News of the weird (teaching)

Last year, a friend said that I was not a fan of anything I had to turn on. She was right. I had successfully hooked up a computer in my past. But, that was about it. Now, I'm a little preoccupied with technology and I guess it shows.

Yesterday, I was talking with the secretary in my school about the school's network. She was searching on her computer for a file she was pretty sure she did not have. The principal thought she did not have it on her computer. The secretary said that the misplaced file issue was always a problem. I asked if they were networked (which I knew they were because they all have access to the same program for student information) and if they had a shared drive or an F: drive. When I explained what that was, the secretary sent me in to the principal to explain the wonders of a shared drive. The principal reacted by offering me the computer teacher job in two years.

Anyone who has worked in a somewhat efficient office has used a shared drive. This information in a school means I'm viewed as a technological genius. Considering the fact that I have a highly evolved network of people I go to the moment I hit a technological glitch (friend from VT, friend from CA, my little sister), this label seems so ironic. I feel like my skills with the shared drive and my revolutionary idea that the principal, APs and head custodian have BlackBerrys makes me a thoughtful office manager not a computer teacher.

But, I would love to have two cart loads of iBooks at my fingertips. And, I want to write a masters thesis on technology as a learning tool for students in special education. So, maybe it is not so ironic after all.

post-script (iBook and teaching)

My insomnia of last night has caused me to barely function today. I never suggest that anyone walk into a classroom filled with small children on less than 9 hours of sleep. You will not be at the top of your game.

I am currently struggling with the fact that some of the situations in the class today were caused by my less than optimum functioning. However, the people who come into my class always comment on the fact that they are a needy bunch. I have taught for two years. Each of those years has been with the same class. There is a part of me that feels like the mix of students causes some situations to be what they are, as opposed to me creating the environment which causes the situations. But, really who is to say.

The other thing making me cranky is the money I am about to shell out to pay for my cracked LCD screen. I want my computer back. So, I have to pay what equals the price of a desktop to fix a problem I am pretty sure I did not create. But, that's not what the folks at Apple say. I am wedged right here between the proverbial rock and hard place. If you could see me now, you would probably see my sad face. I'm going to have to have some Taco Bell to make things right.

Insomnia (life/teaching)

I had a lot of coffee yesterday. Sometimes, I pretend that coffee has not impact on my life other than providing goodness. And, there are days when a good cup of coffee is that warm thing I need to drift off to sleep. But, today is not one of those days.

Yesterday, I over-caffeinated in the morning in attempts to achieve a chatty version of myself. Then, I had 2 cups of tea at brunch. Then, I had a medium (which is sometimes referred to as a grande) post-brunch. Then, an esspresso based small after I got off the subway for my walk to my Queens park.

Now, I'm awake. I've been awake since 1 a.m. I have to wake up in a few hours and go teach small children. I am pretty sure I will not be operating at my ideal level. In fact, I am pretty sure I will fall asleep an hour and a half before my alarm is set to wake me up. Then, I will have to force myself out of bed, mid-REM cycle. Finally, I will be incoherent for any point prior to ingesting more coffee. It's a vicious cycle.

It appears I'm not the only one awake at the moment. The people who live downstairs are opening doors and talking and some suped-up speed racer is zooming past my window. I normally sleep like a champion. Once I'm out, there is normally no waking me. In a somewhat adolescent view, I kind of think that everyone else must be asleep while I'm asleep. I wonder if my neighbors are always up at 3. I wish that there was a reason I could go talk to them right now. When I'm up in the middle of the night, I like to talk. But, that would push the limits on good neighborly interactions.

7.224933529319764 miles

I had my brunch date today. I ate hummus, I talked about an international life, and reminded myself of who I can be on a date. After brunch, I went to Central Park with my roommate and then met up with friends close to home. I used public transportation between boroughs. But, mostly I walked. Within Manhattan, I walked 7.224933529319764 miles (as measured by Gmaps Pedometer). Once back in Queens, I walked an additional 3 miles to and from the subway, via a stop at my coffee place and my local park . Gmaps Pedometer is a good time. Maybe I'll try to make this a part of every date I go on in the near future.

Brooklyn (life)

I'm on my way out for a birthday party of a friend of a friend. I enjoy choosing a sound track to help me get ready. Tonight, it is the Pixies. Over the past year and a half, I've become a big fan. They have just the right combination of songs that tell a story and songs that are practically incoherent. And, there is a lot of yelling. I like the yelling. They have a new movie coming out, which I'm going to try to catch at the Tribeca Film Festival. There are some moments when I feel like my life has the potential of being very NYC.

