The Bandit

I always considered myself a dog person. I liked cats, but they weren’t my favorite. They seemed distant and I hated how they got up on the kitchen counters and left hair everywhere. While I lived at my sister’s they acquired a cat. She is quite the character, a very classy young lady.

Dan the Man, despite allergies, is a cat lover. When we got a place on our own, he kept hinting about getting a cat. I wasn’t all that interested because I didn’t want the responsibility. One day, I was won over by our little guy, Bandit.

It was he who made the first move. While looking around at the Pet's Mart adoption center, he began pawing at my pants. He was quite the persistent little fellow. He didn't stop until I squatted down and began petting him. Then he tried to get me to open the cage. Clearly, he had devised a system to get out of the cage. It was evident that he was good at it since his was the only cage with cardboard covering any large openings. Despite his allergies and want of a kitten, Dan the Man agreed to adopt him.

When we brought him home, he was very scared. He ran and hid under the kitchen table and wouldn't come out. I read all of the literature they gave us about bringing home a new cat and put his food bowls near him and the kitty litter, in sight, but far away from his food. Although it took him some time, he finally felt comfortable to let it all hang out. One of his favorite positions to sleep in is on his back. From an aerial view, he looks like he's standing. He'll sleep like this practically anywhere. His favorite spot to lie on his back is in front of the window on a sunny day. ¡Gato tenía que ser!

However, his favorite places to sleep are in bed, particularly between Dan the Man and I. I think they're both going to have withdrawals this coming week since Dan the Man and I will be leaving to El Paso el sábado en la madrugada. Its evident, that he loves no other more than his dad.

No Title

I’ve thought about updating a lot, and I even had titles and entries all ready in my head…I just never made it to the computer. I guess now that I am here; I can touch on all of the subjects I wanted to blog about.

Friday, Dan the Man, my niece, her bf, and I went to see Pirates of the Caribbean and had dinner. I tried to be as pleasant as possible to her bf. I can’t stand the guy. He acts like such a jerk at times. He can be condescending. I really didn’t like him referring to her as “my tard.” He also made fun on me when I said “punch buggie” and because I got a Lonestar. That’s strike number three. The first one was when he tried to explain to me what a graduate degree is. Idiot. My niece knows how I feel about him, but I try to be amiable because of her.

Saturday, I invited my friend MT over for lunch because she’d never really been to my apartment. Actually, the only people who have actually been here besides Dan the Man’s friend with the exasperating wife are my sis and her hubby. Anyway, I told her I’d make shrimp po’ boys because she likes them and I wanted to try out the recipe. Since the closing of Randalls down the street, Kroger thinks they’re the “fancy” supermarket; this is evident in their prices. So I went a little further to Fiesta. I love shopping at Fiesta’s, especially in predominately Latino areas because they play Spanish music, the workers speak Spanish, and they have a huge variety of reasonably priced items. The best part is that I can listen to La Raza with my windows rolled down and not get strange looks.

Yesterday, I made some more Mujeres de Juárez shirts. I never realized how much time I spend on making them. It took me about two and a half hours to make six. I realized this because it was while I was trying to watch my novella, La Fea Más Bella. Also, I made el coraje del año. When I was leaving the gym, for some reason, I walked around the back of my car. When I did, I noticed that some punk ass wrote “BK” on my car in old English lettering with blue marker of some kind. I was so upset. Fortunately, I was able to get it off. Still, I’m seething over it. I can’t believe how disrespectful people are. I think it was done at our apartment complex by one of the little punk kids that hang out with our neighbor. I’m so glad that our lease is up in a couple of months. For now, I’m parking my car in front of my apartment so I can keep an eye on it. I think Dan the Man kept an eye on it last night.

Why does doing the right thing sometimes feels wrong?

I like to think that I’m pretty honest. I’m not very good at lying because my face says it all, all of the time. That’s why when the self checkout machine gave me a hundred dollar bill instead of a twenty, I took it to the girl that oversees them all and traded it in for a twenty. Yeah, I could use the money, but I got nervous since the machine had my debit card info and thought they could somehow trace it all back to me. Since then, I’ve thought so many times, “Que mensa!”

T-shirts

For some reason, I've always been the one that gets quirky t-shirts. Like during the first Gulf War, my bro god me one with a caricature of Sadam that said, "So Damn Insane."

The same brother also got me a shirt of Jesus on the cross trying to push it up and I think it said, "Bench press this!" At the time, I had no idea what that meant, but I wore the shirt. Often times, people would stare and sometimes laugh.

Fast forward about ten years, I started to make my own quirky shirts. I made myself a Frijolera t-shirt after listening to the Molotov song. I also have one that says "Mexican Jumping Beaner" and of course, a "Big Brown Girl" one.

However, in between my "creative creations," I've made some for las mujeres de Juárez. Whatever money we make off them goes to their organization. This week, I was asked to make a couple for an event later today. This time, the creativity kicked in and I decided to make each one different, after all, each one of those young girls was different in her own way. The one in the picture is my favorite.

ESPN vs Univision

In my rancho, these are the only two channels that show the World Cup games. Fortunately, I have access to both of these channels. However, when asked to choose, I prefer watching the games on Univision.

Le ponen mas color. Plus, aren't the commercials awesome? My current favorite is the Coca Cola one where the ice cube jumps out of the cup and is screaming, then he melts and says something like, "Siempre pasa lo mismo."

Any of you guys have a fave?

An aside-I finally figured out how to post a pic, as you can see. Dan the Man says I look funky in that pic because I look disproportioned.

Nervous Energy

Last week, as my sis drove west on I-10, there was this nervous energy about us. We listened to 850 AM until we were out of range. The voices of the soccer commentator only enhanced the energy. When we arrived in San Antonio, the nervous energy only increased. Not only did we get a little lost, there was a lot of traffic near the hotel.

Today, the nervous energy returns. I hope El Tri does its best or I might pull out some of my hair or kick Dan the Man (accidentally of course, can you believe he's still sleeping on such an important day?!)!

Si se puede! Si se puede! Si se puede!

Rain & weekend

Something very bad happened to my computer. I fixed it, but for the time being I don’t have Word and all of my music was deleted. This is yet another instance proving to me that I need to make a switch to Mac.

Anyway, my last couple of days have been good. Class was cancelled today due to the rain. My neighborhood didn’t flood when I went out, but there’s no telling what happened earlier today. There was a truck on the median leaning into the ditch. I tried to take a picture of it, but Dan the Man was being a jerk and erased it. He also put his arm in the way.

Anyway, Thursday was my birthday and it was great. My sis got me a copy of The Adventures of Goat. I think that’s the one of the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received. I also got a retro Super Mario Brothers game for the Gameboy which has caused me a bit of frustration. I’m terrible at video games, but I really wanted this game. My mom also rocked my world with the new Julieta Venegas cd. It’s awesome.

On Friday, I went to the big ranch, AKA San Antonio, with my sis and the ex roomie to see Robert Karimi. His show was awesome and I liked hanging out at Bar America, but I could have done without the jackass server at Blue Star. Anyway, if you haven’t heard of Karimi, I highly recommend checking him out.

Well, I’m out. Home duties need to be tended to.

Help Save El Segundo Barrio

I am incensed after reading the plans to wipe out El Segundo Barrio in El Paso. The more I think and read about it, the angrier I get. It makes me think of historical houses on the North side of downtown. Why don’t they wipe them out? What is so special about them that they can stay pero the south side gets wiped out?

Please, please, please help a sister out and sign it and pass along the info.

Hello everyone,

I am writing to let you know that there are efforts here, spearheaded by developers (the Paso del Norte Group) and politicians, to demolish 128 acres of el Segundo Barrio, the second oldest Mexicano barrio in El Paso, an area of critical importance to Chicano history and a living community. For a hundred years or more, el Segundo has served as the port of entry to thousands of Mexicano immigrants. It was in this barrio that Mariano Azuela published the first great novel of the Mexican Revolution, Los de Abajo. It was in this neighborhood that Teresita Urrea, la Santa de Cabora, lived and healed thousands in the 1890s. The barrio is rich with Mexicana/o and Chicana/o history.

