thunderstorms

Weather forecast forMonrovia, Liberia.

The panel has spoken

We had "panel" today at my school and I served. There were three teachers, and all the students who didn't get credit for 3 classes last term had to show up in front of us and plead their cases why they should get a 2nd chance instead of being booted to adult school (a permanent situation after 4 or more years in high school and systematic failure) or GED prep (a term-long elective class, after which they can return to the school if they got credit).

Let's just say, I make Simon Cowell look nice. My bullshit detector is sensitive and very activated and I use it well. The best moment was the principal busting a kid for lying by calling the teacher in front of the father, after the principal had overriden last term's panel saying the kid should go to GED. He was plenty pissed at the lying kid, but serves him right for overriding teachers.

This morning my day started with, "Juan, why aren't you in class?" "I don't have a 1st period." "Really? So if I go check your schedule I will see no 1st period?" "Yeah."

So, of course, I checked his schedule and was back there within a minute. "Come. Now." I escorted him personally to the vice-principal for lying to me.

Then, after he showed up for my class later (which I would have skipped if I were him - but he wasn't even hostile to me), he met me in panels - our first kid. And he said his classes are too hard. "Really?" I think I even peered over my glasses. "And it doesn't have anything to do with you skipping those classes and then lying about it?" Let's just say, I was on a roll after that. "REally?" I would say skeptically to so many kids. "Then why does your record show this? Why do your teachers say this? Would you like to change your story now?"

Let's see how long my truck lasts without being vandalized.

The other two teachers and I agreed on every decision (I think we made about 60 today), and they let me take the lead. Rendering verdicts, I like it. And no, I didn't send all kids away, lots got second chances including some I'm really proud of (including a 17-year-old taking primary responsibility for his newborn son and a girl who just entered drug rehab), but only the ones we think deserve it. Which, in all honesty, with the exception of Juan (who's only been with me for a week), was all my students. I was so proud of Jose, who practiced the speech I prepped him, and he was oh, so convincing. And Sabdy, who was properly contrite, after I yelled at her for getting a B in my class and being one of my best students and failing all her other classes. I like my kids and get protective of them, though we're booting two at tomorrow's panel.

I like this voting off the island thing. I think we need a whole elaborate ceremony with torches being extinguished and everything.

Yeah, I'm finding it way too fun. But I have to get my kicks somewhere, and I've taught too many years with no voice in consequences. Now, I decide the consequences when the kids have effed up, and I like it. I get to hone the school down to the kids who really want to be there and do their work.

I'll probably volunteer for panel every time until the end of the year - unless the principal vetoes.

One of the other teachers, I talked to her about that today. "Why has no administrator set foot in my classroom? Do they really not give a shit what's going on?" "No," she said, "They see, as we all do, that you are competent and you really know what you're doing, so they trust you. He hasn't done his job for the past 10 years and now he's getting a hard time from the district office, so he's worried about that and knows you're doing what you're supposed to."

So, that makes me feel a little better. But I still think it's a really crappy school for teachers - no support at all, total isolation, etc.

I will have to post some of the comments teachers wrote about their students for the panel consideration. One actually wrote "P.O.S." next to a kid's name.

I thought he meant "Part of Speech" and I was like, "Hello? He's a noun!" Then I realized - he just called that kid a piece of shit. And that, blog friends, is messed up. No kid is a piece of shit. They can be jerks and flaming assholes and aggravating as hell and frustrating and referral-worthy and obnoxious and druggies and all sorts of bad things - but those are all temporary states, and I would never write that about any of my kids for the people making serious decisions. In fact, I think we gave that kid a 2nd chance - and my reasoning was just to piss off that asshole teacher.

Ah, it was a powerful day in ME-landia. Maybe they should send me to Cote d'Ivoire to halt hostilities. My Liberian friends say I should be put in charge of the war in Iraq and everything would be handled before the weekend.

Liberia: America's Stepchild

I just finished watching this PBS show from the late 1990's ... it begins with showing former President Doe of Liberia and his gunmen stripping the former cabinet members, tying them to posts on the beach, and shooting them dead. Cheering as the bodies are slumped at the base of the poles.

And it just gets worse.

That's not entirely true. There's a nice historical section for most of the video, exploring Liberia's history and the relationships with the United States.

And then the violence begins again. Including that infamous footage of Prince Yormie Johnson holding Doe hostage 10 years later - cutting off his ear, eating it, ridiculing and torturing him. The video says they castrated Doe, too. Could be. Much worse was done to the non-famous.

There was a brief, unnamed show of Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf when she campaigned in 1997 against Charles Taylor. She's the president now, from the recent elections (Taylor was until 2003, when he was finally convinced to flee to Nigeria - where is still is, without any punishment for the horrible crimes he committed). At least she can't be castrated. But Taylor's soldiers have tortured and raped her before.

I don't know what Liberia's future holds. I hope for the best and am glib about it.

But I also understand why Dayton really wants to get out again - it's not my body with the bayonet scars. I have not experienced. I have seen videos and read books and talked to people, but I have not experienced these horrible, horrible things done.

I watched the video carefully, looking for people I know, relieved I didn't recognize them. I watched Elizabeth Blunt of the BBC talking about ducking under a table during the gun battle when Doe was taken prisoner and the bodies she had to step over when she could eventually leave. Some of them were my friends' family members - because 70% of the refugee camp is Doe's tribe. They all fled, justifiably fearing revenge from Taylor and the other factions.

And I am sickened not only by this history, but by the present. How Joseph (and many others) can wear pro-Doe t-shirts. The man committed horrible atrocities and was supremely incompetent in leadership. What's to celebrate? That he's the same tribe and rewarded his peeps? That will push Liberia back into more evil and bloodshed.

At the same time, it is SO BEAUTIFUL in Liberia. And I'm so 'homesick' for West Africa. I miss the lilting voices, the music, the clothes, the snap handshake, the rice & greens, my man.

Liberia would be heaven on earth, except that it's been hell for more than 25 years.

But I do hate the title of this show. I will not abandon and neglect and abuse my stepchildren, as America has done to Liberia.

new phone

So, I finally just DID IT and bought a new phone. Getting it from Target instead of t-mobile.com saved me the price of my parking ticket from last week. Everything evens out eventually.

