True story:
Projects were due today in my Spanish 2 classes. I gave them this project last week. It's a super easy project where they talk about what they did and what they were like at ages two, five, nine, and fourteen. I gave them questions to guide their writing and gave them step-by-step instructions with due dates and a note to the seniors saying that their projects were due before their last day of classes.
Their rough drafts were due Friday, final projects were due today.
One of my students came to me today before her class started and said, "Miss, are our projects due today?"
"Yes they are," I said.
"Nuh-uh, you said they were due Friday."
"Take out your project sheet," I said.
"No, you said Friday!" she insisted, angrily this time.
"Take out your project sheet," I repeated.
Another student looked over and said, "It says the twenty-seventh. It's due today."
Not to be outdone, the first student looked furiously at her project sheet, and said, "Yeah, like I'm supposed to read this."
Actually, honey, you are.
Hello!
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
27 May 2010
19 March 2010
Quote of the Day
"Miss, do you put your clothes together yourself?"
Apparently, this is a compliment which should be taken to mean, "You dress well" and not, "You look like your mama dressed you".
Thanks, Y. I do, in fact, put my clothes together myself.
Apparently, this is a compliment which should be taken to mean, "You dress well" and not, "You look like your mama dressed you".
Thanks, Y. I do, in fact, put my clothes together myself.
11 March 2010
On the upside
Since I was such a whiner last week (and have been since, oh, November), I figured it was time for a little something more upbeat.
There's this: Today was one of those days when I was glad to be a teacher. The students were exceptionally funny, I got positive feedback from administrators and coworkers, and I was teaching material that I absolutely love.
This is not to say that today was a blissful day at my inner city high school, just that it was a good day. I don't know if it's that the weather is warming my students' cold little hearts, or that the right combination of students was present, or that I was just in a good mood because I was so in love with my outfit (seriously, nothing can go wrong when you're wearing yellow shoes), but something was working today.
I taught about written accent marks, which, seriously, are my passion. If I could just introduce everyone to accent marks and my little tricks for where they go for the rest of my life, I would be one happy little word nerd. But, alas, when you teach Spanish to Latinos as if you were teaching non-Spanish speakers Spanish, you don't get to spend weeks on accent marks.
So I settled for a single day and totally geeked out over accent marks. I shared all the great examples: está/esta, papá/papa, and - my personal favorite - mamá/mama. I advised my students to show their mothers some respect and give them an accent mark, which got quite a laugh. I enjoyed it today.
Teaching is often a thankless job. You get blamed for everything that's wrong with education even though you're being forced to do more with fewer resources every day. It's my fault when the students don't do their homework or projects. It's my fault when they don't pass standardized tests. It's my fault when they're disrespectful (because in an hour a day, I should be able to what the parents haven't done in sixteen years). I'm an entertainer, a secretary, a disciplinarian, a counselor, and a surrogate parent. Oh, and an educator. That, too.
I loved every minute of teaching back at G-F. My department was amazing, my students were sweet or at least entertaining, and I was teaching a subject about which I am passionate. This year has often been a struggle. I'm teaching Spanish 1 and 2 and my classes are so mixed as far as level and ability that I'm actually teaching two or three classes at a time. I don't feel as connected to my department or to my students. I've struggled to love it.
But today, through the complaints, I felt something. Connection, perhaps. The easy banter I've got going on with my students, the gentle teasing (Twenty-seven, Miss?! ¡Abuela!), the flashes of understanding, the visits after class.... Yes. It's taken me just over six months, but it's happening.
And that's why I do what I do. Yes, I think it's important for folks to be multilingual, but that's not why I do this. Yes, I'm passionate about reconnecting Latino youth to the language of their parents and grandparents, but that's not why I do this. Yes, I get my "Spanish geek" on when I talk about grammar and orthography, but that's not why I do this, either. It's those moments when there's a human connection across generations, when two people standing in vastly different places in their journeys can look across at each other and see something familiar.
Today I felt that.
I joked with the student that had been such a challenge earlier this year - a student whose reputation precedes him - and thought, "This kid knows I care whether he makes it out or not. He knows I think he's talented and intelligent. He knows I make him do work that is more difficult than the work the rest of the class does AND HE DOES IT PROUDLY."
I tutored one of my students after school. She complained that the work was difficult, and we worked together for a while. She was dramatic as always, and I teased her a little about it, which caused her to crack up and say, "Miss, how are you in the world? You are too funny for the WORLD! You make me crack up!" And I thought, "Where else would I hear little bits of brilliance like that?"
People are such strange, fascinating, curious creatures. Our connections are so vitally important, so influential. I think it's been really hard for me to see them this school year. Maybe I was expecting this to be the utopian paradise that G-F was (I kid!), but it wasn't and I have been discouraged.
But today? Today I saw those connections, and I am content.
There's this: Today was one of those days when I was glad to be a teacher. The students were exceptionally funny, I got positive feedback from administrators and coworkers, and I was teaching material that I absolutely love.
This is not to say that today was a blissful day at my inner city high school, just that it was a good day. I don't know if it's that the weather is warming my students' cold little hearts, or that the right combination of students was present, or that I was just in a good mood because I was so in love with my outfit (seriously, nothing can go wrong when you're wearing yellow shoes), but something was working today.
I taught about written accent marks, which, seriously, are my passion. If I could just introduce everyone to accent marks and my little tricks for where they go for the rest of my life, I would be one happy little word nerd. But, alas, when you teach Spanish to Latinos as if you were teaching non-Spanish speakers Spanish, you don't get to spend weeks on accent marks.
So I settled for a single day and totally geeked out over accent marks. I shared all the great examples: está/esta, papá/papa, and - my personal favorite - mamá/mama. I advised my students to show their mothers some respect and give them an accent mark, which got quite a laugh. I enjoyed it today.
Teaching is often a thankless job. You get blamed for everything that's wrong with education even though you're being forced to do more with fewer resources every day. It's my fault when the students don't do their homework or projects. It's my fault when they don't pass standardized tests. It's my fault when they're disrespectful (because in an hour a day, I should be able to what the parents haven't done in sixteen years). I'm an entertainer, a secretary, a disciplinarian, a counselor, and a surrogate parent. Oh, and an educator. That, too.
