Breakthrough Award

The Breakthrough

In my last post, I talked about the issue of sleep. I’ve had a breakthrough here recently. Yesterday, I actually woke up before my usual 2 PM and I didn’t even have anything to do. Although I did manage to clean up a little, hang up “art,” and run a few errands. This morning I was awake by 8 AM thanks to my alarm and having gone to been before midnight.

The coolest thing about waking up early was being able to watch Sunday Morning, Meet the Press, and This Week. I also had some early morning coffee. There are still several hours left in the day and I feel ahead of the game.

The rest of the day holds more errands and some quality time with the printed and soon to be printed word.

The Award



Not Quite Grown Up, who is starting her first year as a full fledged teacher (and a great one she will be), merited me with an award. An award! I think it’s awesome when people list me on their links.

The coolest thing about this award is the rules:

1. Put the logo on your blog.
2. Add a link to the person who awarded it to you.
3. Nominate at least 7 other blogs.
4. Add links to these blogs on your blog.
5. Leave a message for your nominee on their blog.

I like the idea of paying it forward. Without further adieu, here are my nominees:

Annette--because whenever the homesickness sets in, I can always visit her site to calm the senses.

Bad Texas—a fellow proud Texan, UH Alumni, and just plain cool.

CAD—she takes awesome pics and is living out her dream.

Cracked Chancla—another woman living out her dream. I hope I get to visit el Tianguis soon.

Cindylu—she inspired me to revamp my blog and raised my awareness to so many issues. Plus, she’s almost a Doctora in an issue I care about deeply.

ElenaMary—inspiring in so many ways. If only we could all be half the activist she is.

El Chavo—his useless kitchen tools crack me up, the HR posts make me drool (even the bad ones because I always imagine my mom’s delicious HR’s), and his pictorial tours of are cool.

Gwen—who provides tales of shopping, Metro rides, and the whirlwind that is publishing.

Because I am a rule follower, I must stop at seven. However, anyone over on my links list is a nominee.

Sleepless Wedding Dress Video

El Insomnio

This summer, more than ever, I’ve been having sleep issues. At the beginning of the summer, I was used to my school schedule. I’d fall asleep around 11 or 12 and wake up around 7 AM.

But the week before the trip to El Paso everything got all screwy. I was staying up late almost every night preparing for my presentation.

Then, when I returned from El Paso, things just got worse. I’d stay up later and later until I wouldn’t fall asleep until the sun was coming up.

Now that I’ve had training to attend, I usually sleep two to four hours. It’s always the same. I go to my bedroom at around 11 PM, watch TV or read, and before I know it, it’s 2 AM. I force myself to go to sleep. Then when I least expect it, I wake up wondering what time it is. I realize its 2 or 4 hours later and can’t go back to sleep.

Because I hate lying there idly, I get out of bed and annoy the cats by turning on the lights and making coffee. Probably not the best thing to do, but it’s one of my favorite things about waking up early, having the time to make coffee and watch the morning news.

The Wedding Dress

Long ago, I planned on getting married at some point. Nothing has been done about it really. For me, both of us being on the lease is enough.

Sure, I used to plan Barbie weddings, but they were not ever my own. Sunday nights, when I watch Bridezillas, I revel in the joy of not being them especially that lunatic in the video below.

My mom, however, has a different view.

When I spoke to her the other day, she was so excited about a wedding dress she saw at the Goodwill store. When her friend asked her why she was so interested in it, she said, “Para la Georgina, la mas chiquita. Ella se quiere casar.”

I was touched by the tone in her voice; it was like a joy with a hint of joy smothered with love. I’ve been thinking about it a lot trying to capture the tone in words. I might hit replay on that conversation* hoping to hear it again.

*I was trying to link the story, but I realized it’s from one of my mom stories that I’m currently collecting. Anyway, my mom often tells you the same stories if you call her frequently. She calls it darle vuelta al cassette.

Muddled

Recently, there was a big fight over the revised English Language Arts state mandated curriculum. It appears that one group of people wanted to remove comprehension and increase the stress on teaching fluency. They also wanted to take grammar out of the writing process.

Many of us were up in arms and complained, but the board still had their way. They voted and passed a version of the TEKS (Texas Essential Knowledge Skills) that was not what had been put up on the web site or the version a group of English teachers had revised.

And now, this. The ire is causes.

I’ll be happy when someone with some sense are on the Board of Education. Currently, it is not a requirement to have any experience in education to be on the board. While sometimes we need outside perspective, not having a true idea of what effects your decisions are having on millions of children is a huge problem.

The problem with education is that it has become muddled by so much red bureaucratic tape and loss of power. These people need to step back and really listen. There are so many of us wanting to do powerful things for our students, but stopped or disillusioned because of them.

From the Vault

My little blue flash drive that I got when I was still in college has finally run out of space. Because I know that I have multiples of some files, I decided I should clear up some space to keep adding stuff to it.

Anyway, I found what seems to be a blog entry that I never posted. This was typed up 12/29.2006...

As I sit/sat here in the wee hours of the morning, listening to my favorite Counting Crows album (Hard Candy), chipping away at my brain for words and ideas, I’m reminded of one of my favorite places on the UH campus, the library. It is one of the things I miss most about college. Unlike most students at U of H, who hardly or never set foot in the library, I was there almost on a daily basis.

In my early college days, I didn’t know how to use the library. I’d end up frustrated and running to the internet or bookstore to find enough info to write my papers. It is of no surprise that most of those papers were really a piece of crap. I haven’t seen one lately, but I’m sure they were. On top of that, I had just learned to use a pc and I’m certain I’d been using something other than word to type them which made them esthetically horrid.

Moving from El Paso to Houston didn’t automatically make me a library expert. In fact, I’m sure that I still didn’t know how to use a library when I got here. It was slowly and with the help of many people that I learned about all the different sections of the library. There were some I spent a lot of time in and others I never set foot in (which is really pretty sad).

But my favorite thing to do at the library was sit in a cubby and study or write. I remember the year I got stuck with the ghastly schedule in which I worked most of the day and had class at night, I’d leave work and spend the rest of the afternoon on the fourth floor in a cubby in front of the window translating Chaucer as I listened to some music.

Going to the library, I always had to go alone too. It never worked if I went with someone else because I would talk or they’d want to leave.

Or, they could accidentally throw off my routine: As I was leaving work or class, I’d plug myself up to my musical device. Upon arriving at the library, I’d pick up a Daily Cougar on my way inside. I’d usually take the older elevator because if there were too many people milling around, I’d take the stairs across from them. When I found an appropriate cubby (if mine had been taken), I’d sit down and take out my books, notebooks, and pens (I usually carry at least three pens and pencil). Then, I’d read the Daily Cougar, maybe do a little free writing to clear the brain, and then start my homework.

Inevitable

Since my last entry, a few things have occurred. For example, I turned one year older. My new profile picture was taken during my birthday celebration. It was a fun evening with delicious food.

I also started a three week period of nothingness. There are no staff developments. The only work I have is to keep the house clean and whatever else I decide to do.

I also made the epic journey home and back. The goal of the visit was to help my mom settle into her new apartment. Mid-March, my mom had a stroke. It was a really hard blow. It made me look at the people around me with two living, healthy parents and wonder why I mine had to be sick. It made me very angry.

Fortunately, my mom was able to overcome the effects of her stroke. Although at times she forgets or says the wrong word, she’s doing well. Her CT scan found that her brain had not bled. And now that she’s on her own again, her zest for life is back.

Still, on the drive home, I couldn’t help but think about the inevitable. One day, I will be driving back toward Houston and there won’t be a mom waiting to hear if I’ve made it to Ft. Stockton or San Antonio yet. I know that the empty feeling I had when I found out about her stroke will be ten times worse. I will probably go around saying “Aye Amá,” like my own mom did when hers passed away. Eventually, I will get used to it, but what seems so difficult now, is that I don’t know how I will.

For now, I know that I need to enjoy her as much as I can and do as much I can to make her as happy as possible.

WHAT???

That was my reaction to Tim Russert’s death. Meet the Press and This Week are my Sunday morning indulgences. It’s going to be strange this Sunday.

Brief and Wondrous

I was tickled to see that Sunday Morning was airing a story on Junot Diaz this week.

It’s been an adventure for some of my friends to get a copy of Diaz’s The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. At one Barnes and Noble, my friend was told, “we are a didactic book store and we stock what our customers want.’

Her reply was to order five copies, four of which she never intended to pick up. She also said to the sales person, “This book is going to blow up. Do you know what that means? People, my friends, are going to come in looking for it and I hope you have some in stock.”

After allowing another friend to read the first chapter, she was immediately drawn into the story. “I’m going to go get it after we get done here.”

“Be sure not to go to Barnes and Noble.”

“Why?”

“Because I bought their only copy.”

“What do you mean?”

“This was the only copy they had when I went to get mine. (I only got it there because I had an extra discount.) I’m pretty sure they haven’t replaced it yet.”

She didn’t listen to my warning and there weren’t any new copies.

Anyway, that’s all beside the point. The point is that it’s awesome he’s getting more media coverage. All real people accounts I have read and heard about this book are positive. So it’s nice that for once the critics and the readers agree.