As scholars of Chicano studies, our voices are needed to stop the destruction of the barrio. We have seen this type of destruction before, whether it be Olvera Street in the 1930s or Chavez Ravine in the 1950s. We can't let this keep happening.

Please visit the website of Paso del Sur and help save the barrio. Please spread the word.

http://www.pasodelsur.com/

thanks,
Yolanda Leyva

Divisions, yay or nay?

Yesterday, we had a little extra time before I had to be at Quilty's class. Dan the Man was borrowing my car cbecause his does't have a/c. Since he was going to get gifts for a certain Browngirl's upcoming b-day, I decided he could use my car.

Anyway, we'd gone to the library earlier. I was curious to see what the library in the "ghetto" part of town was like. It was actually much better than the one near us. It was pretty big, and had tons of resources like a computer lab, a good size reference section, a good size children's section, a rather large collection of young adult novels, and computers throughout the library. Dan the Man doesn't understand the concept of sitting in the library reading the books you plan to check out, so we left.

We then went to a carniceria because I was looking for the Gamesa pastries with cards of El Tri's team members, but didn't find any. Since we still had time left, we decided to go to Barnes and Noble. Even though I don't like to buy books from them, I like using their facilities to read and write. I think of it as a private library.

Yesterday, their Latino Studies shelves seemed emptier than usual. There were only two shelves with the classics: Richard Rodriguez, Victor Villaseñor, Julia Alvarez, Denise Chaves, Judith Ortiz Cofer, Piri Thomas. After browsing the shelfs, I asked myself: Is it better that the Latino themed titles be seperated or would it be better to put them under their subject area?

I san see the plusses on both sides of the issue, but I still can't answer my question. What do you guys think?

Soccer

Mexico juega hoy. I can’t wait. I don’t know if I should go to the gym and watch the game there. It would give me something to do, but then I might get upset and kick something or worse yet, someone. You should have seem me the day the spelling be was on and the kid from Houston lost. I didn’t hurt anything or anyone, but you were able to hear a “Damn!”

I don’t really follow soccer until these major games. My problem, as with hockey, is that I like so many players, that I just can’t choose one team to follow. Therefore, I like when they have events such as the World Cup, because then they have many of the players that I like. Although, this time they didn’t take Paco Palencia.

Do you guys remember that year that Mexico beat Brazil at La Copa FIFA Confederaciones? Oh man, that was the best year ever. I had an outfit that I wore for the games. It was some mismatched thing: a black t-shirt (I think it was an old Levis t-shirt) and some white shorts with red pinstripes. I used to hide it on the top shelf of my closet in the crate that held my purses. I was convinced that it was because I was wearing that getup that they had made it. I wish I had my little getup today; I’d definitely be sporting it today.

With a Little Help From Your Friends

Necesito ayuda. It seems that no matter what songs I have on my MP3 player while I'm at the gym, I get bored. Thus far, the only songs that seem to keep me moving one of the Selena songs from her live concert and Carnaval by Celia Cruz.

Anyway, since many of you are music connoisseurs, I figured I'd ask for your help. What songs get you moving?

And you said you had nothing to say...

I don’t necesarilly have anything to blog about. I do need to say where I copied and from whom in my last post. I copied from: Spelling with Flicker and from MsABC.

The last couple of days I was engulfed in Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons. I think it would have been cool to see this book as a movie. But like Dan the Man said, “You never know, since The DiVinci Code did so well.”

Of course, like a loving partner, here I am wondering, “Did The DiVinci Code do very well?”

I was stuck in GT (Gifted and Talented) Training all of last week. I doodled, read, and worked on the puzzles they gave us most of the time. It just seems like after the first day, none of the information was new. That’s sort of like that damn Generic Teaching Strategies class I’m taking now.

Everyone that’s had this professor has complained about her. When she gave us our syllabus last week, some people in the class just about fainted because we have something due every day except for two days. Up until now, all of our classes had been a joke. I mean, if graduate classes were as easy as ATCP makes it for us, everyone would have a masters.

Anyway, people were bitching and moaning to no end. I was fine with it. I mean, I have easy street with the other prof and then this one; it’s a pretty good balance. Besides, I’m not working so it makes it easier to get stuff done (unless of course, I’m enthralled in some book at the moment).

However, the thing that drives me crazy is that she makes us print an endless amount of handouts and then goes through them on the overhead in class. I mean, really, why not just add that to the reading material and save us that crap. I can read and comprehend. Plus, I’ve found that all this education stuff, its repetition half the time or it’s something that you already know about, but someone just gave it a name.

So she uses up five hours of my day going over all this crap, telling lame stories, and freaking me out with her voice. It goes from high to low without warning. It’s quite creepy. I am very curious about her as a person. I figure she must be pretty religious since she is working for a Catholic college. Also, I don’t believe she has any kids; but I have a feeling she fills her days with activities such as quilting. She always wears a jacket made out of quilting fabric. Thus far, she’s had a different one each day, but I’ve only seen her twice. I don’t know what else takes up her time, perhaps that’s why she keeps us up until the very last second. Anyway, I better stop; I will learn something from her.

Last thing, I know I said I didn’t have anything to say, but I just thought of this stuff. You know that if you have a Gmail account, you can set up a personalized Google page right? Well, on mine, I have links to NPR stories because thanks to my sister & ex-roomie, I’m addicted to it. But since I don’t have to wake up early, I’m not in the car to listen to Morning Edition or All Things Considered, so I use my Google page to keep up with the news.

I was delighted to see a story on Michelle Serros’ new novel. It’s a young adult novel. I suppose I’ll have to look into adding this to my classroom collection. If you have a chance, check out the story.

Well, I guess since I’m up, I should head out to the gym. Maybe I’ll make it back in time to complain about the Great Day Houston host.

I copied too

Se acabo

It’s early afternoon on a weekday and I’m home. I’m done. No more lessons, no more books, no more students’ dirty looks.

Yesterday, when the kids left, it felt like any other day. I don’t think it’s started to sink in that when they come back next year, they won’t be in my class anymore. I don’t know though, I mean, maybe I got myself used to the idea that they wouldn’t be my kiddos forever. I think maybe if I had one class of kids all day, I would have bawled my eyes out. But they didn’t cry and I didn’t cry. Some of them got hugs and I signed everyone’s paper, notebook, or yearbook. I tried to make it personal to each one. I guess I’ve accepted as territory that comes with the job.

I’m really looking forward to next year. I’ve learned so much from the kids I had this year, and I know that next year, I’m going to have a much better start.

I’m excited that I’ll have more time to blog and stuff. This morning on my way to school, I felt so relaxed. I mean, I have some things that I’m worry about right now, but it’s nice to not have to think about work for a while.

The Guys and I

Since the sixth graders got the highest test scores out of all the grades, they were rewarded by a swimming trip to the nearby YMCA. But because of hormones and lawsuits, girls and boys go on different days. The way it turned out, I got put on the chaperone list for the boys. So today and tomorrow, I will spend the day with the boys in my homeroom and my buddy teacher’s homeroom class.

Because half the teachers would be gone, we would have to remain in homeroom until sixth period (which today was at 11:15 AM). To pass the time, I showed them the end of Selena.

It turned out quite nice because after the movie, we did end up having a short discussion. Most of them had seen the movie already and helped answer questions for those who had. We talked a little about Saldívar and what would happen to her if she came out of jail. It was a quite fruitful discussion.

Tomorrow should be a lot of fun for them. It’ll be cool to see them enjoying themselves. After all, they definitely earned it.

