In a million years, I didn't expect to have this reaction to the election. I knew how I felt about Obama, knew how I voted, knew what my inner hopes were.
I didn't know that what I would feel was a sense of peace I haven't experienced for a long time. I go to school every day, I look these kids in the eyes, and I tell them every day that they can do anything they want to do, they can be anything they want to be. I have always believed it, personally, but I think I have had my doubts about the world. I think I have wondered, silently, with my inner voice, whether the world can really be blind but to the qualifications of the individual. I too have wondered "when will I be satisfied".
I am not satisfied, but I am at peace, because the world has restored my hope. I can look them in the eyes, and not only say what I believe, but know that they believe it too, that the world spoke on not the color of a man, but the qualifications, the content of his character.
We ran a mock election at my school, and there are pictures I would include if I could do so without jeopardizing their anonymity, but trust when I say that my heart was full when I left school. We CAN change the world-- one step at a time, one day at a time, shattering one misconception at a time. I believe. YES, WE CAN.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
home sick
I've been home for two days nursing a nasty cold that started in my throat, moved to my head, and has now taken up residence in my chest. It hurts, and I'm really bad at being sick-- bad at resting myself, bad at sitting still, bad at feeling bad.
It has given me a little time to reflect. To my great pleasure, this year has felt much different- things that would have weighed me down last year are rolling off my back, things I would have struggled with seem somehow easier to deal with. I feel less stressed out, less anxious, and more focused on the things that I need to accomplish.
That is not to say that things have changed-- everything is still dysfunctional, orders that mean nothing fly left and right, the focus, which belongs on the children, is not where it should be. The school system (if mine is any indication) is in a serious state of disrepair. I feel like we are casting our nets about blindly, trying to find a solution-- school takeovers, turnaround schools, charter schools, private schools. How is it that the public school system is not using it's most visible and dedicated resource- it's teachers?!? We are here, every day, from six fifteen to five o'clock. We go home and revise lesson plans, grade papers, and think. We discuss our students with our friends, family, and significant others. We ask our resources, medical, psychological, creative about our students. We brainstorm solutions to troubling problems in dreams, late night cups of coffee, and showers. We are the future that we want to see in education, but no one is asking us what we think! I know from my own conversations with colleagues that we know and understand the problems, we see the roots of the issues and can clear away the debris, we are aware of the shortcomings of suggested solutions, and we have creative and dramatic ideas that just might change the face of education and save our children! We know what methods, teachers, and administrators are effective, and which ones are just for show. We know what our children need before anything else, and we understand them on a level deeper than even their parents on many occasions. Why does no one care what I think, what I know??
I think maybe my brain is sick too. Boo.
It has given me a little time to reflect. To my great pleasure, this year has felt much different- things that would have weighed me down last year are rolling off my back, things I would have struggled with seem somehow easier to deal with. I feel less stressed out, less anxious, and more focused on the things that I need to accomplish.
That is not to say that things have changed-- everything is still dysfunctional, orders that mean nothing fly left and right, the focus, which belongs on the children, is not where it should be. The school system (if mine is any indication) is in a serious state of disrepair. I feel like we are casting our nets about blindly, trying to find a solution-- school takeovers, turnaround schools, charter schools, private schools. How is it that the public school system is not using it's most visible and dedicated resource- it's teachers?!? We are here, every day, from six fifteen to five o'clock. We go home and revise lesson plans, grade papers, and think. We discuss our students with our friends, family, and significant others. We ask our resources, medical, psychological, creative about our students. We brainstorm solutions to troubling problems in dreams, late night cups of coffee, and showers. We are the future that we want to see in education, but no one is asking us what we think! I know from my own conversations with colleagues that we know and understand the problems, we see the roots of the issues and can clear away the debris, we are aware of the shortcomings of suggested solutions, and we have creative and dramatic ideas that just might change the face of education and save our children! We know what methods, teachers, and administrators are effective, and which ones are just for show. We know what our children need before anything else, and we understand them on a level deeper than even their parents on many occasions. Why does no one care what I think, what I know??
I think maybe my brain is sick too. Boo.