I loved every minute of teaching back at G-F. My department was amazing, my students were sweet or at least entertaining, and I was teaching a subject about which I am passionate. This year has often been a struggle. I'm teaching Spanish 1 and 2 and my classes are so mixed as far as level and ability that I'm actually teaching two or three classes at a time. I don't feel as connected to my department or to my students. I've struggled to love it.
But today, through the complaints, I felt something. Connection, perhaps. The easy banter I've got going on with my students, the gentle teasing (Twenty-seven, Miss?! ¡Abuela!), the flashes of understanding, the visits after class.... Yes. It's taken me just over six months, but it's happening.
And that's why I do what I do. Yes, I think it's important for folks to be multilingual, but that's not why I do this. Yes, I'm passionate about reconnecting Latino youth to the language of their parents and grandparents, but that's not why I do this. Yes, I get my "Spanish geek" on when I talk about grammar and orthography, but that's not why I do this, either. It's those moments when there's a human connection across generations, when two people standing in vastly different places in their journeys can look across at each other and see something familiar.
Today I felt that.
I joked with the student that had been such a challenge earlier this year - a student whose reputation precedes him - and thought, "This kid knows I care whether he makes it out or not. He knows I think he's talented and intelligent. He knows I make him do work that is more difficult than the work the rest of the class does AND HE DOES IT PROUDLY."
I tutored one of my students after school. She complained that the work was difficult, and we worked together for a while. She was dramatic as always, and I teased her a little about it, which caused her to crack up and say, "Miss, how are you in the world? You are too funny for the WORLD! You make me crack up!" And I thought, "Where else would I hear little bits of brilliance like that?"
People are such strange, fascinating, curious creatures. Our connections are so vitally important, so influential. I think it's been really hard for me to see them this school year. Maybe I was expecting this to be the utopian paradise that G-F was (I kid!), but it wasn't and I have been discouraged.
But today? Today I saw those connections, and I am content.
01 December 2009
Line
They're talking about salsa and merengue, the songs the "old heads" like, the ones that get them out on the dance floor.
"You know she be jammin' to that in her car, when she's cleaning on Saturdays, with the mapo"
"She's from Puerto Rico; she's a hick. So you know she does."
And there it is, the line is drawn, the us-them divide, the island-mainland divide. To these kids - second, third, fourth generation Philly Ricans - I am the island. I was born in Puerto Rico, I eat the food, listen to the music, believe in the language.
But on the island? On the island, I'm so mainland. Shoes too casual, hair too wild, speaking English much too easily.
The familiarity of the push and pull invades. It's all in lighthearted fun, but my heart aches for the homeland I've lost, for the land which will never really be my own. And my heart aches also for the tightrope, for its existence, and for those who live on it - men and women like me who are neither here nor there.
But here's the thing: lately my heart aches most for those who live on either side of that divide, those who are safely island, safely mainland, because they will never know the sweetness of Spanglish - true Spanglish - on the tongue. They will never know the relief of return on both ends of the flight that links the two places. Those on the island will never know the way it feels to wake up in the morning aching for the tropical heat and salty air, la nostalgia aguda que forma el carácter e inspira el corazón. Those on the mainland will never know what it feels like to live in perpetual summer, to live as part of a unit instead of wandering alone; nunca reconocerán el destino y la mano de Dios de la misma manera que la vemos los de la isla.
So I'm a hick - the island Puerto Rican - and at the same time I'm la americana.
And today, looking at my students, pondering the unique situation of the third generation of Brown folks, I felt grateful for my place on the tightrope.
And they're right: I do jam to some salsa in my car.
"You know she be jammin' to that in her car, when she's cleaning on Saturdays, with the mapo"
"She's from Puerto Rico; she's a hick. So you know she does."
And there it is, the line is drawn, the us-them divide, the island-mainland divide. To these kids - second, third, fourth generation Philly Ricans - I am the island. I was born in Puerto Rico, I eat the food, listen to the music, believe in the language.
But on the island? On the island, I'm so mainland. Shoes too casual, hair too wild, speaking English much too easily.
The familiarity of the push and pull invades. It's all in lighthearted fun, but my heart aches for the homeland I've lost, for the land which will never really be my own. And my heart aches also for the tightrope, for its existence, and for those who live on it - men and women like me who are neither here nor there.
But here's the thing: lately my heart aches most for those who live on either side of that divide, those who are safely island, safely mainland, because they will never know the sweetness of Spanglish - true Spanglish - on the tongue. They will never know the relief of return on both ends of the flight that links the two places. Those on the island will never know the way it feels to wake up in the morning aching for the tropical heat and salty air, la nostalgia aguda que forma el carácter e inspira el corazón. Those on the mainland will never know what it feels like to live in perpetual summer, to live as part of a unit instead of wandering alone; nunca reconocerán el destino y la mano de Dios de la misma manera que la vemos los de la isla.
So I'm a hick - the island Puerto Rican - and at the same time I'm la americana.
And today, looking at my students, pondering the unique situation of the third generation of Brown folks, I felt grateful for my place on the tightrope.
And they're right: I do jam to some salsa in my car.
18 November 2009
Quotable
I've been meaning to post something like this for a while, but I haven't gotten around to it until now.
My students are hilarious. Sometimes on purpose, and sometimes unintentionally, and they give me enough fodder to tell stories for days and days, so here are some of my favorite student quotes from this year.
1. L. (after wiping black marker off a white board with her hands): I'm all black.
B. (an African-American student): It's a privilege.
2. E.: Miss, you too serious. Do you have any friends?
Me (sarcastically and dramatically): No. None at all.
E.: Do you have any pets?
Me (Still dramatic and sarcastic): Nope.
E.: Do you have a husband?
Me (Even more dramatically): Nope. I go home and I don't talk at all until I come to work the next day.
Y. (looking concerned): For REAL Miss?!
3. While working on an example of a poem that they would have to write in class -
Me: What's something I might do over the summer?
