Cowboy Bob. That's my latest friend...Cowboy Bob.
My in-laws are in town from NY and the one thing on their list was to pan for gold while they're in Arizona. Cowboy Bob was our scout on our $500 mission for gold this morning. That's right - $500 for four adults and two children to take a two-hour Jeep trip into the desert and sift for gold in the 100 degree heat.
We arrived at what was a very tacky "Ghost Town" place that advertised themselves as "authentic" but was obviously built for makin' money. We loaded into the no-door-having Jeep and off-roaded it for 30 minutes of me grasping my 5-year-old with one hand and the side of the Jeep with the other.
We all were disappointed (especially the father-in-law) to find out that this would be a dry wash gold panning excursion. This means that we loaded our pans with dry sand, added water from a bottle, and swooshed and swooshed and swooshed. No river, because (duh!) we never get rain here and all the rivers are dry. For $500 we each found tons of Fool's Gold, which the boys coveted all afternoon. In the first ten minutes, I found ten gold flakes and that was the highlight. Cowboy Bob was an excellent teacher.
Cowboy Bob is from the Midwest. He retired in 2008 and moved out to AZ to give 6-shooting a try as a Hobby. Not a hobby, but a Hobby. He loved learning about old western lore and soon found himself working part-time as a gold panning scout. He was great with the kids, pointing out that Isaiah's pan was filled with Garnet, something I didn't see since it's naturally very plum colored.
Cowboy Bob entertained alllll of Jackson's questions about bein' a real cowboy. He was patient and fun and possibly a bit sneaky, but also possibly very smart.
As we were driving the intensely bumpy road back, my father-in-law asked if anyone ever pans in the other dried up washes. "Not really, but this wash right here? I'm gonna bring m'wife here this weekend...a guy found somethin' here last week...." Is Cowboy Bob trying to entice us to spend another $500 to return, piquing our curiosity and treasure-seeking minds, or just being a jerk for not showing us the really great "fishing" spot???
Friday, May 28, 2010
Friend #33
The world really is very small.
I had to say goodbye to another graduating class of students...the Class of 2010. Saido is one of my very sweet students from Somalia. I met her sister Monta as I was hugging and hugging and hugging Saido and telling her how proud of her I am. I hugged Saido's baby - who showed me how he can walk now. I hugged Saido's husband. And pretty soon, Saido's entire family of sisters, nieces and nephews were all hugging me and my 12-year-old son whom I brought with me.
Saido has spoken about Monta a lot. When Saido found out last year that she was having a boy we both let out a disappointed sigh (see post #32). You see, Saido's sister Monta has four boys under the age of six. Like me, Monta would love a girl, but doesn't want to chance having five boys. (Parents of boys understand.)
Monta and I bonded at graduation. She thanked me for loving Saido while Monta and her family live in Minnesota. Minnesota?!? How did Saido leave this important bit of information out of her family bio??? I freak as I always freak when I meet another Minnesotan, 'cause we're cool people. "What part of Minnesota do you live in?" I eagerly asked Monta, but I really wondered if she's heard of St. Cloud. She said that she and her family recently moved to Minneapolis, Brooklyn Park, to be exact. "I know that area! I used to live in the Cities!" And before that........they lived in St. Cloud for four years!!! I was giddy and waaay too excited. "Oh my gosh! That's where I'm from! Where did you live? Where did you work? Where did you kids go to school?" Monta must have thought her sister had a nut for a teacher.
Monta's husband was a student at St. Cloud State, where I went. She worked in a grocery store and they lived very near where I grew up. They even frequented a Somali grocery just five blocks from my home.
Now, I understand this must be very boring for the average reader, but it was heaven for me. For a moment within the graduation chaos, I was home. I was blissfully remembering that place I tried so hard to run away from when I turned 18, then returned when I was 21 for a few years.
It's interesting how Home turns into home after moving away. Although I can't imagine how my Somalian students feel about their original home, I'm glad they can at least share my home.
I had to say goodbye to another graduating class of students...the Class of 2010. Saido is one of my very sweet students from Somalia. I met her sister Monta as I was hugging and hugging and hugging Saido and telling her how proud of her I am. I hugged Saido's baby - who showed me how he can walk now. I hugged Saido's husband. And pretty soon, Saido's entire family of sisters, nieces and nephews were all hugging me and my 12-year-old son whom I brought with me.
Saido has spoken about Monta a lot. When Saido found out last year that she was having a boy we both let out a disappointed sigh (see post #32). You see, Saido's sister Monta has four boys under the age of six. Like me, Monta would love a girl, but doesn't want to chance having five boys. (Parents of boys understand.)
Monta and I bonded at graduation. She thanked me for loving Saido while Monta and her family live in Minnesota. Minnesota?!? How did Saido leave this important bit of information out of her family bio??? I freak as I always freak when I meet another Minnesotan, 'cause we're cool people. "What part of Minnesota do you live in?" I eagerly asked Monta, but I really wondered if she's heard of St. Cloud. She said that she and her family recently moved to Minneapolis, Brooklyn Park, to be exact. "I know that area! I used to live in the Cities!" And before that........they lived in St. Cloud for four years!!! I was giddy and waaay too excited. "Oh my gosh! That's where I'm from! Where did you live? Where did you work? Where did you kids go to school?" Monta must have thought her sister had a nut for a teacher.
Monta's husband was a student at St. Cloud State, where I went. She worked in a grocery store and they lived very near where I grew up. They even frequented a Somali grocery just five blocks from my home.
Now, I understand this must be very boring for the average reader, but it was heaven for me. For a moment within the graduation chaos, I was home. I was blissfully remembering that place I tried so hard to run away from when I turned 18, then returned when I was 21 for a few years.
It's interesting how Home turns into home after moving away. Although I can't imagine how my Somalian students feel about their original home, I'm glad they can at least share my home.
Friend #32
I said goodbye to my baby today. He's officially no longer a baby. He's officially a first grader now and boy, am I having a rough time.
I've always envisioned having three children like my mother had. And no boys...just beautiful, fair-haired princess-daughters who would let me braid their locks 22 hours of the day (we'd play House for the other two hours.)
Recently, however, I had to come to the realization that at 34, I'm just too darn tired to have baby #3, not to mention take a chance on getting Crazy Wild Boy #3. It pains me, and it took a good two months to "mourn" the third baby that would never come to be, but I'm happy and peaceful now...at least I thought so until my baby graduated from Kindergarten.