After it's charged, I'll activate it and get a new number. My old number will still be good for a couple months or until the balance is run out, but I'll be carrying my new phone (because it will have fewer problems with reception and dead battery) and let people know the new number (no, I'm not such an idiot that I'm putting it on here).

I decided not to go with the international phone, and so I saved about $200 and I'll just have to buy a phone in Africa when I get there.

Driving on the freeways here ... it's like I just want to go and go and go. I didn't let myself get gas because I was afraid of doing just that.

And Gail - I had a muffin today. Cranberry Orange. Yum.

Liberian English

This email below is from a Liberian friend of mine in Ghana, one of the few women I knew pretty well (most of my friends there are men), and what follows is a good example of Liberian English - amongst the 20% of the population that is literate. It's good reality check for me, that "proper" grammar isn't a sign of intelligence - this woman is a smart cookie. We used to eat goat soup together, and her 11-year-old son and I would play soccer together - he's fun. Quiet, but fun. I used to call her "Big Pimp Momma" for the little hand she played in hooking up international volunteers with Liberian men (ok, two of us - maybe three or four in the history of the organization).

Things are just so different there. The way she signed her name - "Mercy" (the way I thought she spelled it) is different than her email address name "Mercey." My initial response is, "Well, what's your birth certificate say??" But she probably doesn't have one. So many Liberians I met have no idea when they were born - or sometimes they know the day but not the year. "The Director" of the organization where I volunteered guesses his age by sperm - if he's the age his parents tell him, he fathered a child when he was about 9; but, he thinks he didn't father (and abandon) until about 13, so thinks their estimation is wrong. Even the mothers who enrolled their children at school through us - so many couldn't remember when their children were born. No record made to check, and not all of them live. It's just so different there.

************

"Being wanting to get in touch with you"

I have been wanting to get in touch with you. since you samuel to give me you email addressed he has been drilling me up and down, it is only today that he satisfy to give it to me. I miss you a whole lot and all the fun we had together during the time spent with us. How is life? How is you and Dyton? i hope you guys are copping on well . How is you class with you students? I miss you a whole lot and hoping to hearing from you.
I love you and take care of Dyton property(smile).

a day in the life

Me: "Carlos, where have you been? You've already missed three days and the term just started!" [Students do not get credit after 7 absences.]

Carlos: "I know, I know. I'll be here, don't worry."

Me: "But, I do worry when you're not here."

Carlos: "Yeah, I know. Why do you think I'm here today?"
[That's it? All I have to do is let kids know I worry and then they show up??]

*************
Me: "Eduardo, do #1."

Eduardo: Lions are carnivores because they eat meat.

Me: "Raquel, #2."

Raquel: Omnivores eat both animals and plants.

Me: [seeing Octavio's hand raised] "Yes, Octavio? Do you have a question?"

Octavio: I want to do #3. [Octavio barely speaks any English. For him to volunteer an answer is a HUGE step. Especially because it's not a real volunteering class. It's more of a zoo class - a new student moved in from another class said today to me as she left, "They're like kindergartners!"]

Me: Great. It's yours. [This is after I scolded Karen, at his table, for speaking Spanish with him and not making him practice English - but she was speaking English and I just didn't understand because of her thick accent. Oy vey.]

**************

Me: Class, what year did the Civil War start?

Class [after a pause that was too long for my comfort]: 1861

Me: And the Emancipation Proclamation? Look at the text.

Class: 1863.

Me: That's right. It was no longer legal to own humans then. The slaves were freed. Emancipation means freedom.

David [with a regular pattern of racist remarks]: That was a big mistake.

Me: This racism is unappreciated and unacceptable here.

David: What?! I'm just saying what I think!

Me: Think what you want, but cut out the offensive speech.
[A couple hours later I got a call from the kid's biology teacher who's having major problems with him and he solicited input - same issue everywhere; actually he's best for me. But he's on notice - I'll have a referral all written for him tomorrow, and after his once daily warning, he's out.]

the best parts of teaching

(Yeah, this is supposed to help me make it through until June 16, because getting up early to handle delinquents instead of reading the Comparative Education Review at my bedside - well, it's not my first choice.)

1. When a kid asks a question and really gets it when you help and thanks you.

2. When a kid asks another kid for help and that kid explains it well and the first thanks the second.

3. The last day of every month (payday!).

4. Fridays right after the last class on a 3-day weekend.

5. Being able to say "aight" and the kids know what you mean.

6. Deep critical discussions related to the content and their experiences.

7. Every kid doing an assignment without any protests or whines or refusals or stupid excuses - working together and helping each other so everyone is successful.

8. Every kid passing the class and learning what they were supposed to.

9. The kids finishing up an assignment early and chilling with 'em a few.

10. Letters and visits years later where they say how I helped 'em and believed in 'em when nobody else did and how that made a difference. (Especially strange when it's not kids I really focused on helping.)

11. An administrator who isn't a dumbass (have yet to experience that, but can dream).

12. Kids taking responsibility for themselves and their learning and their class.

13. Kicking ass on district and state tests. I love saying to my students, "Your scores were the best in the entire district - better than those snobby rich kids in that OTHER school who think they're all that - and you improved 71% since the beginning of the year."

14. A kid seeing something that needs to be taken care of in the classroom and just doing it because it's a community of responsible people.

15. A kid saying something in their life outside made them apply something learned in class, and they explained it to the others there. (Weird of this is kids and their parents emailing me to settle grammar disputes between them.)

16. Having a meeting with a kid and his/her parents and decisions being made - and that kid actually following through and moving past the rough spot to success and making positive new habits.

17. Learning new slang.

18. When we all like each other and feel comfortable enough to laugh a lot while getting all the work done.

19. Kids so eager to discuss a book that they fall out of their desk raising their hand so hard (Brandy M.).

20. Kids asking if I think they can do something and I say yes and they believe me and do accomplish it - especially if something they thought they couldn't do.

the other moments today

1. New kid. He's been beat down already, and started off (I always meet the new kids outside so they can tell me a little about themselves before they enter the full room) by telling me his failure days - at all the district high schools - are over. I asked if this is the right class for him, and I said that if I thought it wasn't that we'd get him where he needs to be within a couple of weeks when his records come, etc. etc. I had him write an essay, which the other kids were typing.

