State of the Nation

Okay, so not really the Nation, Nation, but my little nation, you know, my corner of the world. 

Things have been ah. For like a week there, I was prancing on cloud nine. But here lately, things have hit a whole new level of suck. There have been broken cars, unwelcome houseguests, arguments, deceased pets, work disappointments, and new levels of negativity.

At this point, the only thing that keeps me going is that crazy optimism that lingers around even if it’s just a faint hint of fog in the air. The one where those major moments of joy and excitement play over and over.

I’m very excited that school is almost over. We have exactly seven days left. Well, eight if you count Saturday which I will be spending with the choir kids at Fiesta Texas. But really, who counts a field trip in which kids who actually like you get to hang out with you and you get to ride roller coasters? It will be a long day, but incredibly fun. 

Bendita tu luz

As she looked for another puzzle piece that fit, the light was in that dangerous zone of melancholy that Sunday night. “I didn’t tell you that the agency we were with closed.”

I felt my stomach drop with overwhelming sadness and impotence. “That’s terrible,” was all I could say. What else does one say at the sound of devastating news? I’m sorry? 

Wednesday afternoon, I was sitting at my desk at school hammering out another word parts quiz for the kids when my phone rang. I can’t recall the exact greeting, but what I do remember is her voice on the other end saying, “I have a baby.”

“What?”

“I have a baby. The agency called me today. They have a baby girl for me.”

I remember thinking is this really for real? There were tears and congratulations and more tears. 

It’s not every day that people’s dreams come true. 

Dramatic Irony

There is a person in my family that is really, really sick. She’s been sick for a while and most of us know, but there is one person that hasn’t been told, my mom. I know it’s wrong to hide such a big thing from her, but this person has decided that they would rather she not know since my mom’s health is pretty fragile as well.

So many misunderstandings have occurred because of this secret--things that if it were out in the open wouldn’t be much of a big deal. But there is nothing I can do. It is up to that person to come clean.

In the meantime, I continue talking with my mom and feeling like I’m watching a Shakespeare play with the dramatic irony unfolding right before me.

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A couple months ago when I mentioned my niece being shipped out to war, it didn’t happen because she rolled her ankle and had to have surgery and a brace, etc.

Today she’s finally on her way. I say finally because that’s what she makes it sound like. She told me the other day that she wanted to leave already so that she could get back to see her little brothers.

Strange how she had to leave Easter weekend out of all the weekends. We’ve talked a bit on Yahoo when she wakes up and signs in on her phone. I need to find a St. George candle.

There are so many things I want to tell her, but I’m also trying to remain positive about the whole situation. I just hope she knows, knows how much I love her and hope she's safe and think about her.

Pre AP

Last week for a meeting I was holding, I shared a “My Turn” piece from Newsweek about a mother who has an autistic son and a gifted daughter. She discussed the discrepancy in education between the two. She wonders what would happen if the education system spent even a portion of the funds dedicated to her special needs child on her gifted child.

Ironically, in this meeting, we were told that next year, we would no longer have Pre Advanced Placement Science. We went from Pre AP being offered for all core classes down to three, now it’s two. I wonder which will be the next to go. Perhaps the whole program will go away.

I know all this has to do with funding, but it still infuriates me. It’s so unfair how little is spent to foster some of the talents gifted children have. I suppose it goes with the culture of the country for the past eight years of placing little value on intelligence. Perhaps this will soon change…

The Con Artist

This year has been one of many trials and tribulations. There have been times when I don’t know if I’m going to make it, and other times that I just want to cross my arms, give up, and pout. But I know that if I don’t go through that, then the cool things won’t be as cool. 