Today I met Kolbie, who is 41 years old and pregnant with her 6th baby! Her children are 18, 14, 11, 6 and 2. Her son was graduating with my son and we bonded over tears that flowed with the growth of our baby boys. Kolbie works full-time in her family's business with her husband. She keeps it together, or at least it looks like she does. She and her husband will have kids until she can't have any more. Part of me envies her and part of me wants to yell, "Sucka!" at her for being a slave to her children. She pointed out that she has FOUR "graduations" this year...her Senior, 8th grader, 6th grader, and kindergartner. Yikes. That's a lot of celebrating for one week, if you ask me.
The thing that surprised me about Kolbie is that she looks neither old nor tired. She looks experienced and peaceful. She looks brave. She looks settled and established, especially with this 6th pregnancy.
I'm peaceful, settled and established also. I love my two awesome boys. I am excited to have a niece who I can spoil in a few months and in 6 years, I'll be attending her Kindergarten graduation and crying just as much.
I've always envisioned having three children like my mother had. And no boys...just beautiful, fair-haired princess-daughters who would let me braid their locks 22 hours of the day (we'd play House for the other two hours.)
Recently, however, I had to come to the realization that at 34, I'm just too darn tired to have baby #3, not to mention take a chance on getting Crazy Wild Boy #3. It pains me, and it took a good two months to "mourn" the third baby that would never come to be, but I'm happy and peaceful now...at least I thought so until my baby graduated from Kindergarten.
Today I met Kolbie, who is 41 years old and pregnant with her 6th baby! Her children are 18, 14, 11, 6 and 2. Her son was graduating with my son and we bonded over tears that flowed with the growth of our baby boys. Kolbie works full-time in her family's business with her husband. She keeps it together, or at least it looks like she does. She and her husband will have kids until she can't have any more. Part of me envies her and part of me wants to yell, "Sucka!" at her for being a slave to her children. She pointed out that she has FOUR "graduations" this year...her Senior, 8th grader, 6th grader, and kindergartner. Yikes. That's a lot of celebrating for one week, if you ask me.
The thing that surprised me about Kolbie is that she looks neither old nor tired. She looks experienced and peaceful. She looks brave. She looks settled and established, especially with this 6th pregnancy.
I'm peaceful, settled and established also. I love my two awesome boys. I am excited to have a niece who I can spoil in a few months and in 6 years, I'll be attending her Kindergarten graduation and crying just as much.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Friend #31
Whenever I tell people what I do (teaching at-risk teens more than just reading and writing), many assume that I'm an expert at turning kids around, or "teen whispering" as one person once called it. Although I'm flattered and confident with my ability to communicate with today's difficult teen, it's really just common sense.
Today I met Tammy. Oddly, she was my dental hygienist yet we spent a lot of time talking as I got my teeth cleaned. It all started with a beautiful portrait of my dentist's newborn identical twin girls, Jane and Mary (LOVE the names!) I talked about how I always wanted two girls, but I got two boys. I went on to add that I'll be the aunt to a little girl (Kennedy Marlene, due to make her grand debut September 29th) and that's enough for me. Tammy told me that her sister just had a little girl last week...the second girl in the family among twelve boys. The other niece is what her family calls "The Difficult One." Danielle, Oh, Difficult One, is fifteen years old and hates school. Knowing that I cater to kids who need extra love, Tammy asked me for my advice. Tammy has no children of her own and so Danielle was always her "baby."
"She hates school so much, and it's really hard for her. It's been going on for a long time. In fact, she had to repeat kindergarten and now she's just finishing 8th grade at age 15."
I prodded, "What is she GOOD at? What does she LIKE to do?"
"Well, she's good at complaining, bitching, blaming, sneaking out...when I'm at my sister's house helping her with her homework, she turns into the Hulk."
I repeated, "But what is she GOOD at...other than the negative stuff?" For just meeting Tammy, this conversation was getting deep.
"Um, well, er, she really loves to sing. Anything with music. She wants to be a singer."
That's it! "Get her into music or singing lessons outside of school...like, right now."
Tammy didn't get where I was going. I clarified, "You know how sports help teen boys to focus in school, their coaches take interest in their academics. The same is for music, dance, 4-H, anything outside of school. If Danielle can be confident in just one area of life, she will want to do well in the other areas: family, friends, and academics." I've seen it happen. Really. When children come home with bad grades and a bad attitude, often the first thing to "go" is their favorite extra-curricular activities, since parents assume that the activity is getting too much attention, and that if they take away the activity, the punishment is so severe that the child will try hard to get it back. When a child is screwing up in school AND has no positive activities, they find solace in the wrong crowd, bad activities, and develop into one of those "wrong crowd members." In contrast, when a child screws up in school but still has something to look forward to and feel special in ONE area, it increases their self-esteem and the WANT to do well across the board.
As I got out of the dentist's chair, I urged Tammy to ask her sister to get Danielle into music.
Let's hope Danielle is able to pull herself together at the very young age of 15.
Today I met Tammy. Oddly, she was my dental hygienist yet we spent a lot of time talking as I got my teeth cleaned. It all started with a beautiful portrait of my dentist's newborn identical twin girls, Jane and Mary (LOVE the names!) I talked about how I always wanted two girls, but I got two boys. I went on to add that I'll be the aunt to a little girl (Kennedy Marlene, due to make her grand debut September 29th) and that's enough for me. Tammy told me that her sister just had a little girl last week...the second girl in the family among twelve boys. The other niece is what her family calls "The Difficult One." Danielle, Oh, Difficult One, is fifteen years old and hates school. Knowing that I cater to kids who need extra love, Tammy asked me for my advice. Tammy has no children of her own and so Danielle was always her "baby."
"She hates school so much, and it's really hard for her. It's been going on for a long time. In fact, she had to repeat kindergarten and now she's just finishing 8th grade at age 15."
I prodded, "What is she GOOD at? What does she LIKE to do?"
"Well, she's good at complaining, bitching, blaming, sneaking out...when I'm at my sister's house helping her with her homework, she turns into the Hulk."
I repeated, "But what is she GOOD at...other than the negative stuff?" For just meeting Tammy, this conversation was getting deep.