Monday, August 11, 2008
a photo frenzy, and look at my new kitchen!!
Countertops came today, and they are so beautiful I think I might die!!
I chose everything myself, and it feels like the kitchen is a piece of me.
It has the appliances I want, the colors and feel I love, and it's just waiting for friends...
And laundry!
Beautiful bathroom soon to follow-- the tile is on the floor...
Just waiting for grout.
And paint, and a vanity, and toilet, and a refinished tub, etc. :) But it's coming along!
I chose everything myself, and it feels like the kitchen is a piece of me.
It has the appliances I want, the colors and feel I love, and it's just waiting for friends...
And laundry!
Beautiful bathroom soon to follow-- the tile is on the floor...
Just waiting for grout.
And paint, and a vanity, and toilet, and a refinished tub, etc. :) But it's coming along!
And speaking of beautiful things, the baby is growing like crazy!
THAT'S LOVE!
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
An interesting start...
I knew this year would be different- I was hoping going back would feel easier, less stressful, and I think my hopes were realized, with the exception of Sunday night, when I thought I might pull my hair out and vomit every five minutes...
But we started, and I 'm in it for the long haul. It's hard, when you've been disappointed in what you're doing, to not go in expecting that same disappointment. I'm doing my best to be open, willing to engage myself in whatever comes my way, and hoping that with another year of experience comes another leap in growth for me as a person and educator.
Challenges abound. I spent some time talking with our new eighth grade teacher the other day. A first year teacher, she was surprised to be given a class of eighth graders, and a little naive. In our school probably like countless other *big city schools*, little is guaranteed, and you're not only fighting the battles of educating the students, but also of educating their parents and of fighting prejudices, stereotypes, and expectations that are bigger and stronger than you can imagine. It's a hard line to walk. You come in young, idealistic, full of hope and promise, and that is good, but it can't last. You have to take a dose of reality, and walk that fine line between honesty and cynicism. You have to admit to yourself the atrocity of your students' lives, but not believe that that horror is unending. It's even harder when that trust, that faith that we hold is broken, and hers was broken the first day, when the kids got into her purse, stole her change, went through her phone, and ruined a few of her things. "It's frustrating," she said "to know that I spent my time and money on kids I'd never met, and this is what happens. It makes you want to quit. That fast."
It does. It's so hard! So hard to hold on to that piece of you and believe in that piece of them when you are faced with the things we see every day. It's so easy to fall into old and established patterns, to judge things on race or socioeconomic lines, to blame this or that, or mom or dad, and to forget that when one part of our society suffers, we all suffer. We can not possibly achieve our highest potential if any part of us is held down, chained by mindset or gender or stereotype or race or religion or money, we can not realize our own worth if we are judging the worth of others. It hurts, literally and figuratively, to work so hard for the future of these children and to have that work, and these children, cut down one by one, be it by violence, neglect, ignorance, or chance. It's difficult to start on that note, to have your trust and good intentions ripped in half, and it takes a strong character to not allow that event to be the guiding force in your future actions.
I believe in you, *first year teacher*, because it means believing in myself as well, and because it means believing in my children, and in their future, and I am afraid, deeply afraid, that if I stop believing in those things that there may not be anyone else who does, and because I know that the job we do is too valuable for us to not believe in ourselves and the importance of what we do. I pray that you will give them another chance, because life may not, and we hold in our hands the opportunity to be that change in the world. I believe in you.
But we started, and I 'm in it for the long haul. It's hard, when you've been disappointed in what you're doing, to not go in expecting that same disappointment. I'm doing my best to be open, willing to engage myself in whatever comes my way, and hoping that with another year of experience comes another leap in growth for me as a person and educator.