La Naca

Growing up, I always thought the Cheros (cowboys) at my high school were such chuntaros. My friends and I used to laugh at their chingamelavista lime green boots, painted on Wranglers, and motley-colored cowboy shirts. When they cruised through campus in their supped up pick up trucks blaring Ramon Ayala y Los Tigres del Norte, I would turn up whatever grunge band I had playing on my Walkman.

Since I’ve left home, I’ve become quite a fan of “chero music.” As I told my mom a while back, “me estoy haciendo bien naca.”

I am such a naca now, that I almost jumped out of my seat when I was able to download the newest Intocable cd 2C before midnight.

Status Update

Friday was the last day I got to spend n the building I began teaching. Come mid-July, all of my classroom things will be in a brand new building. The old building, which was “condemned,” will be repaired to house a middle school (grades 5-6).

Of course, it was only fitting that my friend and I be the last ones to leave. As with any move, there was a lot of work to be done. However, we had a lot of buildup from teachers past in novel cabinets, closets, and filing cabinets. When 7PM rolled around and my friend still had seven banker boxes full of files from teachers past to go through. By this time, we had fully pledged to our mantra: I am a much better teacher than that. So when she suggested throwing it all away, I was ecstatic.

I didn’t have a final moment with my room. Not only did I not have time, but I don’t really buy into that type of sentimentality. The future was on my mind, the prospect of our new school, our new work family, my new students, and my new responsibilities.

I am very happy that summer is here. There are so many projects that I want to dive into but have not had the time.

Can You Smell Hope?

I’ve been trying to stay off the politics topic here because it really chaps people’s hide. For a while there, many of us were in agreement: Bush sucks and he needs out. Now that we have the chance for that, ideas have diverged--which is cool.

Often when people talk politics around me, I tend to do a lot of listening. I’ve mentioned before why it is that I support Obama. I understand that a lot of people think he’s green and won’t do a good job and then there are all the rumors of him being a secret Muslim and he won’t swear on the bible and that the media owns him, but I still got the dude’s back.

As I end my third year of teaching, I can’t help but think back on my interview almost three years ago. I don’t think the principal, at the time, really wanted to hire me. I had no teaching experience. I had this dreamy view of what teaching would be like. I’d go in there and be like Ms Dangerous Minds or something. I think the principal sensed this and gave me a really hard time. He asked me some questions that are not normally asked. I know this now because I have been on my share of interview committees.

Not only that, from asking around, I was the only one that had to go back to a second interview with potential colleagues. Nonetheless, I was given a chance and I think I have truly proved myself to them. I consider myself a valuable asset to our campus. Sure, I made some mistakes, but I never stop trying or learning. When I’m dying to go home or wake up and think about calling in because I just want time off, the end result, the kids, always force me to hang in there.

So yeah, Obama may be green, but that doesn’t mean he won’t do a good job. I honestly feel that his heart is in this, and he truly understands the repercussions his choices will have on the people. Finally, the playing field has leveled out.

Accomplishments

These last couple of days, I’ve been giving up some of my conference period to attend some of my former students’ Rights of Passage presentations. Rights of Passage, or ROP, is this new school-wide program that we adopted that has kids look at the good things they have done for themselves and their community. It’s supposed to make kids feel like Middle School weren’t just those awkward years we all remember.

When they talked to us about this program at the beginning of the year, I was confused. Then, I thought it was a drag. Then, I just sort of paid no mind to it unless I had to. But now, I think it’s really, really cool.

As grown ups, we are constantly needing to take stock in our life. When the invisible monkeys the Universe hires, fling their poo at us or in our general direction, we have the tendency to look at what is good in our lives and remember that things will and do get better. For some of us, this skill wasn’t learned until much later in life. Given the lives of some of the students at our school, I think it is important for them to learn to do this now.

I still have two more to attend, but I’ve really enjoyed going to them. Being the total sap that I can be, I thought I would be crying through some, but I haven’t. I’ve just been so happy to see all of the great things some of these kids have done. Kids who I had two years ago and still want to share their accomplishments with me. My favorite part is when they say, “In five years, I see myself…” because in my mind, there is no doubt that they will be where they imagine.

It is a pleasant end to a rough, rough year. It reminds me what it is that convinced me to go into this profession: kids jammed packed with potential.

B&N Disappoints

J.P.’s post made me think of my evening yesterday. I had originally set out to find a pair of sensible shoes, the kind that will look good when I have to dress up and my loafers won’t do. Since it was Sunday, everything closed early.

I parked my car on one end of the shopping center and decided to walk my way down in hopes of finding a store that stayed open past 6 P.M. One of the stores that I passed was Barnes and Noble. Now, B&N has never been my favorite bookstore, but I end up there a lot because it’s the only one near by.

I decided to go in because I’d read in the Houston Press that the Ask A Mexican book was now in paperback and I also was considering buy Junot Diaz’s Pulitzer Prize Winning The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao.

I was really disappointed—yet again—by B&N. I had to go dig through the stacks to find a copy of each. I would have thought that they’d at least have the Diaz book on one of their shelves near the front. I mean, he did win the Pulitzer.

Needless to say, I left with nothing. I really didn’t feel like investing my time in money at this place. Junot Diaz’s Pulitzer Prize Winning The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao.

I was really disappointed—yet again—by B&N. I had to go dig through the stacks to find a copy of each. I would have thought that they’d at least have the Diaz book on one of their shelves near the front. I mean, he did win the Pulitzer.

Teacher's Lounge

Since taking the position in 7th grade, I don’t use the teacher’s lounge very much. Most of the time, I eat in my classroom so that I can keep working. Yes, that caused me the freak out earlier this year, but lately, I’ve been way better about how late I stay and the workload I take home.

When I was doing cohort training the summer before my first year and in my university classes, we were always told not to hang out in the teacher’s lounge. It was described as a breeding ground of negativity—at times, it really is.

Today, after extended day, some of the kids missed the bus. It was partly my fault because I made them stay so the kids with perfect attendance got an extra prize. It was also the fault of the bus driver because after one kid got on, she took off like a bat out of hell. Because I hate to leave kids waiting alone, I hung out until their parents came to get them.

We were in the entrance of the school sitting on the sofas, and one kid said, “Ms. can I look in here? I’ve always been curious.”

“Sure,” I said as I opened the door for him.

He walked in and immediately sat down at one of the three tables and propped his feet up on the table. “What are you doing? We eat on those. Get your feet off!”

Two of the other kids waiting wandered in and took a seat at the other two tables. “Wow! It’s cool in here!”

“You should see when there are no kids, a disco ball pops down out of the ceiling,” I said.

“I’m sure,” he replied. Then he looked around and said, “You guys have a vending machine!”

“How much is the stuff?” asked the first kid.

“Fifty cents! That’s cheap!”

“Whoa, what’s in there?” asked kid number one as he wandered in to the kitchen area. “A coke machine!” He walked out and asked, “Can I buy one?”

I nodded my head yes. It was so funny to see them so amazed by a simple room. I don’t really know if I should have let them in there; however, I don’t see the harm. I remember as kid always wanting to be the kid Mrs. Rutherford chose to fill her cup with ice, so I could see the inside of the teacher’s lounge.

Shifting Focus, Old Friends, La Doctora

Shifting Focus

This Saturday is the last Saturday I have to work. I am so excited! It’s been fun though. Usually, before the TAKS test, we have what we call “extended day.” This is when kids stay later or come in on Saturdays to work on skills they need to pass TAKS. Usually, it’s by invite for the kids who struggle in class. Teachers try to do fun lessons; there are snacks, prizes, and some gym time. This year however, we had the crazy idea to do this for the kids taking the EOC (End of Course Exam given to Pre AP students a week after TAKS). We’ve had a really good time reading one of Robert Karimi’s poems. Saturday, they will create a blog with a literary analysis on Karimi’s poem and an MLK Speech. Should be cool. I’ll also be glad to have my Saturday mornings back next week.

I’ve shifted my focus back to students and in turn, it’s made me so much happier. I fake the good mood when I’m tired or lazy, and it rubs off on the kids, they behave, and make me want to be there. Kids are asking me if I will move up to 8th grade so they can have me one more year. There is a position open, and it would be interesting (what effects would this have on their learning?) and cool (to be with one group of kids for three years, very Freedom Writer-ish). However, I think for my sanity I will need to remain in 7th grade, for now.

Today, a student I don’t know (although this happens a lot, kids say hi, come into my room for tutoring, etc. and I don’t even know who they are) came to ask me for some advice about voicing her opinion. She was upset that students are being asked to remove Peta2 stickers from their binders. She had written a letter. It needs some work, but she makes some very good points. I gave her some suggestions and told her to go for it. I think it’s really cool and the peeps I’ve shared the story with think its cool, too.

Old Friends

If any of you have read any of the stories I wrote for Windows, you will know about Gabriel.

Gabriel was my best friend growing up. A few years after high school, we lost touch. About two weeks ago, when I checked my phone after school, I had three missed calls and a voice mail from my mom.