Monday morning was our first day back from our Spring Break. Our tutoring time has basically turned into TAKS prep time for our homeroom students. This is a waste of time for my homeroom because they’re the Pre-AP bunch that has consistently done well on the exams. I’ve grown tired of bucking the system on this, so I’ve given in for the time being. Anyway, that morning, one of my students walks in and asks where she can put a tri-fold poster board. Even though my class is cluttered and overrun with student desks, my kids always ask me to hold stuff because I’m one of the few that will, I’m on the way out of the building, and I’m always there after school. So I didn’t think much of it. Later, curiosity got the best of me, so I opened up the tri-fold poster board.

Upon opening, I discovered Shakespeare information. This kid had gone home during the break and on her own, looked up more information, and put together this poster board and made it look “preeety.” I was shocked and honored. See, before the break, my students had done some research on Shakespeare’s life and times. Then we’d read some adaptations of King Lear, Twelfth Night, and Othello. The kids had really gotten into it. They were upset when the bell rang on Friday before we left for Spring Break because “it was just getting good!” 

We finally finished reading Othello yesterday. We had such cool conversations about who was the real villain, what the characters could have done differently, what kind of injustices exist in our times and how they are similar to Shakespeare’s.

I shared this with the people at my training today, and one lady couldn’t believe I had gotten 7th graders so interested in Shakespeare. Then, when she thought I wasn’t hearing, she dismissed the idea of teaching this because she “woudn’t want to step on any toes,” meaning that Shakespeare should be reserved for high school. Well, that’s her opinion. In the meantime, I will continue conning my kids into learning things they might otherwise hate because someone may not take the time to draw them in.

Mr. Hinz

On my Facebook status earlier this week, I posted about being on spring break and limiting the work to a maximum of three hours, which turned out to be a total lie. I spent three hours yesterday browsing bookshelves, doing research, typing up my quick start power point, and planning out lessons. I still have to grade some things, enter the grades onto the online system, find a decent Othello clip, create the Othello summary sheet, and type up my lesson plans. That could easily take up all of today and half of tomorrow. I don’t know that I’ll dedicate that much time, but I’m definitely dedicating the rest of the afternoon today. 

So before I get back to school and life gets all crazy, I want to spend some time remembering one of the reasons I went into teaching.

I’ve always been one of those people that will bend backwards for friends and family. I mostly do this because it makes me feel good to help out others. When I was in high school, I had a friend who used to get to school really, really early. The band room didn’t open until 7:30 AM so a lot of times, she was left sitting outside for a long time. So me, being me, would get there really early, too. It also worked for me because I hated being seen walking to school on the other side of the canal and I really hated crossing the four lane street during morning rush hour.

We used to meet by the rock wall/bench in front of the hallway where most of our classes were. A lot of times we sat there doing homework or reading. When the chill of fall started to greet us in the morning, I’d often arrive to find the rock wall/bench empty. A few minutes later, my friend would come out of Mr. Hinz’s class, our Algebra teacher, and invite me to his class.

Mr. Hinz was this very tall and loud man. He walked with a limp and wore a brace on one of his knees. He once told us that he’d been injured while working on the Panama Canal when he was in the military. He had tons of toys and knick-knacks displayed throughout the classroom. He often wore vests and khaki shorts and a button that said “He with the most toys wins.” And he always, always had his radio tuned to the oldies station The Fox 92.3 FM. I loved going into his classroom because it was a place that I felt I could work.

My friend and I had the same exact schedule all day long. So of course, we would go everywhere together. When Mr. Hinz would see us walking down the hall, he would announce, “Here come the Bobbsey Twins!”

We would always giggle. It never bothered or embarrassed us. We just took it as one of the things Mr. Hinz did. 

We had our blocked algebra class with him. He would teach his lesson, show us a couple of ways to find the answer, and give us time to practice. During the practice time, he would always turn on the radio to the oldies station. Sometimes, I would misbehave by talking or laughing too much during practice time. Surprisingly, he only kicked me out of his class once.

