I actually had the chance to go to South Padre with some friends for a wedding. I've never been to South Padre, and my husband volunteered to watch my son so I could go with the girls. Although there was still some debate about where exactly we would be staying (the hotel was supposed to open in March but was STILL not "officially" opened when we got there), I decided I would thoroughly enjoy time to eat, drink, and be merry.
Well, the first disappointment came when the airplane hit a storm over Houston and caused my dear friend KHam and me to get more than slightly motion sick. We both knew that our other two companions for this trip would not be able to make it since their personal jet would not be able to fly through the rough air. Bummer. By the time we landed and got our luggage, we just wanted to get to the hotel, order some room service, and chill until we fell asleep.
Enter problemo numero dos: the Hilton Garden Inn was not officially open. I should have seen there would be trouble when the only thing in the ghost town of a hotel were the two employees at the check in counter surrounded by spirals and loose pieces of paper. That's right. No computers. The hotel did not have its computer system in yet and resorted to keeping notes on random pieces of paper. Again, I was tired, and KHam was tired. We were also trying to stay optimistic since it wasn't a weekend about us but rather our sweet friend getting married. (However, our spirits were quickly dampened by the pungent fresh paint fumes and sporadic piles of construction trash in the hallways.)
After making our way to our room (which they still charged us FULL PRICE for-trust me the Hilton company is getting a letter), we discovered that there was NO ROOM SERVICE. Yep, I paid $200/night for a hotel without room service. Now I was just starting to get ticked. So KHam and I made ourselves presentable (we changed our sweatpants to jeans) and called a cab to find something to eat. By 10 that night, we were tired, still pretty hungry (not impressed with the local cuisine), and shortly discovered we didn't have hot water (I believe tepid would be a good way to describe it). God was kind to us because Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was on television. Since our adoration for the adventures of this boy wizard is one reason we are such great friends, we watched that till we fell asleep.
With the hot water working satisfactorily by the next morning, I was starting to feel a little better about everything. The true test was going to be if the Hilton Garden Inn would be able to pull off my friend's reception. Much to my surprise, the Hilton DID manage to make the reception quite beautiful. I was happy for my friend's sake because no bride should have a crappy wedding. So in the end it turned out great for my friend. But I still maintain that I should not be charged full price for a hotel that is, in essence, "out of service."
Now, my gal pal KHam mentioned also blogging about the experience, and I'm sure it will be much more entertaining. I've also moved on passed a lot of the frustration I felt, so this post lacks a lot of the passion it would have contained had I been able to blog at the hotel.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Saturday, July 03, 2010
My Voice of Reason has a British Accent
Since I am completely done with graduate work...FOREVER, I was able to take a nap this afternoon. Of course my dreams unleashed anxieties and irritations in various unconscious adventures. I am a HUGE believer in the Collective Unconscious and dream interpretation a la Jung and Freud; therefore, dreams are worth exploring to understand what my brain is trying to tell me when I cannot get in the way. (Please don't misunderstand. I do not believe a person can simply go online and type in "clock" to see what a "dream dictionary" says it means. That is rubbish and a waste of time. It's more useful to look into historical symbolism of all aspects of a dream then apply them to my life not generalize how they would work in all lives.)
This particular dream threw me into an Austen-style cottage with my husband and son on vacation (no big surprise since I'm currently reading Sense and Sensibility). After a myriad of events (on the surface very random-in my dream making all the sense in the world), I was confused, angry, and ready to run away from everything happening. Then who should appear, Russell Brand who sat with me and rationalized a lot of what was happening to me in my life/dream. Okay, let's step back and think about this for a moment. The person my unconscious chose to dispense logic to my conscious was Russell Brand:
One more time to recap: Russell Brand is the form my OWN UNCONSCIOUS MIND chose to be a voice of reason. If you don't know who this man is or know of him but nothing about his life, please Wikipedia him at least. Then perhaps you'll see the irony in all of this.
Don't get me wrong. I am a fan of Mr. Brand. I loved Forgetting Sarah Marshall because of him. It's just I'm not a fan of his like I am of Colin Firth or Alan Rickman or James McAvoy or Orlando Bloom. So why this particular British superstar? That's what my conscious mind will be trying to decode for a while.
This particular dream threw me into an Austen-style cottage with my husband and son on vacation (no big surprise since I'm currently reading Sense and Sensibility). After a myriad of events (on the surface very random-in my dream making all the sense in the world), I was confused, angry, and ready to run away from everything happening. Then who should appear, Russell Brand who sat with me and rationalized a lot of what was happening to me in my life/dream. Okay, let's step back and think about this for a moment. The person my unconscious chose to dispense logic to my conscious was Russell Brand:
Don't get me wrong. I am a fan of Mr. Brand. I loved Forgetting Sarah Marshall because of him. It's just I'm not a fan of his like I am of Colin Firth or Alan Rickman or James McAvoy or Orlando Bloom. So why this particular British superstar? That's what my conscious mind will be trying to decode for a while.
Thursday, July 01, 2010
Beautiful as Aphrodite. Wise as Athena.
If you were to ask any of my friends who I would be if given the chance, they would all answer with an adamant "Wonder Woman!" I love everything about the idea of being an ass kickin' female superhero who gets to share Justice League status with Superman and Batman. All of this is intriguing considering I've never seen or owned a single Wonder Woman comic (something I believe I shall remedy-Hello new hobby!). The first encounter I had with this amazing Amazon was Linda Carter:
A few years ago I was passing time shopping at my fave thrift store and found a Wonder Woman belt buckle for $2.75! It was a moment that the heavens opened and a beam of light shone down upon the coveted item. The buckle became mine, and three weeks later, while my husband and I were touring the Warner Bros. lot in California, I found the same buckle for $25. I knew then that God blessed me with my thrift store treasure. My fervor for the famous heroine was renewed.
When my husband informed me this morning that Wonder Woman has been given a make-over, I went into immediate denial and then frustration. Why would anyone dare to change an American icon? (Of course I was also a bit perturbed because I have a Wonder Woman costume I've never been able to wear, and the new image makes the costume obsolete.) Then I read the article discussing the changes and why they occurred. It makes sense. I mean Wonder Woman started out like this:
and she's recently appeared on Cartoon Network like this:
Even with the changing times, Wonder Woman's image stayed relatively the same. I must admit, there is something a little degrading about expecting such a tough gal to parade around in, essentially, underwear. Sure 13-year-old boys probably don't mind, but I know that if I had a daughter, I would want my childhood heroine to embody strength while still maintaining modesty. It's important for girls to realize women can be heroic without being whore-oic (like that? Yeah word play is fun).
So after much contemplation, I have given my stamp of approval to the new image of Wonder Woman:
She's still sexy, but I would much prefer this defender of justice to even Linda Carter's interpretation. Needless to say, I eagerly await the day Warner Bros. finally gives Wonder Woman her own feature film. Until that day, I will stay a diligent devotee.
I know that my mother has pictures of me in my Wonder Woman underoos somewhere. Even though I didn't immediately begin cataloging every issue of Wonder Woman to pop out of DC, my adoration did not necessarily stop.
When my husband informed me this morning that Wonder Woman has been given a make-over, I went into immediate denial and then frustration. Why would anyone dare to change an American icon? (Of course I was also a bit perturbed because I have a Wonder Woman costume I've never been able to wear, and the new image makes the costume obsolete.) Then I read the article discussing the changes and why they occurred. It makes sense. I mean Wonder Woman started out like this:
and she's recently appeared on Cartoon Network like this:
Even with the changing times, Wonder Woman's image stayed relatively the same. I must admit, there is something a little degrading about expecting such a tough gal to parade around in, essentially, underwear. Sure 13-year-old boys probably don't mind, but I know that if I had a daughter, I would want my childhood heroine to embody strength while still maintaining modesty. It's important for girls to realize women can be heroic without being whore-oic (like that? Yeah word play is fun).
So after much contemplation, I have given my stamp of approval to the new image of Wonder Woman:
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
Sculpting Lives is What I Do
At 10:50 P.M. I have successfully completed my first official day of summer vacation. I spent a majority of the day doing reading and writing for my night class which is starting to seem a little tedious because we have to meet three nights a week instead of only one. The up side is that this particular class focuses on youth in America and how it's been defined over the past century. Therefore, I am interested in the subject matter.
One of the cool things we did last week was watch Blackboard Jungle a movie made in 1955. This is the film that began the inspirational teacher film genre. There is an optimistic new teacher, Mr. Dadier, who is hired to "teach" in a high school full of gang members and delinquents all of whom live in poverty in this inner city neighborhood. Interestingly, this movie is incredibly provocative for what I thought would be allowed in theaters in the 50s. Here is the trailer, and even though the movie isn't unbelievably terrifying and the trailer is a little cheesy, it might give you a good idea of what started films that focus on the lives of educators (I could only find one with Spanish subtitles):
And yes, that is an uncredited Sidney Poitier you see in the trailer. I love that he plays one of the lead hoods in this film because in To Sir With Love he is the optimistic teacher in a classroom full of troubled teens. Aside from the handsomely young Poitier, I really admire the stance this film takes in the end regarding two characters who simply refuse to conform. I don't mean in a "stick it to the Man because we should be free" kind of way. One of them, Artie West, is dead set against furthering his life beyond harassing Mr. Dadier's wife, beating up teachers, stealing, and pulling a switchblade on Mr. Dadier in class. Therefore by the end of the film while all the other students begin to set higher expectations for themselves, Artie goes to jail. I like that. It has nothing to do with him being misunderstood or from an unstable home. He is simply a rotten human being who makes the decision to stay rotten. I think we have lost this idea somewhere in education. Do I believe some students just cannot be reached? Yes and I believe most teachers who have movies made about their lives will agree with me. The number is minuscule, like maybe one or two kids for every 100 or so, which is why I much prefer focusing on the ones that are reachable.
So my fellow teachers, I tip my hat off to you and offer you this list of movies to inspire teachers (in no particular order), according to various lists. I took the ones that I agree with the most:
1. Stand and Deliver (1988)--though I am terrible at math, I know that Jaime Escalante could have taught me Calculus
2. Blackboard Jungle (1955)--aside from its overbearing patriotism because of its setting during the Cold War era, I love everything about this film because it shows me how education has been battling the same problems for over 60 years
3. Lean on Me (1989)--you only need one quote, "Mr. Clark don't play!"
4. Mr. Holland's Opus (1995)--sometimes we stumble upon our calling in life while waiting for our "real career" to take off
5. Renaissance Man (1994)--Henry V's St. Crispin Day speech was never the same for me after I saw this movie
6. Miracle Worker (1962)--I will always admire those who work with special needs children because that is a challenge I would not be able to meet
7. Dangerous Minds (1995)--I debated adding this one because it is a great film but I think the genre started getting too sentimental "oh it's not the kids they are from bad home lives" and as I mentioned with Blackboard Jungle, sometimes kids are just rotten because they choose to remain so
8. To Sir with Love (1967)--Wow, Sidney Poitier made the list twice. He must be a good actor or something...this film shows how educators know that sometimes we don't actually teach our subject matter but rather life skills students need to have in order to survive
9. The Karate Kid (1984)--when I saw this on one list I almost laughed until I saw the reason why and it made all the sense in the world: sometimes students have to trust the unconventional methods of their teachers because it becomes evident in a big picture sort of way later on
10. Okay, I couldn't agree on a number ten because I haven't seen three of the following and I've heard some people debate about whether or not Robin Williams actually made an impact on his students in the other one: Mona Lisa Smile, The Great Debaters, Dead Poets Society, Music of the Heart
As your minds relax for a brief moment before you see something that sparks an idea for a lesson for next year, enjoy one of these films. And if your brief moment isn't long enough for a whole movie, please enjoy this video made by my district. I get slightly choked up every time I watch because it defines what I do so very well (even with a couple of typos):
One of the cool things we did last week was watch Blackboard Jungle a movie made in 1955. This is the film that began the inspirational teacher film genre. There is an optimistic new teacher, Mr. Dadier, who is hired to "teach" in a high school full of gang members and delinquents all of whom live in poverty in this inner city neighborhood. Interestingly, this movie is incredibly provocative for what I thought would be allowed in theaters in the 50s. Here is the trailer, and even though the movie isn't unbelievably terrifying and the trailer is a little cheesy, it might give you a good idea of what started films that focus on the lives of educators (I could only find one with Spanish subtitles):
And yes, that is an uncredited Sidney Poitier you see in the trailer. I love that he plays one of the lead hoods in this film because in To Sir With Love he is the optimistic teacher in a classroom full of troubled teens. Aside from the handsomely young Poitier, I really admire the stance this film takes in the end regarding two characters who simply refuse to conform. I don't mean in a "stick it to the Man because we should be free" kind of way. One of them, Artie West, is dead set against furthering his life beyond harassing Mr. Dadier's wife, beating up teachers, stealing, and pulling a switchblade on Mr. Dadier in class. Therefore by the end of the film while all the other students begin to set higher expectations for themselves, Artie goes to jail. I like that. It has nothing to do with him being misunderstood or from an unstable home. He is simply a rotten human being who makes the decision to stay rotten. I think we have lost this idea somewhere in education. Do I believe some students just cannot be reached? Yes and I believe most teachers who have movies made about their lives will agree with me. The number is minuscule, like maybe one or two kids for every 100 or so, which is why I much prefer focusing on the ones that are reachable.