The Adventures of Ms. Baeza & Goat

School is over on Wednesday for the kids and Thursday for me. I’m excited but I hate having to pack all my junk because summer school will be held in our building. I’ve received so many thoughtful cards and drawings from my students. It’s quite an accomplishment for me to see how much they have learned. I think my first year out of college hasn’t been in vain and I’ve done pretty well.

We’re spending the last couple days watching Selena. The kids seem to really be enjoying it. I wish I had more time to discuss it with them. She was so much like them. I’m sure that they get that and I would love to hear what they have to say.

The Adventures of Goat

My entire life I have been surrounded by books. I had tons of them when I was a kid. My oldest sister started the collection and everyone else continued it. Some of my favorites were My Little Golden Books. The other day, I was browsing in an antique shop, when out of the corner of my eye; I caught the glimmer of the spine of a Little Golden Book. I immediately walked over to the bookshelf and rummaged through them. They had a copy of the very edition of Goldilocks and the Three Bears that I had.

One of my fondest memories is of my mom reading to me. My mom worked a lot while I was growing up, so when I was a kid, having alone time with my mom was sort of a luxury. One of my favorite things for her to do with me was read to me. All of my books were in English, and even though my mom couldn’t read it, she managed to tell me a story. If she didn’t know the story, she used the pictures to guide her.

One of the stories that she did not know was The Adventures of Goat. According to her, it was about a goat that leaves the farm because he is artist and one of his portraits is entered into a contest. What I remember the most is when the goat is boarding the bus and turns to his farm buddies and says, “Pero voy a volver!”

I used to laugh so much at that for some reason. I don’t know if it was the slurred deep voice that she said it in or the way she hung her hand attempting to imitate a hoof and waved goodbye to me. In any case, I’ve spent much time looking for this book. I never knew the title of the book until I put my Google skills to good use.

Thus far, I think I’ve found the right book. I’ve tried to locate a picture of it, but it doesn’t really look like the one I had. Of course, editions change over the years. I guess the only way to really find out is to order it.

A Year Ago...

Yesterday, I graduated.

That is all.

Ecstatic

Okay, so TAKS scores are in, and although I hate the idea of teaching to the test, I'm really happy that out of my 61 students, 58 passed. For a brand new teacher, I think that's pretty good.

But that's not the only thing that's got me smiling from ear to ear. This morning I recieved the following e-mail:

We talked about you in 1st/2nd period. And J, M, and G spoke highly of you!

You are cool and you have a genuine attitude towards classwork.
They enjoy joking and working at the same time.

That is an awesome compliment! I do not think German is even in your class???

Hope this adds a little sunshine to your day!

On top of that, I made it to the Orchestra concert earlier this evening and this one kiddo I'd been having some trouble with said, "Miss, you remember our concert!"

Then she turned to another kid and said, "She even wrote it on her calander. Now that's a teacher."

It's hard to believe that nine months ago, I didn't even want to go into work. I had knots in my stomach every morning thinking about work. Lunch was some crappy snack food or crackers because I couldn't stomach a real meal.

An Introvert Reflects

I didn’t realize how long I’ve been gone. I feel like a distant observer in Blogatitlan. I read so many people’s journals but hardly ever leave comments. Maybe it’s because I say so much every day, I feel like I’m being redundant.

I have a bit more introverted than usual the last couple of weeks. I’ve been reflecting on mostly work. It’s almost the end of the year, I’m excited and then I’m sad. This morning, as I lay in bed soothing the pain in my heel, I thought about the beginning of the school year. I was so nervous that I couldn’t eat. I was shaky and kept thinking, “This is really it.”

Then I thought about next year, and I got really excited. I know I won’t be as nervous and I’ll have a much better plan. I wasn’t one of those people that kept a written running list of all the things I did wrong. Instead, I made mental notes. When I think back, I remember the exact moment and cause of my wrong doing.

Next year, I’ll introduce myself to all of them before they walk into my class. Instead of the word puzzle packets, we’ll do some kind of ice breaker activity after all that paper work. And, I’ll be able to attend Tiger Camp, the sixth grade informational meeting for the kids. It’ll also be cool because I’m sure I’ll have a couple of kids from this year go by to say hello or bug me.

At the same time, I’m saddened that I won’t have some of the same kids. Yesterday, during a meeting, a fellow teacher asked, “Do you joke around with all your classes? Don’t you find that you can’t do that with all of them?”

“No,” I said.

And really, I do joke with all of them. I may have a little turd here or there, but I’m not going to let them stop the other kids from having a good time. I have some very depressed kids with really crappy home situations and they need to laugh somewhere.

In other news, my nephew is well. Thanks to all of you for your concern. He’s back at school and the kids that beat him up were sent to an alternative school. His mother has been taking and picking him up from school like she should have been doing a long time ago.

Lastly, I’ve kept up the gym thing. I gained a lot of weight this year and with the help of many people, I’ve been able to keep up the gym thing. Yesterday, I played racquetball twice. Once with the people from work and the other with Dan the Man. It’s quite fun because I’m so bad at it that I run around like a crazy person. I did a kickboxing class the other day, too. That was like hell, but it was great.

When I’m doing my cardio, I see all sorts of people pass by; and of course, because I’m so nosey/observant, I examine everyone. I mostly like to read t-shirts. But some of the people really inspire me. But I find that the guys inspire me the most. In particular, the ones that work out on the weight machines and make it look so damn simple. That’s what’s made me try some of those hellish machines that leave me weak in the arms/legs/abs and make me feel like I’m the biggest bad ass ever.

Well, I’m off. I have to change the songs on my MP3 player, and head out to the gym. Later, I’m going to the eye doctor and the Latino Book Festival.

It's over!

I was so relieved to hear the 3:45 PM bell today. After spending days locked up in a room getting only 45 minutes to myself, I was ready to be back on our regular schedule. I was giddy with excitement thinking that I won’t have to tell kids to read, stop talking, turn around, or what time it is. Next week, we’re exploring poetry in the form of corridos, haiku, and limericks to name a few.

In my quest to be a medium brown girl, I joined a gym last week. I’ve been working out almost every day. Well, except for Easter because it was closed and the day my heel was killing me. Anyway, as an employee of the school district, I get a huge discount on membership, as do some of my colleagues. I usually run into two of them. Today, we planned to attend the Salsa class. It was actually quite fun, and I managed to look like I was kinda dancing. Have a mentioned before that I’m a horrible dancer? That could be another reason people think I’m a gringa.

It’s not all fun and games though. On Wednesday night, I received some horrifying news. My nephew, Richard, a sixth grader at a school in El Paso, got beat up by seven kids on Tuesday afternoon. He was trying to be chivalrous because some kid was pinching his girlfriend’s breasts. So he confronted the kid and they ended up meeting after school. Well, the kid took his friends and they all joined in on the fun. Richard passed out and didn’t wake up for a while. He’s got some bruising of the brain and yesterday he told me his face looks funny and his head hurts a lot.

I tear up thinking about the whole thing. I work so hard to keep my kiddos safe. If I know that they’re talking about fighting someone, I’m on them. I tell the counselor or another teacher. I watch them as the go from class to class because they don’t have all the skills to deal with problems rationally. I’m not saying his teachers had to do this. His mom could have helped out by getting off her lazy ass to take him to and from school. But I digress.

I hope you all are having a good week.

Wha?

A couple months ago, during one of my post-observation meetings, my faciliatator, said to me, "I think you're a great teacher and you have so much to offer to your students, but I'm afriad the harsh reality of the classroom is going to push you away."

At that moment, I thought, "Hah, you're crazy!"

But her words resonated in my ears this morning when the principal came on the intercom this morning and said, "We want SJ to be recognized! Do your best today!"

It took me back to my Wal-Mart days. It gave me a sick feeling in my stomach. Yeah, our kiddos have to produce, but not in this way. It further upset me that at 3:15 kids were sent to their 5th period class and we're expected to teach. What the heck are they thinking? You force a kid to sit for six hours and test, then read, and you don't allow them to go outside, stand up, or breathe and then you want them to go to a class at the end of the day to learn?