Now, my mind is swimming with thoughts of other things, too numerous to address in the time I have before I leave for Brooklyn.

part 2 (life)

By the way, the attack of the roommate reference was me. I am subjecting my roommate to an unadulterated form of myself tonight. She is in for a treat.

attack of the roommate (life)

Today is pure goodness. I have walked home to my own personal sound track. I have kickboxed my way to fitness (with a minor muscle injury in the first 5 minutes of the class...but that's beside the point). I have listened to Instant Pleasure on repeat. And, now, my holiday grab-bag gin (those of you in the know, realize I am talking about ye olde yank and spank) has been cracked open. And, I have a date for Sunday. Fun.

Friends (life)

After I finished a surprisingly extensive midterm exam, I used my time to call a friend. He and I have been friends for years (11, to be exact). It has given him time to figure out the patterns to my existance. I have a surprsingly high level of disclosure with this man. He has seen throguh my normal methods of diversion (the comedy routine, the question to answer a question, etc). Now, he knows things that are not even suitable for the blog.

After that conversation, an email exchange with ladies I love from inside the beltway (mentally or physically), and a recap of the day with the roommmate. It made me think about the people in my life. I have these amazing friends--people who bring so much to my life, people who are unique and wonderful. And, I want to have more. I am ready to have someone there, have someone who knows me like my friends, and has that little something extra. I wonder when I will make my way to that place in my life.

review (life/teaching)

Some days have a bit more static than others...making them hard to categorize. I'm a little caught up in my technical difficulties, family transitions, midterm anxiety, and sudden lack of a specific crush (which I had for years). But, there were also so many good things.

I got to watch one of my students tell his mother he was student of the month. He was so excited and his mother was so proud. He has worked so hard and come so far. I am so proud of him.

My class went to the impromptu multicultural museum in the school library. The artifacts were all from the students in the school. We talked about straws from Argentina, hair straighteners from Africa, pyramids from Egypt, dolls from Ecuador, bangles from Bangladesh, and money from all over the world. The students were so excited to tell me about something they knew about from their home--I loved it.

And, I finally figured out how to keep track of the notes I take when the kids read and write. That only took 1.5 years. I've been liberated from post-it take over.

The technical difficulties really has me sad. And, I might be many hundreds of dollars poorer. The people at Apple say I cracked my LCD through excessive force. I say I treated my iBook like it was my baby and excessive force is unlikely. I wonder if the Logic Board problems of iBooks of yore have returned. I'm very sad about all of this sick iBook stuff.

I'm trying to deal with the midterm and lack of crush thing by studying and watching Sex and the City--simultaneously. Well see how this works out.

Stealy Dan (life)

My favorite radio station is playing Donald Fagen and I am having
Stealy Dan flashbacks. I was subject to hours of forced Stealy Dan
exposure through my parents' music choice when I was a child. I wanted
to listen to Sesame Street--Solid Gold (Cookie Monster sings disco
classics) and got Aja instead. No good.

I am sure if I was in my early adulthood when they came out, I would
be impressed with some of their musical qualities. But to my ears,
they sound over-produced, pop-y, and trite. I'm consistently not a fan.
They are often played in the background when you are out (as they are
elevator music-ish) and I often have the knee-jerk "bad music"
reaction prior to realizing that it is a Stealy Dan song.

The radio is trying to make it up to me by playing Joni Mitchell. I am
not sure I am ready to forgive.

Real Genius (life/teaching)

I recently had the opportunity to wax poetic (IM style) with a friend about the merits of Real Genius; it provides me with many opportunities for random thougths throughout my life. In addition to the obvious popcorn visual, that guy who lived in the wall and got an RV because he figured out the mathematical aspect of no-purchase-necessary contests wanders through my mind every once in a while. Recently, I have been channeling his approach. I have registered myself for the entire Neil Young diskography, entered my school for a personal appearance from a famous childrens author, and tried to outfit my classroom with my wildest with crayola fueled dreams. Now, if I could reproduce the guy's success rate. But, I can't even get my taxes together. So, the motivation for multiple postcards is just too much to think about.

Thumbsucker (life)

It's a beautiful day...lots of sun, temperature pushing 60, total lack of the that urine smell that can sometime permeate the air in my neck of the woods. After a quick stop at my local grocery, I was almost run over by a Jetta while crossing the street. I always like to get a look at the person who almost killed me, so I took a close look. Turns out the driver was sucking her thumb.

As a former thumbsucker, I have been known to store my index finger around my nose and thumb tucked under my chin while I sleep. But, that really only happens in an un-to-semi-conscious state. It was very surprising to me to see a person old enough to drive with her thumb stuck in her mouth. In many was I was impressed--she was a dedicated thumb sucker, unafraid for the social and orthodontic repercussions of her actions. But, still...she was old enough to drive.