So my fellow teachers, I tip my hat off to you and offer you this list of movies to inspire teachers (in no particular order), according to various lists. I took the ones that I agree with the most:
1. Stand and Deliver (1988)--though I am terrible at math, I know that Jaime Escalante could have taught me Calculus
2. Blackboard Jungle (1955)--aside from its overbearing patriotism because of its setting during the Cold War era, I love everything about this film because it shows me how education has been battling the same problems for over 60 years
3. Lean on Me (1989)--you only need one quote, "Mr. Clark don't play!"
4. Mr. Holland's Opus (1995)--sometimes we stumble upon our calling in life while waiting for our "real career" to take off
5. Renaissance Man (1994)--Henry V's St. Crispin Day speech was never the same for me after I saw this movie
6. Miracle Worker (1962)--I will always admire those who work with special needs children because that is a challenge I would not be able to meet
7. Dangerous Minds (1995)--I debated adding this one because it is a great film but I think the genre started getting too sentimental "oh it's not the kids they are from bad home lives" and as I mentioned with Blackboard Jungle, sometimes kids are just rotten because they choose to remain so
8. To Sir with Love (1967)--Wow, Sidney Poitier made the list twice. He must be a good actor or something...this film shows how educators know that sometimes we don't actually teach our subject matter but rather life skills students need to have in order to survive
9. The Karate Kid (1984)--when I saw this on one list I almost laughed until I saw the reason why and it made all the sense in the world: sometimes students have to trust the unconventional methods of their teachers because it becomes evident in a big picture sort of way later on
10. Okay, I couldn't agree on a number ten because I haven't seen three of the following and I've heard some people debate about whether or not Robin Williams actually made an impact on his students in the other one: Mona Lisa Smile, The Great Debaters, Dead Poets Society, Music of the Heart
As your minds relax for a brief moment before you see something that sparks an idea for a lesson for next year, enjoy one of these films. And if your brief moment isn't long enough for a whole movie, please enjoy this video made by my district. I get slightly choked up every time I watch because it defines what I do so very well (even with a couple of typos):
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Damn the Man! Save the Empire! Part II
The second event that reinforced my desire to do right by my students regardless of "experts" dictating what I am supposed to do was my own recognition.
Two of my students chose me to receive a "SPUR" award during the annual awards ceremony. I received this because I "spur" them on to do great things and because our mascot is a stallion. Get it? Spur? Stallion? Okay, okay, it's a little cheesy but the point is that my students know that I care and will always make the best decisions for them. They might not always like the decision, but they appreciate it later.
I was also nominated for a $500 award for being such an awesome teacher. (I didn't win, but I was one of very few nominated.) This means that multiple students made a point to tell everyone that what I do matters. To my students I am teaching them so much more than English which is exactly how it should be.
It is for nights like this that I teach. Not to be recognized but to see that my students have learned from me and can take that with them when they graduate. I also teach for the brief times when a former student pops his/her head in my door for a quick 'hello' or 'have a nice day.' They know I love them and cherish all the memories we make in class. The fact that they learn some cool stuff along the way is a bonus.
So keep your stinkin' tests State Board of Education and your "minimal" standards and your desire to teach our kids learned helplessness and your stupid belief that failing a student damages a fragile ego. I'm going to teach the best way I know how and my kids will continuously succeed!
Two of my students chose me to receive a "SPUR" award during the annual awards ceremony. I received this because I "spur" them on to do great things and because our mascot is a stallion. Get it? Spur? Stallion? Okay, okay, it's a little cheesy but the point is that my students know that I care and will always make the best decisions for them. They might not always like the decision, but they appreciate it later.
I was also nominated for a $500 award for being such an awesome teacher. (I didn't win, but I was one of very few nominated.) This means that multiple students made a point to tell everyone that what I do matters. To my students I am teaching them so much more than English which is exactly how it should be.
It is for nights like this that I teach. Not to be recognized but to see that my students have learned from me and can take that with them when they graduate. I also teach for the brief times when a former student pops his/her head in my door for a quick 'hello' or 'have a nice day.' They know I love them and cherish all the memories we make in class. The fact that they learn some cool stuff along the way is a bonus.
So keep your stinkin' tests State Board of Education and your "minimal" standards and your desire to teach our kids learned helplessness and your stupid belief that failing a student damages a fragile ego. I'm going to teach the best way I know how and my kids will continuously succeed!
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Damn The Man! Save the Empire! Part I
Okay, favorite movie quotes aside, I recently experienced two things that in some small way makes me feel like I've really stuck it to "The Man." Who, in my case, is the Texas State Board of Education.
Last week our school held its annual Lighthouse Ceremony. Every school year each teacher chooses a student who has inspired the teacher in some way, a student who has made positive behavioral changes regarding his/her education, or a student who is simply a great kid but might not always be the first one picked to receive the accolades allotted honors and gifted students. Therefore, the students become a "lighthouse" to help teachers always return to shore when things start getting rough.
Last week our school held its annual Lighthouse Ceremony. Every school year each teacher chooses a student who has inspired the teacher in some way, a student who has made positive behavioral changes regarding his/her education, or a student who is simply a great kid but might not always be the first one picked to receive the accolades allotted honors and gifted students. Therefore, the students become a "lighthouse" to help teachers always return to shore when things start getting rough.
Two days before school even started I received an e-mail from Anthony's mother informing me, "My son is a 9th grader in you reading class and I just wanted to send you a quick note with my email address in case you ever needed to discuss with me [his] progress. He does have ADD and struggles with Reading." Oh great, what a way to start the new year. I had not even met the kid and his mother was already doing damage control. The next three days (I see him on "B" days so I didn't even get to meet him on the first day of school) only gave me time to put a picture together of a kid bent on the destruction of my class with his wacky ADD (something that has not been diagnosable since the '80s by the way--seriously, look into a current Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fourth Edition (DSM-IV) no where is ADD listed, only ADHD). These kids are also always gigantic as if their stature makes up for any intellectual deficiencies. Needless to say, Anthony was not a kid I was just dying to meet.
I knew Anthony would be my lighthouse the moment I met him. He walked in with a smile on his face and a sincere, "Hello Miss." Normally I'm not a fan of the generic term "Miss" because the kids expect me to know their names; however, since it was just the second day of school I allowed Anthony's smile and demeanor to cover for it. He worked hard and paid great attention. Everything was "yes ma'am" or "May I?" or "please." This kid had impeccable manners! Not something I'm used to with remedial readers. I quickly realized the danger in pre-judging so many of my students based on others' actions or opinions. That's not to say that Anthony's "ADD" doesn't cause some difficult days, but he's always willing to work right next to me so I can keep him focused.
I was even the general education teacher assigned to his special education meeting. By the middle of the meeting I was enraged because Anthony was getting a raw deal with his education. Of course people who had zero idea of his potential and capabilities were trying to make decisions for him. I protested and won! This was one kid the "system" would not shove down the cracks! Anthony took all this in stride and continued to perform well in my class. There was no doubt that he deserved recognition for being a great kid.
The day of the ceremony arrived and Anthony's mother and grandfather were present to see me present him with his Lighthouse Award. It was evident by the look on Anthony's face that this is the first award he has ever received. He thanked me over and over and over. He would look at the Lighthouse picture of us together and then hug me and then look at the picture again and then thank me, etc. Even during the small reception his grandfather's pride beamed from that man in an overflowing way. Mom of course was so proud of her baby boy, and I enjoyed watching Anthony soak in the limelight for a while. It was his moment and every second was precious to him.
So take that State Board! No matter how many labels you place on a kid or poor choices you make for some kids regarding their education, there are teachers who are going to fight and acknowledge awesome kids for persevering.
Monday, April 19, 2010
When I'm Slightly Sleep Deprived
Here's what I wrote a couple of weeks ago for an assignment in creative writing. I hated it at the time, but when I'm incredibly tired it seems incredibly funny:
Often I ponder the mysteries of The Force and why the Jedi didn’t take full advantage of its power. Like, why didn’t they just stay home and drop huge objects on their enemies from afar. I mean, The Force is all around right? And Luke Skywalker always seemed like kind of a pansy to me. (Obi Wan should have trained Leia. She would have proved a much worthier student.) Even Yoda in his diminutive stance managed to battle Dooku and raise Luke’s spaceship from the muck of Degobah.
If You Say So Darth Vader
or How I Might Be Seduced by the Dark Side
or How I Might Be Seduced by the Dark Side
Often I ponder the mysteries of The Force and why the Jedi didn’t take full advantage of its power. Like, why didn’t they just stay home and drop huge objects on their enemies from afar. I mean, The Force is all around right? And Luke Skywalker always seemed like kind of a pansy to me. (Obi Wan should have trained Leia. She would have proved a much worthier student.) Even Yoda in his diminutive stance managed to battle Dooku and raise Luke’s spaceship from the muck of Degobah.
Then I imagine what it would take for Darth Vader to convince me to embrace his devious ways. The conversation goes something like this:
“Join me.” Heavy breathing. Heavy breathing.
“Why? What’s in it for me?” I take a parade rest stance while maintaining “eye” contact.
“The Dark Side of The Force allows you to use it to terrify those who don’t see the world as you wish them to see it.” Heavy breathing. Heavy breathing.
“Dude, I’m a teacher. I can terrify students without The Force.”
“Yes, but can you spin them upside down and pin them to the wall until they succumb to your every command?” Heavy breathing. Heavy breathing.
“Well no. That does sound like a useful tool.” At this point I would contemplate how I could enforce silence by clamping mouths shut without having to touch the students. Here is where Lord Vader would begin to see the foothold he has on me.
“Yes. I can sense you are giving in to the ease with which you can manage your classroom. Think of what we could do together!” Heavy breathing. Heavy breathing.
“What do you mean ‘together?’”
“I will help with the parents should they be upset by your usual methods.” Heavy breathing. Heavy breathing.
“And I would…?”
“You would be at the Emperor’s beck and call to proofread and edit all Galactic Imperial mandates. The last person who held that position performed unsatisfactorily.” Heavy breathing. Heavy breathing followed by a raised arm with the hand in the shape of a sideways “C” and the other hand gliding across his neck.
“And I could turn any child upside down or shut him up?”
“But of course.” Heavy breathing. Heavy breathing.
“When I die would I be able to come back glowing blue?”
“Uh…no.” Heavy breathing. Heavy breathing.
“No dice.”
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
A Little Complaining Never Hurt Anyone
Yesterday I attended my grandpa's funeral service. A loving and rather funny individual, my grandpa always seemed to be in a good mood. Only when he was hooked up to machines or under the influence of multiple dosages of a myriad of drugs did he ever cross over into an unpleasant nature. All in all, I believe my grandpa loved life and lived it the best way he could.
Of course losing him caused me to evaluate my own life because death is the best way to remind a person of her mortality. I like what I found when I started to look at my life. I try hard to do the right thing, laugh often (usually at myself), and let go of the bad. Sometimes I get frustrated and complain a little, but I feel that is a necessary facet of my humanity. However, I am appalled at the current trend of Facebook statuses that end with "FML."
Ask any teenager what those three letters mean, and they will be able to tell you without hesitation. That truly scares me. I remember how life and death everything could seem when I was a teenager. I also recall how unjust the world felt. That's because, like all teenagers, I was selfish and stupid.
Usually I find that hideous "FML" tag following a status where the teen didn't get his way or is being asked to do something for someone else without a "reward." Basically, the teen is being asked to be a decent human being.
I am disturbed because these kids don't know what they are really wishing upon themselves by wanting to f*** their lives. I find it hard to believe that whatever injustice has been done is worth forfeiting life. I cannot imagine that a teenager would want to give up his life because he has to do homework. This means that this tagline is being used rather flippantly. I don't like that teens are okay with using this kind of language and sentiment to define their lives. Why can't they look at what they do have? They have, God willing, years of fun and happiness and success and love and memories to build!
My grandfather fought degenerative heart issues up until he passed away. I promise he never once would have wanted to f*** his life. I want to post the comment "Shame on you for insulting one of the greatest gifts God has given you" every time I see "FML."
Now imagine how seeing "FML" at the end of one of my adult friends' posts, who should know better, makes me feel.
Complaint number two (then I'm done being negative I swear) centers around a billboard I saw the other day.
As I was driving down the highway, I saw a billboard sponsored by Texas Teachers that read "Want to teach? When can you start?" Gee, thanks for slapping me in the face. As one of my friends put it, "Any retard can teach." Even though I hate using the word "retard" in such a way, that is exactly how the billboard made me feel.
Why do I pour my heart and soul into my classroom and my students? Because it is what God has planned for me to do. Never once have I doubted this. My gift is to educate students and to make sure they are ready to conquer the world if they need to. It infuriates me when I find teachers who don't feel this way. I want them to stop wasting their time and ruining the students' lives.
That's probably the biggest reason I hate that billboard. Just because a person is educated doesn't mean he can be handed a teaching certification and shoved in a classroom. There are teachers who have been certified and in the profession for years and don't belong there.
In true Lydia fashion, I completely stuck my foot in my mouth when a friend of mine told me that Texas Teachers is the alternative certification program he is using to become certified (note--he's the same friend that so eloquently summed up my feelings about the billboard). After some quick back peddling, I tried to convince him that he definitely belongs in a classroom (though, since that conversation he has contemplated teaching in a private or boarding school setting--this would of course rob many worthy public school children of a strong English education--and yes, if he's reading this I hope he is feeling very, very guilty).
To sum it all up: Thank you Texas Teachers for making my job seem so easy a monkey could do it.