I took my class outside and we played Red Rover. All anyone talks about is TAKS, it's over now, so of course the kids think school is out. I think I'm up for a couple of challenging weeks. However, I think they might actually be fun. Goodbye TAKS prep packets hello Literature and Writing.

In other news, my heel is killing me. I decided to do something good for me and join the gym and either the walking around all day or the working out has irked something in my heel. It hurts like a mother to walk and at times, I get these excrutiatingly painful throbs.

I hope everyone had a happy Easter and/or Passover. I'm off to look for poetry lessons for the last couple of weeks.

Immigration & Little League

You all know about wearing white on Monday, not purchasing anything, and being encouraged not to show up to work or school, right? I'm showing up to work because I'm a square like that, but I am wearing white and not purchasing anything (I must say, the purchasing thing will be difficult because I usually eat dinner w/ my co-worker & classmate because we have class on Monday night.)

Anyway, my sis and I were talking about this the other night because she was asking if I was going to any of the protests. It gets a little hairy because my commitment is to the kids not the education system. On our trip to "teacher happy camp," I had a conversation with one of the other fellow Latina teachers. She wasn't aware that there were only about four Latino teachers on staff and fewer African Americans. I think it really opened her eyes.

So when I think about it, I feel like I'm doing more by actually going to work. I submitted this week's headlining article with my lesson plans. I didn't get them back yet. We're still reading it on Monday, regardless.

On Monday, when I asked them to write about their weekend in their journal, A.T. told me all about opening day and getting the game ball. I asked about his team and what position he played. Friday a few minutes before the bell for the end of homeroom rang, he said, "Ms. will you go to my game later?"

At the end of the day, all I wanted was to come home and sleep. Since getting over my cold, I haven't had the sleeping effects of medicine and so I don't get to fall asleep until very late. Pair that up with feeling dizzy and weak b/c of the nasty salad the night before and you'll get one tired me who didn't want to go to this game.

However, Rachel Ray was making ballpark food, and I knew this kid would be waiting for me to show up, besides what's two hours. So come six o'clock, I headed toward the general direction of where he said his game would be. After weaving through some neighborhoods, I found the park.

I was a little shy about showing up. It's mostly parents that go to these things. How would I look showing up there. I don't even know this kid's parents. After watching the little girls eat ice cream as the jump on a trampoline in the backyard of the houses that lined one side of the park, I gained enough courage. The only thing I kept thinking was that I'd made a commitment to this kid.

After a couple plays, he saw me and alerted A.S., the pitcher and another one of my students, that I was in the stands. They both looked at me and smiled. Later, another one of my students came to the bleachers and looked as if he'd seen the most amazing thing in the world. "Ms. Baeza! What are you doing here?"

After I told him, I inquired about his game. He was playing after the game we were currently watching. I told him I'd stay to watch him too. As more of his teammates showed up, more kids asked his same question. They would go run around and come back to sit with me while I watched the game. When shocked kid's mom showed up, he whispered to her that I was there and that I would be staying to watch his game, too.

It was so nice to see them outside of school, doing the things they love. I felt like I do when I read their journals, honored, that they would share this part of their life with me.

Overdue Update

I know, I owe you guys. I owe you about a million entries, but you’re going to get one, a long one. Unless of course, I mess something up so bad that I need to come back and add it.

WPA Conference

It was pretty awesome. I went to most of the Con Tinta events. I was actually at the one on Thursday night. The most exciting part of the night besides being greeted by Alicia Gaspar de Alba and chatting with Rolando Hinojosa was seeing Matthew McConaughey. He was eating dinner with some buddies on the patio. Fortunately, we ended up having dinner there and got a table in the patio adjacent to his. When he walked through the lobby (where were sitting) from the restroom to his table, we all just about fainted.

Anyway, this Con Tinta stuff is pretty cool. Rich was awesome for looking through the program and hooking us up with the Latino events so that we could go and support each other. It was cool to have to choose between a couple of events instead of having only one option. I would encourage any of you writers to attend. Just like the protests for immigration, we need the Latino voice to be heard in places like this. Anyway, I’m sure you all know how I feel about certain top selling authors.

Capturing Kid’s Hearts

I got sent to this training in Podunk, Texas. Okay, it was really Round Top, those of you who don’t know Texas, it’s just outside of Brenam, which is near College Station (home of Texas A&M), which is just outside of Austin. So really, it’s in the middle of nowhere.

Anyway, we got to stay at this Christian Retreat. It was a huge chunk of land with about four farm houses. We got to stay in the biggest one. It was a really nice house. My room had a door to the balcony and bunk beds. The décor was country-style. They had a little pond with fish and the porch on the first floor had about a million rocking chairs.

The training was pretty good. When I got back on Friday, I had students running up to my room to see if I had turned into one of the “nice” teachers.

TAKS

I’ve been busy because I had that training and I’ve been lagging three days. TAKS is only a two short weeks away and yesterday we got the “talking to.” I seriously don’t get what these legislators are thinking. I mean, how can I increase the percentage of kids passing TAKS when I don’t have the same kids as I did last year, but I digress. If I’m absent, this is why.

Immigration Protests

So there have been protests going on. Our school is freaking out that our kids are going to protest. They keep talking about it and the kids are like, “What protests Ms.?”

It comes down to an issue of safety. I’m not against the protest, heck, had I known, I would have been there. But these kids, the ones I teach, they have no idea. If they protested, I’d be upset because they would make us look like dumbasses. Anyway, I’m doing a lesson on the whole issue. I’m getting the ones that want to, to write letters and sending them off. I think we might have a debate in class on this issue.

Day 3

It’s day 3 of Spring Break. Funny how I’d be wishing it was Friday if it were any other week. At least when I get back, I work one full week and I'm off to "the camp that will change my life and make me nice." (The entire staff has been signed up to do a three day training in Round Rock, TX.) But after that, it's nose to the grindstone time. We don't have much longer until TAKS.

I'm heading out to Austin tomorrow. I'll be attending the WPA (Writers and Poets Association) conference. It should be fun. A lot of Latino faces will be there.

I suppose I should get back to cleaning. We're trying to get the place all spic and span before we head out to the park to fly kites. Monday we went to the zoo and it was one of the best days I've had in a long, long time. Anyway, foaming bubbles are waiting to be scrubbed onto the bathtub.

Mala

What channel will the Grannies or Oscars or whatever the heck is going to be on TV tonight be on? I’m guessing it will probably be ABC so I’m going to have to miss my Grey’s Anatomy. The bastards.

Well, Spring Break has turned out to be quite eventful. I woke up at 2:00 AM Saturday morning needing to drain the turtle and freezing half to death even though I was wrapped in two blankets. Two hours later, I woke up burning up, even though said blankets were on the opposite side of the bed. Yep, I got sick, majorly sick. I guess that’s what happens to for saying, “Nope, haven’t used that insurance yet. I haven’t gotten sick at all this year.”

It wasn’t until today that I could fathom the thought of ingesting anything food-like. Now, I’m dying to eat bread. Not any bread, a bolillo with a crispy crust. It seems like that’ll make my stomach finally feel okay. Earlier, I was craving chicken breast with rice and some kind of green vegetables, but I think I’ve waited too long. I’m heading out to Kroger in a few in search of the perfect meal for the sickling. The only good thing that has come out of it is that I’ve slept. I think I was awake for a total of two hours yesterday. The rest of the day was spent either clinging or fighting with the blankets dreaming about saving the youth of American with an IKEA duvet.

P.S. I blame all this sickness on the fact that I asked someone to get me a six pack of Lonestar and instead, they bring home a six pack of Keystone Light.

Spring Break and Acts of Cuteness (?)

