a part-time job until the end of the school year. I'd love to stay with my kids, and I'd love to build my resume. Everyone wins!
3: Episodes of 'Mad Men' that I watched while making an interminable stack of very boring flash cards for the APT.
22: Days until I take the APT. Aside from the flashcard-making...I haven't studied.
1: Hot stone massage that I'm getting tomorrow, having finally scheduled my birthday present from my husband.
1: Very big reason to be excited--my final grad school class is available with an online option. Hooray for a potential lack of midwinter nighttime commutes on the train! Hooray for completing my Master's in a very 21st-century way!
3: Class periods next week when I will allow students to make up missing assignments in attempt to get their grades from Fs to Ds.
1: Long Tuesday night when I grade all those papers and re-do the curves to make sure all my information is accurate and up-to-date for evaluations.
1: Very endearing student who got very, VERY happy when I informed him today that not only is he doing well--he's got the best grade in his class.
5: Cups of Dannon Light&Fit yogurt that I go through every week, eating breakfast at school.
25: Minutes I stood outside in the rain this morning, because I was
5: Minutes early, and the custodian was
20: Minutes late.
25ish: Minutes I stood under the hand dryer in the womens' bathroom in attempt to dry off my jeans, so that I wouldn't have to wear wet pants all day.
24.5: Minutes of this process that I felt like a total creep and hoped nobody would come into the bathroom and see me drinking coffee with my left thigh held under the hot air.


I think that's all for now. I actually have a lot on my mind worth mentioning regarding this evaluations process, but it's Friday night and I'm really tired and I'll write about it tomorrow after I use a gift certificate to have somebody rub my body with hot stones for an hour (gratuity included!).

Defective

Hi. I made you a list to read. This is a list of Things That Are Annoying Me Today:

1) I slept from 8:30-6:15 and I have been exhausted all day. THESE MATHEMATICS DO NOT ADD UP.

2) I dread teaching my 4th period. I really do. I like 60% of the kids, and the other 40%...I really just want to strangle. Well, no, not really, but sometimes I get really scared that I'll snap and just go "AHHHHHHH! SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Today I was trying to wrap up class and these four kids converged in the back and WOULD NOT stop talking. And not only would they not stop talking, but they would not stop talking in SPANISH and I couldn't get a word in edgewise so I just stood there and stared at them. Very pointedly. Until they looked up at me AND CONTINUED TO TALK and I said, "Seriously? You're going to keep talking even though I'm up here staring at you like 'Shut up'?" AND THEY KEPT TALKING. So help me God, my sanity is in danger.

3) My advisor was supposed to come watch me teach the aforementioned 4th period today and he just DIDN'T SHOW UP! Have I mentioned that I am having anxiety attacks about teaching my 4th period? And that my advisor will likely only observe me teaching it once? And that I'd really just LIKE TO GET THAT OVER WITH? Except that I can't! Because he didn't show up!

3b) I emailed my advisor and was very "Hey, you didn't show, hope everything's okay, let me know when you want to come in." The email I get in response says: "See you tomorrow!" No explanation! No apology! No APPROXIMATE TIME OF ARRIVAL! STFU DUDE! I emailed him back to let him know that I only teach one class, from 9:52-10:42 tomorrow, and that if he comes in the afternoon, activities will be going on and there won't be anything to observe. $20 says he screws it up.

4) My cooperating teacher's after-school advice on how to tame 4th period? STALL! Oh great! I'm supposed to make them listen to me by RAMBLING ON AIMLESSLY. Hooray for American education.

5) The books I ordered to be sent to my branch of the library still aren't here and I really could use some escapist leisure reading right now.

6) I have to take the APT in less than a month and I can't get motivated to make flash cards to save my life.

7) I don't know what I'm going to do with my American Lit kids once we finish the unit on Malcolm X. I was GOING to do a unit on "Howl" by Allen Ginsberg but that seems to convoluted and frankly, I don't know my students would handle lines like, "Holy are the cocks of the grandfathers of Kansas." HELP THANX.

8) I have had bad dreams about my old restaurant job TWO NIGHTS IN A ROW. No offense, cafe people, but when I wake up in a cold sweat because I can't remember how Aloha works...that's messed up.

9) It's really cold here.

10) There were no good magazines at the gym.

11) I am 90% sure that fresh figs are finally out of season.