"Um, well, er, she really loves to sing. Anything with music. She wants to be a singer."
That's it! "Get her into music or singing lessons outside of school...like, right now."
Tammy didn't get where I was going. I clarified, "You know how sports help teen boys to focus in school, their coaches take interest in their academics. The same is for music, dance, 4-H, anything outside of school. If Danielle can be confident in just one area of life, she will want to do well in the other areas: family, friends, and academics." I've seen it happen. Really. When children come home with bad grades and a bad attitude, often the first thing to "go" is their favorite extra-curricular activities, since parents assume that the activity is getting too much attention, and that if they take away the activity, the punishment is so severe that the child will try hard to get it back. When a child is screwing up in school AND has no positive activities, they find solace in the wrong crowd, bad activities, and develop into one of those "wrong crowd members." In contrast, when a child screws up in school but still has something to look forward to and feel special in ONE area, it increases their self-esteem and the WANT to do well across the board.
As I got out of the dentist's chair, I urged Tammy to ask her sister to get Danielle into music.
Let's hope Danielle is able to pull herself together at the very young age of 15.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Friend #30
I curse the day I was named. Kirsten? Why couldn't I have been Kristen, Kristy, or Christina??? No one ever gets it right; the boss I've known for three years still calls me Kristen at times. Add that to my last name - Peters (not Peterson, mind you!) and we've got a recipe for some shenanigans.
I met Katie today after speaking to her on the phone many times in the past two months. Katie is the receptionist at the doctor's office where I will have my surgery in two weeks. I called last week and asked her to send me an email with details of my surgery, ways to prepare, etc. Katie said she'd get the email out right away. Six days later and I still didn't have an email from her. I called her back today.
"What's your name?"
"Kirsten...Peters"
"Ohhh! Kristen! Yes, I emailed you last Wednesday, did you check your spam folder?"
"There was nothing in my spam folder. Could you re-send it?"
"Ok, I just did..." Silence as I waited for my email....it was a very long pause.
"It's not showing up," I stated. Katie then put me on hold.
It turned out that she had sent the email to "kristen.peters@...." Go figure.
She apologized a trillion times and sent it again. This time I received the email. Four minutes after Katie and I hung up, I had to call her back with a question.
Laughing, I said, "Sorry, I know I just hung up with you but I have a question..."
"Ok, what's your name?"
"Uhhh, Kirsten. Kirsten Peters...I...just...spoke to you."
"Oh! Yeah, Kristen! Did you have a question?" Urg!!!! Didn't we just have a conversation about my name???
Fast forward 30 minutes and I was in the doctor's office to sign some papers I hadn't signed at the last appointment.
"It's great to finally meet you in person!", I tried to sound excited.
"Ok, sign in. What's your name?"
"Kirsten...Peters...we spent the last hour on the phone with each other." She got my chart.
"Ok, did you have an appointment? I don't see your name, Kristen."
After I calmed myself from what could have been a heart attack, I reminded her of the paperwork. "I'm SOOO sorry about the email mishap...I didn't read your chart correctly."
I tried not to lose it, "It's ok, it happens all the time." I just wanted to sign the damn papers and get out of there. Done. Signed. Ready to walk out the door.
"Bye Kristen! We'll see you on Thursday for your appointment!"
Gah!
I met Katie today after speaking to her on the phone many times in the past two months. Katie is the receptionist at the doctor's office where I will have my surgery in two weeks. I called last week and asked her to send me an email with details of my surgery, ways to prepare, etc. Katie said she'd get the email out right away. Six days later and I still didn't have an email from her. I called her back today.
"What's your name?"
"Kirsten...Peters"
"Ohhh! Kristen! Yes, I emailed you last Wednesday, did you check your spam folder?"
"There was nothing in my spam folder. Could you re-send it?"
"Ok, I just did..." Silence as I waited for my email....it was a very long pause.
"It's not showing up," I stated. Katie then put me on hold.
It turned out that she had sent the email to "kristen.peters@...." Go figure.
She apologized a trillion times and sent it again. This time I received the email. Four minutes after Katie and I hung up, I had to call her back with a question.
Laughing, I said, "Sorry, I know I just hung up with you but I have a question..."
"Ok, what's your name?"
"Uhhh, Kirsten. Kirsten Peters...I...just...spoke to you."
"Oh! Yeah, Kristen! Did you have a question?" Urg!!!! Didn't we just have a conversation about my name???
Fast forward 30 minutes and I was in the doctor's office to sign some papers I hadn't signed at the last appointment.
"It's great to finally meet you in person!", I tried to sound excited.
"Ok, sign in. What's your name?"
"Kirsten...Peters...we spent the last hour on the phone with each other." She got my chart.
"Ok, did you have an appointment? I don't see your name, Kristen."
After I calmed myself from what could have been a heart attack, I reminded her of the paperwork. "I'm SOOO sorry about the email mishap...I didn't read your chart correctly."
I tried not to lose it, "It's ok, it happens all the time." I just wanted to sign the damn papers and get out of there. Done. Signed. Ready to walk out the door.
"Bye Kristen! We'll see you on Thursday for your appointment!"
Gah!
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Friend #29
They're called Helicopter parents. The ones who hover. The ones who come for the rescue and just the right time, when things are at their worst and kids can't help themselves. Actually, the most daring rescues happen when children won't help themselves.
Julia is a Helicopter parent at its worst. I met her when she called me last month (after getting her son's midterm progress report), asking what her son could do to bring up his grade of 4% in my class. "Stay awake, not talk to his friends, do the work rather than practice graffiti on it, come to class sooner than 10 minutes before dismissal..." She defended her son, "Well, it's hard for me to get him to school on time. He has a difficult time falling asleep before 2am most nights and so I let him sleep in so he can get 8 hours of sleep." Really? This kid is 18 years old!
"Well, he can come in for tutoring on Fridays or after school and I'd be more than happy to help." This was four weeks ago and I have never seen him show up for tutoring. Why? Mom picks him up right after school so he can go to work on time. I wonder if she attends his work reviews and asks for his raises too.
This morning, Julia was at the front office desk when I arrived. She introduced herself to me (what? it's only 7:25am! Ahhh, Son was home still sleeping...) Julia was here to see what she could do to salvage her son's now 16% grade so that he could pass my class. It's the LAST day of school!!! She was making her rounds. She had two more teachers to talk to this morning.