For Christmas, the class decided we wanted to have a gift exchange. We were an uneven number, so he threw his name into the hat. When the day of the exchange came, he gave me a box wrapped in the comics. I thought it was odd and he laughed at my face. When I opened it up, there was another box inside wrapped up nicely with post office paper and raffia bow. Inside was a beautifully crocheted white stocking. His wife had made it for me. It was something I hung onto for years. I’d never really had a stocking before that.

The next year, we had moved onto Geometry, so we no longer had Mr. Hinz. He had however nominated me for Honors Geometry since I had a consistent A average in his class. When he saw my friend and I in the hallway, he still continued to call us by our nickname. Sometimes he referred to us as “slothmores.”

The day of my graduation, I was elated to be done with high school. The future was chock full of potential. When I was walking around the grounds afterward to find my family, I ran into Mr. Hinz who gave me a hug and said, “You’re super kid.”

Such a simple little phrase that looks so cheesy on paper, but it’s something that’s stuck with me all these years. In a place where one could easily get lost in the masses, he made sure my friend and I were someone worthy of announcing in the hallway. He gave us a place to hang out and made sure we moved on with some knowledge of Algebra. He also made sure I knew what I was worth.

When the teaching worm starting working its way around my brain, I thought back to this experience. Mr. Hinz was part of this superhero teacher crew at our high school. The superhero teacher crew that cared about kids and wanted us to make it, and I owe it to him to pay it forward. 

The Rubber Room

For the last couple of months, as a means to maintain my sanity, I’ve taken to putting myself to sleep with a Podcast. I usually listen to Latino USA or recently, This American Life.

The other night, I was listening to This American Life #350 Human Resources. One of the segments was about The Rubber Room. In New York City, when a teacher can’t be fired because investigations are still being done they are sent to an office off campus where they wait, and wait, and wait until they are either terminated or reinstated. During this time, they are paid their full salaries and there are some who have been there for years.

When Dan the Man came to bed after a few rounds of Madden, I slurred the facts of the story to him. “What?”

More slurred, blurry facts.

“Whatever, you’re lying. You’re just dreaming and making this up.”

“No, I’m not. It’s true.”

Then, as quickly as I woke up, I passed out again. When I woke up the next day, I remembered the conversation and thought I must have been sleeping. So I listened to the Podcast again, and sure enough, I was right.

Since then, I’ve been having nightmares about work. These nightmares come at night or during my daydreams and I zone out while cleaning or showering. I doubt anything like that would happen to me, but it’s sad to think that it does happen.

I know some of those people are to blame and they probably did something ridiculously obtuse—something children should never have to witness. However, I know there are some in there that don’t deserve to be there, but because they used their voice, they got on someone’s crap list.

It also makes me wonder, is there such a place in Houston?

The Problem with Education

I’ve been out of the loop this week because I had to make an impromptu visit to Dallas for a funeral. It was interesting to return home and check my usual websites and listen to my regular radio station and people were squawking about Education in America. I find it interesting that the people who make the most negative claims about education are normally those who have been out of the loop or have never even been in a classroom have the most to say.

They are right, public education for the most part sucks. It is not preparing the type of future generations that this nation or world needs. Here is what I see as the “problem” with education.

Teachers

There are some bad teachers in our schools. Heck, I know we have at least one confirmed bad teacher at our school. No, it’s not one that the administrators claim to be bad, but one that the kids have said is bad. Why do I listen to the kids? Because these kids have come to me to say, “Ms. we’re not learning anything in Mrs. X’s class. We have been reviewing the state mandated exam for a week now and we’ve been on the same question the whole time.” This same teacher refuses to adhere to our campus literacy plan, and she is a reading teacher. Also, she has awful classroom management. I’ve had to sub for her class and have witnessed it first hand—the lack of procedures, no “go to activity” when kids are done with work. Next year, she will still be around because she brown noses enough so that they find a way to keep her.

Then there are those who are there for the easy hours. And they truly are easy for them because as soon as their duty time is over, they are gone. Heck some of them are racing the kids to the parking lot. These teachers are kept around because their kids do fairly well on state mandated exams. And they should do well, this teacher’s lesson plans include a fair amount of test practice since it’s readily available material.