Okay, no more negative posts for a while:).
Of course losing him caused me to evaluate my own life because death is the best way to remind a person of her mortality. I like what I found when I started to look at my life. I try hard to do the right thing, laugh often (usually at myself), and let go of the bad. Sometimes I get frustrated and complain a little, but I feel that is a necessary facet of my humanity. However, I am appalled at the current trend of Facebook statuses that end with "FML."
Ask any teenager what those three letters mean, and they will be able to tell you without hesitation. That truly scares me. I remember how life and death everything could seem when I was a teenager. I also recall how unjust the world felt. That's because, like all teenagers, I was selfish and stupid.
Usually I find that hideous "FML" tag following a status where the teen didn't get his way or is being asked to do something for someone else without a "reward." Basically, the teen is being asked to be a decent human being.
I am disturbed because these kids don't know what they are really wishing upon themselves by wanting to f*** their lives. I find it hard to believe that whatever injustice has been done is worth forfeiting life. I cannot imagine that a teenager would want to give up his life because he has to do homework. This means that this tagline is being used rather flippantly. I don't like that teens are okay with using this kind of language and sentiment to define their lives. Why can't they look at what they do have? They have, God willing, years of fun and happiness and success and love and memories to build!
My grandfather fought degenerative heart issues up until he passed away. I promise he never once would have wanted to f*** his life. I want to post the comment "Shame on you for insulting one of the greatest gifts God has given you" every time I see "FML."
Now imagine how seeing "FML" at the end of one of my adult friends' posts, who should know better, makes me feel.
Complaint number two (then I'm done being negative I swear) centers around a billboard I saw the other day.
As I was driving down the highway, I saw a billboard sponsored by Texas Teachers that read "Want to teach? When can you start?" Gee, thanks for slapping me in the face. As one of my friends put it, "Any retard can teach." Even though I hate using the word "retard" in such a way, that is exactly how the billboard made me feel.
Why do I pour my heart and soul into my classroom and my students? Because it is what God has planned for me to do. Never once have I doubted this. My gift is to educate students and to make sure they are ready to conquer the world if they need to. It infuriates me when I find teachers who don't feel this way. I want them to stop wasting their time and ruining the students' lives.
That's probably the biggest reason I hate that billboard. Just because a person is educated doesn't mean he can be handed a teaching certification and shoved in a classroom. There are teachers who have been certified and in the profession for years and don't belong there.
In true Lydia fashion, I completely stuck my foot in my mouth when a friend of mine told me that Texas Teachers is the alternative certification program he is using to become certified (note--he's the same friend that so eloquently summed up my feelings about the billboard). After some quick back peddling, I tried to convince him that he definitely belongs in a classroom (though, since that conversation he has contemplated teaching in a private or boarding school setting--this would of course rob many worthy public school children of a strong English education--and yes, if he's reading this I hope he is feeling very, very guilty).
To sum it all up: Thank you Texas Teachers for making my job seem so easy a monkey could do it.
Okay, no more negative posts for a while:).
Thursday, April 01, 2010
Why I'll Never Be J.K. Rowling
The obvious comparison is that I'm not British; I'm Texan. That means her accent is way cooler than mine. Then there's the fact that I lead a happy, healthy, tragedy-free life. So really I am incapable of being a great writer. When you think about writers who work their way in to literary canons, they usually have survived some near death or hopeless struggle. Or they are around others who are near death or hopeless, and these things become the fuel behind their creative fires.
I don't struggle. I'm not near death (although I do teach high school English so it might equate on some level). Growing up was a good experience for me: no split parents, no tragic events, no abuse, etc. Is this such a terrible thing? I am loved. I like that:).
None of the above changes the fact that I'd like to write a least one novel. I would like to write something someone can relate to or be moved by. When my graduate program offered a class on writing the short story, I jumped right on it. It could be my chance to find something to substitute for the lack of "dark times" in my life.
Here's what I've learned so far:
My husband might be a little disappointed at this revelation because he is really counting on the movie deal for my first novel. But he'll get over it.
I don't struggle. I'm not near death (although I do teach high school English so it might equate on some level). Growing up was a good experience for me: no split parents, no tragic events, no abuse, etc. Is this such a terrible thing? I am loved. I like that:).
None of the above changes the fact that I'd like to write a least one novel. I would like to write something someone can relate to or be moved by. When my graduate program offered a class on writing the short story, I jumped right on it. It could be my chance to find something to substitute for the lack of "dark times" in my life.
Here's what I've learned so far:
- Audiences are not only vital but so contradictorily subjective. See, we have to critique short stories from everyone in class. Not that I think everyone should love my writing like I do, but all the comments I received did not help much. There were a few that made sense like, "You could probably delete this because you make your point well elsewhere" or "It might help to clarify this idea for people not familiar with this concept." But overall it was just frustrating. One person would like my "dark" humor and another was appalled that one of her son's teachers might be thinking such things (my story concerned a comedic encounter between an English teacher and Cliffs Notes that ends in arson). What am I supposed to do with that? To whom do I listen? I figure that the latter type of people would not be the ones inclined to read my novel (should one ever be written), and I'm okay with that until I realize...
- I'm slightly smarter than the average American, and that's apparently a problem. There are about four or five people in my class who I think are in the same boat. Actually, I'm sure of it because they are the same four or five who gave me useful information with regards to editing my piece. Plus, they tended to understand more of the subtleties in my writing. However, if I ever intended to reach mass market status, I fear I will have to cater to those less adept with higher order thinking skills. Am I willing to do that? Probably not.
- In the end, no one can truly teach about writing. I know books have been written and workshops are given, but none of it matters. I will either write something worth reading or I won't. An editor will tell me how to fix it, not an eclectic collection of night school college students.
My husband might be a little disappointed at this revelation because he is really counting on the movie deal for my first novel. But he'll get over it.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
I've Reached a Verdict
Loathing a jury summons is almost as American as apple pie in my world. I teach in the public school system for cryin' out loud! Why should I still be subjected to serving my country by sitting in a room with hundreds of strangers hoping I'll be out early enough to grab a decent lunch and afternoon nap?
Today it occurred to me that hating jury duty does not stem from the fact that it takes me out of my classroom for a whole day, which should be enough. No, I despise jury duty because the city does nothing to show me any kind of gratitude for bothering to show up.
I've served at the main courthouse downtown and at the jail/courthouse. However, my summons this time was for the municipal court, a building I've only ever seen in passing. (Actually, the only thing I knew about it before today was that it was where Oswald was placed after the Kennedy Assassination. I didn't know they actually still used the building.) Usually the summons tells you where to park, but this one didn't. Problem #1 and this was before I even left my house.
I left with plenty of time to drop my son off at daycare and face some morning traffic to get to the building on time. Now, I know that downtown likes to play cruel tricks on unsuspecting drivers with one way streets that make getting lost easy and getting back on track a pain in the neck. Well today my problem was NOT wanting to make a turn in a direction a street did not permit. The problem was that even though I needed and wanted to turn left and the street was a one way going left, drivers are not allowed to turn left on the left going one way street between the hours of 7 and 9 A.M. (It was 8:30 A.M.) WHAT THE DEUCE?! That makes zero sense. How can I possibly turn around if I'm not allowed to turn down any streets? I ended up passing one of my friend's apartment building three times today because all I could do was go up and down Main Street.
Once I managed to get back on the end of town where the Municipal Building is located, I realized that I had no idea where I was supposed to park. This court is already in a slightly seedy area and none of the "parking lots" manned by men with little orange flags to wave customers in were appealing to a mild-manner five footer from the suburbs. So again I had to drive all the way down to the other end of Main Street before being able to about face and look for a parking garage near the court (at this point it is 8:45 A.M.).
On my second round about the Municipal Building I notice a parking garage to my right. Yea! Oh wait...there it goes because I CANNOT TURN ONTO THE STREET WHERE THE ENTRANCE IS LOCATED. Son of a...
Finally at 9:00 A.M. I pulled into the parking garage and notice it will cost me $12 to park there. Maybe they validate? (Turns out they don't. Gee, what a gracious way to thank me for my civil service.)
At least I parked near the garage entrance that is directly across the street from the building entrance. Nope, wrong! They even posted a police officer at the door to tell people that the entrance we had to use was around the corner. Then why on Earth would you have an entrance where you would need to post an officer if it's not used as an entrance?
I must be spoiled from my other jury duty experiences because I found this place a complete dump. It has to be the arm pit of our city's justice system. Come 9:30 A.M. (the time the summons demanded we report) and no one bothers to come to the dilapidated juror room to greet us or inform us about what would be going on for the day. There's not even an electronic system to give us a number for sorting purposes. (I'm still convinced they just threw all of our summons into a gigantic hat and picked the 15 they needed.) At 10:15 A.M. a very nice judge came in and made us recite our oaths. By 12:30 P.M. I was on my way to meet my mom for lunch.
In the end I was not chosen. BUT it doesn't change how unappreciated I truly feel because the city did nothing to make it easier for me to be at jury duty. At least they could have gone halfsies with me on my parking!
Today it occurred to me that hating jury duty does not stem from the fact that it takes me out of my classroom for a whole day, which should be enough. No, I despise jury duty because the city does nothing to show me any kind of gratitude for bothering to show up.
I've served at the main courthouse downtown and at the jail/courthouse. However, my summons this time was for the municipal court, a building I've only ever seen in passing. (Actually, the only thing I knew about it before today was that it was where Oswald was placed after the Kennedy Assassination. I didn't know they actually still used the building.) Usually the summons tells you where to park, but this one didn't. Problem #1 and this was before I even left my house.
I left with plenty of time to drop my son off at daycare and face some morning traffic to get to the building on time. Now, I know that downtown likes to play cruel tricks on unsuspecting drivers with one way streets that make getting lost easy and getting back on track a pain in the neck. Well today my problem was NOT wanting to make a turn in a direction a street did not permit. The problem was that even though I needed and wanted to turn left and the street was a one way going left, drivers are not allowed to turn left on the left going one way street between the hours of 7 and 9 A.M. (It was 8:30 A.M.) WHAT THE DEUCE?! That makes zero sense. How can I possibly turn around if I'm not allowed to turn down any streets? I ended up passing one of my friend's apartment building three times today because all I could do was go up and down Main Street.
Once I managed to get back on the end of town where the Municipal Building is located, I realized that I had no idea where I was supposed to park. This court is already in a slightly seedy area and none of the "parking lots" manned by men with little orange flags to wave customers in were appealing to a mild-manner five footer from the suburbs. So again I had to drive all the way down to the other end of Main Street before being able to about face and look for a parking garage near the court (at this point it is 8:45 A.M.).
On my second round about the Municipal Building I notice a parking garage to my right. Yea! Oh wait...there it goes because I CANNOT TURN ONTO THE STREET WHERE THE ENTRANCE IS LOCATED. Son of a...
Finally at 9:00 A.M. I pulled into the parking garage and notice it will cost me $12 to park there. Maybe they validate? (Turns out they don't. Gee, what a gracious way to thank me for my civil service.)
At least I parked near the garage entrance that is directly across the street from the building entrance. Nope, wrong! They even posted a police officer at the door to tell people that the entrance we had to use was around the corner. Then why on Earth would you have an entrance where you would need to post an officer if it's not used as an entrance?
I must be spoiled from my other jury duty experiences because I found this place a complete dump. It has to be the arm pit of our city's justice system. Come 9:30 A.M. (the time the summons demanded we report) and no one bothers to come to the dilapidated juror room to greet us or inform us about what would be going on for the day. There's not even an electronic system to give us a number for sorting purposes. (I'm still convinced they just threw all of our summons into a gigantic hat and picked the 15 they needed.) At 10:15 A.M. a very nice judge came in and made us recite our oaths. By 12:30 P.M. I was on my way to meet my mom for lunch.
In the end I was not chosen. BUT it doesn't change how unappreciated I truly feel because the city did nothing to make it easier for me to be at jury duty. At least they could have gone halfsies with me on my parking!
Sunday, March 21, 2010
13 Going on 30
This weekend ABC "Family" (the family is in quotes because most of the programming I would never watch with my children because it is quite inappropriate) had a Harry Potter weekend. On Saturday they played movies one through four, and today they played two through five. Not only did I watch both days, I even debated watching movie six before going to bed. But the more mature thing to do is go to bed since I have work in the morning.
Whilst watching these films on television, all of which I own on DVD, it occurred to me how attached I am to the entire character list from the book series as well as the actors and actresses playing them in the movie versions. I have to be honest: I've read the series a minimum of three times and can quote the movies almost as well as episodes of The Golden Girls (that's for another post). It is just so well put together, and each character can feel so real. When I watch the movies all in a row or read the books right before a new movie comes out, I see these people grow up.
Today my eyes actually teared up slightly when I realized that the final movie comes out July of 2011. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest are very real to me in the sense that I can suspend my disbelief long enough to buy into their adventures and lives. This means that should I ever be blessed in a way to meet Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, or any of the numerous famous British actors that parade through the series I would turn into a useless 13-year-old. I would get some weird hot flash, sweaty palms, barely be able to speak, etc.
Whilst watching these films on television, all of which I own on DVD, it occurred to me how attached I am to the entire character list from the book series as well as the actors and actresses playing them in the movie versions. I have to be honest: I've read the series a minimum of three times and can quote the movies almost as well as episodes of The Golden Girls (that's for another post). It is just so well put together, and each character can feel so real. When I watch the movies all in a row or read the books right before a new movie comes out, I see these people grow up.