And Gail, if you're reading, um, I'm all about the 4-squares now (I changed them a little). Once a kid does one of those, they're good to go. So this kid, he does a 4-square about his girlfriend, and I say, "Write the essay now," and his homies are trying to help him, and his eyes get big, and he says, "A 5-paragraph essay?" And I say, "Look vato [OK, I didn't say vato], you already did all the work. All you have to do now is put it together." And I helped him just a little with spelling and he finished it all and he was damn proud.

And when he left, he stayed a minute, and he shook my hand and said how happy he is to meet me.

2. Octavio was leaning back in the chair. [I'm taking him back to the comprehensive high school on Friday - I'm actually driving him there and meeting with the counselor with him to make sure he doesn't get shafted. (He actually never should have been at our school because of his limited English - he was dumped there.)]

So I said, "Hey, Octavio! Put the chair down on the floor!"

And then I used my new strategy. I've been telling the kids to practice their English more, and to limit their Spanish to when they really need to (I only have one class where it's the problem, and it's mostly a problem with Octavio, who hasn't learned English in five years because his homies only speak Spanish around him, limiting his learning). Also, when they speak Spanish they're often pretty damn inappropriate with the swearing and fighting words and all that - and I don't catch them all. But they blow me off and speak it all the time except to me. So my new strategy? I speak to them in Spanish - but BAD Spanish - with a thick accent and deliberate grammatical mistakes that make us all laugh. And then, when they're trying to get away with something - they're whispering some plan in the corner in Spanish I happen to hear - I rip out something perfect in Spanish that makes them go, "Oh, shit, we can't get away with nothing." I keep 'em on their toes.

So this strategy was, "La silla. El piso. Como se dice?"

Eduardo, who was trying to help Octavio edit an essay (trust me, Octavio's English writing has improved, which is all I can say), said, "Say 'tengo'."

Tengo? What? Octavio, bless his little heart, said, "Pon la silla en el piso" (or whatever is actually correct). But Eduardo kept saying, "Say 'tengo'." Clearly he wanted to set me up.

Tengo? OK, I'll bite. "Say 'tengo la'." Then I start to get it. "Say 'tengo la camisa negra'."

And the moment was so ripe. I burst into full song and sang it loud and proud. When the laughter subsided I realized I hadn't had to yell at anybody all day. Except about the chair. But that led me to get to sing.

3. OK, I got stood up at racquetball, then I got a parking ticket while being stood up, and then doors to buildings I needed to get into were locked, and there were no paper towels in the restroom. Thank the universe I didn't get into some horrible accident, because the stars were clearly out of alignment for me tonight.

Ismael update

Ismael, the kid who I know was thinking about knifing the bitch (me) when I told him what to do yesterday, NOT ONLY kept his promise to me, but he DID HOMEWORK and completed typing today and did ok. (Not great, but it's the first essay the boy's ever really written in his life.) The little boy pride that erupted across his battered gangsta face - just for a fleeting second, but I caught it - was cool.

I had to write goals and objectives today for Flanders (what the kids call the Assistant Principal, and it's very appropriate). What a putz. He'll try to correct them and shit, but what the hell does he know about teaching? He could never handle my classroom. There would be Flanders Stew in room 26.

The kid who is like nails on a chalkboard to me today said (when I was speaking with the girl we call "Simone" because she always says, "Si, mon!"), "Miss [that's what they all call me when they don't call me 'Teacher''], you really know a lot of Spanish." "What's that supposed to mean? Is that some sort of racist comment? Because I'm a white girl you think I can't hablar?"

Being a teacher: Not making enough money to support a family.
Classroom supplies: $200 tax-deductible per year; the average teacher drops way more than a grand each year.
Making a pain-in-the-ass kid think twice because you nailed his racist prejudiced ass: priceless.

Hehe. Do I really think he's racist? Nah. I just think he has a small mind that needs to be expanded. Making him uncomfortable is just the way to do that. We tried comfortable and he tried to keep asking me out. Ew. Nasty. Ick.

Anyway, Simone speaks the coolest Spanish of anybody - bar none - that I know. She throws in this really ultra-hip slang and talks with a funky, spunky, sassy rhythm, and her accent just flows. She uses language - both languages really, but Spanish somewhat better because of the sass factor - in this creative, fun way. I said I'm making MP3 recordings of her talking about any old thing just so I can learn to start talking like her.

I thought my arm hurt from playing racquetball on Saturday, but I think it's because the wind is so strong that it takes super-strength to pull the doors shut. The office door almost got me today - it seriously was pulling me back outside and I couldn't close it. But I won because, well because I'm that stubborn bitch Ms. B that might get knifed someday but it'll be for a damn good reason.

No walking today.

It's that windy kinda day here - the kind of day that rips stop signs off their posts, that makes me say to students with normally beautiful hair, "I think the wind won today," that makes my truck feel like it's toppling over when I drive.

Tell me, am I unreasonable? Classes at my school last only six weeks, which with holidays works out to 28 days this term. The counselor still has not got all my classes settled (I gave her the change list last Wednesday at 7:30 a.m.), and she told me it will be taken care of "next week." Um, WTF?!

Today was actually cake because none of the new kids had been moved in, and there were lots of absences. All the nice kids showed up and did their work and helped me sort through schedule changes and book check-outs. All the good students get graduated out of my class. Several begged to stay just for today, just one more day, and I tried to say no, but that's kind of hard. One showed a brand-new-to-our-school student the ways of my class - she checked in her books and then I checked them out to the new kid.

Favorite moment of the day? Telling Ismael, the kid who's never been in high school because he's been in lock-up all his adolescence, to move over and sit by my desk so I could help him (he was the only one who hadn't completed his essay). He ignored me the first time, and then I said, "Now." I could see his eyes narrow, those little wheels in his head turning: "Is it worth knifing her now?" Fortunately, blog fans, he decided "no" and he did come sit by me and he did do his work and he did express interest in beginning the term with a good grade and completing all assignments. Before school, when he was walking with his homie, they both greeted me with smiles.