In the voice mail, my mom starts off stating some numbers, she says them again and then says, “Ese es el numero del Gabriel.” Too bad I’m old and it was the end of the day because I almost started jumping up in down, actually, not too bad because I could have further ruined the foundation of our old building. ;)

Since then, we’ve talked, e-mailed, and texted. It’s been the coolest thing in the world. I can’t even explain how happy it has made me to be in touch with him again.

La Doctora

I got a text earlier today from my sis letting me know that our sister-friend got her Ph.D. I suppose she defended her dissertation today. How awesome is that?

Felicidades Caro!

Marjane Satrapi

I was so anxious for last Saturday. Not only was I not working, I was also having a outing that entailed an author reading. I’d been looking forward to Marjane Satrapi’s reading for so long. Every time the Houston Inprint sent another e-mail advertising her reading, I’d get excited all over again.

That evening, my sis, her student, and I made our way to the Hobby Center. As they stood in line to buy books, I wandered around looking for the ticket counter only to find that I’d been right in front of it the whole time. When I got to the front of the line, I asked for two tickets. The woman replied, “We’re sold out.”

“You’re sold out?”

“Yes, but at 7:30 we will release all seats, do you want me to give you a number?”

I looked around a little disillusioned. How was it that I wasn’t going to get to see the author of one of my new favorite books? Finally, I said, “Yes, please.”

She gave me back half of an index card with #18 and Satrapi scribbled onto it. My claustrophobia kicked in so I had to make my way away from the crowds. I thought about going outside to see if there were any scalpers, but figured that it was highly unlikely. So I hung around inside and mingled with my sis’s student as my sis mingled with some of the people she knew in hopes of scoring some tickets. No such luck though.

At 7:30, we herded over to the ticket table again. It was only a matter of minutes before our number was called and we were able to get some tickets.

It was so worth it.

Satrapi is so awesome. She didn’t read from the book, but instead talked about why she chose cartoons to tell her story and how the book and movie came about. I haven’t seen the movie yet. I’m going to wait until it’s on video because I’d prefer to see it in its original language.

After the reading, there was the mandatory book signing. The line was incredibly long, but she moved us along pretty quickly. For the first time in a long time, I was so nervous and excited. She was so pleasant. I’ve ordered Embroideries off Amazon (of course B&N didn’t have it, why would they right?).

If you haven’t checked out her works, you definitely should.

Send Off

The sun is up I’m so happy I could scream
And there’s no where else in the world I’d rather be
Here with you it’s perfect
It’s all I ever wanted
I almost cannot believe that it’s for real
So pinch me quick
-The Cure, Mint Car

Although many memories are associated with The Cure, today, I want to remember the summer of ‘02. The time for my imminent departure was near. My time was split between Lucy or Armie.

Lucy and I would spend hot nights packed into Speaking Rock slinging back bottles of Bud and shots with the guys who had bets going on how many girls’ pants they could get into. I don’t know if Lucy was aware of this since she always accepted their drinks, dances, and walk to her car.

Nights with Armie were always more fun. She wasn’t out to find a man. All she wanted to do was drink. Because of this, we would often change scenes and go to The Comic Strip or some dark bar to shoot some pool.

It was great send off.

Sent Home

I was sent home Friday because my blood pressure was high.

I wasn’t going to talk about this here because I didn’t want people in my family to find out. At first, my reasoning was because I didn’t want them to worry about me. But the truth is that I am extremely embarrassed.

I am embarrassed that I have let myself go this far physically, mentally, and emotionally. Talking to my writing buddy today really made me take stock of what my life has become.

Teaching was never my life goal. I fell into it. It was meant to be a retention pond before going on, but it’s becoming a retention pond with no outlet. Don’t get me wrong, I love working with kids and certain kids really make me feel fortunate and happy to do my job, but something tells me it’s not meant to be my “life work.”

My writing buddy also told me that I’m failing my artistic side. And really, I can’t argue with her. Looking at this blog, I can also see the effects of my current situation and I can even track I got where I am. Sometimes, I don’t even want to blog because I know it’s going to be about work. Every other conversation that I have somehow involves work, and I’m sick of it.

As much as I’d like to give my current life the one finger salute, I know I can’t. That's not what grown ups do. Instead, there are small things that I can do to increase my quality of life. The first of which is not brining home so much work. Instead of filling up my spare time with more work so that I end up like a vegetable at the end of the day, work stays at school, and 30 minutes of writing will take it’s place. Even if I’m not exactly writing, but reading an essay on the craft, editing something, or re-reading things I feel good about.

I have also scheduled into my week three days for exercise. I know I should probably do more, but for now, I will work with that. As I learn to take things off my plate, I will be able to increase real life activities.

When I see how the quality of my life either increases or decreases, I will be more inclined to do more for myself.

Our Ass Has Hit the Floor

I know that as a woman and feminist, I should have voted for Hillary. But there is that part of feminist ideology that talks about helping all people, not just some. I also know that Hillary has a lot of experience. However, when I’ve been down in the slumps after watching Sicko (which thouroughly depressed me for a while), a long day of work battling a system that doesn’t work, reading lists of the deceased in the Iraq war, the only candidate that has been able to inspire hope in me again has been Obama.

Sometimes, it’s okay for the inexperienced to try their hand at something new. As my 9th Grade World History teacher used to say, “Once your ass hits the floor, you can’t go anywhere else but up.”

Civil Duty

Today I missed out on a day of “OMG I’m like a 7th grader so everything comes with a side of extra drama” because I had jury duty.

This is the first time I ever really have to show up to jury duty. In the past, I was able to get out of it because I was in college and I used to help out at the foster care my mom used to run. But now, I have no excuse. It seems sort of ironic though that the state pulls me out of work and has to pay someone else to do my work because I have to serve on a jury.

Anyway, as luck would have it, I was in the first group of people that were called out. There was a lot of standing around and waiting until we were finally released. As hard as I tried to create the sense of adventure, I couldn’t. First, I was annoyed by the lack of organization. My inner teacher was mentally organizing everything with, in my mind, fool-proof procedures. Then, there were the people who don’t know to stay to the right of the stairs. Then the greasy haired guy who tried to make small talk and the old man who wouldn’t take off his damn boots and when he finally did, put them after my coat so they ended up on top of it when they were run through the metal detector. The last straw though had to be the guy that was trying to pick up juror #2, a late 20’s petite Latina. It wouldn’t have bothered me had they not ended up around me the whole time or had I not over heard him ask her if her purse was truly a Prada and not a knock off like a Prado.

I did appreciate that the bailiff wasn’t a total jerk and that the judge was very conscious of our time. Needless to say, I didn’t get selected for the jury. We were all let go because they were able to work it out before the got around to picking jurors.

So tomorrow, it’s back to work. We have TAKS parent night tomorrow. It sucks because I found out tonight that I have to wear my sausage arm, lame staff shirt and it's the same night Obama will be speaking at the Toyota center downtown Houston. Just my luck. I’m not looking forward to spending the entire day at work tomorrow. Even though I live quite close to work, I never see the point in coming home. Well, really, I know that if I come home, I will have a real hard time going back to work.

I’m off to spend some quality time with my current obsession—Persepolis.

Another Great One Passes on

Going to Austin with Gabi and Caro is always one of my favorite things. The company of course is great, but the city has this vibe to it. One of the last times we were there, I had the privilege of meeting raúl salinas.

Today, raúl salinas has passed on, but he has left behind a legacy that, through our work, should keep on for years.

OK Gambling

“Come a little closer baby, I feel like laying you down…”

Smoke infests the air. It’s hard to breathe. Wedged between fiber glass and aging thighs.

From the back, I hear a twangy voice say, “That guy is hawt!”

Another cigarette is lit. A Milwaukee’s Best is popped open.

“I’m gonna win big tonight baby,” says the twangy voice.

Despite the smoke, the air is thick with anticipation of what could be. Will I win big tonight?

Another Low

How sad is it that I’ve already started a countdown for the end of school?

This year has been rough to say the least. As much as I want to be the person that can, I’m not. And it’s not because I suck, but because I don’t delegate much. I’ve gotten a lot better about it, but I still don’t do it enough. I feel like I have to do it all.

All of these extra things I’ve taken on or have been handed have really taken away time from my students, and for this, I feel really bad. I know that it could be worse, but I also know that I could be better. And while I’m rocking out with some awesome lessons that don’t involve worksheets and are challenging, etc., I don’t have the time to spend with the kids. I’ve been out of class at least twice this month and will be out two more times doing extra stuff. Meetings after school and the never ending research, filing, etc, keep me from attending games, competitions, concerts. This is what I’m missing the most.

This past weekend, some of my students competed in The Future City Competition. They built a model of a city that was eco-friendly. Even though I helped out with their abstract, I missed out because I was meeting with my colleagues about a grant to some traveling this summer. Although they didn’t place, they did receive an award for Most Eco-friendly city. Really, they didn’t place because there couldn’t be two teams in the top whatever from the same school (another group placed 3rd).

I hardly get to see the girl’s group. We have yet to meet this semester. After school tutorials are a dream. Making time to meet with students is really difficult. I have to schedule it way in advance. If you look at my agenda, it’s sort of a joke.