Today my eyes actually teared up slightly when I realized that the final movie comes out July of 2011. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest are very real to me in the sense that I can suspend my disbelief long enough to buy into their adventures and lives. This means that should I ever be blessed in a way to meet Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, or any of the numerous famous British actors that parade through the series I would turn into a useless 13-year-old. I would get some weird hot flash, sweaty palms, barely be able to speak, etc.
I have to face facts. At 30ish years of age, I'm still a nerd. That's what this is really about.
(Don't pretend. I really, really would like to meet them.)
A Spring in My Step*
Saturday is coming to a close which means my Spring Break will be over in about 24 hours. Usually, I pine for all the lost time and what I wish I'd accomplished over the break. Usually, my house is still a wreck, laundry still needs to be washed, papers need to be graded, and grocery shopping needs to be done. I always feel so worthless after these breaks because I mostly sleep and watch television. Well, I can proudly say that I did not allow my break to pass me by this year. My house is clean, laundry is caught up, and Chris went to get groceries for us this evening. Of course I still didn't grade any papers, but I can live with that. Actually, the only reason I am still awake is to take full advantage of all my time left (plus The Karate Kid is on).
I also think I feel great about this week because of the Lenten Mission I attended Monday through Wednesday. Fr. Dennis of The Brooklyn Oratory spoke about joy. How cool is that? Belonging to a religious order that goes around preaching about experiencing joy would be an awesome way to work for the Lord. Anyway, I thought I would share a bit about what this has done for me. Naturally, I am not going to give an exact overview of each day (who would read a post that long?), but I would like to condense my favorite parts.
The overall message of the three days was: Forgiveness leads to spiritual wellness which leads to joy.
Night one really defined forgiveness for me. I know it is not approval to continue the act and that the only thing stopping me from forgiving is my own stupid pride. What really struck me is that forgiving is only the beginning of the healing process. I need to realize some people are too toxic to have in my life and will continue to hurt me. After forgiving those people, I will need to remove them from my life and move on to reaching joy. Since no one is in a position to condemn anyone else ("For as you judge, so will you be judged, and the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you." Mt. 7:2), once I forgive someone from my heart I cannot continue to "seek justice" by wishing horrible things upon them.
Night two discussed the environment for forgiveness which, of course, is the truth. When I forgive someone I will have to face some truths. These truths might be humbling and I might not like facing my own inhumanity (or the inhumane thing that was done to me). I must ultimately ask, "How true am I being in my life?" The closer I grow to God in the truth the stronger my spiritual wellness. It is important for me to remember that the truth cannot overwhelm me if I embrace it and rely on God to allow it to set me free.
The last night was by far my favorite because it shows that there is a light at the end of a healing tunnel. That is reaching joy! Fr. Dennis gave us nine ways to develop joy:
The most moving thing we read during the mission was this poem that Mother Teresa put on the wall of her school in Calcutta:
It was a very rewarding three days. My whole life feels refreshed and ready to take on the rest of the school year:).
*As you can see, my blog underwent a face lift. It turns out that the old black background with hot pink type was causing me mild headaches (I guess my eyes don't work as well as they did when I first set up my blog). I found a background that still expresses me and is much easier to read.
I also think I feel great about this week because of the Lenten Mission I attended Monday through Wednesday. Fr. Dennis of The Brooklyn Oratory spoke about joy. How cool is that? Belonging to a religious order that goes around preaching about experiencing joy would be an awesome way to work for the Lord. Anyway, I thought I would share a bit about what this has done for me. Naturally, I am not going to give an exact overview of each day (who would read a post that long?), but I would like to condense my favorite parts.
The overall message of the three days was: Forgiveness leads to spiritual wellness which leads to joy.
Night one really defined forgiveness for me. I know it is not approval to continue the act and that the only thing stopping me from forgiving is my own stupid pride. What really struck me is that forgiving is only the beginning of the healing process. I need to realize some people are too toxic to have in my life and will continue to hurt me. After forgiving those people, I will need to remove them from my life and move on to reaching joy. Since no one is in a position to condemn anyone else ("For as you judge, so will you be judged, and the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you." Mt. 7:2), once I forgive someone from my heart I cannot continue to "seek justice" by wishing horrible things upon them.
Night two discussed the environment for forgiveness which, of course, is the truth. When I forgive someone I will have to face some truths. These truths might be humbling and I might not like facing my own inhumanity (or the inhumane thing that was done to me). I must ultimately ask, "How true am I being in my life?" The closer I grow to God in the truth the stronger my spiritual wellness. It is important for me to remember that the truth cannot overwhelm me if I embrace it and rely on God to allow it to set me free.
The last night was by far my favorite because it shows that there is a light at the end of a healing tunnel. That is reaching joy! Fr. Dennis gave us nine ways to develop joy:
- Develop a short memory--stop revisiting the pain
- Keep learning, growing, expanding
- Be a good friend
- Thank someone who has enriched your life
- Overlook a flaw
- Count your blessings
- Look for humor in daily events
- Deepen your faith
- Make peace with your life
The most moving thing we read during the mission was this poem that Mother Teresa put on the wall of her school in Calcutta:
The Paradoxical Commandments
by Dr. Kent M. Keith
People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.
If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.
If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.
The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.
People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.
People really need help but may attack you if you do help them.
Help people anyway.
Give the world the best you have and you'll get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you have anyway.
© Copyright Kent M. Keith 1968, renewed 2001
by Dr. Kent M. Keith
People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.
If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.
If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.
The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.
People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.
People really need help but may attack you if you do help them.
Help people anyway.
Give the world the best you have and you'll get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you have anyway.
© Copyright Kent M. Keith 1968, renewed 2001
It was a very rewarding three days. My whole life feels refreshed and ready to take on the rest of the school year:).
*As you can see, my blog underwent a face lift. It turns out that the old black background with hot pink type was causing me mild headaches (I guess my eyes don't work as well as they did when I first set up my blog). I found a background that still expresses me and is much easier to read.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
If This is an Actual Medical Emergency...
My upcoming Spring Break is more than much needed. I'm pretty sure that if it was not next week I would end up in a padded room. Really it comes down to this past entire year. April 27, 2009 I gave birth to my glorious baby boy. As much as I adore him, that event has wreaked havoc on my body. I'm not talking typical baby weight I can't lose or things sagging that used to be much perkier. I mean my body thinks it is 80 years old.
At the moment I am on four different prescription medications. Good grief, I'm only 29 years old. I've also had to have three different day procedures and a couple of visits to the emergency room (I don't even have to fill out paperwork in the ER anymore-I'm in the system). It is also disheartening that every call I make to an office starts with: "If this is a true medical emergency, please hang up and dial 911."
So I've decided to find all the things to be thankful for this past year. Otherwise it would be too easy for me to dwell in the doldrums of my physical health. When I started making an effort to be thankful every day, I realized how miserable so many people choose to be. It actually started to hurt knowing that some people have completely shut themselves off to all hope and goodness in the human race.
The idea that humanity is beyond salvation has really plagued my mind. Too many cynics are droning on about how irresponsible people are bringing so many children into the world who cannot be properly cared for. Although I like to joke about the opening scene to Idiocracy, I need to believe that good can and is still being done in the world. Maybe that's why I have been particularly overjoyed at the news that so many of my friends are pregnant or will soon be having babies. I know my friends are loving and competent people. I have faith that they will teach their children how to care and create and respect and learn and forgive and all the other things that seem so easy to overlook in society.
These attributes I hope to impart to my son and any other children I may be blessed to have.
At the moment I am on four different prescription medications. Good grief, I'm only 29 years old. I've also had to have three different day procedures and a couple of visits to the emergency room (I don't even have to fill out paperwork in the ER anymore-I'm in the system). It is also disheartening that every call I make to an office starts with: "If this is a true medical emergency, please hang up and dial 911."
So I've decided to find all the things to be thankful for this past year. Otherwise it would be too easy for me to dwell in the doldrums of my physical health. When I started making an effort to be thankful every day, I realized how miserable so many people choose to be. It actually started to hurt knowing that some people have completely shut themselves off to all hope and goodness in the human race.
The idea that humanity is beyond salvation has really plagued my mind. Too many cynics are droning on about how irresponsible people are bringing so many children into the world who cannot be properly cared for. Although I like to joke about the opening scene to Idiocracy, I need to believe that good can and is still being done in the world. Maybe that's why I have been particularly overjoyed at the news that so many of my friends are pregnant or will soon be having babies. I know my friends are loving and competent people. I have faith that they will teach their children how to care and create and respect and learn and forgive and all the other things that seem so easy to overlook in society.
These attributes I hope to impart to my son and any other children I may be blessed to have.
Friday, March 05, 2010
When the Sun Shines Good Things Happen
My last post highlighted some humor on behalf of one of my gifted and talented (GT) students. It is much easier to be an impassioned teacher with them because they tend to validate what I do more often than other students I have.
These "other students" are definitely my remedial reading kids. When I accepted the offer to teach them, I hoped I would be earning some teaching "street cred." I knew they would be slower learners and barely able to read. I even knew they might be a bit difficult behaviorally. What I didn't know was how great the disparity between teaching remedial readers and GT students would be or how miserable it would make me. Imagine spending 90 minutes telling students to stop poking each other with pencils, to hand a book back to its owner, to sit properly in a chair, to stop picking their teeth with the pen they borrowed from me, etc. and then the next 90 minutes trying to stimulate minds who are ready to discuss stoicism and Marcus Aurelius' Meditations. Exhaustion is not strong enough for what I feel. Plus, the reading students don't tend to care about what I'm trying to teach them or what they should be learning. Rarely do I feel like I'm getting through.
HOWEVER, this morning the term "antagonist" came up in our lesson. One of my readers raised his hand and said, "Oh Mrs. Croupe, they had that word on the TAKS test. I remembered that in class we talked about 'anti-' meaning 'against.' That's how I figured out the answer."
Now, imagine me smiling.
These "other students" are definitely my remedial reading kids. When I accepted the offer to teach them, I hoped I would be earning some teaching "street cred." I knew they would be slower learners and barely able to read. I even knew they might be a bit difficult behaviorally. What I didn't know was how great the disparity between teaching remedial readers and GT students would be or how miserable it would make me. Imagine spending 90 minutes telling students to stop poking each other with pencils, to hand a book back to its owner, to sit properly in a chair, to stop picking their teeth with the pen they borrowed from me, etc. and then the next 90 minutes trying to stimulate minds who are ready to discuss stoicism and Marcus Aurelius' Meditations. Exhaustion is not strong enough for what I feel. Plus, the reading students don't tend to care about what I'm trying to teach them or what they should be learning. Rarely do I feel like I'm getting through.
HOWEVER, this morning the term "antagonist" came up in our lesson. One of my readers raised his hand and said, "Oh Mrs. Croupe, they had that word on the TAKS test. I remembered that in class we talked about 'anti-' meaning 'against.' That's how I figured out the answer."
Now, imagine me smiling.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
English Teacher Humor
One of my students approached me two days ago and this is what she said:
"So Croupe, my sister just got a new texting phone and while she was trying to send a message she screamed at it, 'Where is your apostrophe?' And I said, 'Ha! That is apostrophe!'"
For my exhausted colleagues: know that someone in your class is listening.
Also, checkout Wallwisher for a cool Web 2.0 tool for brainstorming or just for fun. Here's the link to mine:
www.wallwisher.com/wall/smilefile
"So Croupe, my sister just got a new texting phone and while she was trying to send a message she screamed at it, 'Where is your apostrophe?' And I said, 'Ha! That is apostrophe!'"
For my exhausted colleagues: know that someone in your class is listening.
Also, checkout Wallwisher for a cool Web 2.0 tool for brainstorming or just for fun. Here's the link to mine:
www.wallwisher.com/wall/smilefile
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Welcome to Real Life
Today I had a student earnestly furious with my decision to move up the due date of the research paper by three days. The reason, though irrelevant since it is my classroom and I can move due dates if I need to, is because the electronic way I planned on accepting papers fell through. (I now need the paper in hard copy form before the students leave for Spring Break.)
Anyway, this student actually threw a mini-fit and shut down during class because of my decision. I reminded him that he has had the research paper assignment since October 2009. His response was something to the effect of, "Yeah but the due date's in like three weeks." That's correct. Yet, I only upped the due date by three days; therefore, even before I made the change, the papers were due in three weeks. I again reminded him that he has had since last October to be working on the paper. He asked if he could speak with me after class.
After class he started getting a bit indignant about my decision. So AGAIN I reminded him he's had since last fall to be working on the paper. He assured me that he has his ideas and primary/secondary sources ready (to which I wanted to ask what the problem was), but he just wasn't ready to get them all down on paper. I told him it was okay because if he is as prepared as he claims, he has the next three weeks to take care of the paper part.
At this point he began mumbling about all the other assignments he has going on and how he might have to let another class go downhill to complete his paper (the one that only had its due date changed by THREE DAYS). Now my students know they will receive very little sympathy from me regarding their busy schedules: 1. I was in band, yearbook, had a part time job, and still managed to pass all my GT classes. 2. This will be the easiest time of their lives because the public school system has mollified any real sense of responsibility to learn on their part.
I told him I had complete confidence in his ability to take care of business without having to suffer a grade slide in any other class. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because he gave me a look that said, "you better hope I never bring a gun to school or you'll be first."
It was at this point we got to the root of the problem because he exclaimed, "It's just that I have a whole lot of work and not enough fun to balance it out."