Lastly, teachers don’t use their voice outside the classroom. In our classrooms, we are the dictators. We create our own little worlds where we are the sole leaders and all must do as we say. But outside of that, we are followers. We allow those who are not aware of the ins and outs of our jobs to tell us what we need and should do. Those that do use their voice end up reprimanded or fired.

State Mandated Exams

I’m not against them. I think there should be some sort of exam that holds me accountable so that I don’t wake up one day and decide, I’d rather teach art than Language Arts. Plus, I want my kids to know how much they have learned. I want them to get their score back and know that they are capable. 

However, I don’t want my entire life dictated by these exams. When preparation for these exams takes precedence over real learning there is a huge problem. Now some people may think, “Isn’t that the whole purpose? Shouldn’t you have to teach a certain amount of standards and then kids be tested on it to make sure you’ve taught what you need to teach?”

Yes, of course. But herein lies the problem, we are not just teaching a few standards, we are teaching load of standards. Currently, our English Language Arts Standards repeat each year. It would be impossible to teach any of those things in depth. That’s not going to help our cause. If I teach say roots and affixes at a superficial depth, do you think kids are going to remember next September? Some may, but most don’t. So next year’s teacher feels like they need to start all over again because “no one has taught these kids anything,” and when it’s all said and done, that teacher is only able to teach the same concept superficially because the kids didn’t learn it the first time. This happens year after year until the get to high school or college and the student realizes they really don’t know anything.

Sometimes the answer isn’t to add more to your plate, but to take some off. That’s what needs to happen here. This would change the way we teach. We may have to say goodbye to some of our favorite lessons, but maybe true learning will occur then—the kind that forces/allows kids to acquire knowledge.

Parent Involvement

Lastly, there is parent involvement in the higher grade. I can’t tell you the number of times I have called parents to discuss a student only to be hung up on or the phone has not been answered. I’ve sat in on numerous parent conferences knowing that everything I was saying or suggesting was going in one ear and out the other. 

This week, I spent a few days with a second grader whose homework was to read 20 minutes and study math facts for 10. By the time 9 PM rolled around, she had done neither. Even if she had wanted to read, there weren’t any books around. It made me think of my students. Their parents are probably the same. 

It is the job of parents and teachers to educate children. If a kid’s home life doesn’t value education, guess what the kid will do.

If anyone is going to truly do anything about education, they are going to have to read the research, employ some of the good theories out there, form a council of real teachers that are still in the classroom, and most importantly, not be so quick to judge. Good teachers bust their butts every day fighting an army of giants while answering 30 e-mails, grading papers, attending meetings, serving on committees, and delivering rock star performances to their students. 

Tal vez me voy...

Of Mishaps, Accidents, and Change

I have not had very good days lately. Yesterday, I was sent home from work because my craziness got me all antsy and sickly. Today, in an attempt to clean the apartment for the impending Super Bowl festivities tomorrow, I managed to do the following:

1.       Spill an entire bottle of perfume on the bathroom floor
2. Break the bucket used to hold the mopping solution
3. Proceed to get water all over the carpet and bathroom floor
4. Break off the top of the bath towel chest dropping everything that was on top of it on the wet bathroom floor
5. Slip on water and almost fall

I still have to wash dishes (I did manage to break a glass while doing dishes), get a haircut, and get my mail from the post office*. So much room for more accidents.

THEN, there was the botched project at work. I totally ruined this event we were planning because I was dilly dallying around. I really hope I can find a new work home for next year. I’m so done being a headless chicken. People say it’s me because I do like to work and be useful and make people happy, but I have had jobs that I’ve done all of the above and still had time to come home and cook dinner and exercise and spend time with people I love. I try to rationalize all the work that I do by saying, “It’s for the kids.” Because when you think about it, it does come down to being about the kids, but I can’t save the world. I have this mentality that believes that even if I don’t teach all those kids, I can touch their lives by educating their teachers. But I can’t because some of their teachers are headstrong or have better ideas or just don’t care, and I don’t have the power to change that. Maybe I will finally get the picture.

