I sit in a chair opposite a little girl who has had more pain than most can't imagine. I watch her tough chola facade break down as one tear, then two, then a flood pours down her face.
She's been in trouble so many times and we're only six weeks in. Mostly notes, and one unforgettable one directed towards a team teacher. We've lost count of the times she's written or said Fuck you.
Today she's back from being suspended and scribbling away during class. Writing notes again already? I think. Sauntering over I open my hand in anticipation of them being handed over. She looks down at the index card and then slowly up to me.
"It's for you." She says.
I want to do right. I want to go to college. I'm sick of being a stupid ugly girl. I'm sorry for disrespecting you. I'm sorry. I want to learn. Thank you for being my teacher.
As tears fill my eyes, I have to take a minute before I go back to writing conferences.
Class ends, and I invite her to have lunch with me, and just like it's been as long as I can remember, one more person opens up to me without me ever uttering a question.
I sit opposite her and she tells me of her dad and the bad things he did to her. Of her abusive, alcoholic mother. That's where I got this scar. Of her drug-dealing brother who has beaten her up countless times. Of her youngest brother who almost died last year in a car accident. Of how she had the matching blood-type.
She's such a hero and she doesn't even realize. She's survived.
She survived when her brother was shot and died in her 8 year old arms.
When I ask her what she wants more than anything, she answers, "Just one good thing for my family. Just one good thing."
I'm crying with her now.
Later I will write a note. One just for her. . I will tell her she is a hero and a beautiful, smart young woman. I will tell her she has the strength to do whatever she wants.
I will tell her she already is the one good thing for her family.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Intellectual Wasteland
This Monday the 4th grade language arts teachers had to attend a training on small group guided reading. Awesome, I thought. I get a break from the kids, and I can learn something new about a topic we didn't have in middle school.
Unfortunately, I was needlessly optimistic. Because it was all too clear, just a few minutes into the day that the woman conducting the "training" didn't need to be a trainer. You'll see in just a minute that she doesn't need to be a teacher either.
On at least one occasion she used the word REINERATE.
Maybe this is some cool, new mashup of the words incinerate and reincarnate. Maybe we were going to burn up all our old knowledge and then let our new knowledge rise from the ashes like a glorious phoenix about to...
Nah, I think she meant REITERATE but isn't very smart.
Yep, that explains it.
A little later she was modeling a small group guided reading lesson where she was teaching main idea. She told her "students" that main idea was a combination of the characters, setting, and what happened in the story.
Um, no. That would be a summary of what happened. Main idea is the most important idea in a NON-FICTION text.
After the second incident, I was finished. Done. Thanks for comin' out.
Boys Who Prance
And he prances when he walks.
Actually, maybe it's not so much a prance. Because a prance is more a walk where you pick your feet up in a feminine, dancer sort of way.
It's not a skip, either. It's a hybrid, really.
He walks like a rooster with his chest puffed out, his arms behind him like he's about to take off in flight, and legs moving as if he is about to chasse across the room.
It is hard not to stare sometimes.
Ironically, he is one of the boys with a girlfriend.
I love it.
______________________________________________________________________
And in only quasi-related news, this post reminded me of my all-time favorite YouTube video.
I call him "Awesome Apple Bottom Ginger Kid Succumbs to Flo Rida Madness"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=azhgVB5uXlo
Saturday, November 6, 2010
P.O.S.
This past week sucked. My classes haven't been good since the beginning. There was no honeymoon period for this group. They are worse than middle school kids in terms of behavior and it's starting to wear me thin because it is continually worsening.
Like the kid I sent to the office yesterday. He tried to take a book away from his table partner and when he didn't get his way he called the other kid a "piece of shit." I expect that type of thing from a middle schooler. But a 9 year old? Oh, that's right, he watched Southpark.
Then again, I recall my Mom's week at her school, which brings a whole new meaning to the title of this post.
She found an actual P.O.S. in the hallway. More precisely, a trail of poo from a 4th grade classroom all the way to the bathroom.
And as bad as my kids are, they have yet to "drop a load" in the hall.
Knock on wood.
Like the kid I sent to the office yesterday. He tried to take a book away from his table partner and when he didn't get his way he called the other kid a "piece of shit." I expect that type of thing from a middle schooler. But a 9 year old? Oh, that's right, he watched Southpark.
Then again, I recall my Mom's week at her school, which brings a whole new meaning to the title of this post.