WELCOME TO REAL LIFE KIDDO!
Anyway, this student actually threw a mini-fit and shut down during class because of my decision. I reminded him that he has had the research paper assignment since October 2009. His response was something to the effect of, "Yeah but the due date's in like three weeks." That's correct. Yet, I only upped the due date by three days; therefore, even before I made the change, the papers were due in three weeks. I again reminded him that he has had since last October to be working on the paper. He asked if he could speak with me after class.
After class he started getting a bit indignant about my decision. So AGAIN I reminded him he's had since last fall to be working on the paper. He assured me that he has his ideas and primary/secondary sources ready (to which I wanted to ask what the problem was), but he just wasn't ready to get them all down on paper. I told him it was okay because if he is as prepared as he claims, he has the next three weeks to take care of the paper part.
At this point he began mumbling about all the other assignments he has going on and how he might have to let another class go downhill to complete his paper (the one that only had its due date changed by THREE DAYS). Now my students know they will receive very little sympathy from me regarding their busy schedules: 1. I was in band, yearbook, had a part time job, and still managed to pass all my GT classes. 2. This will be the easiest time of their lives because the public school system has mollified any real sense of responsibility to learn on their part.
I told him I had complete confidence in his ability to take care of business without having to suffer a grade slide in any other class. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because he gave me a look that said, "you better hope I never bring a gun to school or you'll be first."
It was at this point we got to the root of the problem because he exclaimed, "It's just that I have a whole lot of work and not enough fun to balance it out."
WELCOME TO REAL LIFE KIDDO!
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Lots of Fish in the Sea-So Let's Eat Them!
Yesterday started for me at 5:00 A.M. and ended at 10:00 P.M. That is unusually long, but by the end of the day I felt tired in a good way.
Ash Wednesday meant that I was up and ready for 6:15 A.M. Mass with my baby boy who received ashes for the first time. There are numerous reasons why I love going to the first Ash Wednesday Mass of the day including not having to miss work to go during the day or miss class at night for the evening Mass. My favorite reason is so my ashes are visible all day long. As a faithful and humbly proud Catholic, I see the ashes as a sort of badge of honor. Ironic, I know, considering the ashes partly represent the sins I wish to repent and move away from during the Lenten season (and really for the rest of my life). It's just cool to see who is walking around with that undeniable smudge upon his/her forehead.
One of the best parts is when I see my students wear their ashes to school. To me it negates all the morons walking around with Rosaries as necklaces, something very disrespectful since a Rosary is NOT a piece of jewelry, to distinguish their "gang" relations (yes, they really choose to use a sacramental for dubious purposes). It's a great reminder that there are still teenagers in existence not ashamed to express their faith, or at least, parents out there still laying a foundation of faith for their children.
The most interesting occurrence is the trend for everyone, not just Catholic Christians, to jump on the Lenten bandwagon. Many Protestant Christians I know have started having Ash Wednesday services and distributing ashes. All of that is fantastic! Keep it up! I am overjoyed about this trend of Protestants coming back to many Catholic roots because those are some of the things I adore about my faith. When you participate in these kind of things my heart is happy because you too are experiencing the Lord on a new level.
Just please don't try to sell me on your denomination because it is doing all these awesome "new" things. The fact that they think they are doing something new and super holy is what is frustrating to me. Let's be fair to the Catholic Church. One reason, although definitely not the main reason, Protestants are Protestants is because they do not wish to follow all the traditions and Sacraments of the Catholic Church. Yet, I've witnessed Protestant churches distribute Communion the exact same way Catholics distribute it, and I've had Protestant students come to me in excitement about receiving ashes the exact same way Catholics receive them, etc.
I have friends and students who want to convince me that Catholic is not the way to go, but then they do very Catholic things. Please don't misunderstand, if you choose to observe the Lenten season by making a big deal about Ash Wednesday and abstaining* from something to make yourself a better Christian, you will have my 100% support. Instead of discounting my religion, let's chat about the two ways we believe. We can agree to disagree about some things and agree to agree about others. It might actually surprise some people to see how similar we really are.
Ash Wednesday meant that I was up and ready for 6:15 A.M. Mass with my baby boy who received ashes for the first time. There are numerous reasons why I love going to the first Ash Wednesday Mass of the day including not having to miss work to go during the day or miss class at night for the evening Mass. My favorite reason is so my ashes are visible all day long. As a faithful and humbly proud Catholic, I see the ashes as a sort of badge of honor. Ironic, I know, considering the ashes partly represent the sins I wish to repent and move away from during the Lenten season (and really for the rest of my life). It's just cool to see who is walking around with that undeniable smudge upon his/her forehead.
One of the best parts is when I see my students wear their ashes to school. To me it negates all the morons walking around with Rosaries as necklaces, something very disrespectful since a Rosary is NOT a piece of jewelry, to distinguish their "gang" relations (yes, they really choose to use a sacramental for dubious purposes). It's a great reminder that there are still teenagers in existence not ashamed to express their faith, or at least, parents out there still laying a foundation of faith for their children.
The most interesting occurrence is the trend for everyone, not just Catholic Christians, to jump on the Lenten bandwagon. Many Protestant Christians I know have started having Ash Wednesday services and distributing ashes. All of that is fantastic! Keep it up! I am overjoyed about this trend of Protestants coming back to many Catholic roots because those are some of the things I adore about my faith. When you participate in these kind of things my heart is happy because you too are experiencing the Lord on a new level.
Just please don't try to sell me on your denomination because it is doing all these awesome "new" things. The fact that they think they are doing something new and super holy is what is frustrating to me. Let's be fair to the Catholic Church. One reason, although definitely not the main reason, Protestants are Protestants is because they do not wish to follow all the traditions and Sacraments of the Catholic Church. Yet, I've witnessed Protestant churches distribute Communion the exact same way Catholics distribute it, and I've had Protestant students come to me in excitement about receiving ashes the exact same way Catholics receive them, etc.
I have friends and students who want to convince me that Catholic is not the way to go, but then they do very Catholic things. Please don't misunderstand, if you choose to observe the Lenten season by making a big deal about Ash Wednesday and abstaining* from something to make yourself a better Christian, you will have my 100% support. Instead of discounting my religion, let's chat about the two ways we believe. We can agree to disagree about some things and agree to agree about others. It might actually surprise some people to see how similar we really are.
**Here's a Lenten tip for those of you wishing to be a part of this spiritual time of year: you don't have to give something up to participate in the Lenten season:)! Aside from abstaining from red meat on Fridays because that's the expectation, you can actually promise to do something extra during these 40 days to improve yourself and your faith. For example, I have a Lenten devotional with something for me to meditate on every day of Lent. I have also set the goal of praying as a family every night, attending at least one Stations of the Cross, and of course I will go to Confession before Easter Sunday.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Paging Dr. House
I did it. I worried myself into a stomach acid nightmare. One bowl of cream of wheat and my insides were on fire. In no dimension does that make sense.
In case it is the starting of an ulcer, the doctor signed me up for an upper GI x-ray. It sounded easy enough. Just take pictures of my guts and tell me if I'm going to die of anxiety. Wrong.
On the table in the x-ray room, being good little ducklings in a row, were plastic cups filled with various liquids and solids, all of them white. That's a good sign right? White is a hopeful color. At least I kept reminding myself of that. The tech starts to explain the procedure. I am expected to swallow the tablespoon of tiny pellets because they will create gas in my system to make it easier to see things. After which I cannot burp to release the gas. (Let's now dwell on how I would keep myself from releasing it any other way.) The thicker white goo would be after the gas pellets. It would taste awful, I was forewarned, but make me feel better after the pellets. Huh? Would the pellets make me breathe fire after they created gas?
After gulping the goo, I would be expected to roll around on a table so they could get all angles of my stomach and esophagus. Now, I'm not a genius, but rolling around on a full stomach would make people without tummy troubles vomit. This was getting more interesting by the moment. Finally, the tech informed me the doctor would be in briefly to perform the x-ray.
In my head Foreman, Chase, or 13 would be walking in. Heck, I'd even settle for that Taub guy. Why can't visits to the hospital be Hollywood glamorous? See, still in my head of course, should one of the already mentioned characters appear I would know that Dr. Gregory House is right around the corner. How awesome would that be? I could match wit with the most cynnical of physicians.
Instead I had a nice, elderly doctor come in and hand me the little pellets to get started. He reminded me that they needed to go as far back in my throat as possible because they would start reacting as soon as they hit my tongue. He wasn't kidding!
I discovered the secret ingredient in Wonka's Fizzy Lifting drinks. Holy cow. The moment I got those pellets in my system I expected to shoot straight up to the ceiling. I kept having to keep myself from burping, and a couple of seconds after the gas had formed it felt like a flaming arrow was being lodged in my chest. The doc caught onto my pain and immediately took his pictures and had me start drinking the goo. Instant relief! Whew.
Once my stomach was weighed down with the second cup of goo, I had to roll around to make sure it coated everything. Again, that about made me throw up. All in all, the whole procedure took about 10 minutes. I couldn't decide if I would rather be tortured by drinking gas pellets and being told not to burp or under a magnesium sulfate drip.
Now I just have to wait and see what my doctor says. In the meantime, I will burp my way out of here.
In case it is the starting of an ulcer, the doctor signed me up for an upper GI x-ray. It sounded easy enough. Just take pictures of my guts and tell me if I'm going to die of anxiety. Wrong.
On the table in the x-ray room, being good little ducklings in a row, were plastic cups filled with various liquids and solids, all of them white. That's a good sign right? White is a hopeful color. At least I kept reminding myself of that. The tech starts to explain the procedure. I am expected to swallow the tablespoon of tiny pellets because they will create gas in my system to make it easier to see things. After which I cannot burp to release the gas. (Let's now dwell on how I would keep myself from releasing it any other way.) The thicker white goo would be after the gas pellets. It would taste awful, I was forewarned, but make me feel better after the pellets. Huh? Would the pellets make me breathe fire after they created gas?
After gulping the goo, I would be expected to roll around on a table so they could get all angles of my stomach and esophagus. Now, I'm not a genius, but rolling around on a full stomach would make people without tummy troubles vomit. This was getting more interesting by the moment. Finally, the tech informed me the doctor would be in briefly to perform the x-ray.
In my head Foreman, Chase, or 13 would be walking in. Heck, I'd even settle for that Taub guy. Why can't visits to the hospital be Hollywood glamorous? See, still in my head of course, should one of the already mentioned characters appear I would know that Dr. Gregory House is right around the corner. How awesome would that be? I could match wit with the most cynnical of physicians.
Instead I had a nice, elderly doctor come in and hand me the little pellets to get started. He reminded me that they needed to go as far back in my throat as possible because they would start reacting as soon as they hit my tongue. He wasn't kidding!
I discovered the secret ingredient in Wonka's Fizzy Lifting drinks. Holy cow. The moment I got those pellets in my system I expected to shoot straight up to the ceiling. I kept having to keep myself from burping, and a couple of seconds after the gas had formed it felt like a flaming arrow was being lodged in my chest. The doc caught onto my pain and immediately took his pictures and had me start drinking the goo. Instant relief! Whew.
Once my stomach was weighed down with the second cup of goo, I had to roll around to make sure it coated everything. Again, that about made me throw up. All in all, the whole procedure took about 10 minutes. I couldn't decide if I would rather be tortured by drinking gas pellets and being told not to burp or under a magnesium sulfate drip.
Now I just have to wait and see what my doctor says. In the meantime, I will burp my way out of here.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Fine! I'll Admit it...
I love Bradley Cooper. Of course he was no where on my radar screen until The Hangover, even though I did see Wedding Crashers. I can't help it. I've been watching the trailers for Valentine's Day and even one for The A-Team. I'm in love...
The Sunnier Side of Life
A dear friend of mine was upset this morning because she read my last entry and waited for the more uplifting one before I went to bed. Well, after watching the Saints pull a victory (what a great game that was), I was too exhausted and crashed for the night. So here it is:
"I Do Not Love You"
by Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
This poem reminds me that love doesn't always have to be head over heels/knight in shining armor kind of stuff. Sometimes it just is and sometimes it is dark. It is actually kind of a nice feeling. Every now and then I try to remind myself that someone loves me like this.
"I Do Not Love You"
by Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
This poem reminds me that love doesn't always have to be head over heels/knight in shining armor kind of stuff. Sometimes it just is and sometimes it is dark. It is actually kind of a nice feeling. Every now and then I try to remind myself that someone loves me like this.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
The Battle at Home
In case you didn't know, the district where I teach has made national news because of the strict dress code that would not allow a four-year-old attend class until his parents cut his hair.
For starters: that's what is making the news?! Really? Out of all the things the public school system in the State of Texas lacks that filters down to individual school districts, this is what people focus on? When's the last time a parent even inquired about the curriculum taught or the classroom management practices of particular teachers? How about the fact that before a child will take the actual minimum basic skills exam for the state, they will have already taken 3-4 practice minimum basic skills exams? What about all the valuable class time lost for all that testing? What novels do students read in a given year? What kind of math and science are they learning that will apply later in life? Can students identify North America on a map (seriously, when I asked some students what countries made up North America they said Brazil, Europe, and Texas)?
Just let all that sink in and then look at the stink this whole dress code situation has made. Before anyone tries to give me the "self-expression versus better discipline" crap, understand that this should never have been about the dress code. This is about following rules. The parents knew about the dress code BEFORE enrolling their son into Mesquite Independent School District (MISD). They weren't tricked or had any rules changed after he started. This means they also knew that consequences would ensue should their son not follow the rules. If they had a problem with the dress code, then they needed to find a different pre-K program for their child.