And personal life? Hah! That’s a joke! My loved ones hardly get to hear from me on the phone much less see me in person.

I know this is a career choice that I made, and I love aspects of the job. There are days I come home with my head in the clouds because I had a good day with that kid who doesn’t get it, or a kid said/wrote something amazing, but lately, those days have been few a far between.

I just wish I could go back to my roots. Go back to being what I was at the beginning of the year. I’ve seen too much of the ugly side of education. This side makes me negative and bitchy. It makes me long for summer, but the saddest thing is that it makes me wish I didn’t do what I do.

I Kiss You on the Brain in the Shadow of the Train

I spent the evening in a quaint little coffee shop in Deer Park where everyone knows everyone’s name…seriously, the do. If they don’t, they know someone who does. That’s strange to me. People think that’s how El Paso is. Many have been shocked by the size of it.

Anyway, I was at this coffee shop because my friend’s band was playing. It was pretty cool. Their chai lattes are amazingly good. They’re better than very friendly college student barrista’s at the old peep’s Starbucks.

As I was sitting there listening to them jam out, I was sort of wishing I had my notebook. When I’m around creative people, their vibe rubs off on me. However, now that I’ve sat for a while playing Super Collapse 3 (I rock at the puzzle section, I unlocked more than half!), the muse packed up and took off. I hate how she feels like she can do as she wishes. I need to learn better muse skills.

What’s up with this weather? It’s actually been cold around here, like cold enough to turn on the heater. Insane.

My Version of Counting Sheep

It is 1:34 AM and I can’t get my happy self to bed. I had fallen asleep earlier, but the sound of a ringing phone woke me and I haven’t been able to go back to bed. I dabbled with some of the various notions flailing around in my brain. Still. I need to go to sleep already.

Fortunately, tomorrow will be a day of meetings and mingling. But I’ll pay for it because I’ll be slow when it comes to doing menial tasks like filing or re-organizing my great piles of junk. I have hope that with the good drink (coffee) and some catchy tunes, I’ll be able to whistle away the afternoon and items on my to-do list.

It’s rather sad that my days of nothingness have come to an end. I’m really going to miss them. I attempted to have an adventure every day, but none of my adventures were too thrilling. The coolest thing was Saturday, when I went to Niko Niko's and the owner took my order. He greeted me with a smile. When I said I would like a falafel sandwich, his facial expression portrayed pride in my choice. He also seemed very happy to be at work. That’s always nice.

This evening I was drawn out of my pj’s when Dealy-O called me up and said, “I miss you. Come meet us.”

That’s one of the nicest things someone can say in my book, so I could not object. I’m such a narcissistic bastard sometimes. We met for coffee/tea/hot chocolate. After my chai latte was prepared, the barrista sang out my order. He had a very nice voice, so nice that I heartily said, “Wow, thank you.”

Ode to My Thermos

Chavela is tall and thick como una luchadora sanota. Her body glistens in the sun, but never reflects any facts. The cup attached to her top by screwing it on is big enough to hold the contents of a regular coffee cup, but you would never know that just by looking at it. I fill her up every morning to help endure our long day of incessant whining and last minute meetings. Every evening, when we get home, I take her out of my bag and rinse her out, leaving her insides to dry in preparation for the next day.

Gabriel

I was going through boxes of crap today trying to clean out the closet, not because I need the space but because I really don’t need all that stuff. I’m really trying to purge my life of feelings, things, ideas that I don’t need. This particular task had been on my to-do list since last summer.

It was kind of cool to run into old journals, cards, college essays, letters, and pictures. While going through the box of photos, I ran across one of my best friend Gabriel and I at my sister’s wedding. Seeing our faces frozen still on a day that was so happy and blessed stopped me in my tracks.

Gabi was the first in our immediate family to have a real wedding. All of my other siblings had run off to City Hall to get married. I’ve always thought it was cool that she had sent me an invitation, not included me on my mom’s. Of course, I was given the option of a plus one. As soon as I got it, I knew there was only one person who could fulfill that plus one: Gabriel.

I can’t remember if he attended the mass or I picked him up before the dance and reception. What I do remember is him saying, “I’m going to dance with all of the women in your family before the night is over.”

And that he did. He danced the night away with my mom, sisters, aunts, and nieces. He even got me to dance with my dad.

Seeing that photograph also made me realize how much I really miss him. I’ve tried so hard to find him, but my searches have resulted in zilch. We didn’t have a falling out or anything, we just lost touch.

Sometimes I wonder how different life would have been if we’d stayed in touch because he’s been the one person I can honestly say was my BFF. There was nothing I couldn’t tell him, he always knew how to make me feel better, and he accepted me for me.

For a while, I didn’t think about him. My mom would sometimes ask, “Oye como estara el Gabriel? Dios lo bendiga.” It was then that the memories would rush back. Writing the story about him put some of the memories at ease. It’s weird because I hadn’t felt like this in a long time. I know that I may never see him again, but damn how I wish I would.

The First of Many Victories

When I came out as an Obama supporter, many people told me I was nuts. Frankly, as much as my feminist self would like to vote for a woman, I just can’t. Hillary and I don’t agree.

Obama to me is someone who can seriously help us out. I’ll shut up now and let Mo Rocca’s words do my talking because they say it better.

Here's the thing: Hillary's the person who helps you pack boxes and organize all your shit when you're moving. No one is more dependable. Obama, on the other hand, is the guy who finds you a new place to live.

Adios Navidad

I hate this time of year. All of the Christmas lights are coming down, stores are dead, and the good cheer is gone. It could potentially be a very depressing point in time. Fortunately, the depression hasn’t set in. I’m hoping it doesn’t. I have three more days before I return to work.

Speaking of returning to work, I’m sort of scared of going back. There are many tasks to be completed this spring semester and I fear that I’m going to lose some of my me time. The couple weeks before school let out, I was working 12-hour days pretty much every day. I did tell my students that I was done accepting late assignments. At least their homeroom and unbook reports. They are given deadlines for these assignments in advance. Plus, they are given time in class to complete the assignments.

I really thought that this year was going to be way better than the last two. It seems like there’s always a monkey wrench to be dealt with. There is always more that needs to be done. Or a new task that needs to be fulfilled. And it’s not such a big deal if my writing didn’t have to take the back seat to all this. Perhaps someday I will figure out how to balance life, work, and writing.

El Año Nuevo in Retrospect

This morning, I woke up with a longing for a New Year’s Eve day morning with my mom. Although New Year didn’t really involve as much magic and make believe as Christmas, my mom still had some traditions/superstitions she wouldn’t let go of like the 12 grapes with 12 wishes at midnight. Some she got from the morning shows she likes to watch. We would always comment on the new rituals. Which ones we could and would like to do, but never did.

One year, when my mom was working for Mrs. Raney doing the live-in thing, my mom and I completed the following in the first couple minutes of the New Year:

Ate 12 grapes making a wish with each
Toasted with some rancid Champagne
Swept the entrance to get rid of bad/old vibes
Retrieved pennies from the potted plant with our right hand and threw them into the house

I don’t think any of this really did anything, but it was fun. After running around like maniacs, we laughed perhaps at how ridiculous it all was. Still, it was so much fun, and those couple minutes always replay in slow motion when I think of celebrating el año nuevo.

New Year

I’ve never been big on New Year’s Resolutions. They seem like another thing that if I don’t get done I will beat myself up over.

Last year, I made two: work on my writing and be a better teacher. I think I did both. Sure I haven’t had anything published on my own yet, but I’ve been working on it. In fact, I have a lot of new material that I’m working on editing and work shopping. At the start of the school year, I was an awesome teacher, and I know a lot of people believe that my jump from 6th to 7th grade is something that a great teacher does. I think I pull my load and I don’t think I’ll ever really be content because there is always more that I can do in regard to my work.

Since the cana count has been increasing, in lieu of resolutions, I’m making one of those “things to do before I croak list.”

1. Ride a horse
2. Visit the Grand Canyon
3. Spend a day on the beach on the Pacific West Coast and East Coast
4. Go to as many museums as possible in NYC
5. Take a month-long vacation in Mexico
6. Go deep sea fishing
7. Pet a snake
8. Set foot on the eastern hemisphere
9. Publish a book
10.Write a story about Gabi
11.Have the office of my dreams
12.Learn to drive a motorcycle
13.Sit in the audience of a television show
14.Create a soundtrack for my life
15.Donate to a substantial amount to a charity

That’s all I can think of right now. I think this will work better for two reasons. The first is that I love making to do lists and crossing things off. There’s nothing like being able to roll your pen over a task and at the end of the day being able to condense or throw away the whole darn thing because there’s nothing left. The other reason I think this will work is because I have longer to complete this list. Sure, I could croak at any moment, but somehow, I think I’m doing this life thing for a long time.

Enjoy the last leg of ‘07 and the birth of ‘08.

Blue Christmas

I don’t know if my mom loved to or felt like she had to create this sense of magic for me at Christmas time. She wasn’t like some parents now who refuse to allow their children to believe in Santa. My mom let me write letters to him, asked me what I wanted so she could tell him, and insisted that on Christmas Eve, Santa come to visit. The only difference is that I was allowed to interact with Santa.