Student: Swim!
Student: Go outside!
L.: Sell hotdogs!
Whaaaaaaa?!
4. C.: Miss, do you talk about us when you go home? Do you tell stories about us?
Yes, kiddies. I tell the Internet.
5. The day of parent-teacher conferences - J: Miss, my dad is coming; he's going to hit on you. (For the record, he did, but at least I was prepared! I flashed my ring like crazy.)
6. K.: Miss, you look nice today.
Me: I'm always scared when students tell me that. Does that mean that I don't look nice most days?
K.: Naw, Miss. You know how to dress; some teachers don't.
On a related note, I had parent-teacher conferences last night, and parents are funny, too:
1. Me: S. is doing really well; he has an A, but he talks a lot in class, and I had to give him two days of detention because he was disrupting class.
S. Sr.: I thought he had detention; he told me he was cleaning for community service hours.
So busted!
2. Me: C. has brought his grade up from an F to a C. He's been coming in for tutoring and is working really hard. I'm really proud of him.
C.'s mom: Me too. He's getting a milkshake!
The best part, though, was the mom who told me that her daughter hated speaking Spanish before my class and now she goes home and wants them to speak to her in Spanish. "She wants to send texts in Spanish and she watches movies in Spanish with her dad." I will not lie, I teared up.
My students are hilarious. Sometimes on purpose, and sometimes unintentionally, and they give me enough fodder to tell stories for days and days, so here are some of my favorite student quotes from this year.
1. L. (after wiping black marker off a white board with her hands): I'm all black.
B. (an African-American student): It's a privilege.
2. E.: Miss, you too serious. Do you have any friends?
Me (sarcastically and dramatically): No. None at all.
E.: Do you have any pets?
Me (Still dramatic and sarcastic): Nope.
E.: Do you have a husband?
Me (Even more dramatically): Nope. I go home and I don't talk at all until I come to work the next day.
Y. (looking concerned): For REAL Miss?!
3. While working on an example of a poem that they would have to write in class -
Me: What's something I might do over the summer?
Student: Swim!
Student: Go outside!
L.: Sell hotdogs!
Whaaaaaaa?!
4. C.: Miss, do you talk about us when you go home? Do you tell stories about us?
Yes, kiddies. I tell the Internet.
5. The day of parent-teacher conferences - J: Miss, my dad is coming; he's going to hit on you. (For the record, he did, but at least I was prepared! I flashed my ring like crazy.)
6. K.: Miss, you look nice today.
Me: I'm always scared when students tell me that. Does that mean that I don't look nice most days?
K.: Naw, Miss. You know how to dress; some teachers don't.
On a related note, I had parent-teacher conferences last night, and parents are funny, too:
1. Me: S. is doing really well; he has an A, but he talks a lot in class, and I had to give him two days of detention because he was disrupting class.
S. Sr.: I thought he had detention; he told me he was cleaning for community service hours.
So busted!
2. Me: C. has brought his grade up from an F to a C. He's been coming in for tutoring and is working really hard. I'm really proud of him.
C.'s mom: Me too. He's getting a milkshake!
The best part, though, was the mom who told me that her daughter hated speaking Spanish before my class and now she goes home and wants them to speak to her in Spanish. "She wants to send texts in Spanish and she watches movies in Spanish with her dad." I will not lie, I teared up.
06 July 2009
She emerges...
This girl is thisclose to being a MASTER. No more sitting in classes for me.
That, of course, is why I've been pretty much absent since early June - Summer I will do that to a girl.
But I've emerged with one more project to do just in time to spend three glorious weeks in Puerto Rico. Love!
I'm trying not to worry too much about anything - about the job situation (or lack thereof), about the housing situation (or lack thereof), about saying goodbye to people with whom I've spent so much time for the past year. Bittersweet.
In the meantime, I'm packing, heading to the Shore, celebrating the fourth just to be with people, and remembering.
This year has gone by so fast. So, so fast. All those days and nights of reading and writing and preparing presentations have slipped away. The days I thought I wouldn't make it - well, I've made it.
And soon there will be time to write, to think about what comes next, to worry about the way my life will play out after all that I've learned and experienced this year. Good times, hard times, challenges.... For now, though, Puerto Rico awaits.
I'll be back the 27th - catch ya on the flip side.
That, of course, is why I've been pretty much absent since early June - Summer I will do that to a girl.
But I've emerged with one more project to do just in time to spend three glorious weeks in Puerto Rico. Love!
I'm trying not to worry too much about anything - about the job situation (or lack thereof), about the housing situation (or lack thereof), about saying goodbye to people with whom I've spent so much time for the past year. Bittersweet.
In the meantime, I'm packing, heading to the Shore, celebrating the fourth just to be with people, and remembering.
This year has gone by so fast. So, so fast. All those days and nights of reading and writing and preparing presentations have slipped away. The days I thought I wouldn't make it - well, I've made it.
And soon there will be time to write, to think about what comes next, to worry about the way my life will play out after all that I've learned and experienced this year. Good times, hard times, challenges.... For now, though, Puerto Rico awaits.
I'll be back the 27th - catch ya on the flip side.
28 April 2009
The kiddies
I volunteer twice a week in a fourth grade class and tutor two girls on Tuesday evenings and lately I've been wishing I had a tape recorder with me to document all the craziness they say. A few gems from this week:
1. D: Miss, you got a daughter?
Me: No.
D: You got a son?
Me: Nope.
D: You don't got anything?!
Me: Nope.
D: (Looks at me like I have grown a second head and says with some degree of disappointment) Miss, I heard you were twenty-five!
Me: I'm actually twenty-six.
At this point, she just looked at me again and shook her head. In other words: What is wrong with you, woman? Go pop out some babies!
2. The teacher explains how to use "I" and "me" correctly, and then mentions that there is a character on Sesame Street who always uses "I" and "me" incorrectly. She asks the students to guess who it is.
The students correctly guess that it's Cookie Monster, and then proceed to talk about some of the different characters. One of the boys looks around at his classmates and says: "Are we really discussing Sesame Street?"