Sick Day

For only the third time in my adult working life, I have called in sick. The first occasion was when I was in Yosemite, and a friend was in the hospital two hours away (in lovely Fresno) with a compound fracture and I thought I might not get a chance to see him before he went back to Virginia. The second occasion was when I got the flu in March 2008 and was so achy that I actually cried--more than once!--because it hurt my butt to sit on it.

This third time is kind of lame. I have a cold.

I get sick around this time every year. When I look back on my life, I can clearly remember the circumstances of getting sick every October, because 1) I rarely get sick, and 2) it is seriously an annual occurrence almost to the day. During my sophomore year of college, getting sick coincided with Greek Week and I stupidly figured that a bunch of alcohol in my bloodstream would kill all the germs (wrong), so I kept going to parties all week until finally I fell asleep. At the bar. At 8:00 p.m. on a Saturday night. A trip to the doctor's office showed that a cold had evolved in to a sinus infection AND a DOUBLE ear infection--awesome! (Dumb.) During my senior year of high school, getting sick coincided with the ADPi 5k and it rained and I was so pissed that I had to be sick, standing in the rain, holding a sign that directed people along the route.

This year, being sick coincided with a dinner party that I'd been planning for over a month. Yesterday I woke up with what was obviously going to be A Bad Cold. And last night I had friends over to eat lasagna and swap good books and drink wine and talk about life. After all this planning and anticipation, I wasn't about to let a (bad) cold get in the way! Oh no! So I ate lasagna and gave out a few books and definitely drank too much wine (because clearly I am kind of dumb) and talked about life.

And then I woke up this morning sounding a lot like Barry White.

Ordinarily, I wouldn't let A Bad Cold stop me from going to school. The guilt! The shame! The falling-behind-ness! But this morning when I got up, I took my temperature, and I had a fever. And the cardinal rule for this kind of situation, according to my mother, is You Can't Stay Home From School Unless You Have A Fever. And I did! I had a fever! Which doesn't normally happen when I get colds!

This is as good a time as any to point out that I have a resting body temperature of 97.7--almost a full degree below the "norm" of 98.6. The implications of this are HUGE. For example, if my temperature is 99, that's like other people having a fever of 100! Which is a fever NO DOUBT! When I think of all the times over the years when I was sick and my mom would take my temperature and it would be 98.6 and she wouldn't let me stay home because it was "normal" when in fact it was NOT--I was instead running a low-grade fever--I really could just cry. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH DAYTIME TV I WAS ROBBED OF!??!

So. I had a fever. And I called my mom, to 1) ask her what I should do, which was really 2) getting her to justify that I was okay in staying home from school tomorrow, because 3) she's got the strictest standards for that kind of stuff. My mom said what I thought she would--that I should stay home from school. That I had a fever! That meant I could stay home! And even if I DIDN'T have a fever--I should still stay home! To rest up! Because being a teacher is hard work!

Now, here's the rub: having your mom tell you that you're sick and can stay home from school just isn't the same at 25 as it was at 12. At 12, even though you feel like garbage and you're snotting everywhere and your throat has the surface quality of a belt sander--you don't have to go to school! You can stay home and watch Nick Jr. and Sally Jesse Raphael and sleep in your mom's waterbed and eat all the ice cream and then blame it on your brother later! But at 25, you just feel guilty. I waited until 4:00 to call my cooperating teachers to let them know I won't be coming in (after taking my temperature and making sure that I still had The Necessary Fever) because I wanted to see if napping would make a difference. Both teachers were totally understanding--hey, people get sick, I can cover you, no problemo--but I still feel like a schmuck, like I ought to suck it up and go in. Except that I know that if I do, 1) I might still be contagious and give people my sick! 2) it will take me all of this week and most of the next to really "get better, and 3) I will be totally miserable and ineffective. The idea of teaching my 6th period tomorrow makes me want to die.

I know my husband is totally going to give me an eye roll later for staying home (earlier, he was all, "you're an adult and you can do what you want, but I really think you shouldn't stay home tomorrow") but I think it is the best idea. So I'll be here, camped out with my lotion-y tissues and my lo-cal orange juice, and I'll write some lesson plans and all will be okay in the world.

In other news--as of today, my husband and I have been together for 3 years. He says it doesn't count as an anniversary anymore, no not really, because we're married now and the dating anniversary is now a moot point. I say, can it. Because I made a pumpkin-and-chocolate-chip cake that I'm about to cover in cream cheese frosting, and if there's one thing that cream cheese frosting screams, it's THANKS FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME FOR OVER 1000 DAYS!