"I'm afraid your son just isn't applying his self and won't until he has to face the consequences."
"So you're saying there's no way for him to pass the class?"
"He has completed one out of every six assignments. He never wrote an essay, nor has he read the novel we read in class because I was unable to wake him up while we read. In addition, he has missed 14 out of 36 class periods."
"Can you give him an 'incomplete' and he can do the work over the summer?" You mean, YOU can do his work over the summer...
"If he was here begging for a chance, rather than you, and he had a valid excuse for his behavior, I might consider it, but I will not in this case." Boy was it hard to not laugh.
"Ok, thank you. Can you show me where is third period teacher's room is now?..."
My ultimate wish for parents is that they appreciate and find joy in the learning experiences for their children. Being uncomfortable is good for everyone. Parents are doing their children a HUGE disservice when they hover and rescue. Children will never learn how to pull themselves up. Children will never see the value of hard work.
I'm guessing that Julia's son will not return to our school next year. I'm sure she's blaming me for not teaching her son. That's ok. I'm fine with having helicopters hate me.
Julia is a Helicopter parent at its worst. I met her when she called me last month (after getting her son's midterm progress report), asking what her son could do to bring up his grade of 4% in my class. "Stay awake, not talk to his friends, do the work rather than practice graffiti on it, come to class sooner than 10 minutes before dismissal..." She defended her son, "Well, it's hard for me to get him to school on time. He has a difficult time falling asleep before 2am most nights and so I let him sleep in so he can get 8 hours of sleep." Really? This kid is 18 years old!
"Well, he can come in for tutoring on Fridays or after school and I'd be more than happy to help." This was four weeks ago and I have never seen him show up for tutoring. Why? Mom picks him up right after school so he can go to work on time. I wonder if she attends his work reviews and asks for his raises too.
This morning, Julia was at the front office desk when I arrived. She introduced herself to me (what? it's only 7:25am! Ahhh, Son was home still sleeping...) Julia was here to see what she could do to salvage her son's now 16% grade so that he could pass my class. It's the LAST day of school!!! She was making her rounds. She had two more teachers to talk to this morning.
"I'm afraid your son just isn't applying his self and won't until he has to face the consequences."
"So you're saying there's no way for him to pass the class?"
"He has completed one out of every six assignments. He never wrote an essay, nor has he read the novel we read in class because I was unable to wake him up while we read. In addition, he has missed 14 out of 36 class periods."
"Can you give him an 'incomplete' and he can do the work over the summer?" You mean, YOU can do his work over the summer...
"If he was here begging for a chance, rather than you, and he had a valid excuse for his behavior, I might consider it, but I will not in this case." Boy was it hard to not laugh.
"Ok, thank you. Can you show me where is third period teacher's room is now?..."
My ultimate wish for parents is that they appreciate and find joy in the learning experiences for their children. Being uncomfortable is good for everyone. Parents are doing their children a HUGE disservice when they hover and rescue. Children will never learn how to pull themselves up. Children will never see the value of hard work.
I'm guessing that Julia's son will not return to our school next year. I'm sure she's blaming me for not teaching her son. That's ok. I'm fine with having helicopters hate me.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Friend #28
I changed a vote today! I actually changed someone's mind minutes before they cast their vote.
Today is Voting Day for the big Prop 100 in Arizona. A "Yes" vote will add a 1c tax which will go toward education and public safety - the backbone of every community. A "No" vote will result in schools having to make even more devastating cuts. To me, this means more students per class, less teachers in my school, less money for supplies, no books ordered, the list goes on. I've completely given up on ever getting a newer computer than my 2002 one in my classroom.
The voting line was very long this morning. I could have waited until after work to vote, but it was really important for me to get the "I Voted" sticker to wear to school today.
I was surprised that as many, if not more people showed up for this vote than for the Presidential election in '08. Good. I've always said that local elections affect us much more than national elections.
Jody was behind me in line today. She is a seemingly educated, pleasant girl/woman/lady in her 20s. She has no children, but wants them some day.
A few of us were passing the time in line talking about the jobs we were going to be late for after standing in the line forever. When I mentioned that I'm a teacher, a few people said what I hear a lot, "Oh Bless you! We could never teach with how kids are today! Good for you! How secure is your job? My sister/aunt/dad/neighbor is a teacher, do you know him/her?"
Jody asked me right out, what this Prop 100 would do for me. Before answering, I asked her what the popular perception is right now. She replied that she is planning to vote against the proposition because she thinks the money should make it to the classrooms, not admin costs, building fees, and committees that would decide how to spend the money.
This was my opportunity to say what I could to guarantee that I've done the research and I am confident that the money will go to ME in MY CLASSROOM. That I don't ask for a raise, in fact, I haven't gotten a raise in two years. That my job will be "not impossible" if the prop passes, but nearly impossible if it doesn't. (At this point, I'm sure glad I've done my research!)
Jody and I talked about how education is different from ten years ago. Teachers are competing with video games, ipods and cell phones. I sure as hell don't have blinking lights, wi-fi, and colorful graphics. Although I am compatible with students who use a Mac or a PC, my lessons are not personalized. I do not have apps, youtube, or touchscreen. I am a human, trying to make metaphors and plotlines sexy.
Sure, there are ways to teach my topics in an engaging manner, but that costs money.
I can have my students research global warming, or I could bring them on a trip to show them the effects first-hand.
I would love to have more computers in my class but it would just be nice to have desks that aren't so cracked that they pinch kids' legs when they sit down. I'd love to afford educational posters for my room instead of the handmade ones the students make using faded, worn-out markers on the unused side of a poster board. And I'd like a cabinet to store my things in that I didn't have to personally purchase at Goodwill.
I changed Jody's vote today. She asked me to wait for her to finish voting. I went first, praying that others in Arizona would color in the same line I did. I waited outside for Jody. When she came out, she handed me her business card (she works at a consulting company) and asked me to email her in the fall when I reap the benefits of the 1c sales tax.
Today is Voting Day for the big Prop 100 in Arizona. A "Yes" vote will add a 1c tax which will go toward education and public safety - the backbone of every community. A "No" vote will result in schools having to make even more devastating cuts. To me, this means more students per class, less teachers in my school, less money for supplies, no books ordered, the list goes on. I've completely given up on ever getting a newer computer than my 2002 one in my classroom.