I mean, really. Fourth grade is so far from the days of discussing Sesame Street.
3. With the girls I tutor:
M: Do you ever talk to imaginary friends when you're bored?
Me: (Pick my jaw up from the floor) Um, no. Maybe when I was little, but not in a long, long time. Do you?
M: Yep.
For the record, I don't remember ever having an imaginary friend, and I don't think my mom has ever said anything about me having one, I just had a feeling she needed to know it was okay if she did. Also, her sister, J. asked what her imaginary friend's name was and M. said she didn't know.
Mad props to J. for being a supportive older sister; I would've teased C. mercilessly.
1. D: Miss, you got a daughter?
Me: No.
D: You got a son?
Me: Nope.
D: You don't got anything?!
Me: Nope.
D: (Looks at me like I have grown a second head and says with some degree of disappointment) Miss, I heard you were twenty-five!
Me: I'm actually twenty-six.
At this point, she just looked at me again and shook her head. In other words: What is wrong with you, woman? Go pop out some babies!
2. The teacher explains how to use "I" and "me" correctly, and then mentions that there is a character on Sesame Street who always uses "I" and "me" incorrectly. She asks the students to guess who it is.
The students correctly guess that it's Cookie Monster, and then proceed to talk about some of the different characters. One of the boys looks around at his classmates and says: "Are we really discussing Sesame Street?"
I mean, really. Fourth grade is so far from the days of discussing Sesame Street.
3. With the girls I tutor:
M: Do you ever talk to imaginary friends when you're bored?
Me: (Pick my jaw up from the floor) Um, no. Maybe when I was little, but not in a long, long time. Do you?
M: Yep.
For the record, I don't remember ever having an imaginary friend, and I don't think my mom has ever said anything about me having one, I just had a feeling she needed to know it was okay if she did. Also, her sister, J. asked what her imaginary friend's name was and M. said she didn't know.
Mad props to J. for being a supportive older sister; I would've teased C. mercilessly.
25 April 2009
Today
To do:
1. Laundry
2. Urban Econ paper, O.M.G!
3. Study guide for Urban Econ exam
4. Clean my room
5. Pick up books from the library
6. Deposit check
7. Walk in the beautiful sunshine
I've done two of the above, numbers five and six, of course. I've started on number one, and am thinking about number seven, but two and three really, really, REALLY need to get done. Today.
Why is it that when I really have to write a paper I fall asleep at my computer, feel an overwhelming need to clean, suddenly remember that I'll need a job in two months and I should start searching, or think of all the people I haven't talked to in a long time that I really want to catch up with?
I'm currently fighting the urge to nap or reorganize my closet and put away winter clothes. Because, seriously? Not as pressing as FAILING OUT OF GRAD SCHOOL BECAUSE I COULDN'T GET MY ACT TOGETHER LONG ENOUGH TO WRITE MY STINKIN' PAPER!
Back to work... I hope.
1. Laundry
2. Urban Econ paper, O.M.G!
3. Study guide for Urban Econ exam
4. Clean my room
5. Pick up books from the library
6. Deposit check
7. Walk in the beautiful sunshine
I've done two of the above, numbers five and six, of course. I've started on number one, and am thinking about number seven, but two and three really, really, REALLY need to get done. Today.
Why is it that when I really have to write a paper I fall asleep at my computer, feel an overwhelming need to clean, suddenly remember that I'll need a job in two months and I should start searching, or think of all the people I haven't talked to in a long time that I really want to catch up with?
I'm currently fighting the urge to nap or reorganize my closet and put away winter clothes. Because, seriously? Not as pressing as FAILING OUT OF GRAD SCHOOL BECAUSE I COULDN'T GET MY ACT TOGETHER LONG ENOUGH TO WRITE MY STINKIN' PAPER!
Back to work... I hope.
21 April 2009
She's got a point.....
Today I went into the school where I usually volunteer with the fourth graders. They were testing, so I helped out with second grade. I walked around the room as the kids worked on their penmanship and overheard this little bit of genius:
Boy 1: I wish I had a time machine. I'd go back in time.
Boy 2: Back in time?
Boy 1: Yeah, to like a hundred years ago!
Girl: That's dumb. How would you get back? They didn't have electricity a hundred years ago. What would you do with your machine?
I have to admit that I have never ONCE in my life thought about that as I've dreamed of hopping in a time-machine and hanging out in 1920s Chicago speakesies or 1600s Puerto Rico. Girl had a point - it'd be mighty hard to power up a time machine in 1600s Puerto Rico.
The thing that struck me about their conversation, though, besides the obvious hilarity of the exchange, is that they cannot conceive of a world without electricity. Frankly, neither can I. Don't get me wrong, I've spent some time in developing nations where blackouts are a way of life, but that's just part of the experience, it is NOT my day-in-day-out. These kids have never lived in a world without internet and cell phones. I still remember being one of the only kids in school with a computer at home. I remember listening to RECORDS on a Big Bird record player! I remember when cordless phones came out.
Oh, technology. I can't even dream about going back in time anymore because of my complete and utter dependence on you....
Dang, I'm old.
Boy 1: I wish I had a time machine. I'd go back in time.
Boy 2: Back in time?
Boy 1: Yeah, to like a hundred years ago!
Girl: That's dumb. How would you get back? They didn't have electricity a hundred years ago. What would you do with your machine?
I have to admit that I have never ONCE in my life thought about that as I've dreamed of hopping in a time-machine and hanging out in 1920s Chicago speakesies or 1600s Puerto Rico. Girl had a point - it'd be mighty hard to power up a time machine in 1600s Puerto Rico.
The thing that struck me about their conversation, though, besides the obvious hilarity of the exchange, is that they cannot conceive of a world without electricity. Frankly, neither can I. Don't get me wrong, I've spent some time in developing nations where blackouts are a way of life, but that's just part of the experience, it is NOT my day-in-day-out. These kids have never lived in a world without internet and cell phones. I still remember being one of the only kids in school with a computer at home. I remember listening to RECORDS on a Big Bird record player! I remember when cordless phones came out.