Somewhere, sometime, someone had acquired a Santa suit, and I think it was Filly, my middle brother, who would always wear it. I don’t know if the suit had come with or without the beard, but it ended up missing the Christmas when I was five. So they ended up making do with a remnant piece of blue faux fur that had been used in the doll house my mom and brothers had made me for me.

I don’t know if it was the beard or that Santa was so tall and lanky and had eyes just like my brother, but that was the Christmas I knew, for sure, that there really was no Santa. Still, I pretended to believe because it was tradition. Being that at five, I already had a niece, I knew I couldn’t ruin this for her.

During my dark years*, I would dress up as Santa and go around delivering gifts for my nephews and my brother’s friends’ children. It was so much fun to see the look on their faces when they saw me. It made the itching below the beard and hat worth it.

So if it was out of obligation, love, or just tradition, my mom’s work churned out so much more than happy memories. If I were to ever have kids of my own, I wouldn’t hesitate to do the same con blue beard y todo.

Feliz navidad!

Three Snapshots of My Mom

My mom sits across from me at the Chinese restaurant in a cramped booth. She puts a cube or wobbly cherry red Jello into her mouth. She tries to push it through the gaps where her teeth used to be, but the Jello is too slick. It slides out the side of her mouth and onto the table. We laugh and laugh.

***

We’re home alone. My mom decides we’re going to bake a chicken. She rinses it off in the sink and rubs salt and pepper on it. “Here, hold the oven bag,” she says.

I stand there, holding the bag just like she asked. She drops the chicken into the bag and it falls through the bag onto the linoleum floor. We laugh and laugh, neither of us can stop. I imitate the chicken several times as if a chicken carcass could have fallen and landed any other way. It is forever our little inside joke.

***

Mrs. Raney comes in yelling at us about something we don’t understand. We sit there and listen to her. Then my mom and I just look at each other. For some reason, a song pops into my head and I start, “Y los muchachos del barrio la llamaban loca!”

Before long, we are both singing together. Mrs. Raney responds with the same crazy look we gave her and walks away.

Gabi: A Character Study

My sister smells of perfectly brewed fresh coffee and brand new books. She sounds like Arjona, Intocable, y El Trí. She looks like a mosaic with her lightning-struck hair, swimmer’s legs, mocha Frappuccino-colored skin, and chocolate chip mole. To me, she represents gall, strength, intelligence, and compassion.

Reading

Today was one of those really long days. I didn’t have an off period because I covered a class for a colleague so that she could observe her mentee and there was a meeting during my other conference period. I ate lunch quickly, so that I could get caught up with some other things during that time.

Right after school, I had a mentor meeting. We did get this really cool gift pack of some photo albums, a journal, and a box for pics and a light dinner.

After that, I went to a local intermediate school for a reading. There weren’t a lot of people there because there was a basketball game, but the audience was quite attentive. There was this one kid there who was really cool. He was taking pics for the year book, and he seemed to be really into the whole thing.

I heard once that Cisneros said at a conference that readings drained her, but for me, they do the exact opposite. It’s so invigorating to talk to people and sign their books afterward. That’s my favorite part of the whole ordeal.

Feeling Listless: Review 2007: Home - "Investigating the difference between is and isn't."

Feeling Listless: Review 2007: Home - "Investigating the difference between is and isn't."

Awesome piece by Annette.

24Hrs of No TV

I've gone 24 hours without TV. I've done it before and for a longer period of time, but it's just so strange to me today.

Actually, I've been working pretty much the entire day. Here is a recap of my day:

6:10 AM Hit Snooze Button
6:20 AM Grudgingly get out of bed because the alarm is so annoying
6:55 AM Out of shower only to find the cats had knocked down the X-Mas tree
7:00 AM Pouring coffee into my thermos
7:05 AM Yelling at cats because they're trying to trip me
7:10 AM Gathering laptop, lunch, crate, purse, and work bag
7:15 AM Leaving complex for work
7:30 AM Arrive at work, sign in, greet whomever I run into
7:35 AM Rewriting daily to-do list
7:50 AM Room fills up with kids for tutoring, I try to work on to-do list
8:10 AM Bell rings, students leave, and I can get to work on fixing sub letter, alphabetizing folders, and inputing late grades for a class.
9:04 AM Bell rings, greet students, teach class
10:42 AM First class students leave, homeroom students start filing in, as I stand in the hallway colleagues asks when would be a good day to come observe my mad teaching skillz
10:46 AM Hand out Technology Survey to students, pick them up, joke around, tell them that they better be good for sub later.
11:06 AM Students leave, I run down to make extra copies of some assignments, return to classroom for meeting.
11:35 AM Meeting is over, check e-mail, each lunch as I delete and print e-mails.
11:50 AM Gather up G/T crate, late work, purse, lunch bag, and sweater and head out
12:00 PM Head to Starbucks for an afternoon fix
12:15 PM Arrive at Admin building for G/T meeting
12:30 PM Briefly discuss G/T issues with lady in charge, break out laptop and get to work on Student list and letters, ask lady in charge questions as they come up and she wanders in.
3:30 PM Head to Panera for dinner date with Dan the Man.
4:30 PM 99 Cent store to find objects for personification lesson
5:00 PM Get home, gather up laundry, check mail
5:20 PM Grade late work, log into grade book, pick up laundry
7:00 PM Work on lesson plans and resources
9:00 PM Send out millions of e-mails hoping to delegate some duties
10:00 PM Check out daily reads (blogs) and talk to Billy
11:00 PM Start thinking about heading to bed

Thank baby Jesus it's almost Saturday! Although I feel so accomplished, it sucks to work so much becuse it takes time away from the one thing I love: writing.

You’ve Been Promoted!

When I’m not being obscured with expectations, I find that statement funny. People think that just because I’m teaching a higher grade that qualifies as a promotion. I have more work because I’m learning/testing the depth of the curriculum I teach, figuring out how to best teach writing for a water downed test, and learning to deal with a whole new animal then it is a promotion. But then when you look at my pay stub, it’s actually still the same. I’m getting less respect in the classroom than before and some of the people that I work with now haven’t even really acknowledged that I’m on their team. In fact, some of them still give me the very strained good morning that I got before.

Mix Ups

I’ll tell ya though, it’s been quite interesting with people getting me all mixed up about whether I’m still teaching sixth grade or now in seventh. Today, a new kid came into my class. So of course, I gave him a seat and gave him his homeroom assignment. Then, I asked him to see his schedule so that I could ask a kid to help him get to his next class and tell him where he sits for lunch. However, when I looked at his schedule, it looked strange because he had PE 3rd period and 7th graders have PE 4th. So I looked at it again, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Then, it finally clicked.

“Are you a sixth grader?”

“Yes,” he said meekly.

I’m sure this kind of stuff will continue for the rest of the semester if not year.

Why I Will Continue to Teach Seventh Grade

The sixth graders that I had this year were really a great bunch. They were like no other group of students I’ve had.

So many people complained and complain about them, but the students that I had, man, they were awesome. On reading days, there were but a few who I had to get onto once in a while. For the most part, the others were very interested in reading. Their reading interests were so varied. They knew what they liked to read and made it a point to bring it to class.

Teaching them as like wearing your favorite jeans. They knew where I would give a little; I knew where they would give a little. Things went smoothly in class because I had laid out procedures that worked for both them and me.

Before I broke them the news, the thought of how they would take the news invaded my mind like Bush and Iraq. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t shake off the guilty feeling.

So many of them sent me feathers for the annual NJHS Turkey Feather Sale, and it’s a constant stream of hugs and hellos every time I set foot outside my classroom. At least one of them will visit me daily just to say hello, catch up on what they’re doing, or to tell me that they miss me.

I know that once my inherited students and I get into the swing of things, I might build the relationships (I already have with some), have smooth-running procedures, and they will learn to meet my expectations, but I still feel like my sixth graders and I were robbed. Today, when one of those sixth graders, who I really just clicked with, stopped by to say hello and chat, I knew that there is no way I can leave seventh grade the upcoming year. I’m going to have to stick to it one more year. Then after that, I can move back down, especially if I’m still convinced that I was born to teach 6th grade.

An Update for Those Who Insisted

The Day of the Dead lesson was awesome. I really, really enjoyed the last week with my 6th graders. They seriously are, by far, the best group of kids I’ve had.

My first week of seventh grade ended pretty badly. The kids were worn out from testing and I was worn out from covering classes for teachers who were out. I don’t mind covering a class here and there, but twice in one week, that’s a bit excessive. Anyway, there were many times that I thought, why did I decide to move up again?

This week has been better. I hope I don’t jinx myself by saying that. It has though. I also like my schedule. I used to get a break after every class which was sweet. Now, I have all of my breaks in the morning and then I power through the afternoon. For some people this would suck, but for me, since I’m not exactly a morning person, it’s perfect.

November 1st, I got to attend a reading by Tato Laviera. That was the most amazing thing ever. It was so cool. It was even better that I got to go break bread with him afterward. If you haven’t read any of his work, you seriously need to go out and find one of his books. I highly recommend reading his poem titled “Graduation Speech.”