Do I think long hair impedes learning? Of course not. I can teach a kid with a mohawk just as well as one who is bald. I teach gifted kids for crying out loud. If anyone suffers from loss of self expression through clothing and hair styles, they definitely do. But they manage because they understand that life can be full of stupid and arbitrary rules. Many jobs have dress codes and employees are expected to follow them. A person can get a speeding ticket for doing 67 in a 65 mph zone. Some places of business don't allow patrons in without shoes. To return merchandise most of the time a receipt is needed, even if you are an honest person who wouldn't lie about where the item was bought. It doesn't matter. Rules exists and to function in our society, one has to follow them.
That's the kind of discipline this issue is about. It is not about that kid's hair distracting from learning (although some would argue that to be the case). Can the kid follow a rule? Well, his parents are teaching him he doesn't have to.
Some people might say that challenging the rule is the parents' right. Okay, excellent point; however, they are not challenging it appropriately. Creating a media circus will not help them get their way. A friend of mine who studied education law mentioned that there have been tons of cases where parents go up against a district's dress code, and it usually ends with the parents being told that districts are allowed to have dress codes and they must be followed. If these parents want to affect change, they need to learn the system for proposing that change and getting the community involved. After all, it is the people of the Mesquite community that voted on the current dress code. (I know because my parents voted even though my sister and I had already graduated and moved on with our lives.) Instead of just attending the one school board meeting to make a scene, start getting involved in the district. Learn about how the system works and how to change it. Find out why the current rules exist and then take a logical and well supported approach to reach out to the community and encourage them to vote for the change.
My second biggest issue with all of this is the morons who keep commenting on the news stories and have zero stock in this situation. They don't have kids in the district, heck, they don't even live in the district. Both ends of the spectrum are included here: the way laid back lefties and uber-conservative righties. Both ends dwell on the "self-expression versus better discipline" argument when, as I've already mentioned, that should not even be the topic up for discussion. Unless a person is being directly affected by all of this, s/he needs to shut up and stay out of it. It is really irritating because I know that many teachers in the district have strong feelings about it (the ones who actually know what dress code does and does not do in the classroom), but nobody has bothered to ask us what we think. So the news and the district would rather listen to a bunch of randoms over actual Mesquite employees.
All of this I could have dealt with, and actually was starting to let go of whenever someone mentioned this issue. Then I saw a post my husband made on the news site about all of this. In his snarky and smart alack tone, he posed the perfunctory question of what research shows that discipline and learning is directly linked to the length of a kid's hair. (Good one babe, that argument has never been made before.)
Here's why I fell completely apart (and not just because he equated MISD to Nazi Germany like some other jackass in one of the news articles):
If my own husband does not support the district (who signs my paychecks), he cannot possibly take what I do seriously. All the years I come home and vent about the actual injustices of the public education system, he decides to jump on this insane band wagon. He is going to become part of the system trying to further destroy what I do. (I deal with a lot as a public school teacher, and if you also teach in public school in Texas you know what I mean.) Now I know that if someone else brings all this up in conversation, my husband won't say something like: "Yeah, Lydia is really frustrated because there are a lot of other issues she wishes they would address." or "Lydia is ready for all this to be done because she is just as frustrated with the dress code but knows she has to keep doing her job." or "Every district has it ridiculous quirks, but my wife does well there and the kids love her." No, he will probably continue to tear down Mesquite and once again I'll be left alone to defend what I do and why I do it.
For the record, the parents agreed to put the kid's hair in braids so he could attend class, and I will post something a little less intense before I go to bed.
For starters: that's what is making the news?! Really? Out of all the things the public school system in the State of Texas lacks that filters down to individual school districts, this is what people focus on? When's the last time a parent even inquired about the curriculum taught or the classroom management practices of particular teachers? How about the fact that before a child will take the actual minimum basic skills exam for the state, they will have already taken 3-4 practice minimum basic skills exams? What about all the valuable class time lost for all that testing? What novels do students read in a given year? What kind of math and science are they learning that will apply later in life? Can students identify North America on a map (seriously, when I asked some students what countries made up North America they said Brazil, Europe, and Texas)?
Just let all that sink in and then look at the stink this whole dress code situation has made. Before anyone tries to give me the "self-expression versus better discipline" crap, understand that this should never have been about the dress code. This is about following rules. The parents knew about the dress code BEFORE enrolling their son into Mesquite Independent School District (MISD). They weren't tricked or had any rules changed after he started. This means they also knew that consequences would ensue should their son not follow the rules. If they had a problem with the dress code, then they needed to find a different pre-K program for their child.
Do I think long hair impedes learning? Of course not. I can teach a kid with a mohawk just as well as one who is bald. I teach gifted kids for crying out loud. If anyone suffers from loss of self expression through clothing and hair styles, they definitely do. But they manage because they understand that life can be full of stupid and arbitrary rules. Many jobs have dress codes and employees are expected to follow them. A person can get a speeding ticket for doing 67 in a 65 mph zone. Some places of business don't allow patrons in without shoes. To return merchandise most of the time a receipt is needed, even if you are an honest person who wouldn't lie about where the item was bought. It doesn't matter. Rules exists and to function in our society, one has to follow them.
That's the kind of discipline this issue is about. It is not about that kid's hair distracting from learning (although some would argue that to be the case). Can the kid follow a rule? Well, his parents are teaching him he doesn't have to.
Some people might say that challenging the rule is the parents' right. Okay, excellent point; however, they are not challenging it appropriately. Creating a media circus will not help them get their way. A friend of mine who studied education law mentioned that there have been tons of cases where parents go up against a district's dress code, and it usually ends with the parents being told that districts are allowed to have dress codes and they must be followed. If these parents want to affect change, they need to learn the system for proposing that change and getting the community involved. After all, it is the people of the Mesquite community that voted on the current dress code. (I know because my parents voted even though my sister and I had already graduated and moved on with our lives.) Instead of just attending the one school board meeting to make a scene, start getting involved in the district. Learn about how the system works and how to change it. Find out why the current rules exist and then take a logical and well supported approach to reach out to the community and encourage them to vote for the change.
My second biggest issue with all of this is the morons who keep commenting on the news stories and have zero stock in this situation. They don't have kids in the district, heck, they don't even live in the district. Both ends of the spectrum are included here: the way laid back lefties and uber-conservative righties. Both ends dwell on the "self-expression versus better discipline" argument when, as I've already mentioned, that should not even be the topic up for discussion. Unless a person is being directly affected by all of this, s/he needs to shut up and stay out of it. It is really irritating because I know that many teachers in the district have strong feelings about it (the ones who actually know what dress code does and does not do in the classroom), but nobody has bothered to ask us what we think. So the news and the district would rather listen to a bunch of randoms over actual Mesquite employees.
All of this I could have dealt with, and actually was starting to let go of whenever someone mentioned this issue. Then I saw a post my husband made on the news site about all of this. In his snarky and smart alack tone, he posed the perfunctory question of what research shows that discipline and learning is directly linked to the length of a kid's hair. (Good one babe, that argument has never been made before.)
Here's why I fell completely apart (and not just because he equated MISD to Nazi Germany like some other jackass in one of the news articles):
If my own husband does not support the district (who signs my paychecks), he cannot possibly take what I do seriously. All the years I come home and vent about the actual injustices of the public education system, he decides to jump on this insane band wagon. He is going to become part of the system trying to further destroy what I do. (I deal with a lot as a public school teacher, and if you also teach in public school in Texas you know what I mean.) Now I know that if someone else brings all this up in conversation, my husband won't say something like: "Yeah, Lydia is really frustrated because there are a lot of other issues she wishes they would address." or "Lydia is ready for all this to be done because she is just as frustrated with the dress code but knows she has to keep doing her job." or "Every district has it ridiculous quirks, but my wife does well there and the kids love her." No, he will probably continue to tear down Mesquite and once again I'll be left alone to defend what I do and why I do it.
For the record, the parents agreed to put the kid's hair in braids so he could attend class, and I will post something a little less intense before I go to bed.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Up the Ear Canal Without a Paddle
Well one my nightmares has come true: my son has ear problems.
I spent much of my infancy and childhood with non-stop ear issues. I had tubes put in twice and my tonsils and adenoids removed at age four. Even with this, I have battled ear infections for the past 28 years of my life. Adults do not tend to get ear infections because their ear canals grow and shape themselves appropriately. My left ear canal must of missed the memo on the forming normally part because it always gives me problems that led up to a full ear drum blow out, hearing loss, and inner ear reconstruction.
My little William had two ear infections and ruptured ear drums within a week and a half of each other. He already had an ear infection last August. So this makes three in his young nine months of life. The pediatrician said she usually likes to wait until infection number five before referring to an ENT, but with my history of ear catastrophes I should get Will to an ENT right away. Even though most infants have ear infections because their ear canals are still growing and shaping themselves, sometimes infants inherit their parents' flatter ear canals (which of course is more likely in this case). Naturally, I started crying and the doctor was kind enough to give me a hug. Now my baby will probably need tubes in his little ears. I know this is common for babies, but it only led to bigger and worse problems for me. The good news is that the ENT they recommended ended up being my ENT. So when I go for my hearing test next Tuesday, I will just take my son with me.
As soon as I got home, I fell apart again for handing down my cursed ears. My sweet husband endured my complaining about Will probably never being able to enjoying swimming in the summer, hating to fly, and dreading sinus infections that inevitably affect the ears. I continued to go on about how awful I felt about giving Will my ill-functioning ear canals when Chris said, "But I bet they are beautiful ear canals."
I love my husband.
I spent much of my infancy and childhood with non-stop ear issues. I had tubes put in twice and my tonsils and adenoids removed at age four. Even with this, I have battled ear infections for the past 28 years of my life. Adults do not tend to get ear infections because their ear canals grow and shape themselves appropriately. My left ear canal must of missed the memo on the forming normally part because it always gives me problems that led up to a full ear drum blow out, hearing loss, and inner ear reconstruction.
My little William had two ear infections and ruptured ear drums within a week and a half of each other. He already had an ear infection last August. So this makes three in his young nine months of life. The pediatrician said she usually likes to wait until infection number five before referring to an ENT, but with my history of ear catastrophes I should get Will to an ENT right away. Even though most infants have ear infections because their ear canals are still growing and shaping themselves, sometimes infants inherit their parents' flatter ear canals (which of course is more likely in this case). Naturally, I started crying and the doctor was kind enough to give me a hug. Now my baby will probably need tubes in his little ears. I know this is common for babies, but it only led to bigger and worse problems for me. The good news is that the ENT they recommended ended up being my ENT. So when I go for my hearing test next Tuesday, I will just take my son with me.
As soon as I got home, I fell apart again for handing down my cursed ears. My sweet husband endured my complaining about Will probably never being able to enjoying swimming in the summer, hating to fly, and dreading sinus infections that inevitably affect the ears. I continued to go on about how awful I felt about giving Will my ill-functioning ear canals when Chris said, "But I bet they are beautiful ear canals."
I love my husband.
Monday, January 18, 2010
When in Doubt, Start a Book Club
My husband sent me an e-mail the other day asking if I would like an eReader. My answer was something to the effect of: "Is that the thing where you can download a whole bunch of stories onto an electronic device? Then absolutely not."
See, reading a book is an experience for me. It involves four of my five senses. The feel of pages fluttering as I thumb through a potential purchase. The scent of age and wisdom if the book is used or the fragrant new print smell of one right off the presses. Hearing the subtle crack of the spine as I open the new adventure. Then, of course, jumping in with both eyes.
This kind of bibliobsession is shared by a very few in today's society. Proof being the eReader and Kindle. Fortunately, I work with a phenomenal set of ladies who share my fascination with the written word. Over a year ago, we decided to start a book club.
Once a month we each prepare a dish and meet at alternating members' homes. The group is appropriately named The Bad Girls Book Club not because we party so hard we need our own WE television series, but because sometimes people come and sometimes they read the book. (Most book clubs I have heard about are very strict in their reading guidelines and don't smile upon people who choose just to show up for the socialization.) However, our group is much more about the camaraderie than reading. And yet, we still manage to love, read, and discuss books.
I guess I am thankful to know such an awesome group of women. No matter if we like or hate a book, we always have a good time and learn a little about each other. Friendship is so valuable. Perhaps that is why I have a difficult wrapping my brain around people who choose to be alone. Regardless of how long our book club manages to stay together, I cherish every minute we spend eating, discussing, heckling, debating, eating...
See, reading a book is an experience for me. It involves four of my five senses. The feel of pages fluttering as I thumb through a potential purchase. The scent of age and wisdom if the book is used or the fragrant new print smell of one right off the presses. Hearing the subtle crack of the spine as I open the new adventure. Then, of course, jumping in with both eyes.
This kind of bibliobsession is shared by a very few in today's society. Proof being the eReader and Kindle. Fortunately, I work with a phenomenal set of ladies who share my fascination with the written word. Over a year ago, we decided to start a book club.
Once a month we each prepare a dish and meet at alternating members' homes. The group is appropriately named The Bad Girls Book Club not because we party so hard we need our own WE television series, but because sometimes people come and sometimes they read the book. (Most book clubs I have heard about are very strict in their reading guidelines and don't smile upon people who choose just to show up for the socialization.) However, our group is much more about the camaraderie than reading. And yet, we still manage to love, read, and discuss books.