She found an actual P.O.S. in the hallway. More precisely, a trail of poo from a 4th grade classroom all the way to the bathroom.
And as bad as my kids are, they have yet to "drop a load" in the hall.
Knock on wood.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
A Field Trip As Told Through Texting
The following text transcription occured during a trip to, during, and returning from a field trip to an art museum.
Names have been changed to protect the innocent...and this blogger.
B: I wndr if leaving him w/o princpal knowing was best idea
D: Hmm, maybe, but it did happen right as we were lining up to leave. Ms. X heard him use the "F" word and then when she told me he took off sprinting down the hall and wouldn't stop. Sooo...hopefully it will be ok (that we left him).
10 minutes later
B: Y was Phoebe yellin at the window tellin a girl in shorts 2 put some more clothes on? Ms. Dazey Duke herself!
D: Haha
B: Y did Joey kick Ross off the seat w/ him and Rachel? And looks like Chandler is seriously tryin 2 mack on Monica and Daniel is singin his own lyrics 2 a beach boys tune.
D: Good grief...
20 minutes later
D: These kids are crazy and don't listen...Every single exhibit Peter asks a question someone else has already asked, Johnathan keeps trying to touch all the paintings and Annie just stroked a sculpture!
D: Also, James got really mad at me when he grabbed and tried to hold my hand and I said no (James is 12).
B: Girl I'm just glad tht this is over. We get 2 c wht it looks like whn kids aren't exposed 2 anything outside of tv and main event...
Not chronicled in the text messaging was the museum guide who kept grabbing students' arms when they tried to touch paintings and the little boy behind me who was making noises that rivaled Meg Ryan's performance during the lunch scene in "When Harry Met Sally."
Names have been changed to protect the innocent...and this blogger.
B: I wndr if leaving him w/o princpal knowing was best idea
D: Hmm, maybe, but it did happen right as we were lining up to leave. Ms. X heard him use the "F" word and then when she told me he took off sprinting down the hall and wouldn't stop. Sooo...hopefully it will be ok (that we left him).
10 minutes later
B: Y was Phoebe yellin at the window tellin a girl in shorts 2 put some more clothes on? Ms. Dazey Duke herself!
D: Haha
B: Y did Joey kick Ross off the seat w/ him and Rachel? And looks like Chandler is seriously tryin 2 mack on Monica and Daniel is singin his own lyrics 2 a beach boys tune.
D: Good grief...
20 minutes later
D: These kids are crazy and don't listen...Every single exhibit Peter asks a question someone else has already asked, Johnathan keeps trying to touch all the paintings and Annie just stroked a sculpture!
D: Also, James got really mad at me when he grabbed and tried to hold my hand and I said no (James is 12).
B: Girl I'm just glad tht this is over. We get 2 c wht it looks like whn kids aren't exposed 2 anything outside of tv and main event...
Not chronicled in the text messaging was the museum guide who kept grabbing students' arms when they tried to touch paintings and the little boy behind me who was making noises that rivaled Meg Ryan's performance during the lunch scene in "When Harry Met Sally."
Monday, October 11, 2010
Fashion Wasteland
When someone says the words "professional dress" we may differ slightly in what comes to mind. What is professional in California is not in Texas. What is professional in the art field may not be in a courtroom.
In education, sometimes we ask students to define what something is not in order to give them a better understanding of what something is.
While what is professional seems to be open for debate, I would hope to think that what is not professional would be obvious.
A 55+ woman wearing a too-short, too-tight dress from the Juniors department in Target is not appropriate. I mean, come on, even I wouldn't wear the dress in question and the tweens who do at least throw on leggings under theirs.
Wrinkled, khaki capris are a blight that should be banned from the earth. Oh, wait, they don't wear them everywhere on the earth? So, just banned from the teaching profession? That's right, I forgot that teachers are the worst dressers ever. In other words, wrinkled capris are not appropriate.
Greasy hair? No makeup? Not appropriate.
A too-short hoodie with a cartoon character on the front is something no one should wear outside the privacy of their own home - or a taping of COPS.
Bras that offer no support or padding...this is another post entirely I assure you. Clearly, not appropriate.
Flip flops. Are. Not. Professional.