This weekend a group of girls from work and I are going camping. Well, we’re going city slicker camping because we rented a cabin. It should be really fun. That’s been my motivation to not leave my grading done until the end of the week. I have to stay on the ball now that I have athletes in my class. The coaches constantly want to know their grades.

Last Hurrah

This week is my last week as a sixth grade teacher. Yes, normally people wait until the end of the year, but since the last time I wrote here, a 7th grade teacher has resigned her position “effective immediately.” This has, of course, left a large group of kids up a creek without a paddle. Sure, they have a sub whose been filling in with lesson plans other teachers have put together, but they’re not lesson plans for those kids. They’ve been winging it, and honestly, I don’t blame them. I mean, it’s very time consuming to plan for yourself, much less for someone else.

Anyway, as you can imagine, my do-gooder self decided to take on the challenge. Do I regret it? At times, yes, very, very much, but I can’t back down now, and I know that those 7th grade kids need a familiar face.

A new teacher has been hired to take my place in sixth grade. My current students were pretty upset over it. I told them Friday and their response was either, “Noooooooo” or “You’re a traitor!” Some of them seem to be consoled with the possibility of having me next year and others were happy to hear that I’d still be around in case they needed me. Still, telling them was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I’ve really taken the relationship of this “Rigor, Relevance, and Relationship” theme to heart and built a relationship with more kids than ever.

It seems very fitting that my last week with my students I get to work on the Day of the Dead unit. I can’t wait. I’ve been thinking about this week for about a month. This year, many of my colleagues and I have ended up in the lower part of the dip a lot earlier that November. I think many of us have made ourselves at home there (It's not true that it's just for new teachers, we all feel it). We just sit around slinging back “coffee” after “coffee.” So it’s given me time to think about Día de los muertos a lot. Tuesday we begin the preparations. I’ll try to get some pics of the altar to put up.

Low Point

I’ve started monitoring comments again because of comments like the last one in my last entry. I’m happy people have religion in their lives, just don’t post it on my space…bastards.

I woke up this morning in a very reflective mood that quickly put me in a very negative state of mind. I started thinking of everything I hadn’t done and all of the things I currently can’t change about my job. At this point, all I really want is to be able to spend time in my classroom, working with my students, and planning their instruction. I’m not interested in attending another meeting or another staff development to learn another strategy. I have learned plenty of strategies in my 80+hrs of staff development this summer; I really don’t need any more for now. I promise, I’m golden.

I know it’s not anything anyone can help right now, and I’m okay now. The strategies that I can implement from today’s staff development have already been discussed and the rest are going to sit on my bookshelf until I get to them or need them.

Anyway, I had a rough couple of weeks in regard to time and Friday was just one of those days where the monkeys fling their fecal matter at the ceiling fan and it ends up all over your nice things. I decided that afternoon that this weekend I would dedicate it to my mental sanity. So I slept, read, and watched movies.

Saturday night I spent it on our new sofa reading Sherman Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. I read it until I was finished because I knew that otherwise, it wouldn't happen. I got it from one of the staff developments I had to attend last week. It was really entertaining. I loved that it had illustrations. I thought about not putting it on my bookshelf because it gets a little edgy, but after the conversation I had with my department head today, I think it needs to go up there. (The narrator mentions masturbation once and it’s got a few curse words.)

Saturday afternoon, we ventured out to see 3:10 to Yuma. I really enjoyed it. I’m not one to watch westerns so I was surprised that I really liked it. It also helped that Christian Bale was in it. He’s pretty easy on the eyes.

We also watched Halloween, the Rob Zombie remake. It was pretty good. I liked it a lot better than the original. Fraility was pretty good, too. Hostel left a lot to be desired. Hollywoodland was pretty unclimatic for me. I think I took a nap while it was on. Lastly, we watched a mocumentary that follows a first-year-teacher, administrator, and some three-year-teachers during a school year titled Chalk. That was really pretty good. Dan the Man was a little upset when he found out it wasn’t an actual documentary. But it was dead on with its portrayal of the first year. I was having flashbacks watching that poor teacher struggle with his students. When it was over Dan the Man asked, “So you’re still within that crucial first three year period. How likely are you to quit?”

I guess that could be one reason why I woke up acting like a grumpzilla. It could also be that we’re hitting that low point in the year. Whatever it is, I’m planning on having many more relaxing weekends. Regardless of whether I bring work home on the weekends or not, I’m still not getting home until 6 or 7 and doing more work at home, might as well start enjoying my me time. It's just one of those life lessons I need to have to collect.

Nuevas

I sort of disappeared off the face of the planet after last time. I’ve just been, well, busy, as usual. It’s like it never ends. I’m not complaining, just saying.

Yesterday, my brother’s wife gave birth to their second kiddo. His name is Jorgito and he weighed 8lbs 1oz, rather exciting. She wasn’t supposed to have him for another week, but she was losing fluids so they were forced to go through with a C-section. He kept saying how he’d wished she was going to have him while I was there so I could see him, and sure enough.

So yeah, I’m going to El Paso this weekend. I’m going to read at the Great Southwest Book Fair. I’m pretty psyched. Here are the details in case you happen to be in El Paso:

Date: September 29, 2007
Time: 1:00 p.m.
Place: El Paso Public Library
Address: 501 N. Oregon, El Paso, TX 79901


Tomorrow is parent night. One of the veteran teachers came into my room and said, “I love the way your room feels. It’s so bright. I think you’re ready for tomorrow.”

All I did was slap up some student work this morning. I’ve been having them do a ton of projects with the novel we’re reading (My Father, the Angel of Death). Currently, they’re creating their own wrestler. It’s been pretty cool. Today, my appraiser walked into my room. The kids were working on their wrestler and I was organizing some folders. One kid came up to my desk to ask me a question and said, “Mrs. W is in the room.”

She walked around and talked to the kids about their wrestlers and went along her merry way. Yesterday morning, she also walked into my room as I was telling the kids that they had to read their own book (we’d just finished reading a chapter from the novel). The kids were begging for me to read them another chapter. Then they asked if they could read another chapter on their own to which, I of course, said yes. Then someone near the front told her how great the book was and I heard her say, “Yeah, I know, I’ve read it.”

I used to worry so much about the walk-thru’s and observations my first year. Last year, I stopped caring so much, and this year, I just don’t care. I have so many great kids, and I’ve become so much better about keeping them busy and entertained. There’s still the whole issue of finding fun assessments for parts of speech, but hey, I think I’m in this for the long run so maybe this coming summer I’ll focus on parts of speech.

I’m off to pack and prepare my fancy outfit for tomorrow. If you’re in Houston this weekend, don’t forget to go check out the Latino Book Festival at the George R. Brown Convention Center.

Bueno, have a good weekend.

Good Day

Today I met with mom from previous post. She okayed for her kid to read two novels A Long Way from Chicago and The Watson’s Go to Birmingham—1963. She said her daughter didn’t feel comfortable reading any of the other novels. That’s fine.

In the meantime, my students are begging me to keep reading to them from My Father, the Angel of Death. Today, I had them do this activity that helps them learn to draw connections. I typed up a list of names, words, etc. from the text. Then, I had them cut out all of the words and glue them onto a large piece of paper. Tomorrow, they will have to draw lines to the words that have something in common. Some of the kids were able to start on that last step. I heard many of them saying it was fun and I even had to go over and take away an assignment from a student because we had to leave for the library.

Then, in the library, I completely lost track of the time one period. One student came up to me and said, “Ms. Baeza it’s already 1:18.”

I gathered up all my kiddies. When we were standing by the door, I said to the student who reminded me about the time, “Thank you so much. I was having such a good time I forgot about the time.”

“I know, I was having fun, too,” he replied.

It made my little teacher heart smile. I love our new librarian. I love my job, too. I like being around these kids. When we go the libaray, I dismiss from there. So I end up in the 8th grade hallway and I love standing there. So many kids say hello to me. And yesterday, the 8th grade boys had their first game (they were my students my first year) and I was so proud to see so many of them in their jerseys.

Last teacher story of the day, I promise. I have a student, who came to me about a week ago, and he’s been in all sorts of trouble. Apparently, he’s got a past or whatever. Monday I was out for a GT meeting and the sub left me his name, so I gave him detention. Anyway, after lunch some teachers asked me for his name because he’d apparently had a confrontation with another student. Earlier that day, I’d asked him to fix his pants and shoes (they like to leave them untied and show off the front of their shows; the untied is a problem b/c they might fall and the other stuff I don’t know why they tell us to tell them to fix it); he fixed them right away.

When I get everyone working, I pulled him aside. “What’s the deal?”

“Nah Ms. It’s just that the sub…”

“Look, do you want me to change my first impression of you? That first day of school, I went home and talked about you because you were so respectful and I was so impressed. You know teachers talk don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“When they say stuff about you, I always say you’re great in my class. I don’t want that to change. Can you please be the guy I remember that first day? For me?”

He looked back at me with his eyes shiny with tears and nodded his head yes. I really hope he stays out of trouble. He’s a bright kid who has it.