Challenges abound. I spent some time talking with our new eighth grade teacher the other day. A first year teacher, she was surprised to be given a class of eighth graders, and a little naive. In our school probably like countless other *big city schools*, little is guaranteed, and you're not only fighting the battles of educating the students, but also of educating their parents and of fighting prejudices, stereotypes, and expectations that are bigger and stronger than you can imagine. It's a hard line to walk. You come in young, idealistic, full of hope and promise, and that is good, but it can't last. You have to take a dose of reality, and walk that fine line between honesty and cynicism. You have to admit to yourself the atrocity of your students' lives, but not believe that that horror is unending. It's even harder when that trust, that faith that we hold is broken, and hers was broken the first day, when the kids got into her purse, stole her change, went through her phone, and ruined a few of her things. "It's frustrating," she said "to know that I spent my time and money on kids I'd never met, and this is what happens. It makes you want to quit. That fast."
It does. It's so hard! So hard to hold on to that piece of you and believe in that piece of them when you are faced with the things we see every day. It's so easy to fall into old and established patterns, to judge things on race or socioeconomic lines, to blame this or that, or mom or dad, and to forget that when one part of our society suffers, we all suffer. We can not possibly achieve our highest potential if any part of us is held down, chained by mindset or gender or stereotype or race or religion or money, we can not realize our own worth if we are judging the worth of others. It hurts, literally and figuratively, to work so hard for the future of these children and to have that work, and these children, cut down one by one, be it by violence, neglect, ignorance, or chance. It's difficult to start on that note, to have your trust and good intentions ripped in half, and it takes a strong character to not allow that event to be the guiding force in your future actions.
I believe in you, *first year teacher*, because it means believing in myself as well, and because it means believing in my children, and in their future, and I am afraid, deeply afraid, that if I stop believing in those things that there may not be anyone else who does, and because I know that the job we do is too valuable for us to not believe in ourselves and the importance of what we do. I pray that you will give them another chance, because life may not, and we hold in our hands the opportunity to be that change in the world. I believe in you.
I'm not the only one.Friday, August 1, 2008
Surely It's Not Really Time...
Amy and me outside of Potes, SpainIt seems unbelievable, but it's true... The kids start back on MONDAY!! I've been spending this week trying to balance out the million and a half things going on in my life, and not really feeling like I'm succeeding. Between packing, fixing up/trying to finish the condo/getting ready for school to start/readjusting to getting back, my head is spinning and my feet are barely touching the ground! I have much to say, but it will have to wait until... next week?
Until then...
Peace.
Peace Memorial, Champ de Mars, Paris, FranceThursday, July 17, 2008
Condo Update pics
They had a cabinet party while I was gone. You can see the pics here:
http://picasaweb.google.com/sgkeim/CondoIKEAUpdate?authkey=L7W0Bok8Q_0
http://picasaweb.google.com/sgkeim/CondoIKEAUpdate?authkey=L7W0Bok8Q_0
¡Soy en España!
If my typing sucks it´s because I´m using a keyboard at an internet café in Spain, and it´s special. I´m special too, so maybe we´re made for each other.
My friend Amy and I have been travelling in Europe for nine days now, and I have ten more until I´m headed back to the States. I didn´t think I´d have the change to do this now, but... this morning we went to check out of our hotel and found the reception empty. It was 9:15, our train left at 10... no biggie. No one was there by 9.30, so we found a number on the hotel door and called it "aviso" it said. I called. I had a conversation. It went like this... this is translated, of course. Me is me. Them is, of course, the unknown male on the other end of the phone.
Them: ¿Hola?
Me: ¡Hola! I am the hotel. Want to leave. (this is not, of course what I was trying to say, or what I would have said in English, but my Spanish sucks, and when in Rome...)
Them: rapid fire Spanish
Me: What? (at least I know que)
Them: You want to leave? Rapid question in spanish
Me: Sì. I go. Bus at ten hours. Go please. Leave.
Them: Will twenty minutes be okay?
Me: (after looking to confirm it is 25 til 10) Bus at ten hours.
Them: okay.
Amy congratulated me on my Spanish (oh, the books I could write), and I sent her to the bus stop to see if she could get the bus to wait (she couldn´t but did manage to say "My friend is the check at these hotel", and the bus driver, although sweet, couldn´t wait.) I waited impatiently, and the lady showed up about 9:58, whistling. I paid. The bells tolled 10:00. I ran down the cobblestone hills in flats and a giant backpack. The bus was gone. I ate chocolate, and the world was okay. As the GPS says... "route recalculation".