I guess I am thankful to know such an awesome group of women. No matter if we like or hate a book, we always have a good time and learn a little about each other. Friendship is so valuable. Perhaps that is why I have a difficult wrapping my brain around people who choose to be alone. Regardless of how long our book club manages to stay together, I cherish every minute we spend eating, discussing, heckling, debating, eating...
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
2010 Check-In
I have officially been in the year 2010 for 13 days. Even within the first two weeks of the new decade a ton has happened.
My 2010 Book Challenge: Much to the shock of my husband, I blew through Pretties, Specials, and Extras by Scott Westerfeld in four days. I couldn't help myself. Pretties and Specials are too captivating. Not only do I have a new favorite female protagonist (welcome to the ranks Ms. Tally Youngblood), but I have a new favorite author as well. I fully intend to read more of Westerfeld's novels. His writing style is fun and easy to fall into. The Uglies Series has earned a permanent spot on the bookshelf next to The Harry Potter Series, Chronicles of Narnia, The Lord of the Rings, and The Hitchhiker's Guide Series. Westerfeld's brilliant futuristic dystopia will also be a set that I will read again and again. I have issue only with Extras. It by no means ruined the series (like Breaking Dawn--that was just awful), but I am still trying to find its place among the magnificence of Tally and her journey to find her true self. Perhaps it is Westerfeld's genius as work again because Extras is simply that: an "extra" part of the story and one not necessary to complete the trilogy.
My baby got sick: Will has brought in the new year with a ruptured left ear, an ear infection in his right ear, and an eye infection in his right eye. Before anyone hands me the "Worst Mom of the Year" Award, I had already taken him to the doctor on suspicion of something wrong and was told that he was fine. He never had a fever, continued to eat everything we gave him, and happily played at daycare. I called to get him in again when more drainage began to appear from his left ear. Even when we went back to the doctor, Will did not have a fever. It felt like it came out of no where, but we do have antibiotic in his system now and drops for his eye and ears.
My hubby got a raise and has an interview for another position at work: Someday I would like to stay home with (hopefully) the three children I would like to have. In order for that to happen, my husband is working towards a position and paycheck that will allow me to do that. (Of course, my mind will wilt if I don't have some type of hobby so suggestions for that are welcome.) In the meantime he received a nice raise and will be interviewing to be on a special team at work that will get his foot in the door for bigger and better things.
There's my 2010 in a nutshell so far. Is it good? Is it bad? I have decided not to classify anything in those terms. So many people I know are already cursing this new year and wanting a redo of 2009 or fast forward to 2011. This hurts my heart because we have been given another year of life and a chance to make 2010 count for something. Even if the first two weeks have not been the best, there are 50 more to make 2010 a year worth liking. This is also why I refuse to make any resolutions. I will just live my life as the best Christian example that I can. As long as I do that, I shouldn't have to change or plan to change any unwanted behaviors. Thanks to my Culture and Society of Imperial Rome class last semester, Marcus Aurelius already aided in slightly altering my mindset last year. Putting my improved way of thinking and my desire to live a good life together should cover just about everything.
My 2010 Book Challenge: Much to the shock of my husband, I blew through Pretties, Specials, and Extras by Scott Westerfeld in four days. I couldn't help myself. Pretties and Specials are too captivating. Not only do I have a new favorite female protagonist (welcome to the ranks Ms. Tally Youngblood), but I have a new favorite author as well. I fully intend to read more of Westerfeld's novels. His writing style is fun and easy to fall into. The Uglies Series has earned a permanent spot on the bookshelf next to The Harry Potter Series, Chronicles of Narnia, The Lord of the Rings, and The Hitchhiker's Guide Series. Westerfeld's brilliant futuristic dystopia will also be a set that I will read again and again. I have issue only with Extras. It by no means ruined the series (like Breaking Dawn--that was just awful), but I am still trying to find its place among the magnificence of Tally and her journey to find her true self. Perhaps it is Westerfeld's genius as work again because Extras is simply that: an "extra" part of the story and one not necessary to complete the trilogy.
My baby got sick: Will has brought in the new year with a ruptured left ear, an ear infection in his right ear, and an eye infection in his right eye. Before anyone hands me the "Worst Mom of the Year" Award, I had already taken him to the doctor on suspicion of something wrong and was told that he was fine. He never had a fever, continued to eat everything we gave him, and happily played at daycare. I called to get him in again when more drainage began to appear from his left ear. Even when we went back to the doctor, Will did not have a fever. It felt like it came out of no where, but we do have antibiotic in his system now and drops for his eye and ears.
My hubby got a raise and has an interview for another position at work: Someday I would like to stay home with (hopefully) the three children I would like to have. In order for that to happen, my husband is working towards a position and paycheck that will allow me to do that. (Of course, my mind will wilt if I don't have some type of hobby so suggestions for that are welcome.) In the meantime he received a nice raise and will be interviewing to be on a special team at work that will get his foot in the door for bigger and better things.
There's my 2010 in a nutshell so far. Is it good? Is it bad? I have decided not to classify anything in those terms. So many people I know are already cursing this new year and wanting a redo of 2009 or fast forward to 2011. This hurts my heart because we have been given another year of life and a chance to make 2010 count for something. Even if the first two weeks have not been the best, there are 50 more to make 2010 a year worth liking. This is also why I refuse to make any resolutions. I will just live my life as the best Christian example that I can. As long as I do that, I shouldn't have to change or plan to change any unwanted behaviors. Thanks to my Culture and Society of Imperial Rome class last semester, Marcus Aurelius already aided in slightly altering my mindset last year. Putting my improved way of thinking and my desire to live a good life together should cover just about everything.
Thursday, January 07, 2010
The Adventures of Cordelia Organa-Solo
Well, I did it. My alter ego truly exists in all her glory. Enjoy her first story:
Here I am, in my fashionably late twenties, single, and teaching high school English. Believe it or not, this is a dream come true for me. I knew long ago that the only way to save the world was not by saving a single cheerleader, but indeed by saving many cheerleaders, athletes, musicians, thespians, and other average American school children.
As usual, my curriculum calls for that great playwright: William Shakespeare. As usual, many of my students are attempting to covertly keep their No Fear Shakespeare open on their laps under their desks. Here's the real irritation. When did we need to start fearing Shakespeare? He wrote for the masses. If you had a penny, you got to see a show. For goodness sake, the man spoke and wrote in English. One little "thee" instead of "you" and my students panic like there at a disco or something. If they just gave Shakespeare a chance first, they would see that he can be funny, inappropriately sexual, and rather intelligent all in one play.
Then today while I'm trying to fire up Much Ado About Nothing instead of King Lear; let's face it-what teenage kid is going to relate to a middle aged, lunatic king; it occurrs to me: These kids can read Shakespeare. They just don't want to do the work of thinking about it.
"Aides" like No Fear and Cliffsnotes and Pink Monkey and Book Rags, etc. are the real enemy here. They do all the analyzing and synthesizing for the students. How am I possibly supposed to get to those higher levels of thinking in my classroom when my students already have it done for them? That's when the light bulb went off (I had stood too long in one place in my classroom and the timer for energy saving shut off my classroom light). My next stop would be the bookstore next door.
Cheerily I greeted the clerk setting up a display of the hottest new hardbacks which all dealt with vampires in some form oddly enough. I cautiously zigzagged my way around the story making sure to never look directly at a camera. I browsed the mysteries and local literature. I made one rotation around the bargain book bin and then narrowed in on my victim.
There it stood ever so smugly crossing the line of hubris that usually angers the gods. In about five minutes the smirk would belong to me. My fingers flipped the matchbox in my coat pocket around a couple of times. In the flashiest of flashes I had pulled two matches out, swept them across the side of the box, and tossed them onto the display. Before the first bellows of smoke could reach my nostrils I had turned to make my way out of the door. The horror stricken octaves of store employees reverberated off the walls, and I let the cool glass shut behind me.
Before you judge me, understand I do not consider those books. They are a plague on intellect and deserve to burn. Sure they still exist on the internet and the war is far from over, but as I head to the next bookstore in my area I take comfort in knowing I've won a small battle.
Here I am, in my fashionably late twenties, single, and teaching high school English. Believe it or not, this is a dream come true for me. I knew long ago that the only way to save the world was not by saving a single cheerleader, but indeed by saving many cheerleaders, athletes, musicians, thespians, and other average American school children.
As usual, my curriculum calls for that great playwright: William Shakespeare. As usual, many of my students are attempting to covertly keep their No Fear Shakespeare open on their laps under their desks. Here's the real irritation. When did we need to start fearing Shakespeare? He wrote for the masses. If you had a penny, you got to see a show. For goodness sake, the man spoke and wrote in English. One little "thee" instead of "you" and my students panic like there at a disco or something. If they just gave Shakespeare a chance first, they would see that he can be funny, inappropriately sexual, and rather intelligent all in one play.
Then today while I'm trying to fire up Much Ado About Nothing instead of King Lear; let's face it-what teenage kid is going to relate to a middle aged, lunatic king; it occurrs to me: These kids can read Shakespeare. They just don't want to do the work of thinking about it.
"Aides" like No Fear and Cliffsnotes and Pink Monkey and Book Rags, etc. are the real enemy here. They do all the analyzing and synthesizing for the students. How am I possibly supposed to get to those higher levels of thinking in my classroom when my students already have it done for them? That's when the light bulb went off (I had stood too long in one place in my classroom and the timer for energy saving shut off my classroom light). My next stop would be the bookstore next door.
Cheerily I greeted the clerk setting up a display of the hottest new hardbacks which all dealt with vampires in some form oddly enough. I cautiously zigzagged my way around the story making sure to never look directly at a camera. I browsed the mysteries and local literature. I made one rotation around the bargain book bin and then narrowed in on my victim.
There it stood ever so smugly crossing the line of hubris that usually angers the gods. In about five minutes the smirk would belong to me. My fingers flipped the matchbox in my coat pocket around a couple of times. In the flashiest of flashes I had pulled two matches out, swept them across the side of the box, and tossed them onto the display. Before the first bellows of smoke could reach my nostrils I had turned to make my way out of the door. The horror stricken octaves of store employees reverberated off the walls, and I let the cool glass shut behind me.
Before you judge me, understand I do not consider those books. They are a plague on intellect and deserve to burn. Sure they still exist on the internet and the war is far from over, but as I head to the next bookstore in my area I take comfort in knowing I've won a small battle.
Monday, January 04, 2010
Stupid Me
Wow! This is a record for me. Two days of blogging in a row. I did something so stupid to my blog. I accidentally deleted the old background code, and I don't think they have that anymore because the only one I could find is this pastel pink one. Boo! So I had to redo all my font colors, and I don't like the combo as much as my old one. If anyone finds this same background but with hot pink instead of pastel pink, please let me know.
I did indeed return to work today and realized I have the same gut wrenching feeling sitting in my classroom that I had at the end of my one year in Lancaster. It might be restlessness. That does tend to be an unfortunate trait of my generation. We have short attention spans because of the instant gratification society we were raised in. I know I want to keep teaching, it may just be the school where I teach that is wearing on me. I'm still trying to figure all of that out. Either way, I owe my current district 3 more years since they were gracious enough to pay for most of my Master's degree. The next step then is to find a way to manage where I am for at least the next three years. I thought about all the vices I could take up like drinking and smoking but I value my liver and lungs too much. Then I thought that maybe I could start a small revolt with my students where they ever so subtly take down the system (some great movies have been made based on this idea), but then it occurred to me that some of my students might not need that much power in their hands.
In the end I decided on an alter ego. I could write her adventures based on all the things I wish I could do. One of my favorites so far is that she surreptitiously sets Cliffs Notes displays on fire in all the book stores in her area. That's all I have for now. She doesn't even have a name yet. I'll take suggestions.
I did indeed return to work today and realized I have the same gut wrenching feeling sitting in my classroom that I had at the end of my one year in Lancaster. It might be restlessness. That does tend to be an unfortunate trait of my generation. We have short attention spans because of the instant gratification society we were raised in. I know I want to keep teaching, it may just be the school where I teach that is wearing on me. I'm still trying to figure all of that out. Either way, I owe my current district 3 more years since they were gracious enough to pay for most of my Master's degree. The next step then is to find a way to manage where I am for at least the next three years. I thought about all the vices I could take up like drinking and smoking but I value my liver and lungs too much. Then I thought that maybe I could start a small revolt with my students where they ever so subtly take down the system (some great movies have been made based on this idea), but then it occurred to me that some of my students might not need that much power in their hands.
In the end I decided on an alter ego. I could write her adventures based on all the things I wish I could do. One of my favorites so far is that she surreptitiously sets Cliffs Notes displays on fire in all the book stores in her area. That's all I have for now. She doesn't even have a name yet. I'll take suggestions.
Sunday, January 03, 2010
My Book Challenge for 2010
After a lot of thought and reading other sites for perspective, I have decided to challenge myself. I love to read and if I set a goal, I know I will accomplish it. Most book challenges are 52 books, one a week. Well, I know that that is a bit ambitious even for me. So I have decided on 40 books for some wiggle room. If I finish these, I have some ready to go. My "theme" will be young adult novels since those are usually what my students are likely to pick up. I want to be able to make sound suggestions if they come to me with questions about what they should read.
I've alphabetized my list by author last name because I teach English; however, I do not plan to read them in any particular order.