This afternoon, the faculty vs. students game, kicked off our Spring Break. Boy was I excited to get out of dodge. I got home at about 4:30, I haven’t been home that early in forever. I hardly knew what to do with myself. I turned on the T.V. and passed out for about two hours. I still think I need to go pick up a six pack of Lonestar to celebrate.

Today, my cool friend M., asked me to cover her class for the last five minutes or so because she had to see the doctor before she skipped town. I arrived ten minutes before students were released and low and behold, the handsome young man was in there.

The handsome young man and I have developed a sort of interesting relationship. He manages to stop by my class about two or three times a day to say “hi.” He always walks in and says, “Heelllooo.” He sounds a lot like a Tele Tubby when he says this.

The other day, I was joking with him and told him that I was quitting after spring break. He quickly replied, “But you can’t! Not until the end of the year!”

“Who said that? I can quit at any time.”

“Let me see your paperwork!”

“I don’t have any paperwork.”

“Who’s going to be our teacher then?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I guess some sub.”

“But Ms! Can I give you a hug then?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re retiring!”

“Maybe after school.”

Well, ever since Thursday, he’s been coming back after school, to claim a hug.

So anyway, he was very happy to know I was going to watch the class. As soon as he heard me speak, he turned around in his chair and said, “Ms. Baeza! Come watch me play!” (This was a Tech. Applications class and playing on the computer is part of the curriculum.)

After they turned off the computers and were standing around waiting for the bell to ring, he invited me to sit next to him at the basketball game. I didn’t because I had to stand around and watch, make sure no one was up to any funny business. He did get his hug at the end of the day though.

During morning detention, another one of my students invited me to the skating rink. When I said I didn’t know how to skate, he quickly said, “I’ll teach you!”

And during our third period conference, I went to help my mentor and another fellow teacher practice shooting hoops for the game. The 6th grade girls came out of the locker room and one of them lunged herself at me and wrapped her arms around me squealing, “Ms. Baeza!”

It’s so funny that at the beginning of the year I was so afraid of them. I thought they were going to eat me up alive. Now, I have issues thinking about being away from them during vacations and my three day out of town training. My mentor said to me the other day, “Oh, you wait until the end of the year. You’re going to cry.”

Chick Flick Dreams

Last night, I had a dream that I was the star of a chick flick. Everyone in the movie was white. I think I may have been white too. I can’t say for sure because I was seeing it through my eyes.

The movie was about this girl who can’t make up her mind between two guys. There’s the one guy who is the good guy. He loved her with all his heart, but eventually, he got tired of the way she treated him. It was at this time that my character falls in love with him. However, it’s way too late because he asked the perfect, goody two shoes blonde, to marry him.

Then there was the other guy who has financial promise, but he’s sort of an ass and not as handsome. He proposes to my character, and she says no, but he tells her to keep the ring and think about it.

At the end of the movie, my character is at the wedding of the guy she loves and the perfect woman. At the wedding reception, the younger sister of either the girl is shooting hoops in her bridesmaid dress and everyone is shouting, “Go Squirrel!”

My character is eating a piece of pie feeling sorry for herself. Someone sets on fire the binder that contains all of the secrets of these girls (there was like four of them). The perfect girl, who’s wearing a simple cotton dress for a wedding dress, says she needs to get some joints out of her purse to burn in the fire. One of the other girls is watching my character eat the pie and says, “I loved him too.”

And the other character, who sort of looks like the lesbian friend on Roseann, is saying that she’s hoping to get transferred to Virginia (she’s a teacher), but the school secretary won’t let her.

At this point, I woke up, but fell back asleep and the dream continued.

Before the final credits start running, there are those freeze shot scenes that tell you what happens after the action. There’s a song in the background, but I can’t remember what it is. Anyway, lover boy and perfect girl end up happily ever after. Squirrel makes the basketball team, becomes some sort of All Star player. The chick that wants to move to Virginia doesn’t. And my character, she ends up with the ass.

I wake up again and force myself back to sleep. I want to change the ending.

The chick that was in love with lover boy ends up with the ass.

This is where the dream ends. I couldn’t break apart the perfect couple because somehow, it would ruin it. It would be too much like every other chick flick. And so, I’ve decided, I should never attempt to write a chick flick.

It's All in the Way You Say It

The horrid TAKS test is coming up, and since our school's budget and the teacher bonus depends on scores from this exam, we have all sorts of help for the kids. We hae the pull-outs in which certain students are taken out of their Math, LA, or elective class to practice TAKS strategies. We have what my mentor calls "The Giant Fairy" which is known schoolwide as KBL (Knowledge Baseball League). Homerooms go up against each other in Math and LA. We will eventually have a World Series, but we also have a door, locker and scavenger hunt competition. Finally, there are the extended days. Math stays after school three or four days a week. LA does three Saturdays before TAKS, 8-noon.

Last week, I had to hand out the letters to my students who I though needed the extra help. The day before I did this, I had an observation with my mentor. Before she read Ch. 3 of Face on the Milk Carton, she said, "I have given some of you a letter for Reading Extended Day. I need you to take it home and bring it back signed by your parent. It's going to be a lot of fun. We will be playing games and you will be getting candy every time you switch classes. And at the end of the day, we will have gym time and the teachers will be playing games with you."

"What kind of games?"

"Any kind of game you want. We'll have basketballs and pretty much all the gym equipment."

"What about wrestling," asked another student.

"Oh honey, don't even try because we'll beat you. Right Ms. Baeza?"

"That's right."

"I want a paper," one kid said.

"I'll have to put you on a waiting list."

"Put me on the waiting list too," said another kid.

The following day, when I handed out my Extended Day letters, I put to use my mentor's tactic. I had a similar response from my students. There were about five kids that wanted on the waiting list in each class.

During our ELA meeting, the racist said her students were complaining about getting a letter. My mentor quickly responded, "Not mine. Georgina saw, right?"

"Yep. I did the same thing with mine and they were asking to be put on 'the waiting list.'"

When academics are competing against entertainment industry, it's important how you say things. Of course, they're going to be learning, but it's going to be fun. If we have to take away a Saturday because these kids aren't drawn into studies to begin with, making it fun is our job.

The Lies

Back in December, I found out that one of my “Katrina” kids was an orphan. She lives with foster parents. I found this out because the day before we went on vacation, one of the coaches sent a kid up to my room with a gift for her. The gift had no name or anything. The kid, who brought it, secretly told me that the coach didn’t want my Katrina kid to know who had sent it, to simply say it was from Santa. When they announced that it was time to go to homeroom class, I called her over to my desk and gave her the gift. She didn’t ask any questions, she just took the gift and sauntered on out of my room.

When I took my homeroom class into the gym to watch the Orchestra concert, the kids sat on the bleachers so I was able to converse with other teachers who were standing on the sidelines. The coach was in there. She asked me if I’d given the present to the kid and asked if she’d liked it. I told her she didn’t open it in front of me. In fact, I saw her put it in her locker after she left my class.

“She talks to me a lot. Sometimes she comes to my office and she talks and talks. She lost her parents. You know that she lives with foster parents? They have a lot of kids and there is always a lot of noise around.”

So when coach had asked her what she wanted for Christmas and she said, “Something to listen to my music on.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know Coach, one of those CD Players. The ones with the headphones.”

Fast forward to Valentine’s Day, we were sitting around after we’d read the novel. I think the kids were working on some kind of activity. Katrina kid sits right by my desk. I was sitting at my desk grading and she says, “Ms. whatcoo making for dinner?”

“Steaks I think.”

“Mmmm, I love steaks. You know, my mom defrosted some but she ain’t make ‘em. She said she was too lazy. Can you save me a steak?”

“I’ll try.”

"You know, I’m an only child. And my mom always says she ain’t got nothing for me for Valentine’s Day and when I get home she always has a surprise for me.”

Last week, on the mock writing exam, she turned in an essay that talked about her mom, dad, brother, and sister leaving Louisiana.