Oh, technology. I can't even dream about going back in time anymore because of my complete and utter dependence on you....
Dang, I'm old.
14 April 2009
Reflection on my complete and utter exhaustion
Suspiro.
Respiro.
El corazón me pesa.
Duele respirar.
Lo que más quiero es dormir
para apaciguar este cansancio interminable.
Pero el sueño no lo calma
y esa pesadez persiste.
Suspiro.
Respiro.
Siento que el aire no pasa,
que en vez de sostenerme, me
atraganta.
Otro día más del jueguito,
del -sí señor,
de comprometer mi esencia de ser.
Suspiro.
Respiro.
Un aire contaminado
por los pecados del pueblo:
mi pueblo, el pueblo que me
ha rechazado, de los pueblos
que existen en proximidad
pero no en unidad.
Suspiro.
Respiro.
Esperando el día que esto se aclare,
que ya no me duela,
que no me canse
el respirar.
Respiro.
Suspiro.
El día aún no ha llegado.
Respiro.
El corazón me pesa.
Duele respirar.
Lo que más quiero es dormir
para apaciguar este cansancio interminable.
Pero el sueño no lo calma
y esa pesadez persiste.
Suspiro.
Respiro.
Siento que el aire no pasa,
que en vez de sostenerme, me
atraganta.
Otro día más del jueguito,
del -sí señor,
de comprometer mi esencia de ser.
Suspiro.
Respiro.
Un aire contaminado
por los pecados del pueblo:
mi pueblo, el pueblo que me
ha rechazado, de los pueblos
que existen en proximidad
pero no en unidad.
Suspiro.
Respiro.
Esperando el día que esto se aclare,
que ya no me duela,
que no me canse
el respirar.
Respiro.
Suspiro.
El día aún no ha llegado.
07 October 2008
Random
I wish my eyes worked better than they do. As I write, I'm squinting at the screen and soon I will be squinting at my books, still fighting this headache that has come on because I. Can't. See.
Ugh, my eyes!
Hold up, pass me my glasses....
Ugh, my eyes!
Hold up, pass me my glasses....
22 September 2008
My brain is fried
So I was doing a little preliminary research on the topic I want to pursue for my Urban Politics midterm - the role of Latinos in Philadelphia politics - but I'm having a hard time finding some real data. I mean, in a city that was 8.5% Latino almost 9 years ago (we all know that's gone up) I find it hard to believe that there isn't more information about mobilizing the Latino community (about 75% Puerto Rican, so don't give me the "they can't vote" argument!) to take political action. Hmmm... Just makes me think, is all. I think I'll find info, it'll just take a bit of legwork, and it's a topic I'm interested in, so I'll do what I have to do.
In lighter news, I was sitting here, calmly looking for information, when I felt something tickling my arm. I looked down and there was this huge brown spider just crawling along. I don't normally have a problem with spiders, but I do have an issue with them invading my personal space, and my skin is definitely my personal space. I swept it off, and it fell to the floor, and now I'm a little creeped out by this bold little arachnid just crawlin' around. I don't want to swallow it in my sleep....
In lighter news, I was sitting here, calmly looking for information, when I felt something tickling my arm. I looked down and there was this huge brown spider just crawling along. I don't normally have a problem with spiders, but I do have an issue with them invading my personal space, and my skin is definitely my personal space. I swept it off, and it fell to the floor, and now I'm a little creeped out by this bold little arachnid just crawlin' around. I don't want to swallow it in my sleep....
11 September 2008
questions
I've been listening to Alison Krauss obsessively the past couple of days. Her voice is unbelievable, even if you aren't a country fan, listen. It's not too twangy, I promise.
There's this song:
The lines that I was most struck by:
This is pretty much how I'm feeling at this point in my grad school journey. I feel like everything I came in knowing has become a bigger question, and that's not a bad thing. I've been doing the same thing for the past three years, and now there's this. I thought I knew just what I wanted, but I want more, I want better, I want a greater challenge. And I'm getting it.
This is the opposite of the comfort of home, G-F, and family. Which is not to say that I'm miserably uncomfortable, just that I'm stretching, and that's a good thing. I'm finding so much. So many questions, so many dreams, and so many surprises....
Good surprises.
I'm taking this for what it's worth, and feeling my way through it the way I do. I don't want to say too much, or speak too soon, but I didn't think it was possible to -be so happy in this uncertainty and change. It's good-good.
Anyway, Alison Kraus....
There's this song:
The lines that I was most struck by:
And all the answers that I started with
Turned out questions in the end
This is pretty much how I'm feeling at this point in my grad school journey. I feel like everything I came in knowing has become a bigger question, and that's not a bad thing. I've been doing the same thing for the past three years, and now there's this. I thought I knew just what I wanted, but I want more, I want better, I want a greater challenge. And I'm getting it.
This is the opposite of the comfort of home, G-F, and family. Which is not to say that I'm miserably uncomfortable, just that I'm stretching, and that's a good thing. I'm finding so much. So many questions, so many dreams, and so many surprises....
Good surprises.
I'm taking this for what it's worth, and feeling my way through it the way I do. I don't want to say too much, or speak too soon, but I didn't think it was possible to -be so happy in this uncertainty and change. It's good-good.
Anyway, Alison Kraus....
You keep a-lookin' into that mirror.
But to me you're lookin' really fine.
10 September 2008
Highlights
Last night I was sprawled out on the floor, reading, armed with my books, a green highlighter and a pen. I'm such a good student. I totally fell asleep on my book, with the highlighter uncapped, and marking a big circle in the middle of the page in chapter eight. When I woke up, I simply capped the highlighter, and rolled over so I could go back to sleep. When I really woke up, I got in bed.
Now I have a big green spot in the middle of chapter eight of "The Community in Urban Society" by Larry Lyon that bleeds straight through to chapter ten.
Now I have a big green spot in the middle of chapter eight of "The Community in Urban Society" by Larry Lyon that bleeds straight through to chapter ten.
26 August 2008
Fresh
Brothers, pray for us.