13 Reasons Why Asher, Jay
Wonderful Wizard of Oz, The Baum, L. Frank
Tithe Black, Holly
Valiant Black, Holly
Ironside Black, Holly
Weetzie Bat Block, Francesca Lia
Forever Blume, Judy
Great and Terrible Beauty Bray, Libba
Rebel Angels Bray, Libba
Sweet Far Thing Bray, Libba
Ender's Game Card, Orson Scott
City of Bones Clare, Cassandra
City of Ashes Clare, Cassandra
City of Glass Clare, Cassandra
Hunger Games, The Collins, Suzanne
Chocolate War, The Cormier, Robert
Catherine Called Birdy Cushman, Karen
Maze Runner, The Dashner, James
Magic Under Glass Dolamore, Jaclyn
Once Upon a Marigold Ferris, Jean
Inkheart Funke, Cornelia
Inkspell Funke, Cornelia
Inkdeath Funke, Cornelia
Noah Confessions, The Hall, Barbara
Catalyst Halse Anderson, Laurie
Twisted Halse Anderson, Laurie
Juliet Club, The Harper, Susan
The Silver Kiss Klause, Annette Curtis
Gathering Blue Lowry, Lois
Messenger Lowry, Lois
Dairy Queen Murdock, Catherine
Little Prince, The Saint-Exupery, Antoine
Cather in the Rye Salinger, J. D.
Pretties Westerfeld, Scott
Specials Westerfeld, Scott
Extras Westerfeld, Scott
Dealing with Dragons Wrede, Patricia
Searching for Dragons Wrede, Patricia
Calling on Dragons Wrede, Patricia
Talking to Dragons Wrede, Patricia
I've alphabetized my list by author last name because I teach English; however, I do not plan to read them in any particular order.
13 Reasons Why Asher, Jay
Wonderful Wizard of Oz, The Baum, L. Frank
Tithe Black, Holly
Valiant Black, Holly
Ironside Black, Holly
Weetzie Bat Block, Francesca Lia
Forever Blume, Judy
Great and Terrible Beauty Bray, Libba
Rebel Angels Bray, Libba
Sweet Far Thing Bray, Libba
Ender's Game Card, Orson Scott
City of Bones Clare, Cassandra
City of Ashes Clare, Cassandra
City of Glass Clare, Cassandra
Hunger Games, The Collins, Suzanne
Chocolate War, The Cormier, Robert
Catherine Called Birdy Cushman, Karen
Maze Runner, The Dashner, James
Magic Under Glass Dolamore, Jaclyn
Once Upon a Marigold Ferris, Jean
Inkheart Funke, Cornelia
Inkspell Funke, Cornelia
Inkdeath Funke, Cornelia
Noah Confessions, The Hall, Barbara
Catalyst Halse Anderson, Laurie
Twisted Halse Anderson, Laurie
Juliet Club, The Harper, Susan
The Silver Kiss Klause, Annette Curtis
Gathering Blue Lowry, Lois
Messenger Lowry, Lois
Dairy Queen Murdock, Catherine
Little Prince, The Saint-Exupery, Antoine
Cather in the Rye Salinger, J. D.
Pretties Westerfeld, Scott
Specials Westerfeld, Scott
Extras Westerfeld, Scott
Dealing with Dragons Wrede, Patricia
Searching for Dragons Wrede, Patricia
Calling on Dragons Wrede, Patricia
Talking to Dragons Wrede, Patricia
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Good-Bye 2009
I refuse to allow my last post to be the last post of 2009. Even though the public education system in Texas might be quickly approaching self destruction does not mean good things are not going on in my life.
My sweet William is 8 months old and counting. We weren't sure how he would be after his grand, and dangerous, entrance into this world, but God is great and has helped my baby grow and be happy. Christmas was a blast as Will pulled tissue paper out of bags and chewed on wrapping paper. The toys he received were fine, but as with older children and cardboard boxes, Will much preferred the packaging.
For my husband, I got a Wii. It is amazing how happy a video game console can make a 40 year old man. My sister finally managed to get her hands on a Harry Potter game, so now Chris earnestly mixes potions, plays Quidditch, and duels other students from the comfort of his "wizarding chair."
One of my favorite gifts this year is a pair of TOMS Shoes. They are sparkly and white, and I like knowing that I have also provided a pair of shoes for someone in need. My sister received a pair of plain canvas ones and a bunch of fabric markers. The intention is that she will use her unmatched artistic skills to decorate her pair to match her personality.
As with every year, we spent tons of time with the extended family simply enjoying the food and company.
Recently I have also been introduced to a couple of cool sites for book lovers: Goodreads and Paperback Swap. The first is a great way to catalog books I've read or would like to read. The second is a fantastic way to exchange books you would like to get rid of for ones you want to read.
At Goodreads, I am a member of a couple of discussion groups. One in particular is for moms who love to read. They are posting up their reading challenges for 2010. I decided it was time that I also set goals for my reading. I love to do it but find I am sometimes at a loss deciding what to read. There are so many ways I could go about choosing books. One mom used the alphabet twice. She used it once for authors and once for book titles. This way she has chosen 52 books for her challenge. I'm not sure how confident I am in my reading skills to tackle a book a week, but I know I can probably read more than one book every two weeks (especially in the summer time when we're out of school). I landed on 40 young adult novels I will read next year. Tomorrow I will post my challenge!
For better or for worse 2009 is coming to a close. The highlight is of course the blessings of family and friends. Life is empty without those we love. May 2010 bring plenty of happiness and love your way!
My sweet William is 8 months old and counting. We weren't sure how he would be after his grand, and dangerous, entrance into this world, but God is great and has helped my baby grow and be happy. Christmas was a blast as Will pulled tissue paper out of bags and chewed on wrapping paper. The toys he received were fine, but as with older children and cardboard boxes, Will much preferred the packaging.
For my husband, I got a Wii. It is amazing how happy a video game console can make a 40 year old man. My sister finally managed to get her hands on a Harry Potter game, so now Chris earnestly mixes potions, plays Quidditch, and duels other students from the comfort of his "wizarding chair."
One of my favorite gifts this year is a pair of TOMS Shoes. They are sparkly and white, and I like knowing that I have also provided a pair of shoes for someone in need. My sister received a pair of plain canvas ones and a bunch of fabric markers. The intention is that she will use her unmatched artistic skills to decorate her pair to match her personality.
As with every year, we spent tons of time with the extended family simply enjoying the food and company.
Recently I have also been introduced to a couple of cool sites for book lovers: Goodreads and Paperback Swap. The first is a great way to catalog books I've read or would like to read. The second is a fantastic way to exchange books you would like to get rid of for ones you want to read.
At Goodreads, I am a member of a couple of discussion groups. One in particular is for moms who love to read. They are posting up their reading challenges for 2010. I decided it was time that I also set goals for my reading. I love to do it but find I am sometimes at a loss deciding what to read. There are so many ways I could go about choosing books. One mom used the alphabet twice. She used it once for authors and once for book titles. This way she has chosen 52 books for her challenge. I'm not sure how confident I am in my reading skills to tackle a book a week, but I know I can probably read more than one book every two weeks (especially in the summer time when we're out of school). I landed on 40 young adult novels I will read next year. Tomorrow I will post my challenge!
For better or for worse 2009 is coming to a close. The highlight is of course the blessings of family and friends. Life is empty without those we love. May 2010 bring plenty of happiness and love your way!
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
The one thing constant in life...
Once upon a time I truly believed that I could change lives. God gave me a gift, a love, a desire for teaching. I know that my vocation is to educate, to share knowledge and gain knowledge from those I teach. I just knew that as long as I achieved at the highest levels for my kids that I would indeed affect change. My students would not only learn the beauty of reading and writing they would also discover a part of themselves that would define forever the type of person they are meant to be. In my classroom we would explore, together, ideas and cultures that would reinforce the positive outcomes to making decisions with integrity. My students would understand that sometimes they might not like me because of a difficult assignment or strict guideline, but in the end they would come to realize that I do all that I do for their future. I must prepare them for an unforgiving and often harsh world. I must show them that they can be the bright spot in a gray situation.
I had to keep believing all of this or else the politics of the public education system would have destroyed me after my very first year. A system exists where people who have never stepped foot in a classroom, or are very far removed from the classroom experience, are making decisions regarding what is best for the students. Instead of raising expectations and lifting the students up to meet them, all standards are lowered and students are handed answers if they choose not to think on their own. No one trusts the educator anymore or her judgment on what her students are capable of. This same system allows parents to berate and batter the educator so that they cannot sue the school system when their precious darling does not get his or her way. This same system allows students to receive top marks with minimal effort for fear that a failing grade would damage a fragile ego.
All of this I could continue to let roll off my shoulders because my students would learn that they are better than the system and should not settle for those standards. My students would grow up and become the people that make the decisions, and they would remember what they learned and do their best to better the system for future generations. Eventually enough of my students would be making so many positive changes that someone would see that teachers really do know what is best for their kids and someone might just start listening to teachers.
This week for the first time in my teaching career all of the muck that I tried to keep out of my classroom was crammed down my throat without a care in the world for what I do. Of course I am hurt and will probably not be able to let this go easily. However, I know how my heart loves to spend time on that sleeve of mine. For perspective I went to the one person who is supposed to understand me as a person and why I do what I do. He would simply listen and help me sort my ideas so that any decisions I made regarding the path I just knew God was leading me down would be as sound as possible. What he made bluntly clear was that nothing I do will ever make a difference. It will not change anything about my school or my district let alone the state or nation. And he's right. I see that now.
Do I still want my students to succeed? Absolutely. Do I still love them with all my heart? Absolutely.
The realization for me is that: no longer will I be stupid enough to hope to mend such a broken system. I will simply "go in and do my job like everyone else" as it was put to me.
I had to keep believing all of this or else the politics of the public education system would have destroyed me after my very first year. A system exists where people who have never stepped foot in a classroom, or are very far removed from the classroom experience, are making decisions regarding what is best for the students. Instead of raising expectations and lifting the students up to meet them, all standards are lowered and students are handed answers if they choose not to think on their own. No one trusts the educator anymore or her judgment on what her students are capable of. This same system allows parents to berate and batter the educator so that they cannot sue the school system when their precious darling does not get his or her way. This same system allows students to receive top marks with minimal effort for fear that a failing grade would damage a fragile ego.
All of this I could continue to let roll off my shoulders because my students would learn that they are better than the system and should not settle for those standards. My students would grow up and become the people that make the decisions, and they would remember what they learned and do their best to better the system for future generations. Eventually enough of my students would be making so many positive changes that someone would see that teachers really do know what is best for their kids and someone might just start listening to teachers.
This week for the first time in my teaching career all of the muck that I tried to keep out of my classroom was crammed down my throat without a care in the world for what I do. Of course I am hurt and will probably not be able to let this go easily. However, I know how my heart loves to spend time on that sleeve of mine. For perspective I went to the one person who is supposed to understand me as a person and why I do what I do. He would simply listen and help me sort my ideas so that any decisions I made regarding the path I just knew God was leading me down would be as sound as possible. What he made bluntly clear was that nothing I do will ever make a difference. It will not change anything about my school or my district let alone the state or nation. And he's right. I see that now.
Do I still want my students to succeed? Absolutely. Do I still love them with all my heart? Absolutely.
The realization for me is that: no longer will I be stupid enough to hope to mend such a broken system. I will simply "go in and do my job like everyone else" as it was put to me.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Did I Miss Anything?
It is the end of the first semester and part of a teacher's responsibility, in our district, is to decide who is exempt from the semester exam. Students lose their exemption if they have been absent, tardy for an excessive amount of time, failing for the semester, or have been placed in an alternative school setting for behavioral issues. Now, there are some circumstances where a student might have what is known as an "excused" absence. This means that even though s/he did not attend school that day they are still eligible for exemption from the semester exam. Some examples are school sponsored field trips, college visit days, and doctor's appointments as long as you spend some time in class before or after the appointment.
Everything seems simple enough until students start complaining: "No one wants us here if we're sick, but we are punished if we don't come to school" or "I was bettering my future by looking at my post high school options. Why do I have to take a test?" or "It's not my fault the school scheduled the competition during the school day." Taking an exam is not a punishment. If you miss class, you miss lessons. Sometimes the best discussion is rather impromptu and cannot be duplicated in make-up work. When a student is out of the learning arena a gap is created that must be filled. Semester exams are meant to test those students that had gaps to ensure that they were properly fixed.
Honestly, I don't believe any absence should be excused. If parents, teachers, and students have problems with competitions and other co and extra curricular activities taking place during school hours, perhaps there needs to be some adjusting elsewhere. One of my favorite poems is "Did I Miss Anything?" by Tom Wayman. I think he sums up many of my feelings on the matter.
Everything seems simple enough until students start complaining: "No one wants us here if we're sick, but we are punished if we don't come to school" or "I was bettering my future by looking at my post high school options. Why do I have to take a test?" or "It's not my fault the school scheduled the competition during the school day." Taking an exam is not a punishment. If you miss class, you miss lessons. Sometimes the best discussion is rather impromptu and cannot be duplicated in make-up work. When a student is out of the learning arena a gap is created that must be filled. Semester exams are meant to test those students that had gaps to ensure that they were properly fixed.
Honestly, I don't believe any absence should be excused. If parents, teachers, and students have problems with competitions and other co and extra curricular activities taking place during school hours, perhaps there needs to be some adjusting elsewhere. One of my favorite poems is "Did I Miss Anything?" by Tom Wayman. I think he sums up many of my feelings on the matter.