I’d like to believe that she was telling the coach the truth and lying to me, but it’s hard to tell.

El Paso

I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before somewhere, but it’s been on my mind lately and I have to write about it. Last night, I was procrastinating my work duties. I felt entitled to it though. I woke up at the butt crack of dawn to take my PPR. I was done in about two hours, but it still doesn’t negate the fact that I’d been freaking out about it all week. I think all went well, though.

Anyway, I was messing around on Yahoo playing games and junk when this guy contacts me via the messenger thing. Turns out, he’s from El Chuco. I was amused because I don’t get to talk to many Paseños these days. It was interesting that he said he prefers San Antonio. It brought back all these memories.

When I used to live in El Paso, all I wanted was out. I wanted to get the farthest away as possible. During my high school years, my friends and I all made plans about how we were going to leave as soon as we graduated. One of us was going to Texas A & M, another to Texas Tech, and me, well, my sister had put out the invitation to Houston. We were going to help each other move and we would all meet up for Spring Break.

When I graduated, all that became well just talk. Most of us ended up at EPCC (El Paso Community College), the lucky ones at UTEP, and the really unlucky ones, well working for the man. Years passed and still, all I could think about was getting the heck out of there someday. Then there came that day that I got the e-mail from my sister, once again, extending her invitation. I knew it was “now or never,” so without thinking about it further, I said yes and started making plans to leave.

A couple months later, I was beyond eager to leave. I couldn’t wait for the summer to end; I made it my personal goal to leave by the 4th of July weekend. Never mind that school didn’t start until late August, I needed to leave before to get things in place. Thinking back now, I don’t know what the hurry was. I like to think that I was dying to get out of Hell Mart.

It’s been about three and half years now, and I wish I could go back. It took me leaving to realize that my hometown wasn’t El Craphole. It’s so rich in many things. Yes, things are much different there. In some ways, life is slower, in other ways, life is much harder, but you can’t deny that the place has personality, lots of it.

Sometimes, I think the saddest thing is that no one really cares. Many of us, who have left and “made” something of ourselves, dream and think about going back, but we never will. We’ll extend a hand to someone else in hopes that they’ll make something of themselves and go back and help out our fellow Paseños. Me, well, I’ll continue to teach these kids that go to a school a lot like mine, but I’ll probably never go back and help out the kids that go to the school I went to.

Are You Going to a Quinceñera?

Last Thursday, I wore a skirt to work for the first time. Since I have tattoos on my ankles, I shy away from capris, guachos, and skirts since it is school policy to not show tattoos. However, I felt real macha that day, not to mention, I got a pair of free panty hose in the mail and that was the day I was going to see Dolores Huerta and the Guerrilla Girls, so I risked the balls of my feet and wore my boots with a skirt.

The kids were shocked. Some of them walked in and were like, “Ms. you’re taller today.” Others walked in and just stared. One mentioned to his neighbor that I looked nice which he immediately reported to me and the rest of the class. During the last period of the day, there was a lone student who inquired, “Ms. are you going to a quinceñera today?”

It was amazing to see Dolores Huerta. I was giddy with anticipation the entire day. I couldn’t believe that after two cancellations, I was finally going to see her. Sadly, I didn’t get to be there for the entire session because the Guerrilla Girls would be taking the stage across campus at 7:30. My sis, ex roomie, and I all agreed that we should have ditched the Guerrilla Girls and stayed at the Dolores Huerta event. In retrospect, even though I didn’t get to hear her entire lecture, I’m just glad to have seen her.

A similar thing happened when Rigoberta Menchú was giving a lecture. I had to miss it because I had to be in a math class that I would be dropping later that week. However, that weekend, I attended LASA in Dallas selling books for the press. I went up to the room to get something and when I came out of the elevator, right in front of me, all alone, was Menchú. We looked at each other and smiled, and then a group of people consumed her with questions and requests as I walked off the elevator. Even though there wasn’t an exchange of words, it was cool to see her like that.

I am rather excited because this week, my students and I will embark on a literary journey. We will be reading The Watsons Go to Birmingham—1963. Being that it is Black History month, I think that this book is very appropriate. I would love to have them read Y No Se Lo Trago La Tierra or something of the like, but I’m taking baby steps at la escuelita. I’m going to be doing an in depth study with them about the context of this novel. Luckily, I found this neat magazine on Civil Rights at the library and it has a ton of information on 1963. I’ve even downloaded some of the songs that were cool at the time to play for them. I hope they enjoy it.

Day off

Today was one of those teacher waiver days. That just means that if there’s some kind of training we need, this would be the day to do it. The thing about these days is that the trainings only really take 30-40 minutes and we’re left to our own demise the rest of the day. The only stipulation is that we have to stay on campus. Well, we were fortunate enough to have to day off. I’ve done nothing that useful.

I did my homework and graded a big pile of papers. I also managed to read a couple more chapters of Inkheart. I would love nothing more that to stay in and read. Or put a chair on the balcony and read the rest of the afternoon, but I have that class to attend tonight. If all goes well, we should be out by no later than 7:30.

I really don’t have much else to say. I hate having so many bitchy posts. For now, I'm off to do more reading until I have to get to class.

What's Going on in Houston:

(Please excuse the breaks)

Kicking around Houston 1836Soccer team sends the wrong message to Latinos
By RAÚL A. RAMOS

By naming the team Houston 1836, the newly arrived Major League Soccer franchise has chosen to identify with a year that may divide the city rather than unite it. While the team intends to highlight Houston's founding along the banks of Buffalo Bayou, the year also commemorates the defeat of the Mexican Army by a largely Anglo Texan militia at the Battle of San Jacinto. Whether by ignorance or design, choosing 1836 has the potential to alienate Houstonians of Mexican origin, a group that is surely a large part of the team's fan base.
The year 1836 was, no doubt, a significant year in history. As a 19th-century historian, I welcome the attention the team name brings to what I feel is a misunderstood era. But choosing 1836 sends the wrong message at the wrong time. Texans of Mexican decent constantly struggle to identify with a place that was created out of Mexican defeat.
Houston stands perched to take its place among the economic centers of the Americas, thanks in great part to its sizable Latino population. This is not the time to exclude us.
This team name comes at a time of increased awareness of how mascots and names can stereotype or offend Americans. Last year, the National Collegiate Athletic Association scrutinized the use of Native Americans in team names such as the Florida State Seminoles and the Carthage College Redmen (now Red Men). Team names such as the Atlanta Braves and Washington Redskins sound anachronistic to modern ears. Not long ago the Washington Bullets changed their name to Wizards for similar reasons.
Thus it came as a surprise to me, and many of my students and colleagues, to hear 1836. Some thought it was a joke when I mentioned it. Surely the team must have anticipated this response if they knew anything about Texas history.
Lately I have noticed college students taking a more cynical or media savvy approach to explaining these marketing terms. One student in my class thought the name was a ploy to get attention for the team and that the real name would could later. But all of them saw the contradiction inherent in naming the team 1836 while expecting Latino fans to attend games.
Team officials state that 1836 was primarily chosen to represent the city's founding. A team name doesn't have the luxury of explaining itself. The link to Texas secession from Mexico during the Texas Revolution is inescapable.
The team logo compounds the connection by depicting Sam Houston on horseback, leading the charge against Mexican troops. What other conclusion can we draw?
While the year represents Texas independence, it also raises the complicated and sometimes shameful history that came along with it. Initially seen as economic boosters, Anglo American immigrants brought slavery and failed to keep contracts made with state officials. For Mexicans, Texas secession started the process of American conquest culminating in the invasion of Mexico in 1846 and the loss of almost half its territory. Few would disagree that Texas independence was an important chapter in the imperial story of American Manifest Destiny.
Houston has undergone many transformations and reinventions since 1836. Digging the Ship Channel, the Galveston hurricane of 1900, discovering oil and sending a man to the moon all took place since then and all changed the face of the city. Naming the team 1836 smacks of nostalgia for a time when Mexican people were absent or at least knew their place.
Another student in class generously noted that perhaps the team took for granted Latino fans and wanted to increase Anglo interest with this team name. Perhaps soccer is already too identified with Latin America and Europe Perhaps this is retribution for the vocal support the Mexican national team receives when it comes to town.
A more sinister reading suggests the team wants Latino aficionados, but only on their terms. Those terms are leaving your heritage, identity and family at the door.
The team has started its relationship with the Latino community off on the wrong foot. Short of changing the name, the team needs to make extra efforts to appear open to Latino Houstonians.
Only then, and by removing Sam Houston from the logo, will the team come to symbolize the promise of a global capital.