1 Thess. 5:25
I've been in orientation the past two days. And by that, I mean we had one day of nearly twelve hours of information, and one day that involved a campus tour and a picnic with box lunches from The freakin' Corner Bakery. Basically, we've been treated insanely well.
I've met everyone in the program, and I'm so excited for what's going to come out of this year. There are very few of us doing the urban track, but there is some overlap with the international group. I still can't get over the incredible diversity of our group as far as life experiences, backgrounds, interests, but there is this common thread of passion for service in God's Kingdom. It's the first time I've been outside a (strictly) Mission Year group and felt like so many of the people GOT what drives me. Teach Overseas was close, but this is that step beyond. It's an organization more in line with what I see myself doing in the future: this cobbling together of all the things that I love in order to serve. I want to be someone who empowers men and women and kids to do the impossible, to do what they have never dreamed they could do, simply because God has done that for me.
But it's going to be an intense year, and I have given up a lot of my comforts and a lot of my preferences to do this great unknown thing. I have no job, scant savings, these enormous student loans, and a car that makes it up hills at speeds above thirty miles an hour only by the grace of God. We were put in small groups yesterday to do a little Bible study on Psalm 84, and it really hit me. Get beyond easy worship songs that we sing without thinking. This Psalm is about wanting to journey to God's temple. It's about not quite being there, or not being able to go, but longing for that rest and that security. It's about trusting and leaving a trail of blessings as you set out for the goal. Verse twelve really got to me:
This is what I feel like I'm doing. I've left the comforts of home, of the wonderful NOVA area (at once Southern and not, in all the best ways), of familiarity, and have thrown myself at this with a thousand unanswered or unanswerable questions because I know with everything in me that this is where God wants me. And I can already see what He's doing for me. I needed this. Needed something JUST LIKE THIS to get me through what might have been one of the driest years of my life.
There's this:
Persistance, trust, faith.
And I'm working on all three.
1 Thess. 5:25
I've been in orientation the past two days. And by that, I mean we had one day of nearly twelve hours of information, and one day that involved a campus tour and a picnic with box lunches from The freakin' Corner Bakery. Basically, we've been treated insanely well.
I've met everyone in the program, and I'm so excited for what's going to come out of this year. There are very few of us doing the urban track, but there is some overlap with the international group. I still can't get over the incredible diversity of our group as far as life experiences, backgrounds, interests, but there is this common thread of passion for service in God's Kingdom. It's the first time I've been outside a (strictly) Mission Year group and felt like so many of the people GOT what drives me. Teach Overseas was close, but this is that step beyond. It's an organization more in line with what I see myself doing in the future: this cobbling together of all the things that I love in order to serve. I want to be someone who empowers men and women and kids to do the impossible, to do what they have never dreamed they could do, simply because God has done that for me.
But it's going to be an intense year, and I have given up a lot of my comforts and a lot of my preferences to do this great unknown thing. I have no job, scant savings, these enormous student loans, and a car that makes it up hills at speeds above thirty miles an hour only by the grace of God. We were put in small groups yesterday to do a little Bible study on Psalm 84, and it really hit me. Get beyond easy worship songs that we sing without thinking. This Psalm is about wanting to journey to God's temple. It's about not quite being there, or not being able to go, but longing for that rest and that security. It's about trusting and leaving a trail of blessings as you set out for the goal. Verse twelve really got to me:
"O LORD of hosts, blessed is the man who trusts in You!"
This is what I feel like I'm doing. I've left the comforts of home, of the wonderful NOVA area (at once Southern and not, in all the best ways), of familiarity, and have thrown myself at this with a thousand unanswered or unanswerable questions because I know with everything in me that this is where God wants me. And I can already see what He's doing for me. I needed this. Needed something JUST LIKE THIS to get me through what might have been one of the driest years of my life.
There's this:
Persistance, trust, faith.
And I'm working on all three.
24 August 2008
20 July 2008
Más vale vivir llorando que morir sin saber cuanto
Mujer de 26 años (Hey! That's me!) by Tony Croatto and Fiel a la Vega
Love that song, the bittersweetness of settling for stability and the pang of regret all those years later and the determination to let her daughter live without all the pressures of el qué dirán. It's so Latin.... My parents are old-school Puerto Rican, and that qué dirán is such a huge deal in the family, that I can totally identify with the woman in the song.
A little clarification for non-Spanish speakers: el qué dirán is the fear of what others will say about the decisions we make and the things that we do. We live public lives, us Latinos, and that fear is a huge part of traditional Latino culture - it was one of the recurring themes in all of the texts we read in A2....
Anyway, on a different note, I have a place to live and roommate for next year. J and I secured a cute little apartment five minutes from Eastern which I'm excited about. We even have a front porch! I heart porches. I'm a little (ha!) worried about money, but I'm trusting God to provide for me.
I went to ICC last night and saw a lot of the folks from the retreat. I really enjoy spending time there, even though I am pretty much the only one who's not Korean.
Well, as long as I'm up so early, I should get my booty in gear and work out. I've been so laaaaaazy this summer!
Love that song, the bittersweetness of settling for stability and the pang of regret all those years later and the determination to let her daughter live without all the pressures of el qué dirán. It's so Latin.... My parents are old-school Puerto Rican, and that qué dirán is such a huge deal in the family, that I can totally identify with the woman in the song.
A little clarification for non-Spanish speakers: el qué dirán is the fear of what others will say about the decisions we make and the things that we do. We live public lives, us Latinos, and that fear is a huge part of traditional Latino culture - it was one of the recurring themes in all of the texts we read in A2....
Anyway, on a different note, I have a place to live and roommate for next year. J and I secured a cute little apartment five minutes from Eastern which I'm excited about. We even have a front porch! I heart porches. I'm a little (ha!) worried about money, but I'm trusting God to provide for me.
I went to ICC last night and saw a lot of the folks from the retreat. I really enjoy spending time there, even though I am pretty much the only one who's not Korean.
Well, as long as I'm up so early, I should get my booty in gear and work out. I've been so laaaaaazy this summer!