Why are these my favorite moments? Because of who these particular kids are. They are the toughest adolescents anywhere - they've done time and they may do lots more of it - but I can get them to do work and pleasantly greet me even before I greet them. See, they don't have to worry about looking cool - they look scary as hell and they scare most the rest of the delinquents. And when the other kids see them being nice to me, and me completely unscared of them, it makes a difference. When the gangstas and I are treating each other with respect, it makes the poseurs step back.

I have a drag queen in my class - he's back now after being gone last term. He dresses very pretty (not full drag - semi-drag still) and wears makeup and nail polish and speaks in a low falsetto and is always suffering from extreme ennui. Not in my class, but at our school, is a girl who insists she's a boy - refuses to use the girls' bathroom, looks like a boy, tells teachers she's a boy, etc. At first I thought, "So what's the problem?" but s/he's obnoxious about it, going into the boys' restroom shouting "Suck my dick!" and s/he ain't got one. Stood up to the principal and told him s/he was a boy until he picked up the phone to call her case worker for medical records. What's sad is that she's in foster care and that won't cover the sex change treatments s/he clearly desires so badly. And while my principal is a stupid hick, when faced with a kid who really is adamant, he will negotiate, so now he calls her/him by the boy's name chosen, which is a cool validation.

Apple fritters are my new diet secret.

Um, I guess not a secret anymore.

I was over at Michele's and ate "a bite" (almost half) of hers, and I haven't really been much hungry today after that.

Or, it could be the oatmeal - it's the Trader Joe's Complete (they add soy protein and such) - last time I tried it I thought it was awful, but that was nothing that a splash of milk, a chopped up Ambrosia apple, and generous dashes of cinnamon can't fix.

Or maybe it was how she so kicked my butt at racquetball. Wow, I really suck. Well, the good news about that is I can only really improve. I've played racquetball I think a total of twice in my life, and those were both about 23 years ago, so my expectations aren't too high. I just feel bad that I'm not a good partner for her - but I think we both got a good workout.

I bought racquetballs today at Target while I was there. Now I don't feel like such a poseur.

So, I talked to Dayton on the phone today. He's in Liberia and doesn't know when he can leave (since I can't send him more money to bail him out). Anyway, the phone connection was HORRIBLE and so frustrating (which I also used to my advantage - making him apologize multiple times, "What was that? I can't hear you"). It was his brother's phone, whom he was visiting for the evening - and the brother sounds just like him. Dayton called this morning before 6:00 am - actually I had been awake before that but then went back to sleep, so it was fine - I'm pretty early to rise every day recently. He asked me to call him back in five hours - and when I did he was in a "family meeting." A WHAT?! Sheesh! I'm not marrying into a family that does THAT! Heck, I don't even talk to my own family - his people better not be expecting me to get in on that action.

I don't know when I'll talk to him again. He's not usually around people with phones, and then not when I can talk.

I really don't want to teach again next year - I want to be done in June for good. I've said it before, but I really mean it now. This of course means that I can't afford to bring a family here - couldn't even get him a visa if I'm not employed.

I've applied for a dissertation fellowship - and one of my former profs forwarded me the recommendation letter and I was like, "Wow! Who is this person he's writing about?! She sounds cool and great - I want to meet her!" Anyway, my proposal may be problematic (according to one prof), but I'm going to send it ahead nearly as-is (because it has the Jenny stamp of approval).

If I get that, I can just barely afford to support myself next year. If I don't get it, I might take out student loans and save like crazy for the rest of this year. Either way, no teaching. This would allow me to spend more time doing research - and maybe even more time in Oregon.

Teaching is a really great profession, and I'm glad I did it - but I'm ready to move on now. Too often in the middle of a lesson I think, "I would so much rather be reading or researching now." I sort of am researching while teaching, but it's nothing to publish, nothing for my future.

And I think that when I finish my PhD I really want to go to West Africa to work for awhile - preferably with a university there. That will give me a chance to get some work published and to really spend time doing good research there.

Where does that leave Dayton and me? I dunno. We can't talk these things through because of the logistics problems. Ergh. I do love him and I want to be with him here or there, but I'm not taking things for granted because I'm changing all the rules and expectations of our relationship with these new plans.

Tomorrow is going to be hell. It's a new term, and the counselor didn't change all my classes (every single class has a completely different make-up) - so I won't even know who will show up, and how can I start lessons when the wrong kids are there and that won't be sorted out for a couple days - maybe not even a week? The terms are only 6 weeks long, and now I already am missing a couple days teaching - plus, it's a behavior management nightmare. And I'm adding kids who are unsuccessful in their regular English classes - which is usually about laziness and bad attitude more than poor English scores, but I'm covering our butt by servicing them. They're are going to be PISSED OFF to be put back into ELD.

Ugh. Only 20 more weeks. Damn, that's a lot.

A fun article here about dog mushers (specifically the Iditarod) and their food habits. Dogs will consume up to 10,000 calories a day. This article says 3,000 per day for mushers, but I think it's significantly higher than that.

I just remember my friend Andy who stayed with me for awhile as he was skiing the Iditarod trail. He had mailed ahead food, some of which he left behind - King Size Snickers and Little Debbie snackcakes and all sorts of junk. He and his friends (there were three skiing together) were eating machines. Like Todd, a former roommate of mine who used to run marathon distances for fun on weekends. (Once when he said he was going for a little run I asked if he would take Selma. Hours later they came home and I asked how she did: "Oh, she was fine the first 18 miles or so, but then I had to kind of drag her." That's a LITTLE RUN?! She forgave him because he always shared ice cream with her - even sharing a spoon with her.)

Me, I'll just eat at BoBo's with Michele and Shirley after a nice elliptical session. Which, BTW, reading while ellipticizing - doesn't work for me.

There was this guy that came in and made sort of a little production - he had a big bag of stuff and got on the elliptical, with this whole, "I'm an athlete and this is my space," attitude. Yeah, he lasted about 5 minutes, and then he was actually off the machine and standing in front of it to watch TV basketball game. I kept looking over to see if he was still there - when I left almost an hour later, he had only moved closer to the TV.

Um, this is NOT the way to get in shape, dude!