The voting line was very long this morning. I could have waited until after work to vote, but it was really important for me to get the "I Voted" sticker to wear to school today.
I was surprised that as many, if not more people showed up for this vote than for the Presidential election in '08. Good. I've always said that local elections affect us much more than national elections.
Jody was behind me in line today. She is a seemingly educated, pleasant girl/woman/lady in her 20s. She has no children, but wants them some day.
A few of us were passing the time in line talking about the jobs we were going to be late for after standing in the line forever. When I mentioned that I'm a teacher, a few people said what I hear a lot, "Oh Bless you! We could never teach with how kids are today! Good for you! How secure is your job? My sister/aunt/dad/neighbor is a teacher, do you know him/her?"
Jody asked me right out, what this Prop 100 would do for me. Before answering, I asked her what the popular perception is right now. She replied that she is planning to vote against the proposition because she thinks the money should make it to the classrooms, not admin costs, building fees, and committees that would decide how to spend the money.
This was my opportunity to say what I could to guarantee that I've done the research and I am confident that the money will go to ME in MY CLASSROOM. That I don't ask for a raise, in fact, I haven't gotten a raise in two years. That my job will be "not impossible" if the prop passes, but nearly impossible if it doesn't. (At this point, I'm sure glad I've done my research!)
Jody and I talked about how education is different from ten years ago. Teachers are competing with video games, ipods and cell phones. I sure as hell don't have blinking lights, wi-fi, and colorful graphics. Although I am compatible with students who use a Mac or a PC, my lessons are not personalized. I do not have apps, youtube, or touchscreen. I am a human, trying to make metaphors and plotlines sexy.
Sure, there are ways to teach my topics in an engaging manner, but that costs money.
I can have my students research global warming, or I could bring them on a trip to show them the effects first-hand.
I would love to have more computers in my class but it would just be nice to have desks that aren't so cracked that they pinch kids' legs when they sit down. I'd love to afford educational posters for my room instead of the handmade ones the students make using faded, worn-out markers on the unused side of a poster board. And I'd like a cabinet to store my things in that I didn't have to personally purchase at Goodwill.
I changed Jody's vote today. She asked me to wait for her to finish voting. I went first, praying that others in Arizona would color in the same line I did. I waited outside for Jody. When she came out, she handed me her business card (she works at a consulting company) and asked me to email her in the fall when I reap the benefits of the 1c sales tax.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Friend #27
Losing one's home must be near the top of the list of worse things that could happen to a family. Today I met Joan, who is going through a foreclosure. Her son is on my son's football team and when I asked her how the end of the school year has gone for her son, she said "Well, we're being foreclosed on right now, so we've been looking for a new neighborhood that will allow him to go to the same school next year." The way she just blurted out "We're being foreclosed on..." surprised me. Five years ago anyone would have been embarrassed to admit they were going to lose their home. Today it seems to happen to everyone. It's devastating and humbling. Joan said that their family is going through so many emotions: Joan and her husband feel they've let their children down and worry about how moving will affect the kids, the kids go between feeling angry, sad, nervous, and trying to be helpful by refusing their allowance.
Joan's husband lost his job with the City of Tempe last year and they've been relying on her nurse's income and her husband's tiny unemployment. She said she admires people who live below their means; it will save them if they ever encounter a family disaster.
I am proud to know that Mike and I live well below our means. We could have a huge home, but we choose not to. We could shop at pricey department stores, but that's a waste of money and resources. I guess I never looked at our "cheapness" as an admirable thing until Joan pointed it out. Before we bought this house, we looked at whether we could afford it if one of us lost our jobs. We could. Money would be tight, but we'd get by.
I'm sad right now for Joan for one reason - she believes that her family needs to stay in the affluent area they're living in now, in order for her kids to retain their neighborhood friendships. I don't know her well enough to suggest that it's not difficult to taxi kids a few extra miles, in exchange for living somewhere a little less expensive. So they will find a rental home in their neighborhood and keep on trying to stay afloat.
Good luck.
Joan's husband lost his job with the City of Tempe last year and they've been relying on her nurse's income and her husband's tiny unemployment. She said she admires people who live below their means; it will save them if they ever encounter a family disaster.
I am proud to know that Mike and I live well below our means. We could have a huge home, but we choose not to. We could shop at pricey department stores, but that's a waste of money and resources. I guess I never looked at our "cheapness" as an admirable thing until Joan pointed it out. Before we bought this house, we looked at whether we could afford it if one of us lost our jobs. We could. Money would be tight, but we'd get by.
I'm sad right now for Joan for one reason - she believes that her family needs to stay in the affluent area they're living in now, in order for her kids to retain their neighborhood friendships. I don't know her well enough to suggest that it's not difficult to taxi kids a few extra miles, in exchange for living somewhere a little less expensive. So they will find a rental home in their neighborhood and keep on trying to stay afloat.
Good luck.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Friend #26
Judy is a new student of mine. She was born in the U.S. but her parents are from Mexico. Judy loves her parents and gets along with them well because they know how to communicate. This is especially great because Judy is a lesbian. She says she's known this since she was 7 years old.
Judy and her mom have such a great relationship and she says it's because her mother has shunned the typical family religious beliefs regarding homosexuality. In fact, Judy has been an agent for change with her entire family just by being herself.
If more families had this amount of acceptance and support for their children, the world would be a much better place.
On the first day that I had Judy in class, a boy from another class was spending time in my class and when he heard she was gay, he said, "Man, if I ever have a kid who's gay I'll whip him with an extension cord - I'll beat it out of him." I have NO patience for ignorance, but knowing that he was probably raised this way, I decided to call him on it. "God hates gays; it's in the Bible", he said matter-of-factly. This is where I got snarky. "Sooo, God supports you drinking alcohol, smoking, having sex, and doing drugs at age 17?" "That's different", he replied.
I knew I was going to blow it and possibly lose my job, so I kindly sent the boy out of my room and went about teaching my class.
The difference between these two students is family acceptance of differences. Uniquenesses. Things that make our children special. Who wouldn't want to celebrate that?
Judy and her mom have such a great relationship and she says it's because her mother has shunned the typical family religious beliefs regarding homosexuality. In fact, Judy has been an agent for change with her entire family just by being herself.