I write all this because this morning, I went by the store to get some flowers for my friend. Today marked the 7th anniversary of her mom’s death. On my way to and from my car, I got soaked. My shoes were wet, my pants soaked up the water up to my mid-calf, and my shirt got wet. I felt so icky. My feet hurt and the blisters on my feet from the shoes I wore on Monday were killing me. I also didn’t have a chance to get breakfast because my shopping trip took longer than planned. But I was rewarded, I made my friend smile, the cafeteria manager prepared breakfast for the staff, and I felt like I actually made somewhat of a difference today.

Parents and the New Addition

If you know me in the “real world,” this will probably all be old news to you. Nonetheless, I still want to talk about it.

School has been going well. Talking with one of my good friends at school, I realized what it was that seems so off about this year; I don’t have a class that I dread. I really hope it stays that way. It makes the days go by so much faster and I think I do a better job. There are a couple kids that are difficult, but it’s all about staying calm and sticking to the consequences I’ve laid out.

I am having trouble with one parent though. Our school asks that each kid have a permission slip for each novel that we read as a class. It’s a pain in the ass, but it has to be done. After having to chase after kids all of the time last year, I decided that this year, I would send home a letter with the novels and films for the whole year at the beginning of the year and we’d be done with it. The novels we will be reading this year are My Father, the Angel of Death, A Long Way from Chicago, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, The Watsons Go to Birmingham—1963, The Westing Game, and we’ll be watching Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Selena.

I got back most of the letters right away and almost everyone’s parents were okay with my choices. There, as always, was that one parent that just couldn’t do it. She marked no on every single novel and yes on both films. When I asked the kid why, she said she didn’t know. I was pretty upset because well, it sorta threw off my plans. I had an idea of a backup, but I didn’t think I’d have any opposition until The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. And I could handle a novel or two, but all of them. So I had to call mom.

She told me she wanted to meet with me in person to talk about it because she felt that the novels went against her teachings. I told her I’d be available after school and she was more than welcome to stop by my room so we could talk. In the meantime, I talked to the assistant principal and grabbed a copy of all the novels for her to take if she desired.

So mom comes by after school and I try to explain a little more what the novels are about and the whole process of selection and yadda yadda. And she says, “Es que esta niña tiene una imaginacion. Aveces me asusta con las cosas que me pregunta.”

Now mind you, this kid is pretty bright and she’s a good kid. She’s one of the brightest in that class. So I don’t think that the things she’s coming up with are terrible.

Anyway, mom keeps talking and saying she’ll think about it. In the end, she takes the novels. I haven’t heard from her. I’m going to call her sometime next week and see if anything has changed. I doubt it.

At first, I was really upset. I thought, fine, if she wants her to get that kind of an education whatever. But now, that I’ve had some time to think and reflect, I can’t let the student have that kind of education. She loves to read and I need to continue to inspire her and most importantly, I have to help her keep her imagination alive. Sure it’s going to be extra work on my part, but I have to do it if I want to be half of the great teacher I aim to be.

The other thing I wanted to share is that we’ve made an addition to our little family. He came to us about two weeks ago and his name is Smokey.

First Day Part Deux

I had a good first day. My kids were all sweet and nice and tried to pay attention. Some of them cracked me up. One kid was very cordial. When I went to get my homeroom class, he ended up at the front of the line. As we walked down that walkway, he said, “How has your morning been Ms. Baeza.”

There was also the kid who told our principal we’d been making collages. She walked in just to see how the kids were doing. She was impressed that they said they’d been having a great day. They were right though. It was a great day—if only I could find shoes that feel like clouds and all will be well.

One of the best things about the first day of school is seeing all the older students. Seventh graders are the best because they’re the ones that always come back. All of my former students, who I refer to as old sixth graders, wanted to come by to say hello and see the new sixth graders. Half of the ones that came by wanted to be back in my class. It’s nice to be able to turn them away because they deserve to be in a 7th grade class.

First Day

Tomorrow is the first day of school. I was a little nervous this whole weekend, and then I met one of my students today. She’s the younger sister of one of the 8th graders. She came by with her dad and her brother. I told her she’d be in my homeroom and talked to her dad a bit. He saw my poster of Cesar Chavez and told me about having met him in California. It was really cool.

I have to constantly remind myself that this isn’t my first year of teaching and I know a lot more now. My biggest fear is having students like the ones I had my first year—some classes are more challenging than others. But if I make it about building relationships before completely focusing on instruction, I think it will make all the difference. At least that’s what I learned last year.

I’m sure that once I get into super star mode tomorrow all will be great.

Don't Label Me Anti-American

Because I am a proud Chicana, a lot of times I get labeled as "anit-American" or "unpatriotic." This really bugs me. I say the Pledge of Allegience, out loud, every day with my students. When 9-11 happened, I was just as shocked as the rest of the country. I went out and bought ribbon to make bows and put on our fence and I also light candles for those lost in the attacks and the soldiers that have died. However, at the same time, I will wear an anti-war t-shirt and I won’t support Bush.

It breaks my heart that young kids, who can’t even have a beer, are dying for this stupid cause. As I told my friend Shelley the other day, this fight is over an abstract noun, an idea. It’s like if I were to go on a rampage to end Catholicism. Sure, I can burn down churches and bibles, smash saints, and kill priests and their followers, but will I ever really end it? Probably not.

Would I prepare care packages to send to the troops? Drive them home if they don’t have a ride? Cook them meals? Host one in my house? Of course I would, but will I support this fight against terrorism? Hell no. Quit wasting young lives and really protect our country by bringing them home. Take care of them when they come home and they can’t sleep because they’re remembering the horrors of war. When they get sick ten years down the line due to something they were exposed to when they were in your war, don’t schedule their appointment for six months later or pass it off as something they probably got somewhere else.

And now, the irony of it all, illegal immigrants, the ones that we don’t want in this country because they broke the law to get into this country and we will rally together to get them all out, are giving up their lives for this idiotic war. They’re proving that they, indeed, want to be part of this “American dream.” And hey, why is not making the news? Why is the only place I can find a link to this is on a Spanish-speaking news station? Oh, and if they die in battle what about their illegal wife and/or child? Will you give them amnesty? Perhaps after a long, drawn out fight, right?

So if I don’t wear the U.S. flag on my sleeve right now or applaud the monkey for the way he handled 9-11, don’t call me anti-American. It’s just really hard to support the administration that has made me lose hope in the U.S., a very difficult chore.

Thank you President Bush.

Lo que quisiera...

Ricardo Arjona
Adentro
Adiós melancolía

Tengo un domingo en stand by, por si algún lunes te deprime,
Y en la cartera un ánfora que guarda olor a ti,
Tengo boletos de primera fila, para verte despertar por las mañanas,
Tengo la firme convicción, de que si estás me consolido,
Y la sospecha de que ni sospechas cuanto te amo,
Tengo tu foto puesta en la pupila,
Y con tu voz baila el estribo, el yunque y el martillo.

Tengo risas, tengo llantos, tengo un termostato,
Que me enciende cuando estás,
Y que me apaga si te vas
Pa` no morir de la nostalgia.

Adiós melancolía,
Gracias por la compañía,
Pero aquí ya no hay mas sitio para usted.

Adiós melancolía,
Le agradezco la poesía,
Que entre versos hoy me deja confesarle a esta mujer,
Que me saque la lotería cuando la vi.

Tengo una dosis de perdón, por si haces algo que me duela,
Y una canción de más por si algún día la echas de menos,
Tengo un stock de besos sin estreno,
Y un camión de amor del bueno, para ti.

Tengo risas, tengo llantos, tengo un termostato,
Que me enciende cuando estás,
Y que me apaga si te vas
Pa` no morir de la nostalgia.

Adiós melancolía,
Gracias por la compañía,
Pero aquí ya no hay mas sitio para usted.

Adiós melancolía,
Le agradezco la poesía,
Que entre versos hoy me deja confesarle a esta mujer,
Que me saque la lotería cuando la vi.

Hoy cuelgo mis sueños en el pearcing de tu ombligo,
Mientras la melancolía observa y es testigo,
Quiere estar segura, un poco por ti,
Un poco por mí, un poco por celos.

Adiós melancolía,
Gracias por la compañía,
Pero aquí ya no hay mas sitio para usted.

Adiós melancolía,
Le agradezco la poesía,
Que entre versos hoy me deja confesarle a esta mujer,
Que me saque la lotería cuando la vi.

Tengo agua de mar en la bañera, y en la cama aire de cordillera,
Tengo sol de mayo en la nevera, y flores de abril en la escalera,
Tengo un cuarto lleno en primavera, y un beso esperando en la trinchera,
Un jarrón que llora cuando espera, y te tengo a ti por donde quiera.
Y te tengo a ti por donde quiera.

CNN You Tube debate

I was unaware of the debate yesterday. Since I haven't been on You Tube in a while and CNN is not my preferred news channel, it sort of makes sense. I did, however, see an article about it on AOL of all places. Fortunately, CNN is a cable/satellite channel which means reruns.

CNN is treating this thing like MTV treats all of their awards shows—there has been much dialogue, amongst their anchors and pundits, which has spawned from this. I only watched the post dialogue coverage because I was interested in seeing how they rated the different candidates.