One of my students requested that I pick a more Mexican-sounding word than "dude." Pointing out to him that I'm white didn't sway him. I said "pendejo" probably isn't appropriate, and guey (however you spell it) sounds goofy from my mouth, and vato isn't so cool anymore. What's a white girl to do?

eating with friends

Yes, Jenny and Gail, I want a muffin, and Ralph's Rocky Road ice cream - all yum!

When I lose 7 more pounds (maybe 3-4 weeks - my metabolism is a very strange thing and is quite unpredictable) I will be to an intermediate weight-loss goal, and on that day I will eat:

• a muffin! (the exclamation point indicates none of that low-fat bran crap, either)
• pizza - and not the healthy vegetable stuff from Trader Joe's - I'm going to that pizza place over by Tapioca Express by where I used to live - is it Capone's - and I'm getting the house special with all the fatty meats, and I'm eating FOUR SLICES - until I'm very full
• Hm ... maybe I'll have to get a mango snow bubble while right beside Tapioca Express
• then later, when able to eat again, I'll have Ralph's Rocky Road ice cream

Do I have a posse to join me??

Today I'm going to BoBo's with Michele, despite my discomfort. She tells me that the owner has quite a crush on me (asks if I'm seeing anyone, where I am, etc.). He has been living with a woman for years - and I think I already established here clearly that I will be no man's deputy wife! - I'm the sheriff! - and he's not my type anyway. So, I can feel icky about it - or I can use it to my advantage - get him to cook me special, not-on-the-menu dishes - like Orange Tofu with greens, or something such. I can get him to measure and guess caloric content of dishes. I shall use my irresistable sex appeal (ha!) for my nutritional gain!

But first, a continuation of my love affair with the elliptical. And I'm even taking reading to do while on - maybe I will like that.

Tuesday I'm scheduled for racquetball with Calvin. I just hope I don't injure him like I used to injure my brother when we would play together (more than 20 years ago). I do very much like to hit things, though it is quite socially unacceptable, so maybe this will be a good release for me. No, not to hit Calvin - to hit the ball against the wall.

Polenta Florentine

Tube of polenta from Stater Bros. (have at Trader Joe's, too, I think)
Organic baby spinach from TJ's
Spray olive oil from TJ's
pasta sauce (I like Classico)

Lightly sautee the spinach. Remove from pan. Slice the polenta - maybe 1/4" thick. Lightly fry. Top with spinach and tomato pasta sauce.

Yum.

And I ate it, and I'm full in my belly ... but my brain is crying out for 3 Musketeers and Oreos and Ben and Jerry's. WTF?!

I mean, it was one thing in Ghana, when what we had to eat was what we had to eat and that was it. But here - there are SO MANY DAMN OPTIONS all the time, and all sorts of very yummy and extremely unnecessary things. Why does everybody not weigh 2,000 pounds?

Opportunity To Speak

Cashier: Do you want some help out with these [three small bags of groceries]?

What I did not say: Yeah, that would be great. Since I just walked four miles, these last five blocks with carrying the groceries will be too much for me - so if you could carry them home for me, that would be great. Put 'em away and I'll meet you there.

***********

Student [before school]: If you help me with this [editing his personal narrative], I'll buy you lunch.

What I did not say: You can't afford me, loser.

************
Me [to student off-task]: Move over to this other spot, now.

Student: What's your problem?

Me: What's my problem? What's my problem?! Do you understand how inappropriate it is to speak to me like that?

Student: Ah, Ms. B, I thought we were tight, like homies.

Me: If you thought that, then you are clearly on crack.

***************

I am a consummate label reader. I spent over half an hour in the grocery store looking at dozens of labels of products which I did not buy. I compared 10 different kinds of Fudgsicle-like products to buy none - because none had enough actual chocolate in it for me (or it had some artificial sweetener crap). I probably look very strange in there - on the security cameras they probably have me pegged as some sort of industrial espionage agent, my MP3 player some data-collection device.

I thought today of Bryce, a former student, who talked SO MUCH ALL THE DAMN TIME. I invented "opportunity to speak" cards - he got three per class period. He had to give me a card every time he spoke, and if he spoke more than that, there was some consequence. Talking to classmates was fine during worktime, but this kid wanted MY attention ALL THE TIME, and there were 35 kids in that class.

I have more like him now, and I am not amused.

One kid actually refused to give his speech today. Actually it didn't bother me too much because he was going to fail either way (he was gone three weeks and did NONE of the work - but his brother in the same class, different section, earned a B), but I sent him up to the office on referral. Kids throughout the day told me they were shocked that everybody spoke - a few tried not to, and I was having none of that bullshit. Of course it's not fun, but it's a standard and it's required. So, WTF with teachers allowing kids to pass classes without doing what they're required to do?? Who exactly are they helping?

The kids in 5th period actually got me to allow them onto the internet today. After the speeches we weren't starting anything new, so why not? I could finish up my grades and they were happy. One half of one period of one term - I think I'm not a horrible teacher because of it. I hope. There are strict filters on our internet, and every time I looked up some kid was blocked off some site. Saves me from babysitting. Just annoys me I can't check my email at work. Oh well.

bad advice

Want to be an effective teacher? Ignore all the bullshit they tell you in teacher credentialing programs, in-services, and books by people who make lots of cash since they left teaching.

Tell a kid when s/he is being a jerk and tell them to knock it off.

Screw the reasoning, the tiered consequences, the assertive discipline, the upbeat mantras, the private conferences where you tell them how much you care.

Of course you care - they can smell it. If you don't care, GET THE FUCK OUT OF TEACHING. There are enough deadbeats already.

You need to be a lot more like a gang leader than a mommy. Most kids treat their mommas like crap, and when you got 35 like that at once, it's enough to cause a nervous breakdown.

Instead, be persistent and firm, and never, ever give up. A kid can hold their own with me for a while, but eventually - and it doesn't take long - they give up. I'm a stubborn shit. It's because I don't have kids of my own - I rest up at nights and get ready to fight a new day.

Also because I don't have kids of my own, I don't think any teenager gets to give me a hard time. If I wanted that, I wouldn't have used birth control for so many years. At least those shits would need to support me in my old age.