Seriously though, (although all of that was serious) this has been an excellent trip. We have had beautiful weather and exquisite scenery, amazing hikes and luxurious times relaxing in ocean and pool. It´s been a break for my mind, which is good since I have to be back at school three days after I get home. The food has been terribly unimpressive and not at all satisfying, but the wine delicious and cheap. And the Spanish must be terribly forgiving, as patient as they are with amy and I butchering their language at every turn ("Excuse me, how is it what you say the coffee with...? What is that? *this involves pointing at other people´s food, etc.). And also they have been patient with me mixing three languages (Et madame, si nous utilisons les... je ne sais pas le mot... les lockers par aya... I mean juste là... quanto... no combien ca coute? ** which is a very interesting mix of French, Spanish, and English. I couldn´t keep them straight this morning.) I´ve learned I speak more Spanish than I thought I did, although it is pidgeon spanish, and I don´t conjugate anything and instead just use the infinitive, except for the verbs quiero, tengo, and well, that´s it, where I only use the first person present tense. It´s fun. An adventure. I´m ready for Paris where I can feel smart again.
The condo has been coming along in my absence, cause I have amazing friends who love me and work for me while I´m gallavanting around the world, and an incredibly talented and loving father. Picture of everything will be up when I get home. Until then, much love. ¡later!
My friend Amy and I have been travelling in Europe for nine days now, and I have ten more until I´m headed back to the States. I didn´t think I´d have the change to do this now, but... this morning we went to check out of our hotel and found the reception empty. It was 9:15, our train left at 10... no biggie. No one was there by 9.30, so we found a number on the hotel door and called it "aviso" it said. I called. I had a conversation. It went like this... this is translated, of course. Me is me. Them is, of course, the unknown male on the other end of the phone.
Them: ¿Hola?
Me: ¡Hola! I am the hotel. Want to leave. (this is not, of course what I was trying to say, or what I would have said in English, but my Spanish sucks, and when in Rome...)
Them: rapid fire Spanish
Me: What? (at least I know que)
Them: You want to leave? Rapid question in spanish
Me: Sì. I go. Bus at ten hours. Go please. Leave.
Them: Will twenty minutes be okay?
Me: (after looking to confirm it is 25 til 10) Bus at ten hours.
Them: okay.
Amy congratulated me on my Spanish (oh, the books I could write), and I sent her to the bus stop to see if she could get the bus to wait (she couldn´t but did manage to say "My friend is the check at these hotel", and the bus driver, although sweet, couldn´t wait.) I waited impatiently, and the lady showed up about 9:58, whistling. I paid. The bells tolled 10:00. I ran down the cobblestone hills in flats and a giant backpack. The bus was gone. I ate chocolate, and the world was okay. As the GPS says... "route recalculation".
Seriously though, (although all of that was serious) this has been an excellent trip. We have had beautiful weather and exquisite scenery, amazing hikes and luxurious times relaxing in ocean and pool. It´s been a break for my mind, which is good since I have to be back at school three days after I get home. The food has been terribly unimpressive and not at all satisfying, but the wine delicious and cheap. And the Spanish must be terribly forgiving, as patient as they are with amy and I butchering their language at every turn ("Excuse me, how is it what you say the coffee with...? What is that? *this involves pointing at other people´s food, etc.). And also they have been patient with me mixing three languages (Et madame, si nous utilisons les... je ne sais pas le mot... les lockers par aya... I mean juste là... quanto... no combien ca coute? ** which is a very interesting mix of French, Spanish, and English. I couldn´t keep them straight this morning.) I´ve learned I speak more Spanish than I thought I did, although it is pidgeon spanish, and I don´t conjugate anything and instead just use the infinitive, except for the verbs quiero, tengo, and well, that´s it, where I only use the first person present tense. It´s fun. An adventure. I´m ready for Paris where I can feel smart again.
The condo has been coming along in my absence, cause I have amazing friends who love me and work for me while I´m gallavanting around the world, and an incredibly talented and loving father. Picture of everything will be up when I get home. Until then, much love. ¡later!
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