Purple people eater (life)

This morning, while I was semiconscious in the shower, I looked down and saw that the area above my hip had a strange purple-ish tint. At first, I thought that the water was too hot. Since I am what some people would call very pale, you can often see my skin change color from things like hot water, accidental scratches, direct sunlight, etc. Upon closer inspection, I realized the purple color was not confined to the spots the water was hitting. In fact, most of my torso was purple.

Turns out, my new purple t-shirt left a mark. All of the skin that came into direct contact with the shirt now has a hint of purple. I kind of like the effect.

Coteaching (teaching, as if you could not guess this one)

I am the special education component of collaborative team teaching arrangement. I have a coteacher and, between us, we have 24 students with a variety of needs. I cotaught with a different woman last year. After two years of this type of classroom, I have learned that I hate coteaching. I teach with a very nice person and we have had moments where it really made sense. But, I have this nagging suspicion that my coteacher doesn't really believe in/like special education. Maybe I would have a different opinion if I was working with someone who has been taught the same things I have been taught about teaching...my coteacher has found one thing that really works for her, and has worked for the past 20 years, and is not really interested in changing anything.

Unfortunately, that means I can passively accept her way of doing things. Or, I can fight for what I want to see happen. She has given me one day to show her what I am talking about when I say things like teach writing and teach math. By the way, if a teacher ever tells you "show me," know it is the most passive aggressive thing a teacher will do to you. It really means, "I'd like to see you try to do things better than I can do them."

Despite a spike in the professional aggravation, much joy was a part of my day. It came from things like a random student requesting a high-five in the hallway after school, using a quick check edit sheet with my students and seeing them really use the check sheet to make their writing better, having a student really get his mouth ready to say a word and then watching him read words, helping kindergartners up the stairs, and hanging up the hexagon a student made out of 14 straws and a twist ties.

to make me feel better (life)

As if she knew I was feeling sad, my aunt sent this little video. It made me feel better.

If you watch the whole thing, you will be treated to the amazing sights during Ringo's solo and when George really tears into it....

sick iBook (everything)

I have been an iBook owner for less than 3 months--enough time to
completely fall in love. I'm currently having some type of pixel
problem and am so very sad. My apple care person is trying to help me
now. Please think good thoughts.

title (teaching)

For many years, I had difficulty describing my job to people. I coordinated, worked with communities, wrote curriculum, and facilitated my way to being a project specialist at one job. I worked as a go-between for international students, their parents, the Americans they lived with and little companies from around the globe to be a student services coordinator. I organized events, coordinated napkins, and trained interns as an Assistant Director. No one really understood what I was doing. I longed for the day when I could say what I was in one word and people would understand.

Now, I'm a first-grade teacher. Everyone has interacted with a first-grade teacher. Most of the time, it happened when they were six. I think that people view my job with their six-year old eyes--complete with flashbacks to tall women, who held their hand, and talked in a soft voice.

I view my job with the eyes of a 29-year-old. I see first grade as a time to teach children to read, to help them develop the skills they will need for the rest of their lives, and a daily struggle between chaos and learning. I spend my energy trying to figure out how to best help the student who tries so hard and still cannot write with vowels. I struggle to figure out how I can package the process of reading more effectively to help my students learn to see the patterns in at the words around them. I try to bring patience, understanding, and awareness to each moment. I often fail, forget and overlook. But, I keep trying. And, they are learning.

Last night, I was asked if my students napped and asked to tell stories about the funny things they do by a stranger who found out I was a teacher. I felt like I made characters of my students and myself. I feel like I should be able to give people a more accurate description of my job, so that people do not have to perpetuate their somewhat misguided views of what the world of education looks like right now. But, I have to worry about knowing exactly where 24 individuals are in their literacy development, figure out how to teach the concept of polygons most effectively, and try to incorporate technology in the classroom, while maintaining an environment that promotes kindness, democracy, and civil society.

collection of thougths (life)

Ok. I went out last night and had much St. Patrick's Day fun. I meet firefighters from Orlando who had marched in the parade. I heard a band play. While normally, I do not really love the idea of a cover band, the opportunity to hear a James song, followed by Led Zeppelin, followed by a song from the Breakfast Club was actually just what I wanted to hear. The lead singer wore a lot of eye makeup and had a faux hawk. Ever since the Cure, a man who has perfected the smoky eye look really does something for me.