If more families had this amount of acceptance and support for their children, the world would be a much better place.
On the first day that I had Judy in class, a boy from another class was spending time in my class and when he heard she was gay, he said, "Man, if I ever have a kid who's gay I'll whip him with an extension cord - I'll beat it out of him." I have NO patience for ignorance, but knowing that he was probably raised this way, I decided to call him on it. "God hates gays; it's in the Bible", he said matter-of-factly. This is where I got snarky. "Sooo, God supports you drinking alcohol, smoking, having sex, and doing drugs at age 17?" "That's different", he replied.
I knew I was going to blow it and possibly lose my job, so I kindly sent the boy out of my room and went about teaching my class.
The difference between these two students is family acceptance of differences. Uniquenesses. Things that make our children special. Who wouldn't want to celebrate that?
Friend #25
I could never be a police officer. I'm too emotional. I'd pull someone over and either let them go (after hearing a sob story) or I'd kill them (for being a jerk). I admire good cops - the ones who are in the career to make the world better, not to prove they're powerful or better than everyone else.
I met my school's substitute deputy, Rob, who is a very good cop. He loves being around teens who are at-risk for not making good choices. The kids love him because he shows respect for them, even when he has none. He levels with the teens and tell them what the possible consequences are for the choices they are thinking of making. They really listen to him and respect that he's not judgemental. Rob has no children of his own, but would like one or two. He says that this job (being a sheriff's deputy 5 days a week and a school deputy one day) shows him that people can change with a little hope and a good role model.
I met my school's substitute deputy, Rob, who is a very good cop. He loves being around teens who are at-risk for not making good choices. The kids love him because he shows respect for them, even when he has none. He levels with the teens and tell them what the possible consequences are for the choices they are thinking of making. They really listen to him and respect that he's not judgemental. Rob has no children of his own, but would like one or two. He says that this job (being a sheriff's deputy 5 days a week and a school deputy one day) shows him that people can change with a little hope and a good role model.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Friend #24
All night last night I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about my Friend #23 and her mommy. I know so many teenage moms - some who have multiple children before they graduate from high school - and it seems crazy that there's not much I can do to prevent more girls from getting pregnant. I understand that times are changing and it's now acceptable and (gasp, gag) cool to have a baby. So many girls want to get pregnant, think it won't happen to them, or know that their families will help them when they do get pregnant. My school closed its daycare this year, and it hasn't had a negative effect. In fact, I think it was a sort of crutch for some girls who thought, "Eh, if I ever get pregnant, I can still go to my school and get free daycare."
All night I thought about one of my new students - Tina. Tina started at my school because her new boyfriend is a student (when he feels like it.) Tina seems like a good girl with a lot of potential. Unfortunately, she is easily swayed to skip school by her boyfriend. I've seen this many times before: girl meets boy, girl gives up everything for boy, girl and boy skip school, parents ignore this, girl gets pregnant, boy leaves and starts the cycle with new girl.
I had to do what I could to prevent another teen pregnancy.
Today I called Tina's mom. Since enrolling April 22nd, Tina has been absent six days. Gloria (Friend #24, by the way), only knew about one day. My phone calls to parents are supposed to be very general and factual. But I had to go a step further, even if it meant getting reprimanded or offending Gloria.
"Please excuse me if I'm overstepping my boundaries, but I've seen this same thing before. Girls skip school with their boyfriends and end up pregnant," I think I was pleading at this point.
"Oh, I'd kill her if that ever happened," Gloria half-chuckled deep in her throat.
"This is very serious and I can't tell you how many teen pregnancies in my school have started this way. Please talk to Tina about not only skipping school, but giving in to pressure, and protecting herself. I'm sorry for being so blunt, but I'm really concerned." I knew I had to tell my bosses about this conversation before they heard it from someone else in a negative light.
I did, but only after pleading my case first. They were supportive and understood me 100%. Phew!
At 2:30, I got a call that Tina's mom was in the office. She wanted to verify Tina's absences before she confronted Tina later on. I got to meet Gloria face-to-face and she shook my hand and thanked me for caring so much about a student I've only had in class five times. She looked overworked and tired. She sounded worn out. Her aura screamed, "Help!"
She told me that she has two older sons who both had children in high school and ended up dropping out. She doesn't want that for Tina, but doesn't know how to talk to her so she'll listen. I referred her to our counselor to get some tips.
Let's hope that Tina is mature enough to listen to her mom, and wait.
All night I thought about one of my new students - Tina. Tina started at my school because her new boyfriend is a student (when he feels like it.) Tina seems like a good girl with a lot of potential. Unfortunately, she is easily swayed to skip school by her boyfriend. I've seen this many times before: girl meets boy, girl gives up everything for boy, girl and boy skip school, parents ignore this, girl gets pregnant, boy leaves and starts the cycle with new girl.
I had to do what I could to prevent another teen pregnancy.
Today I called Tina's mom. Since enrolling April 22nd, Tina has been absent six days. Gloria (Friend #24, by the way), only knew about one day. My phone calls to parents are supposed to be very general and factual. But I had to go a step further, even if it meant getting reprimanded or offending Gloria.
"Please excuse me if I'm overstepping my boundaries, but I've seen this same thing before. Girls skip school with their boyfriends and end up pregnant," I think I was pleading at this point.
"Oh, I'd kill her if that ever happened," Gloria half-chuckled deep in her throat.
"This is very serious and I can't tell you how many teen pregnancies in my school have started this way. Please talk to Tina about not only skipping school, but giving in to pressure, and protecting herself. I'm sorry for being so blunt, but I'm really concerned." I knew I had to tell my bosses about this conversation before they heard it from someone else in a negative light.
I did, but only after pleading my case first. They were supportive and understood me 100%. Phew!
At 2:30, I got a call that Tina's mom was in the office. She wanted to verify Tina's absences before she confronted Tina later on. I got to meet Gloria face-to-face and she shook my hand and thanked me for caring so much about a student I've only had in class five times. She looked overworked and tired. She sounded worn out. Her aura screamed, "Help!"
She told me that she has two older sons who both had children in high school and ended up dropping out. She doesn't want that for Tina, but doesn't know how to talk to her so she'll listen. I referred her to our counselor to get some tips.