Ramos is assistant professor, Department of History, University of Houston.

I told the people I sit with at lunch about this and the racist from across the hall said, "I don't know what the big deal is."

May I Have Your Attention Please?

As I started talking about Poe’s eerie stories today, I noticed that, for the first time since all this TAKS crap started, something strange happened: all the kids were paying attention. Although they were to fill out a TAKS like questionnaire after reading Poe’s biography, the kids were really interested in it.

I told them about the Simpson’s episode that was very similar to The Tell Tale Heart. They wanted to know if they could find a copy of The Black Cat of The Pit and the Pendulum at the library, and it was dead silent when I read Annabel Lee.

It felt good to get them so excited about literature. Maybe the same thing will happen when we read the autobiography of Emily Dickenson.

This is how I feel sometimes:

me vs The System

The Ire in Me

I’ve started my college classes again. This semester I’m taking Adolescent Psychology. Our first class was last week, yes, on MLK day, but the prof didn’t show. Anyway, today, she had us create a Venn Diagram comparing & contrasting what adolescents are like to what we were like at their age. After about thirty minutes, we came together as a large group and shared. We sounded like a bunch of grumpy old people.

Then I got to thinking about the things we were saying, and I got really angry. Mostly because it all came back to my issue of the month: teaching to this test. It was good that the prof validated our feelings or I would have really gone off the top. I would have begun to write furiously upon my brand new notebook.

Here are the two things that upset me the most:

Kids are not allowed to choose any book they want to read. Instead, they have to read books that are in the Accelerated Reader program. When they get done with the book, they have to take a test to prove they read the book and then they acquire points for these books. We have to give them two grades from this, one is based on the amount of points, the other is based on the percentage of their tests. So in my class, they need to have 10 points every six weeks. So if they read a book worth 36 points, that’s 100. But if they made 75 percent on the tests, then that’s the other grade. It pisses me off to no end because to be honest, I don’t give a damn what they read as long as they read.

The other thing that was making me upset was the fact that everything that we teach has to be backed up by a TEK, the objectives tested on TAKS. The problem with this is that we cover all of them every six weeks, so in actuality, we’re teaching the same thing over and over, with the exception of writing of course.

I really hope they get enough people into the education system so that we fight back all this teaching to the test junk. In the end, yes, our kids will be great at taking a standardized test, but they won’t be able to think.

One of the Smartest Songs I've heard in a While

I'm sure Gustavo is already onto this one.

Mojado
by Ricardo Arjona featuring Intocable

Empaco un par de camisas, un sombrero,
su vocación de aventurero,
6 consejos, 7 fotos, mil recuerdos.

Empaco sus ganas de quedarse,
su condición de transformarse
en el hombre que soñó
y no ha logrado.

Dijo adiós con una mueca disfrazada de sonrisa.
Y le suplico a su Dios crucificado en la repisa
el resguardo de los suyos.
Y perforo la frontera como pudo.

Si la luna suave se desliza
por cualquier cornisa sin permiso alguno.
Porque el mojado precisa
comprobar con visas que no es de neptuno.

El mojado tiene ganas de secarse.
El mojado esta mojado por las lágrimas que bota la nostalgia.
El mojado, el indocumentado
carga el bulto que el legal
no cargaría ni obligado.

El suplicio de un papel lo ha convertido en fugitivo.
Y no es de aquí porque su nombre no aparece en los archivos, ni es de allá porque se fue.
Si la luna suave se desliza por cualquier cornisa sin permiso alguno.
Porque el mojado precisa comprobar con visas que no es de neptuno.

Mojado,
Sabe a mentira tu verdad,
sabe a tristeza la ansiedad
de ver un freeway y soñar con la vereda que conduce hasta tu casa.

Mojado,
Mojado de tanto llorar
sabiendo que en algún lugarte espera un beso haciendo pausadesde el día en que te marchaste.

Si la luna suave se desliza por cualquier cornisa sin permiso alguno.
Porque el mojado precisa comprobar con visas que no es de neptuno.
Si la visa universal se extiende el día en que nacemosy caduca en la muerte.
Porque te persiguen mojado,
si el cónsul de los cielos
ya te dio permiso.

What's up?

Part of the TAKS drilling strategies is this contest we call the “Writing Roundup.” Basically, the kids do a selection off the seventh grade Writing TAKS from previous years. They fill in their answers on a scantron and we compare percentages.

On the bulletin board in the hallway, there is a race track with cars and pictures of the 6th grade ELA teachers. Positions are changed every Wednesday and Friday, the day after the kids do the “Writing Roundup” in class. Every other teacher has been in first place, except mine. This week, my car has finally ended up in a ditch, and really, I don’t know if we’ll be able to get it out.

Of course, I question myself as a teacher. Everyone tells me not to worry about. I was only three points behind, which is really nothing, but I still worry. Are these kids regurgitating answers to me or do they really know what they’re talking about? We practice our grammar almost every day on our bell work/quick start, and yet they fail to see the simplest things like the misspelling of schedule.

But then, when I ask them what we talked about the day before and no one in the class can tell me, I wonder if it’s really me. I guess the fact that the TAKS is only ten weeks away is pretty nerve wrecking in itself. I hate to have to teach to this damn test, a test that contains so many errors that leaves teachers and students befuddled when they go over the answers, a test that the entire Texas education system revolves around, a test whose results can eventually decide whether or not a teacher is worth keeping on board.

Fortuna

One of my favorite things about Asian food is the fortune cookies. No matter where I go or who picks my cookie, my fortune is always something that can be applied to my life. My most recent read:

Someone looks up to you. Don’t let them down.

Today was one of those difficult days. The kids didn’t really want to work. In every class, someone did something that provoked a lecture. I think I handled it better that I have before. When I delivered my lectures it was much more coherent and got to the point: I’m here because I care.

The apathy that some of these students have is incredible. It’s difficult to gauge where it developed. Although I’m a disappointed, it only gives me more ganas because in the end, someone is looking up to me and I really can’t let them down. And of course, comments like the on Ktrion left do wonders for a gal.

Saludos

El Paso was good. It was really nice to hug some of my family members and not have it be one of those courtesy hugs. Of course, there were a couple of people that I didn’t want to see, but for the most part, I stayed away from them.

My nieces are all growed up. They’re beautiful and all that good stuff that proud aunts always say. My nephews are darling. Ricky Ticky, the kid who stole my heart years ago, is still the most awesome. Richard, his older bro, is a damn good guitar player. It’s funny because he plays all sorts of old school rock songs. On one trip, it so happened there was a Heart cd in the cd player. So Baracuda comes on the radio and Ricky, having learned all these songs from his brother, says in the daintiest voice ever, “Baracuda!”

It was sort of disheartening to leave. I hadn’t felt that in a long time. I’d love to go back, but I can’t for another couple of years. Sometimes I wonder what I’ll be going back to. I mean, I live in a pretty awesome city where I have a ton of things at the tip of my fingers, but being here, I miss out on small moments. I guess I have a lot to think about.

School started today. It wasn’t too bad. The worst part was that my feet were killing me. It must be the shoes. I can’t seem to find some sensible shoes.