I came home, went to bed, and woke up at 6 this morning. My response to a night out was to watch the first disk of Frontier House with my roommate this morning. Here are some highlights of my running commentary of the morning and reflections on an evening out:

*My roommate has access to a whole lot of me. Since living with her, I have realized that I am a crier. I cry a lot. Not heaving sobs. But, tears (and she says unintelligible language). I cry because of movies (Miracle, the Hurricane)...well, that's basically it. Oh, wait, Oprah's 20 anniversary special also made me cry. And, also, anytime someone tells me good news, like they are getting married, is having a baby, or does something they are proud of. I cry like a baby. Before living with someone, I was not so aware of when I cried. Now, that there is someone watching and I feel the need to share my emotions mid-cry, I really amazed at how much I leak the tears.

*Sweet-haat. I was repeatedly called this during the evening by a man that started out at nice and normal and ended up being crazy-jealous-guy. He was ready to fight people and taxis, very touchy--tried to serve as my human seatbelt, and kept talking crazy. I had no idea that I could have my flight response kick in to hearing things that should be nice in a very different context (i.e. encouraging me to take a taxi home instead of walking, asking me what kind of flowers I like, and discussing our time on the alter together). But, not so much last night. One very funny thing that happened was when my friend described me as an atheist, but she really meant pacifist, and he had had to take her to the side and find out if I really didn't do the God thing. Funny.

*Frontier house is great. Those people are amazing. And, I love the whole Nate and Kristin relationship. Very nice. So good to see people open with one another. If I don't stop, I'm going to start crying again.

*I'm now a little bit nervous about the bridges around me. Last night, another crazy man I met was a Turkish engineer who designed bridges. He offered me crazy drugs and I had to point him away from me with my best first-grade teacher speak--"You, go there." This guy is responsible for keeping zillions of people alive as the cross bridges. What is he doing altering his state?!

Now, I'm running late. I am supposed to be at my family's house in 2 hours for our annual corned beef and cabbage and I'm not even close to ready to go. Ah!

The Reading Writing Project (teaching)

If you want to teach someone to read, you must be a reader. If you want to teach someone to write, you need to dedicate yourself to the craft of writing. This blog began as my experiment to see if I could incorporate writing in to my day. Now, the blog has become a featured player in my life. It is something I look forward to doing, something that has become a true hobby.

Today, I went to a workshop by the TC Reading Writing Project. As I was thinking about the process of writing during a workshop, two thoughts came to mind. There was a blogger who lived in my neighborhood who followed all the rules on successful blogging; she blogged on a regular basis, was interesting and funny. Then, she moved to Vermont. When she blogs now, it is about the hikes she has taken and food she has made. That's it. No daily update on things to do, musing about her environment. It seems to me that this blogger has become less focused on writing about her world and more focused on living in her world.

Then, I happened to come across another NYC blogger who described herself as an agoraphobe. Whether it was in jest or not, it made me think of the space I put between myself and the world. I have tried to make my apartment a haven from the surrounding world. I do believe that, sometimes, I am much too successful at that effort. I could not escape from the fact that maybe my place is causing me this distance. Maybe I'd be a very different me if I was someplace else.

Finally, the reading part of my title. I sat next to two women during the conference. One had taught for 30 years and the other had probably taught for a few years more. One in Bushwick and the other in the South Bronx. One loved teaching, her students, and seemed to have created a wonderful learning environment for her children. The other was overwhelmed. She did not seem able to incorporate or understand the new ideas she was being forced to use in her classroom. She did not like her students. And, she could not believe that anyone else was able to teach in these new ways. One could not wait to retire. The other was conflicted with the idea of not giving and getting love from her students.

What is it that makes one teacher so successful and the other so overwhelmed? What characteristics allow for someone to be open to ways to make their teaching more effective? What happens to make someone cling to their past? I wonder what kind of teacher I will become in a year, in a decade. I wish there was some way for me to mold myself in the model of the loving teacher I talked with today, become effective, poetry in motion. We will just have to wait and see.

the biopic (life)

Netflix has been a good addition to my life. I recently watched two amazing films, both in the biopic genre. Walk the Line made me remember how much I love Johnny Cash. Last year, I read Shakey (the 800 page biography about Neil Young) and was amazed at how much I did not know about the context of his life. Walk the Line as similar for me and Johnny Cash.

The Hurricane had me in tears; the emotion was not just do to the fact that I often cry during sports related movies. The first time I had heard of Ruben Carter's story was through music. My brother once gave me a CD with Ani DiFranco covering the Dylan song. Then, I listened to the words I had grown up hearing (my parents went through a very long Dylan phase, which I did not appreciate at the time). I was moved by the dedication and focus of each person involved and the lives they lived.

While not a biopic, Saving Grace was a very good response to the day. For some reason, I forget that I enjoy the comedy and default to the documentary or drama when I choose movies. This movie had one of the best monologues I've heard. Very funny.