Let's hope that Tina is mature enough to listen to her mom, and wait.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Friend #23
Today I had the most wonderful feeling with my new friend because it involved physical contact of the best kind. Amira is the 7 week old daughter of one of my former students. To me, there is nothing, nothing like holding and snuggling with a newborn. My students know this well, because whenever they bring in their babies to visit, I don't let them go until it's time (for a change, feeding, or time to teach).
Although I didn't have a real conversation with Ms. Amira, I told her how much I hope her future is protected and fair. I hope that her father (who was my student last year and is a nice gentleman) and her mother, can patch up their differences and immature emotions in order to raise Amira with her best interests in mind.
I spoke to Amira's mom about this and at the young age of 16, she knows how stupid she was to have sex at 15, to trust that the boy she was dating at 15 would be the same man she would want to marry later in life. They are not together. In fact, they broke up before she knew she was pregnant. Amira's life has little hope, statistically speaking. Her mother had to drop out of school. Her dad graduated last year, but hasn't gone to college and works a minimum wage job.
If it takes a village to raise a child, Amira will need it. I have no doubts that her mom is and will be a great mother, but she's just a baby herself.
There are so many things I wish teens would learn are bad before it's too late: drug use, alcohol abuse, sex, speeding, and smaller things like not paying attention in school or listening to the lessons our elders try to teach.
Amira - Good luck in life. Be better than the example that has been given to you. And know that I will always be here to snuggle with you.
Although I didn't have a real conversation with Ms. Amira, I told her how much I hope her future is protected and fair. I hope that her father (who was my student last year and is a nice gentleman) and her mother, can patch up their differences and immature emotions in order to raise Amira with her best interests in mind.
I spoke to Amira's mom about this and at the young age of 16, she knows how stupid she was to have sex at 15, to trust that the boy she was dating at 15 would be the same man she would want to marry later in life. They are not together. In fact, they broke up before she knew she was pregnant. Amira's life has little hope, statistically speaking. Her mother had to drop out of school. Her dad graduated last year, but hasn't gone to college and works a minimum wage job.
If it takes a village to raise a child, Amira will need it. I have no doubts that her mom is and will be a great mother, but she's just a baby herself.
There are so many things I wish teens would learn are bad before it's too late: drug use, alcohol abuse, sex, speeding, and smaller things like not paying attention in school or listening to the lessons our elders try to teach.
Amira - Good luck in life. Be better than the example that has been given to you. And know that I will always be here to snuggle with you.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Friend #22
I've always thought that therapy was for uneducated people who didn't know how to read up on their issues and fix them on their own. My parents sent me to therapy when I was in 9th grade so I could have "help" adjusting to their divorce. I quickly took my big brother's advice when he told me to say whatever it was the shrink needed me to say so I could leave sooner. It worked. I sure showed them!
Today I met David, who has fostered 21 at-risk young men. In addition to being married and having four children of his own, he and his wife (they're both social workers - bless them!) have ventured into the art of rehabilitating children who have it bad...real bad.
My ego and I have issues with taking parenting advice from people who don't have children. We prefer that advice-givers walk a mile in my shoes before thinking they know what's best for my children. Given that David has raised 25 children, I was willing to flood him with questions til the cows came home.
Unfortunately, I was the one in the hot seat today. After summoning the courage to raid Border's shelves for books on sibling rivalry - and reading them all - I summoned the courage to reach out and ask a pro for help. David will be my family therapist (he calls himself a "family communication specialist") for a while until I get this boy/fighting/rivalry thing sorted out.
It's bad. I like to tell myself that my siblings and I never fought this way, but I'm pretty sure my little sister has the scars to prove that oh yes, we went there. In fact, my little sister had to be rushed to the hospital because of me when she was about 9 years old. Too bad David wasn't around back then. He would have fixed us. Heck, my sister and I still fight to this day!
David reamed into me pretty hard today. To me, he was taking Mike's side and blaming me: I'm too soft, I'm not showing affection enough, I don't really hear what my kids are mad about. But My Ego and I have decided to part ways for a while. We're calling it a "separation caused by irreconcilable differences". I'm going to listen to all that the Great David has to say to me and hope for the best. It's one thing to listen and get excited about changing my parenting style within the safe confines of David's office, and another to remember the war plan during the battles. Cross your fingers. I'm goin' in.
Today I met David, who has fostered 21 at-risk young men. In addition to being married and having four children of his own, he and his wife (they're both social workers - bless them!) have ventured into the art of rehabilitating children who have it bad...real bad.
My ego and I have issues with taking parenting advice from people who don't have children. We prefer that advice-givers walk a mile in my shoes before thinking they know what's best for my children. Given that David has raised 25 children, I was willing to flood him with questions til the cows came home.
Unfortunately, I was the one in the hot seat today. After summoning the courage to raid Border's shelves for books on sibling rivalry - and reading them all - I summoned the courage to reach out and ask a pro for help. David will be my family therapist (he calls himself a "family communication specialist") for a while until I get this boy/fighting/rivalry thing sorted out.
It's bad. I like to tell myself that my siblings and I never fought this way, but I'm pretty sure my little sister has the scars to prove that oh yes, we went there. In fact, my little sister had to be rushed to the hospital because of me when she was about 9 years old. Too bad David wasn't around back then. He would have fixed us. Heck, my sister and I still fight to this day!
David reamed into me pretty hard today. To me, he was taking Mike's side and blaming me: I'm too soft, I'm not showing affection enough, I don't really hear what my kids are mad about. But My Ego and I have decided to part ways for a while. We're calling it a "separation caused by irreconcilable differences". I'm going to listen to all that the Great David has to say to me and hope for the best. It's one thing to listen and get excited about changing my parenting style within the safe confines of David's office, and another to remember the war plan during the battles. Cross your fingers. I'm goin' in.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Friend #21
George throws parties for a living. His life revolves around creating the perfect celebration for any occasion: weddings, proms, quinceneras or Sweet 16s, awards banquets, corporate events, you name it. A retired, injured military man, George was thrown into this new career by his wife when they couldn't find a party location suitable for his daughter's Quincenera six years ago. His wife suggested they open their own reception hall.
What's unique about George's business (although I can't be positive, because I've never thrown a big party before) is that for a very low price, he provides food, drinks, dessert, a DJ, decorations, and clean-up! He was 1/3 the price of other places I searched out during my quest to find a location for my school's prom this year. We've held prom there before but I was never the organizer.
