Monday, October 30, 2006

fucking asshole.

Saturday, October 28, 2006

now with more hook

Yesterday, on my way home from work, I saw not one, not two, but THREE hookers waiting around for business. It's like my commute can't get any better.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

fourth day

This week has been Red Ribbon Week, which is code for Don't Do Drugs Week, and today we made (really ugly) posters about what we could do instead of drugs. I first let my students share opinions about drugs, which here included cigarettes and alcohal. I didn't think they would have such colorful stories -- they are, after all, seven and eight years old. I was utterly surprised. One student rambled on about her neighbor who is "on crack and she walk around the block with no clothes on and my mama be telling me that she crazy and on drugs." Another student informed us that smoking in the car is bad even if the windows are open, because "the smell stays in the cushions." There came a point in the conversation that I realized my students were much more educated than I about drugs, and this was when a girl started describing how her daddy's friend "smokes a fat one, it's called a blunt."


In other news, today at recess I was told that my hair looks like a clown. This is not the first time.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

guilty

Do you ever have a dream in which you do something completely wrong, totally illegal, or grossly immoral? And you wake up feeling sick with yourself, that even when you remind yourself IT WAS JUST A DREAM, you can't help but feel guilty?

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

second day

Today on my way to work I did not see any hookers (alas!) but I did see a dead dog in the street. Which even I, a non dog-lover, think is sad. But it got me thinking: Watts is such a magical place that I bet there will be a new surprise on Figueroa every morning. Maybe tomorrow there will be a water main leak! Or a turned-over orange truck! Twist my arm and I'll keep an annotated list in my car!

In other news, I had only eleven students in class today. It was brilliant. We did a very long community circle in the morning in which they got to share their Me Bags with the class (glorified Show and Tell). Everyone was positively mesmorized by the cheap McDonald toys their classmates brought in. We also played Killer, that game where you sit in the circle and one kid blinks at you and then you have to "die" a really loud and colorful death, and then another kid has to guess who the Blinker is before the rest of the students "die." I renamed it The Blink Game, to be culturally sensitive. So that when my UCLA supervisors come and visit, they will see that though I am not teaching my students anything academic, at least I am not making them feel bad about their lives. After all, it could have been their dog.

Monday, October 23, 2006

the only thing getting me through this "break" week

first day

I can't really comment on how good or how bad the first day was; it was a complete blur. What I remember thinking repeatedly, though, was, "They're just so dumb!" Which is a really obnoxious way of comparing fifth graders with seven year olds.




Later: I can't believe I forgot to mention that on my way to work this morning, I saw not one, but TWO hookers being arrested!!! AWESOME neighborhood!

Sunday, October 22, 2006

mental health

I'm thinking that as part of my mental health plan, I should be required to write on this here internet more often. That way I can vent about boring shit, complain about problems that won't get solved, and otherwise bitch and moan away from the people I love. Because they are sick of hearing it, and I am sick of making them listen. And it's not fair or healthy for anyone.

So internet, it's good to be back.




I've got to get back to this.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

kids from the ghetto are people, too

The last week I spent in complete limbo, balancing between twenty ten-year-olds I love but was struggling to teach, and the potential of everything. I haven't been very happy in my teaching job, both because of the material learned in fifth grade (of which I know nothing about and have been learning anew as I attempt to teach it), and because of the social and behavioral issues that come with preadolescence. Part of me has been dreaming about a solution. This last Friday, four days ago, things finally settled down and for the first time since August, I am ecstatic about teaching. I am full of ideas and smiles and enthusiasm and endless possibilities.

Because of Norm Day, which is when schools take an official count of their student body, I was displaced. I lost my job because my school did not have enough pupils enrolled to justify the amount of teachers. Because I was hired last, essentially the lowest rung on the totem pole, I was let go first. (But not before a full week of is-she or isn't-she which I couldn't even hint at to my students.)

The decision was handed to me on Friday morning, and I told my class right before lunchtime. A few of them started crying in class, and several more followed suit as they lined up and sat down for lunch. A fire drill rang out as our recess was coming to a close, and I arrived on the yard to find a good eighteen of my students sniffling and moaning. Lining them up for the drill was the easiest experience I've ever had with them. I took pity on them and let them sit on the blacktop so they could mourn in comfort. (And not one child complained that the asphalt was dirty or too hot, a common proclamation every time we have PE.) When the fire drill was over, we returned to our rooms. I had planned a writing assignment so that the kids could let their new teacher know about their fifth grade experiences, but it was clear from the volume of sniffles and hiccups and moans that they would not focus on anything remotely academic. I suggested I read aloud from Roahl Dahl's The Witches, and they listened for a few minutes attentively before silently organizing a classwide campaign to pile my desk with I Love You letters. It was very touching.

That very same day, I drove down to the "worse" neighborhood in the district and interviewed with a new principal. I took the available third grade position because ONE: I love third grade and TWO: She gave me the language arts program teacher's guide and a class schedule. SHE EVEN TOOK ME ON A TOUR OF THE SCHOOL BUILDING. This might seem minor and even expected, BUT IT'S NOT. Only a caring and supportive principal would make sure that his/her teachers start off their year with the proper materials. Many principals are too busy covering their asses and blaming other to facilitate quality education. I could tell this principal inspired a caring and supportive teaching staff because of the way the other teachers greeted me in the hallways and offered to help me out. (In another nameless school, fellow teachers try not to say anything in front of the principal in case s/he takes the opportunity to foist some new responsibility on them.) I could tell that she treated the students with respect because as we walked through the yard, kids yelled her name and waved. (In another nameless school, students completely ignore the principal because his/her only interaction with them is suspension.)

I don't need to repeat myself and express how excited I am at this opportunity to start over. It will be a hard few weeks as I adjust to a new curriculum and facilitate a cohesive classroom community. My dad gave me this quote that he saw on a teacher's wall, which I have printed and laminated and ready to be hung in my new classroom. It reads, "Progress, not perfection." NO ONE EXPECTS ME TO BE PERFECT.

But now I'm going to get so much closer!

Saturday, October 07, 2006

the upside of exhaustion

Last night, I was ready to crash at six fifteen. I decided it was too late to take a nap, and too early to go to bed. I managed to stay awake until eight. I rewarded myself with a field trip to Longs Drug Store, a block away. As a prize, I permitted myself to buy ANY shower product I wanted. I returned home with three new shampoos and a body wash.


What an exciting Friday night, huh.