Not only are the people I work with (mostly) delusional about what is professional, they are completly out of the loop about fashion at all. In fact, it is a FASHION WASTELAND.*
I guess I wouldn't be so bitter about the whole thing if they would let me wear jeans. Nice, dark wash jeans with a nice button-down and high heels that are ten fold more professional than wrinkled khaki capris. But no, jeans are not "professional."
What am I getting at exactly? Well, I want to wear my nice jeans because they're cute and comfortable and practical for teaching elementary school. I want the discrepency corrected, because it doesn't make sense to get to wear flip flops but no nice denim. If those other teachers refuse to dress with any regard for themselves, then could they stop giving me weird looks for what I wear? At the very least, I want a slideshow presentation at the next faculty meeting with pictures of what is and is not acceptable.
Do you think they would let me snap pictures around campus for the slides? Can I force feed them episodes of What Not To Wear, The Hills, and The City? Can I get on DonorsChoose and get funding to buy supportive bras for the staff?
I mean, really.
*Fashion Wasteland: A place of work or community where no sense of style exists at all. There is no out-of-date or out-of-style, there is only absence of any remnant of style whatsoever. This place is in need of fashion coaches. I nominate Amber Weston.
In education, sometimes we ask students to define what something is not in order to give them a better understanding of what something is.
While what is professional seems to be open for debate, I would hope to think that what is not professional would be obvious.
A 55+ woman wearing a too-short, too-tight dress from the Juniors department in Target is not appropriate. I mean, come on, even I wouldn't wear the dress in question and the tweens who do at least throw on leggings under theirs.
Wrinkled, khaki capris are a blight that should be banned from the earth. Oh, wait, they don't wear them everywhere on the earth? So, just banned from the teaching profession? That's right, I forgot that teachers are the worst dressers ever. In other words, wrinkled capris are not appropriate.
Greasy hair? No makeup? Not appropriate.
A too-short hoodie with a cartoon character on the front is something no one should wear outside the privacy of their own home - or a taping of COPS.
Bras that offer no support or padding...this is another post entirely I assure you. Clearly, not appropriate.
Flip flops. Are. Not. Professional.
Not only are the people I work with (mostly) delusional about what is professional, they are completly out of the loop about fashion at all. In fact, it is a FASHION WASTELAND.*
I guess I wouldn't be so bitter about the whole thing if they would let me wear jeans. Nice, dark wash jeans with a nice button-down and high heels that are ten fold more professional than wrinkled khaki capris. But no, jeans are not "professional."
What am I getting at exactly? Well, I want to wear my nice jeans because they're cute and comfortable and practical for teaching elementary school. I want the discrepency corrected, because it doesn't make sense to get to wear flip flops but no nice denim. If those other teachers refuse to dress with any regard for themselves, then could they stop giving me weird looks for what I wear? At the very least, I want a slideshow presentation at the next faculty meeting with pictures of what is and is not acceptable.
Do you think they would let me snap pictures around campus for the slides? Can I force feed them episodes of What Not To Wear, The Hills, and The City? Can I get on DonorsChoose and get funding to buy supportive bras for the staff?
I mean, really.
*Fashion Wasteland: A place of work or community where no sense of style exists at all. There is no out-of-date or out-of-style, there is only absence of any remnant of style whatsoever. This place is in need of fashion coaches. I nominate Amber Weston.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
And Now, For Your Viewing Pleasure...
My partner teacher (math and science) gave the kids a word problem based on the Simpsons the other day. When they finished, she let them draw a picture of Lisa since the problem centered around her. As the two of us took our classes out to recess that day she could hardly contain her laughter as she scooted some of the kids along to play.
Pulling out her clipboard I could see a stack of manilla paper clipped neatly and couldn't understand what could possibly be so funny...of course, I hadn't seen "The Lisas" yet.
We laughed until we had tears streaming down our faces. I know it's bad, but really...we couldn't help it. Besides, if you can't laugh in education - you won't last long.
Pulling out her clipboard I could see a stack of manilla paper clipped neatly and couldn't understand what could possibly be so funny...of course, I hadn't seen "The Lisas" yet.
We laughed until we had tears streaming down our faces. I know it's bad, but really...we couldn't help it. Besides, if you can't laugh in education - you won't last long.
"Strapless Dress Doesn't Cover Everything It Should Lisa"
"Amputated Demonic Lisa"
"Miss Pac-Man Lisa"
"Half Naked Um....Um...Lisa"
"Big-Bird Lisa"
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