I am amazed at the quality George provides, but looking at him one would assume he doesn't know anything about color or fabric. George operates his business with the help of his wife, daughter and son. He was tired of feeling lazy after a military injury forced him to retire early.
I suppose being a party planner is much like being a flower delivery person. Except for the occasional funeral delivery, your clients are very happy to see you.
George has stories. Oh, man does he have stories. Like the wedding that was so blended it puts Jamba Juice to shame: a groom and a bride, two ex's on each side, parents of the bride and groom plus THEIR new spouses, half-cousins, step-grandchildren, sisters-in-law, and grandpa's new 27-year-old girlfriend. Oh, and the three-legged dog that escorted the bride down the aisle. No joke. Surprisingly, no cops had to be called that evening.
Police are on George's speed dial, in addition to a contracted security company who George uses almost weekly to provide private security guards.
I am excited to have George host my upcoming prom. For a vet, he really knows what he's doing. My students are stoked about getting dressed up and acting like a grown-up. Let's just hope George doesn't need to use that speed dial.
What's unique about George's business (although I can't be positive, because I've never thrown a big party before) is that for a very low price, he provides food, drinks, dessert, a DJ, decorations, and clean-up! He was 1/3 the price of other places I searched out during my quest to find a location for my school's prom this year. We've held prom there before but I was never the organizer.
I am amazed at the quality George provides, but looking at him one would assume he doesn't know anything about color or fabric. George operates his business with the help of his wife, daughter and son. He was tired of feeling lazy after a military injury forced him to retire early.
I suppose being a party planner is much like being a flower delivery person. Except for the occasional funeral delivery, your clients are very happy to see you.
George has stories. Oh, man does he have stories. Like the wedding that was so blended it puts Jamba Juice to shame: a groom and a bride, two ex's on each side, parents of the bride and groom plus THEIR new spouses, half-cousins, step-grandchildren, sisters-in-law, and grandpa's new 27-year-old girlfriend. Oh, and the three-legged dog that escorted the bride down the aisle. No joke. Surprisingly, no cops had to be called that evening.
Police are on George's speed dial, in addition to a contracted security company who George uses almost weekly to provide private security guards.
I am excited to have George host my upcoming prom. For a vet, he really knows what he's doing. My students are stoked about getting dressed up and acting like a grown-up. Let's just hope George doesn't need to use that speed dial.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Friend #20
I love doctor appointments. For some reason, I enjoy finding out that I'm healthy, or that there's some new theory on aging that lends itself to a new trial of some herb I should start taking, all for the low co-pay of $10. I don't like waiting or getting undressed, however. That part makes me frustrated because I never seem to remember to bring a book and my phone always dies out while I wait.
My new friend is my new nurse. I will be having elective surgery in June and Nurse Heidi is awesome. First of all, she told me to get undressed and left. Before I even had my clothes off, she was back in (there was a partition between me and the door), getting things ready for me. I said, "Uhm, I'm not done, yet." In her nasaly voice she replied, "Yeah, we're kinda fast here. We figure you'd freeze if we waited as long as other doctors do." Sweet!, I thought.
After my exam, Heidi told me I could get dressed again. I was moved to another exam room for Part Two of my visit and she said, "Guess what? I've gotta get you nekked again...are you gonna require me to buy you dinner first?" We laughed and I was put at such ease. She reminded me of my Wendy - open, honest, and true to herself.
I'm sure I told Heidi many times that she rocks, and she seemed to know. I told her that I'd schedule my surgery for June and she told me that she'd make sure she was my nurse that day so she can force me to "get nekked" once more. We laughed some, but she sensed my nervousness. "Oh, honey! If it helps, I'll wear a clown suit on the day of your surgery to make you happy!" It's a deal.
My new friend is my new nurse. I will be having elective surgery in June and Nurse Heidi is awesome. First of all, she told me to get undressed and left. Before I even had my clothes off, she was back in (there was a partition between me and the door), getting things ready for me. I said, "Uhm, I'm not done, yet." In her nasaly voice she replied, "Yeah, we're kinda fast here. We figure you'd freeze if we waited as long as other doctors do." Sweet!, I thought.
After my exam, Heidi told me I could get dressed again. I was moved to another exam room for Part Two of my visit and she said, "Guess what? I've gotta get you nekked again...are you gonna require me to buy you dinner first?" We laughed and I was put at such ease. She reminded me of my Wendy - open, honest, and true to herself.
I'm sure I told Heidi many times that she rocks, and she seemed to know. I told her that I'd schedule my surgery for June and she told me that she'd make sure she was my nurse that day so she can force me to "get nekked" once more. We laughed some, but she sensed my nervousness. "Oh, honey! If it helps, I'll wear a clown suit on the day of your surgery to make you happy!" It's a deal.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Friend #19
In Arizona, very very few people you meet are born and raised here. It's the melting pot of the Southwest. Arizona must be the El Dorado of life changes. This is where young men and women move after college to start their own life, and it's a great place, the Valley of the Sun, because much of it is new and young people run it.
Today I met James, from Alabama. He grew up there and now lives in Tucson although he works in Tempe. He would move to Phoenix but his daughter lives in Tucson with her mother. The major topic of our conversation was about how different people are in Phoenix, than in other parts of the U.S.
People here tend to have little or no patience for older snowbirds. We cringe when winter comes around because we know that the roads will be slower, and restaurants will be filled with eldery eaters. We rejoice when Easter comes around because we know that's typically the date which becons the elderly back home.
I sure hope that when I'm older and lose my ability to drive the speed limit, that the younger people will be more patient with me than I have been with those older than me. Yeah, right.
Today I met James, from Alabama. He grew up there and now lives in Tucson although he works in Tempe. He would move to Phoenix but his daughter lives in Tucson with her mother. The major topic of our conversation was about how different people are in Phoenix, than in other parts of the U.S.
People here tend to have little or no patience for older snowbirds. We cringe when winter comes around because we know that the roads will be slower, and restaurants will be filled with eldery eaters. We rejoice when Easter comes around because we know that's typically the date which becons the elderly back home.
I sure hope that when I'm older and lose my ability to drive the speed limit, that the younger people will be more patient with me than I have been with those older than me. Yeah, right.
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