10 June 2008
In the meantime
Once finals are over, my classroom is cleaned, and grades are turned in, I promise a substantial update. One that includes Obama pics and pics of the kids that made my life either so sweet or bloody hell for the past three years and possibly a C. wedding update.
Until then, there's this from my boy E. from fourth block - all grammatical and orthographic errors are copied from the original with an occasional note for clarity:
FYI: Víctor Manuelle is my favorite salsero. E. went on to call me "Mrs. Manuelle" (they don't realize it's his middle name and not his last name, but that's okay) and to say that I am the "BEST TEACHER I'VE EVER HAD".
It makes my heart swell.
Okay, I have placement exams and final exams to grade. PEACE!
Back to hiding....
Until then, there's this from my boy E. from fourth block - all grammatical and orthographic errors are copied from the original with an occasional note for clarity:
Los días, los meses, los años han pasado con gozo
Las memorias vívidas de los años
han volado en mi mente como las cenizas del
fuego de ayer.
las sonrisas, y el gozo que pasé nunca
los voy a olvidar amiga mía. Todas estas
memorias de gracia las voy a marrar [a amarrar] en el profundo
de mi corazón, como un niño amarra el globo
a la mano para que el globo nunca vuela
de su alcance. asi marraré [amarraré] las memorias amiga
querida.
Si por razón vuelas fuera del alcance, del niño
mandaré una paloma de mis recuerdos.
Si la palamo no llega a lo destinado,
mandaré un pez de mis recuerdos,
si el pez no llega a lo destinado
mandaré a .... Victor Manuelle con
los recuerdos. :)
FYI: Víctor Manuelle is my favorite salsero. E. went on to call me "Mrs. Manuelle" (they don't realize it's his middle name and not his last name, but that's okay) and to say that I am the "BEST TEACHER I'VE EVER HAD".
It makes my heart swell.
Okay, I have placement exams and final exams to grade. PEACE!
Back to hiding....
04 June 2008
Happy Birthday!
I love my job. I really, really do.
I got to work today and as soon as I got to the planning office, I noticed roses (Colombian roses of death, but it's the thought that counts) on the table. S. informed me that one of my students - "a really pretty little girl with olive skin" - had dropped them off for me and that they'd also brought ice cream cake. I.C. dropped off some cupcakes, A.A. brought chocolates, my girl, A. brought me a gift and a card that brought tears to my eyes. I.D. brought me the kind of mildly inappropriate card that only she could bring, 1st block signed a card for me, and A.R. gave me his soccer t-shirt. As I was leaving work, my heart was full - I have some truly amazing students, not to mention that my coworkers brought three kinds of cake to choose from.
So anyway, I had to leave work relatively early (before 3! It's a miracle!) to make it to the DC United game, and as I was walking across the parking lot, I noticed four cake-shaped balloons stuck to my car. I stopped in my tracks and looked again: no, really, it was my car. I hurried over, saw the card taped to the window, the ribbons decorating it, and the "Happy Birthday" sign on the windshield. W., E., and J. had decorated my car for me and written me a little card. I remembered how I'd gotten on J. for being in the bathroom so long (I asked if he'd fallen into the toilet) and realized that he must've been out there working on that....
No sé, pero me impactó tanto que hubieran hecho eso que lloré. I seriously cried because it really touched me that they'd do something like that.
I sat in the card and thought, "THIS is what I'll miss." My hero, Mr. Barber, always used to tell us that life was all about RELATIONSHIPS. And he'd kind of bounce around as he said that word, like it was all there was to know. Relationship with God, with Christ, with one another, with people in need.... I have that at work. I have these RELATIONSHIPS, these connections. These are kids that I've invested in, that I've lost sleep for, that I've prayed for. I have felt like those moments in the classroom, after school, during passing periods have been this incredible ministry for me. And I mean that not in the preachy, overtly Evangelical sense, but rather in a way that has given so many of these kids a sense of their worth. I like to think that I gave them a reason to be proud of their heritage, of their other language, of their brown skin, of their accents.... I hope I've given them a reason to fight for what they want and some tools to do so. I hope I gave them someone with whom they could identify: young, brown, bi-cultural, bilingual, and successful.
I was reading the A2's exams and many of them (I'd had them for three years) thanked me for specific things. I was so proud reading W.'s essays: she still has a lot of errors, but there were complete sentences without a single word in English. I could just picture her working and working to get things right.... S. said something about how she learned so much about her own culture because of our class....
J. gave me an article awhile back about the lack of male African-American teachers in schools and the impact that has on African-American students. It was an interesting read, and I could see how some of these same issues translated across ethnic lines. There's a real need for minority teachers, and if they're male, so much the better. These kids are hungry for someone to tell them their own story, to give their lives academic validity, to tell them that someone like them can also make it. I've seen and heard so much from educators - good people who mean well but don't understand - we need teachers who will fight for and defend these kids, who will give a voice to the voiceless.
This took a turn that I hadn't been expecting, but I guess it's what I needed to say today. Do I think I'll go back to education? Someday. In a different capacity, perhaps, or maybe back in the classroom. Sólo Dios sabe. But I am grateful - beyond grateful - for these past three years.
I got to work today and as soon as I got to the planning office, I noticed roses (Colombian roses of death, but it's the thought that counts) on the table. S. informed me that one of my students - "a really pretty little girl with olive skin" - had dropped them off for me and that they'd also brought ice cream cake. I.C. dropped off some cupcakes, A.A. brought chocolates, my girl, A. brought me a gift and a card that brought tears to my eyes. I.D. brought me the kind of mildly inappropriate card that only she could bring, 1st block signed a card for me, and A.R. gave me his soccer t-shirt. As I was leaving work, my heart was full - I have some truly amazing students, not to mention that my coworkers brought three kinds of cake to choose from.
So anyway, I had to leave work relatively early (before 3! It's a miracle!) to make it to the DC United game, and as I was walking across the parking lot, I noticed four cake-shaped balloons stuck to my car. I stopped in my tracks and looked again: no, really, it was my car. I hurried over, saw the card taped to the window, the ribbons decorating it, and the "Happy Birthday" sign on the windshield. W., E., and J. had decorated my car for me and written me a little card. I remembered how I'd gotten on J. for being in the bathroom so long (I asked if he'd fallen into the toilet) and realized that he must've been out there working on that....