Never trust administrators. I don't care how good and caring and supportive they seem - they have a different mission than you. You are there to ensure the kids learn and are successful, and you are required by the teacher code to do whatever it takes. Administrators have to worry about the building level. You don't. You have to worry about every punk-ass who walks through your threshold. And that's more than enough.

Don't send kids to the office because then you lose control. If they start to be a jerk, jump up in their face and say, "Hey! Stop being a jerk or go someplace else!" 99 times out of 100 they'll want to stay and they'll stop being a jrk. The 100th is a sociopath who will tell you to fuck off - getting all the kids and administrators on your side. If you were reasonable with that kid, you would have to explain why you failed. Instead, he's clearly a jerk.

I tried to send a kid to the office today, but he begged not to go. And it worked - I knew that he would work if he had to, and he did. I got a kid who has failed out of high school and had horrible attendance TO BEG TO STAY IN MY CLASS AND WORK AND LEARN, and then he did.

He got what he wanted - which of course is what I wanted. Instead of saying, "Little Vincent, I would really like to see you complete this essay so that you'll earn a C this quarter, so please do it for me," I said I was done babysitting him and I started writing an office referral.

Sometimes the first one works, but you have to weigh the moment and the kid. I used that with the kid who has never attended high school because his entire adolescence has been in lock-up. "Look, I think you're smart enough, and I know it hurts your head to think like this, but I want to see you do it, so please do it for me." And he did. I had to hold his hand - but shit, the kid has never in his life written an essay and now he did, and that's gotta feel good. He wrote it about how Pomona is infested with gangs and murderers and drugs, so we both got educated. And I could hold his hand because "Vincent" got told and he had to figure things out independently. Which he could do because I gave clear directions and helped him write it last time.

I got this new kid who was "homeschooled" which I think is a euphemism for something. He said he could write an essay, but when I told him to he froze, and eventually asked for help. I showed him the 4-square (good god, I never thought I would teach that crap, but it works so well with my ELD kids) and he was good to go - and thanked me more than once.

A kid thanked me for showing him how to write an essay.

That's cool.

A kid thanked me for not kicking his whiny ass to the curb.

That's cool.

Every kid will turn in the required work that's due tomorrow (the last day of the quarter).

That's cool.

The principal said I'm the polar opposite of the last ELD teacher - she wanted to protect the kids and keep them in ELD forever. I want to challenge them and move them along - because I firmly believe that helps them. I do not kick out any kid that needs ELD help, but I will not be part of a system that punishes kids for being bilingual by requiring them to take remedial classes for eternity and therefore limiting their options. That's bullshit, and it's a civil rights issue, and the kids who've actually thought about it say "that's racist."

I'm not arguing. Because my kids, for a bunch of delinquents, are smart. And they wrote some awesome personal narratives which are actually interesting and enjoyable to read.

That's cool.

Is it Friday yet?

OK, only 16 more university class sessions to go - 48 more hours. I can do this.

I don't get to feel unappreciated at my university anymore.

One prof: "Hi, ME, you always make me think too, so yes, let's do try to find time for coffee." [Last year we had tea at her house before we both left for our respective summer destinations, and it was really ... enriching? Fun? Interesting? I hold her in tremendous regard, and she definitely withholds the praise, so to hear this from her is really someting to me.]

Another: "Well, I read your proposal with interest, and it sounds like a very good project to me." [I have good ideas! I want to do important work! This is great!]

I think though that I'm considerably more attractive when a memory than a reality. These profs HAD me in the past - the ones currently handling me are less ... thrilled with the H-quotient. They're cool - one walked to coffee with me yesterday and then waited to walk back with me. But they don't know me, and they don't know what to think. The one tonight thought I talked too much, but I think I was just more astute about the class - it's only the second session and not everybody felt like talking - so I would wait and look at reactions, and then jump in to get things going, then jump back in to keep them going. Shrug. I can be cool quiet, too, if she prefers. If she keeps bringing mom-made cookies, I'll keep my trap chewing all night long.

Oh, and I picked up a foreign man tonight. Well, we chatted it up at the Student Rec Center - he's from Korea and learning English, and it was interesting to talk (especially because he thought I was so interesting). As Amy used to say about me, "[ME] doesn't do domestic."

OK, time to finish the salad and get to reading.

An 8-list

Here is what I call a great professor:

Me: >I am applying for a dissertation grant and I wondered if you would>write me a letter of recommendation?

Him: Of course!

Me: >If so, I will forward>all the info to you, including my narrative of my project.

Him: Got it, and printed it. Will read it tonight.

I especially like the part in our conversations when he says I was the smartest, hardest-working student in the class I took with him last year. He thought all education students were morons (he's in political science), so exceeding those expectations weren't so tough.

Favorite Trader Joe's product of the moment:
Instant Miso Soup - yum!

Strangest thing a student said to me today:
"We should really hang out sometime."

How the kid who told me to fuck off on Friday acted today:
Mega-good. I was all ready to have no tolerance at all, but he was on-task and compliant. I think our awesome campus supervisor (security guard) talked some sense into him - I saw them talking.

Number of administrators I think are morons at my school:
Two. How many are there? Yup, two.

What I'm going to do in the next half hour:
Write a paper

What I'd rather be doing:
The elliptical again! (Which makes sense from the next item)

Stupidest decision of the day:
Drinking that Starbucks on the break from class - I said decaf but I sense it wasn't.

vegetable quandary

OK, so I just had dinner: a Gardenburger Griller - not as good as the originals - with beets and sauteed cabbage. I made a good move with a splash of tamari on the cabbage - sesame seeds would have been a nice touch, too.

Anyway, I'm getting a little maxed on vegetables and need more interesting ways to eat them. I'm mostly done with salad - I'm not a huge raw food fan anyway, and salad can be a little bitter. Sometimes it hits the spot, but not now.

I was thinking about bok choi, but I'm not sure what to do with them (besides sautee). I want new and exciting (and low-calorie, and easy & quick to prepare) things to do with vegetables.

Ideas??

I'm trying to get my 5-a-day!

breakfast pastries

This is one of the funniest things I've ever read. Am I hungry?

Ah, ellipticals

Ah, ellipticals ... how I've missed you!