One thing that they all keep saying is that it was such a great format and that it could be the wave of the future. Really?

I thought it was really cool that people were able to submit their questions via You Tube, but really, it was just another debate. It didn’t change my mind. They were all still up their in monkey suits and Hillary in her pink coat trying to appear “more female.”

They know better than us, what’s going on. They know what to say to try to convince people to gain their vote. My callousness is sort of surprising. Perhaps it has something to so with the fact that I watched Sicko recently.

I had a lot of hope that this upcoming election would bring the change that the country needs. However, I don’t know that anymore. Yeah, the question format was innovative, but is this going to make people who wouldn’t normally vote go out and vote?

Summer Soundtrack and Books

Earlier this summer, Cindylu posed an important question, “What songs will be playing on your summer soundtrack?” Originally, I had stated that the summer had just begun and there was still time to choose. My summer is almost over, and my summer soundtrack has remained the same.

I don’t think I’ve really added anything new to my music collection. In fact, the things that I have added aren’t anything new, but rather old school songs that allow me to reminisce about the past.

Sometimes I worry when this happens. I start thinking I’m getting old. Having turned 27 this summer and witnessing the invasion of the canas, it became a real worry. I tried listening to the radio to get some good ideas, pero tocan lo mismo all of the time. And music shows on TV drive me nuts. The ADD (I self diagnosed) kicks in y ya estuvo, I start flipping through the milieu of channels we currently have.

I also tried listening to the music they play at Barnes and Noble when I’m there finishing projects, but I get annoyed by all the, “Oh my God! Let’s get some coffee!” from the teenagers trying to be hip and the conversations from the loud asses that congregate there thinking that by being around books will automatically make them smarter.

Maybe this isn’t the summer of music. At least it’s been the summer of movies, writing, and books.

Speaking of which, I wanted to comment on a couple books I’ve read recently. The first is The Invention of Hugo Cabret. Even if you don’t have kids, you will enjoy this book. The format of the book is awesome. It’s a huge book, maybe 500 pgs, but a lot of it is pictures. Anyway, the story is that Hugo’s dad finds this machine; it’s the bust of a man and can write a message. It’s busted and the dad is trying to fix it, but he ends up dying and Hugo ends up living in the train station in Paris. So then, Hugo continues to try fixing this machine and ends up making a couple of friends along the way. I swear the story isn’t so cheesy, but I’m afraid to give away the story. It’s so well done.

I also read an upcoming APP title, Chicken Foot Farm (no linky link yet) by Anne Estevis author of Down Garrapata Road. It’s a sort of coming of age story about Alejandro and the farm where he grew up. The stories are so cute, not at all maudlin by any means. She also doesn’t pigeon hole the story to Tejas. I can’t wait to get a copy of this to share with my students. I don’t know if it’s going to be a Piñata book, but it’s safe for middle schoolers and above.

The other book I want to comment on is Fun Home. I found a review for this book in one of Dan the Man’s comic book geek magazines. It’s by Alexis Bechdel who illustrates and writes Dykes to Watch out For. The novel is a graphic memoir about her coming out and the death of her father. It’s a really quick read, tons of allusions, and I love the ending. It’s a little emotional, but so well done. But my favorite thing about the book is the humor. The descriptions of her dad are way funny, but the funniest thing was reading and seeing illustrations about her OCD.

Anyway, on queue I have Dante’s Ballad, which was done in Spanish first. I'll most likely get started on this tomorrow in hopes of getting it done by Monday. I also have a couple of school books I need to finish reading. Maybe Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile this Sunday will put me in the mood for The Westing Game.

Pranks

Last night was a bad night for me. I stayed up until this morning. I believe I finally made myself go to sleep at 5 AM. All day, I’ve been dragging. I knew a nap would really help, if only I could make myself take a nap. I was flipping through channels trying to find something entertaining yet mind numbing enough to make me fall asleep. On MTV, there was some show that talked about pranks kids did in high school. I was sucked in to this show. I believe I saw two episodes, and at the end of it, I was fuming.

In one, this group of guys and a girl that plotted to shut down the school for a day. One of their friends’ mom, who worked at the school, handed over her keys to them so they could get inside to make phone calls and even game them the secret password needed to cancel school. They got busted and as a punishment, their mothers were to go to school with them. Two of the mothers ended up in the same class. They began talking during instruction and thought it was funny that they’d upset the teacher. They all thought it was a huge joke and that their kids had pulled off a great prank.

Then, there was another group of kids that took over the senior and faculty parking lot. They forced the faculty to park in the junior parking lot. When the pulled up to the group of kids (apparently, they’d gotten the entire Senior class to participate), they would jump on their cars, bang on their windows, squirt water at them with water guns, and tell them to go away. Only after school had started did the district police show up.

Being on the other end of this, it really upset me. It baffles me that parents and society wants to place all this responsibility on teachers and then allow behavior like this. These kids were proud of what they had done. I understand where they’re coming from, but this isn’t anything to be proud about.

I know that if I had pulled some kind of prank like this, my mom would have skinned me alive. I would have been grounded, and my school would have probably pressed charges.

Movies

One of the coolest things this summer for me is that I've actually had time to watch movies. Normally, Dan the Man and I watch a movie a week, but having extra time off allows us to watch more, plus, it’s been raining tons so fishing, going to the beach, swimming, or taking a drive isn’t much fun.

Here is a list of what we’ve seen so far in no particular order:

Hard Candy-this was a really interesting film. It’s about an internet predator.
Quinceañera-I thought this was a little cheesy but kind of cool. A young girl is planning on celebrating her quince, but winds up pregnant. I love the character of the older uncle.
Alpha Dog-I saw the trailer for this last summer and had wanted to see it in theaters, but didn’t get a chance. I really liked this movie. I think Justin Timberlake did an excellent job in it.
Running with Scissors-I found a copy of Augustin Borrough’s copy at the Half Price Bookstore and had been intrigued with it since. I didn’t buy the book. Later, I did get another of his memoirs (Dry.). I thought it was kind or quirky and cool. I might read the book now.
Man of the Year-This was another one of those that I wanted to see in theaters. Dan the Man wasn’t too interested in it. The political commentary was good. I laughed quite a bit. However, if you’re not into politics, this might not be a movie for you.
Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer-Ah, it’s aight. I liked the fist one better. The Silver Surfer was cool though.
Pan’s Labyrinth-I’d wanted to see this movie for a long, long time. I was so glad I finally did. I loved it.
Knocked Up-I was amazed at what a chick flick this turned out to be. I thought this was going to be more of a comedy. Still liked it though and I would watch it on video again because at the end of the movie there are bonus kiddie pics from the cast.
The Godfather-“I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse” now I know where that line came from! I still think I like the second part better. Al Pacino was good looking when he was young.
Love Actually-Another chick flick. I really enjoyed this one though. I like when movies tell many stories at once.
Bobby-This was an excellent film about RFK. Again, this movie involved following many different character’s lives. Even though RFK’s assassination happened a couple decades ago, the issues still remain.
The Holiday-Total chick flick that had me gushing the whole time. I didn’t know it was possible.
Ocean’s 11-Mmm Brad Pitt.
Ocean’s 12-Mmm Brad Pitt again.
Ocean’s 13-Mmm Brad Pitt yet again. I liked all of the Ocean’s movies. Only in the movies do they convince you to cheer for the bad guys.
1408-I couldn’t wait for it to be over.
Blood Diamond-I’d read the abridged version of this film in one of many magazines Dan the Man likes to waste money on. *Spoiler alert* I was glad DiCaprio’s character died. I really hope it makes people stop spending insane amounts of money on diamonds.
Ratatouille-AWESOME.
Transformers-Tons of action, but there were some very disturbing remarks about women. Also, the Puerto Rican guy keeps being told to stop speaking Spanish and is wounded and never heard of again.

Here’s what I’m planning to see later this summer:

The Godfather III
Requiem for a Dream
Run Lola Run
Priscilla, Queen of the Desert
Hostel
Almost Famous
The Queen
The Last King of Scotland
Music and Lyrics
Sicko (I’d like to see it, but I don’t know if it’s going to happen)
Hotel Rwanda
The Simpsons Movie
Hairspray
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry
The Bourne Ultimatum
Waitress
A Mighty Heart

I’ve also been reading. Maybe I’ll post an entry with all the stuff I’ve read.

Anglers

After a two hour wait at the Saturn dealer and a long excursion through Harris and Montgomery counties, we finally found a place which seemed conducive to our activity for the day: fishing.

It was ironic to me that being in an area with so much water; we couldn’t find a place to fish for free. We weren’t intending on keeping any of the fish since neither of us really knows how to gut them and Dan the Man only has a vague idea of how to filet one taken some from memory and the rest from the packaging of the filet knife.

We finally ended up at the Sheldon Lake docks when I followed my instincts and turned right on a road. The only drawback of this lake is that it’s infested with alligators and water moccasins.

Despite the gators, heat, and not getting even a nibble, it was pretty neat. I learned how to cast my pole. Maybe next time I'll actually catch something.