No sé, pero me impactó tanto que hubieran hecho eso que lloré. I seriously cried because it really touched me that they'd do something like that.
I sat in the card and thought, "THIS is what I'll miss." My hero, Mr. Barber, always used to tell us that life was all about RELATIONSHIPS. And he'd kind of bounce around as he said that word, like it was all there was to know. Relationship with God, with Christ, with one another, with people in need.... I have that at work. I have these RELATIONSHIPS, these connections. These are kids that I've invested in, that I've lost sleep for, that I've prayed for. I have felt like those moments in the classroom, after school, during passing periods have been this incredible ministry for me. And I mean that not in the preachy, overtly Evangelical sense, but rather in a way that has given so many of these kids a sense of their worth. I like to think that I gave them a reason to be proud of their heritage, of their other language, of their brown skin, of their accents.... I hope I've given them a reason to fight for what they want and some tools to do so. I hope I gave them someone with whom they could identify: young, brown, bi-cultural, bilingual, and successful.
I was reading the A2's exams and many of them (I'd had them for three years) thanked me for specific things. I was so proud reading W.'s essays: she still has a lot of errors, but there were complete sentences without a single word in English. I could just picture her working and working to get things right.... S. said something about how she learned so much about her own culture because of our class....
J. gave me an article awhile back about the lack of male African-American teachers in schools and the impact that has on African-American students. It was an interesting read, and I could see how some of these same issues translated across ethnic lines. There's a real need for minority teachers, and if they're male, so much the better. These kids are hungry for someone to tell them their own story, to give their lives academic validity, to tell them that someone like them can also make it. I've seen and heard so much from educators - good people who mean well but don't understand - we need teachers who will fight for and defend these kids, who will give a voice to the voiceless.
This took a turn that I hadn't been expecting, but I guess it's what I needed to say today. Do I think I'll go back to education? Someday. In a different capacity, perhaps, or maybe back in the classroom. Sólo Dios sabe. But I am grateful - beyond grateful - for these past three years.
22 May 2008
jueves
Long but good day.
First block seems like ages ago. My kids had some presentations, some entertaining, others were still okay. We'll have to keep working on the subjunctive, just because it's difficult, but they seem to be grasping the concept as best they can right now.
Second and fourth blocks my kids presented their final projects for Crónica de una muerte anunciada. They had to come up with a creative representation of one of the book's main themes. I got a lot of collages - some better than others, a hand-drawn timeline; a skit involving I. from News 4, Ángela Vicario, and the resurrected Santiago Nasar (fabulous!); a sword made of cardboard and aluminum foil with Víctor Manuelle as Santiago Nasar, Britney Spears as Ángela Vicario, and Kanye West's head on a duck as Bayardo San Román..... My kids are amazing sometimes. Just when I think they're not going to get their acts together, they pull it out and surprise me. This is what I'll miss when I'm gone.... Awww... I can't believe I'm leaving!
Sixth block, we started on the imperfect subjuntive - difficult concept, and I can already tell it's going to be killer for these kids, but I want to make sure they're prepared for next year. They'll make it through, I'm sure. It'll just be a mini unit anyway, since we're creeping up on the end of that school year....
Graduation is 15 days away and my birthday will be here in 13, not that I counted or anything, but I did. Haha.... Twenty-six isn't even a cool age, so I'm not making a really big deal out of it, but I wouldn't mind a soccer game and some dancing.
EDGE Club was pretty amazing today, too, at least the part I was there for. Mr. D. came by and talked to me about leaving. Seems like he'll miss me; I won't miss the frustration of GC with him, but I will miss him as a person. He's just a really nice guy.
Everyday I add items to my mental list of all I'll miss. So much, man.... So, so much....
For example:
First block seems like ages ago. My kids had some presentations, some entertaining, others were still okay. We'll have to keep working on the subjunctive, just because it's difficult, but they seem to be grasping the concept as best they can right now.
Second and fourth blocks my kids presented their final projects for Crónica de una muerte anunciada. They had to come up with a creative representation of one of the book's main themes. I got a lot of collages - some better than others, a hand-drawn timeline; a skit involving I. from News 4, Ángela Vicario, and the resurrected Santiago Nasar (fabulous!); a sword made of cardboard and aluminum foil with Víctor Manuelle as Santiago Nasar, Britney Spears as Ángela Vicario, and Kanye West's head on a duck as Bayardo San Román..... My kids are amazing sometimes. Just when I think they're not going to get their acts together, they pull it out and surprise me. This is what I'll miss when I'm gone.... Awww... I can't believe I'm leaving!
Sixth block, we started on the imperfect subjuntive - difficult concept, and I can already tell it's going to be killer for these kids, but I want to make sure they're prepared for next year. They'll make it through, I'm sure. It'll just be a mini unit anyway, since we're creeping up on the end of that school year....
Graduation is 15 days away and my birthday will be here in 13, not that I counted or anything, but I did. Haha.... Twenty-six isn't even a cool age, so I'm not making a really big deal out of it, but I wouldn't mind a soccer game and some dancing.
EDGE Club was pretty amazing today, too, at least the part I was there for. Mr. D. came by and talked to me about leaving. Seems like he'll miss me; I won't miss the frustration of GC with him, but I will miss him as a person. He's just a really nice guy.
Everyday I add items to my mental list of all I'll miss. So much, man.... So, so much....
For example:
* My 150+ kids
* Department lunches
* Food days
* The sound of students working in groups
* "¿B grande o v chica?"
* The satisfaction of writing a lesson plan and seeing it come to life
* The "Aha!" face
* "That starts with h?"
* "That needs an accent on the o, right?"
* The crush of humanity in the hallways during passing periods: wall-to-wall in every shade of skin
* The challenge of making grammar interesting
* Telling kids they've done an amazing job
* The easy banter in the classroom
* Being with people who believe in the importance of language
* Sharing my love for a subject
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