Went to the university Student Recreation Center yesterday for the first time and renewed my love affair-addiction with ellipticals. I could tell it had been awhile at first - pain and fatigue set it - but then we renewed our love and it was all good. Running fast! No pain in knees! Ah, life is beautiful in the SRC.

I saw the racquetball courts there - that would be much fun to play.

And now, back doing more reading and writing. Assignments for classes done quickly and easily, but all the damn extra reading - that takes more time. Met with prof last week and she suggests institutional theory to help bridge the gap between culture theory and policy analysis - but everything she gave me to read (and all that I've heard of) is so culture-specific that it's pretty worthless. I'll still read it for a written qualifying exam question, but it's no help with my conceptual framework for my research.

Things are bad with Dayton - he's angry with me and I'm angry with him. Mostly because of expectations that were not discussed (many of which are culturally inspired, so they are common sense to each of us but not the other), but exacerbated badly by distance and communication technical difficulties. If we were near, we'd be yelling at each other now, but then we would have the chance to work it out. As it is ... I dunno. I won't say there's no hope, but we may be taking a break until we see each other again and then work things out or walk away. This long-distance thing is really hard for us both.

over it

I'm over that resolution about no more shouting at kids. Sometimes they need it, dammit. Just one class and just some boys and one girl. Next is phone calls home and then referrals. I'm over the patience for immaturity at high school. Don't waste my time or the rest of the class's.

Here are my students' scores from the test today :
A- 13
B- 12
C- 7
D-0
F-1 (and she is such an idiot sometimes I wonder how she remembers to breathe).

OK, I think of myself as a pretty good teacher, but that is RIDICULOUS especially at a continuation school with kids who don't pass standards or high school exit exams. These are the book exams that everybody in the district is supposed to use.

I'm over Shining Star textbooks. Dammit. I'll still use 'em, but they aren't helping my kids except with the self-esteem. Which is good. They need it. But not at the expense of real learning.

I'm over school. My classes are already boring me after only one session each. Oh, they're fine and the profs are cool and all that, but I really don't care about their topics and I wonder why I thought I would. I'd rather have that time to continue reading on my own, but instead I'm trapped. Ugh. OK, last term, last term.

I'm over the wind here - it SUCKS. I don't care if it's blue skies and warm - the wind kills it.

I'm over grading papers. Grades are due next week and I'm so behind on everything. I'm actually all caught up on grading, but to stay on top of that I've sacrificed all the other shit I really need to do - such as get my English learners in the right classes by checking their data (test scores, grades, etc.).

I'm over my ELD3 kids thinking they know everything. If they knew much of anything, they wouldn't still be in ELD3. All the kids with the good attitudes and brain cells to spare moved on up.

I'm over lazy district office personnel who don't do their jobs properly. The secretaries at d.o. in our district spend SO MUCH TIME not doing shit it makes me crazy. Come teach for a day and see what a real job is. I teach basically 8:00-1:15 with NO BREAK and then I have to grade, plan, meetings, eat lunch and urinate, all that. I know it's a cush job with the hours, but it's so much more work than any of those lazy asses do. They need to support us a whole hell of a lot better. I'm so glad our school secretaries are good.

I'm over debt. It sucks.

I'm over Bush. He never stops being evil vermin.

I'm over my roommate's loud sex. Ew.

I'm over Starbucks coffee drinks with 10 million calories. Who REALLY needs that?

5 a day

From Gail:
"Food have never been as good as when they come from your backyard...^_^

This week, we've had Choi Sum (like bok choy...) and Sugar Snap Peas...and of course, the Guavas and Oranges are growing like crazy. It's like, hey, I need to cook something for dinner - go out to the back and grab some peas and green onions...and get some oranges for dessert! Muah ha ha ha...^_^"

Ah, yes. Wishing I could garden. I guess I COULD but I'd have to get pots and soil and the expense would add up.

BUT, I think I've overcome my produce commitment phobia. Two weeks ago I did a fruit-focused few days, to detox and avert flu, and since then I've been eating lots of fruits & vegs (including an unfortunate collard greens dish on Sunday) and I feel great. Lots of energy and all that. I don't want to sound like a public service announcement, but it's not all crap, that advice about eating lots of fruits and vegetables. And Stater Bros. right behind us is a short little walk for vegs every couple days - it's great.

It smells like something is burning in the house but I can't figure out what. As I look around at what I can't stand to lose, it's all the practical stuff - my PhD notes and books. That would really, really suck. Clothes and computer and all that too - just a major hassle to get again - but without my study materials from the past three years I would be so totally screwed.

Classes start today. Sigh. Hopefully it's good, but I am a real pain in the ass student. Always have been, but it's gotten worse. Read a blog of a guy in interviews for residencies and the person interviewing said, "You have a lot of opinions, don't you?" "I've been in school 19 years. I have opinions." Goodness, I've been in school ... 13 + 6 + 1 + 2 + 3 = 25 (not counting all the time for extra classes while just working full-time). Damn straight I'm opinionated!

our class

My resolution today was to not yell at any kids. Not that I usually yell much, but last Friday I became uber-bitch, and it was less than effective.

I talked to the principal first, pointing out that I have six (now seven) boys in one class who cannot receive credit no matter what they do because they entered late in the term. Imagine just how NOT engaged they are in the tedium of English Language Development. Hell, I'm only there because I get paid. I like the kids too, but the curriculum is Boring.

Friday was bad in that class - it was like a mutiny and I was not winning the war. Oh, it looked like I was in control, but I knew - and the kids from lock-up knew - that it was only an illusion. One kid (just from lock-up) started overreacting to everything I said, the two lowest skills boys refused to speak English, and the low point was when a kid wrote in the dictionary (circling the word he was looking for) and then lied to me about it when I told him not to do that. That's the worst - lying to me. Hate it.

So today at the break, I started first on the kid who whines all the time (though he's gotten better). Then I went to the overreactor. He avoided eye contact with me but I called him over and we talked it over, and when the whiner joined us, the overreactor said "Yeah, I'm sorry, I won't act like that again. This is our class. [gesture including me, the whiner, and the homeboys on the fence] Our class."