Yesterday, I had one of those Nelson Ha-Ha! Moments. I was making some copies and there were a couple of other teachers in there, among them was M., a fellow Latina, and the Racist. As it turns out, we’re all going to this out of town training in the same group. Unbeknownst to me, people were already claiming their roomies. M. tuned me into the whole thing by asking if I’d room with her and of course, I said yes. I like her, not only because she’s a Latina, but because I think we have the same kind of temperament. She’s really laid back and takes it all as it comes. Anyway, the Racist pipes in and says, “Well, I’m going then too.”

And M., who has not a single mean bone in her entire body, says, “Oh, well, maybe we can all room together.” But that ain’t gonna happen. I know its mean, but I’m sort of stuck for the moment so I rejoice in moments like this.

In New Years News, the only resolution I have officially made is to write more. I intend on spending and extra half hour after school to write. Well, I’m off to finish my seating charts. The kids got moved around the different classes so in some ways, some issues have been amended but other have popped up. All in all, I’m hopeful about this semester.

Tagged

SEVEN via Ktrion

Seven things I plan to do before I kick the can:

1. Buy an I Book

2. Get a Ph.D.

3. Get an M.F.A. in Creative Writing

4. Write and successfully publish a book

5. Buy a casita

6. Visit every continent at least once

7. Not live pay check to pay check

Seven things I can do:

1. Make Thanksgiving dinner

2. Write a decent story

3. Bake

4. Create interesting lessons

5. Listen

6. Duplicate some of my mom’s recipes

7. Tune up a car

Seven things I can't do:

1. Run

2. Get out of a ticket

3. Avoid procrastinating

4. Drive in silence

5. Go to Grad school (at least right now)

6. Leave El Paso without crying

7. Avoid getting nervous when speaking in front of my peers

Seven things that attract me to another person:

1. Friendship

2. Humor

3. Lack of Machi-machismo

4. Intelligence

5. Someone who’s taller than me

6. A non-Republican

7. Someone who can be my partner

Seven things I say most often:

1. Eso me encanta

2. Eso no me encanta

3. Ah que la chingada

4. You are not a CHRISTIAN! (The word Christian is replaced with other words sometimes)

5. Bandit!

6. Quiet!

7. Stop running!

Seven people to do this little blogger game:

1. Cindylu

2. Daily Texican

3. EMC

4. Cracked Chancla

5. Mariposa

6.Gustavo

7.Vanessa

Despues les cuento como me fue en El Chuco. For now, I gotta get ready to go celebrate el año nuevo. I hope 2006 brings us all many great things. ¡Salud!

If anything,This Online Driver’s Ed Class Is Allowing Me to Use Driving As a Metaphor

Sometimes, people cut you off without knowing it. They do it because they’re in a hurry. Maybe they’re having an emergency and need to be somewhere. Perhaps their kid fell off a tree and shattered her radius or ulna. Sometimes, people cut you off because you’re getting on their nerves. You’re following the two second rule and they don’t realize that the car in front of you is going just as slow because they’re one of those people that don’t speed. Or maybe while you went over the last hill, they didn’t notice the sea of brake lights up ahead and think you’re being a jerk because they’re tailgating you. Other times, they’re just plain jerks. In any case, these are the kind of people you need to keep away from.

The First Time I was Charlie

You are Franklin!


Which Peanuts Character are You?
brought to you by Quizilla


Thanks to Ktrion for the link

It Feels Good to Type or I Don't Really Have a Title & This Entry is Very Random

Friday afternoon, I walked out of SJ Intermediate with a bag full of books, a box full of plants, and a heart full of joy.

I was surprised by the amount of gifts I received from my students. There was the used stuffed Dalmatian that appeared on my desk when I went to go talk to my mentor. It was later discovered who it was from when one of my early morning pupils found the notebook paper stuck to the dog’s side. Then there was the brown box of treasure that a student candidly delivered to me seconds before she had to be down the hall in her Social Studies hall. Actually, it was a box with Ferrero Rocher chocolates, but the way she presented it to me felt like she was giving me a tiny treasure. There was the Frosty cup filled with caramel Kisses and a tiny dog I shall name Herman. Also, there was the kid who delivered the perfect gift for a Language Arts teacher: a book. Then there was the kid in homeroom who presented me with my very own perfumed powder stick. She made me open it in front of her and wear some. Then of course, there were all the stockings the kids decorated for me in Math class. Finally, there was the candy cane a homemade card from the kid that always says, “This class is so boring.” I hope she knows that this totally goes against her, “I really hate your class” attitude and just proves my, “this is really hard and I really need your help” theory I have about her.

This upcoming Friday, I’m heading to El Chuco via I-10 West. I’ve charged up the Gameboy and have the Tetris ready for the long, long drive. I haven’t seen some of my family members in about a year. There’s so much family drama going on right now, but I need to see the kiddos and the mom. Besides, it’ll be interesting to see how the city has changed or stayed the same.

Bookstores

Yesterday, I visited a brand new Borders Bookstore. I never walk into those stores intending to buy anything, and I very rarely buy anything. Most of my books come from the Half Price bookstore because well, I’m on a budget. Anyway, I always scour the bookshelves in the young adult, fiction, biography/memoir, culture & gender studies, and magazine section. Yesterday while poking around in the gender studies section, I was appalled to find Desert Blood on the bookshelf that said “Lesbians.” Yes, the book does talk about a lesbian relationship and the author happens to be a lesbian herself, but so what? Why don’t they put the David Sedaris books on a “Gay” bookshelf? It’s not like that’s the first thing the Library of Congress categorized it as, it’s actually number six on the list. It’s just so interesting that that’s what these big chain bookstores decide to focus on. I took the book and placed it in the fiction section and told the lady that was working in the section about their mistake. I doubt it’ll be there the next time I go back.

In other news, I was ecstatic a couple months ago to see an Arte Público Press title on one of the tables at Barnes and Noble. Also, recently, I found out that the same book is actually in the Accelerated Reader program the kids use.

Finally, a couple days ago, I got the news that the anthology I was asked to submit to was accepted at my ex-employer. I’m guess that means that my stories were accepted by them because they were part of the initial manuscript. At least I think they were, it remains to be seen if my stories will remain in the manuscript.

How Dare You!

The day of my PDAS, I designed a lesson that would allow the kiddos to get their little paws on the keyboards. Since I only have three functioning student computers and four groups of kids, I figured it’d be okay to let one group use my computer. I tend to share a lot of my things with the kids, so really it’s no problem. I’m the kind of teacher that will let them rummage through my desk looking for a pencil.

Anyway, by the time the group of all boys got done with their research, the only computer left was mine. So I herded them over to my desk and told them to get to work.

Next to my computer, I have a picture of Dan the Man and I in a red dollar-find picture frame from Target. The handsome young man, as my sis called him when she visited my class, picked up the picture frame and said, “Ms. who is this?”

There was a lot of talking and somehow it came out that the guy in the picture was my fiancé. When he heard that he was appalled. He walked over to me with the picture and said, “Ms. is that true? Is he your fiancé?”

When I said yes, he said, “Why? I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!”

I smiled at him and told him to get back to work. Nearing the end of class, he came up to my desk and said, “Ms. Why didn’t you tell us? When is your marriage? Are you going to invite me?”

Rewind a day. During homeroom, I told the kids that I’d be gone fourth period and gave them that whole spiel about being on their best behavior for my sub and blah, blah, blah. One kid shouts out with a scowl on his face, “Why can’t you be here? Why don’t you take care of your stuff some other time?”

“I’m going over to neighbor teacher’s class.”

“Why can’t she take care of her own class and leave you alone?”

Their reactions make me laugh. You know, the kind of laugh that makes you throw back your head and show all those cavities to the world. It feels good to hear them say things like that. It also encourages me to try harder because they have expectations of me too.