Guess what I got today in our class? A kid who hasn't been to school in three years because he's been in lock-up. Nobody wanted to sit next to him because he was so scary. So, I spent most of my time counseling him - the boy wanted to talk and talk - but the rest of the class did ok. Not much babysitting, no yelling. And they were proud of themselves, especially the overreactor. He overreacts, I realize, because he has so many bad messages in his head, and I need to prove my commitment and belief in him and them.

The kid I really yelled at on Friday called me cool and I told him to knock it off. The girl with attitude asked, "Why you don't like it when he calls you that?" "Because I don't think he means it and his timing is bad." "But, he does mean it. We all do. You get mad sometimes because you want us to do things a certain way, but you are one of the very nicest teachers here. Even when you're frustrated, we know you love us."

Damn, I feel bad for these kids. I'm one of the nicest? And haven't been much nice to them at all, especially not that class. What on earth is going on in other classrooms?

Well, I sure hope the overreactor doesn't have to mark his territory.

Dayton's back in Liberia

"Now, I just arrived from Ivory Coast late yesterday with the children and Patricia being brought to Monrovia.
I had a very bad experience on my way to the Ivory Coast. I was detained for about two days by the rebels on charges of being a spy. However, one of the rebels who had a Liberian girlfriend and has a good heart for Liberians rescued me and assisted me throughout up to the border back to Liberia, but before he met me, his friends had taken enough of my money leaving me with just a small amout of $ 265.00 which I managed to bring us all from there to Liberia. I am now out of money completely and don't know what to do."

I can just hear him bargaining with the rebels, "Look, take all my money, but my girlfriend abroad is such a bi-atch if I don't email her regularly that she'll come and hurt you ALL if I don't get to email her on Monday like I promised."

I'm making light because ... well, because I have to or else it all makes me crazy. He so easily could have been killed in that situation - so many people have been.

All I gotta say is thank you Ms. Liberia for giving it up to a rebel!

So, he's taking his wife to her parents on Wednesday for officializing the divorce. [ME the homewrecker.] Or maybe not - he mentioned some "decision" to make in Liberia. Maybe he'll still be with her and stay there. Which, again, I keep telling myself, I'm fine with - I've encouraged that. Clearly she's not remarried because she came back to Monrovia with him. It's all so complicated - they were together so long and never separated of their own volition. I know he loves me, but I don't want to separate them if they could make it work.

On our communication issues: "I believe if I am communicating with you, I should have something to say about why I am here. I am talking about progress report, not just telling you sweet talks.I am a man who believe in works and not too much talks."

Which is of course why I'm in love with him - I trust him because he's about the deed rather than the promise. But sometimes, a girl likes sweet talk.

complicated adolescent living

Oh, Clifford, how I've missed you! After a few days of forcing myself to be monogamous to Pierre Bourdieu's Outline of a Theory of Practice, I finally tonight decided to be weak and succumb to Clifford Geertz's charms - and rereading "Thick Description" in The Interpretation of Cultures is so lovely. Sigh. Don't get me wrong - I have a big ole crush on Pierre and his activism in a smart way, but when it takes me an hour to get through 10 pages and barely understand - well, it's time for a boy on the side for me.

Today I was talking to a kid. He's a great kid, doing well in class, but he asked how long it would take to graduate - he needs like 185 credits more - he failed his first two years of high school and then dropped out last year. Um, hello?! If you don't have any credits, it takes you a long time to graduate?! And he's totally frustrated by that because he needs to work full-time to make the house payment because his mother is in prison.

And I don't know what to say. I tell him not to drop out, but is that really in his best interests? I mean, at least he's not drunk at school (he has hangovers on occasion).

Ugh. When did life get so complicated for kids? I know, it's always been that way - I was just shielded more.

I have this other kid who came just a few weeks ago, so he can't even get any credit for his work (you can only miss 8 days at my school, and he came on the 9th). He works his butt off - I have him for two classes - and he's cool. He's started teasing me, but the timing is a little off. And we're not tight, so I don't know the stories, but there are a gazillion in his family I can tell from looking at his school records - I'm guessing illegal immigration, prison time, homelessness, etc. He's never been in a school long enough to finish a class - he's I think 18 and only has 15 credits. You need 210 to graduate from a continuation high school, 225 from a regular one I think. But he won't graduate from high school, which limits his opportunities in a huge way.

I want to think that both those boys will be ok without high school diplomas, but I just want to keep them near me and protect them and make everything right in their worlds - and of course I can't even make class fun for them. (I'm a sucky teacher. I'm so boring, I hate showing up everyday to my class. I'm trying to just follow the curriculum this year, but it's so boring I'm ready to ditch 8 days and not get credit. The only thing I got going for me is I really do care about the kids, and they can tell.)

Back to Cliff. He da man.

newest taste treat

Trader Joe's candied pecans.

They are like heroin. So addictive, so sweet. Sigh.

ldr's

Long-distance relationships really, really suck.

I don't think I can keep doing it.

no scurvy for me!

OK, in the camp in Ghana, there are the tastiest mangoes and pineapples and papayas - mega-yum.

But there's something to be said for modern transport and life behind a Stater Bros.

Today's consumption:
watermelon and canteloupe
banana
2 kiwis
persimmon (thank you Jing!)
Texas orange (OK, Uluk is right - they ARE sweeter and less acidic than CA and FL)

Still to come:
grapes
blueberries
apple (yesterday tried an Ambrosia apple - YUM! - best ever!)

marathon dreams

All right. I know that last March 6, after completing the LA Marathon, I swore I would NEVER do such a thing again.

My friend Lawrence says, "Don't say 'never.' That word belongs to God." He uses that West African aphorism to scold me from foretelling the future.

And, he's right. Sometimes.

OK, I will not do the marathon in 2006 - it's too soon and I really do not have time.

BUT, what about 2007? And how about running it? Which means I need to get a better sports bra and lose some weight first (ugh, South Beach here I come again, ugh). I only went through one bottle of Ibuprofen and a lot of ice last time around - I can make that investment again. I don't think one marathon will cause permanent damage to my joints or kill me.

And if does kill me, that will save me from finishing my dissertation and entering the academic job search meat market. There are worse things to die before.

OK, Jenny, I know you're thinking, "What the hell sparked this lunacy?" It was Christina Aguilera on the MP3 player's marathon training playlist. I blame the blonde (is she still?) for a groovy walking pace beat.