*There was a furnace explosion near the office at our complex. The explosion burned down two apartments, our mail center, and the office. Had I mentioned this before?

No. 44

Oh my God, it is really, really true. I cannot even put into words the immense, overwhelming, absolutely wondrous feeling in my heart.

We Must Be the Change We Wish to See in the World...

I saw that quote a couple weeks ago on a cup at the Barnes and Noble café. I’m not much of a quote person. I get too curious about what else it says and if it was taken out of context or what.

But that Gandhi quote really resonated with me.

All around, people keep squawking about change and things are actually changing. You could hear the earth rumbling last year and then it picked up speed at the end of ‘08. At times it seems like they’re coming so hard and fast, they might crush a few of us against the wall.

It’s a little daunting to think of what is to come. Normally, I’m the kind of person that enjoys change, but I don’t know what it is that has me freaking out. Perhaps it’s the uncertainty of it all. The fear of falling face first on the ground. I know all of these things are normal, but I hate feeling them. I want that hopeless optimism to kick in already, and at the same time, I know it probably won’t until I make peace with all of this change.

And really, what I put in is what I will get out of this whole experience enter the Gandhi quote. Overall, I think 2009 will bring more of the good stuff and less of the crap that 2008 spewed out at the end. If anything, The Bush will be out of office; so it really can’t be that bad.

When my butt starts scraping the dirt, the Gandhi quote will be my mantra. 

No New Year's Resolution Here

So it’s a New Year. 2009. I will be 29 later this year. I will have completed my fourth year teaching and start on my fifth. I’ll be eight years into a relationship. I will be one year away from thirty.

Someone asked me what my New Year’s resolution is this year and when I said, “Nothing.” They were shocked. They could not believe that I wasn’t setting a resolution.

When I was taking a writing class a couple semesters ago, our teacher said that he was always interested in writing a story that took place on New Year’s Day. He tried to explain why, but I had one of my J.D. moments where I get lost in thought. I knew exactly what he was talking about. How people think that this year will be the answer to all of their prayers. This year will be the year that they decide to change their lives for the better by not smoking or eating or spending so much time at work or spending less time in front of the TV and more time at the gym.

So many people write against New Year’s resolutions. Then there are those that set their lives to them. I fall in between, I guess. If I really think about it, I have fresh starts so many times a year. There is the end of the school year, my birthday, the start of a new school year, the start of a new semester, and then all of those moments during the year that I decide I should change things or the universe thinks I should.

I’m avoiding the resolutions this year, not because there aren’t things that I want to change in my life, but rather because when they come about, I don’t want to have to wait until January 1^st to do it. In the past, when I’ve made life-altering changes, the date had nothing to do with it. I want to get away from this idea that it must be done at a certain time. 

Flight 2701 to Houston Hobby 3:05 PM

I’m on my way back to Houston after a short holiday visit to El Paso. I have the most beautiful view of the Franklins from my gate. The clouds are rolling over the rumpled earth beneath them. Rolling toward the east, perhaps to meet me in the sadness that settles in every time I have to leave.

It was a great visit. I got to see all of the people that I love and miss. This visit, more than any other, cemented the idea that I have outgrown this place. I love it so much, and I wish that some day, I could come back to live here, but it’s not where I can make my home. The way that people treat one another would probably drive me crazy. I hate how some people think that they are above others.

I wish so much for my mom and brother to move to the Houston area. Things wouldn’t be peachy at first, but it would be so nice to have family around. Sometimes it is so lonely there. So many times there are things that happen that I wish I could have them around to vent or to share joy with. Perhaps someday.

In the meantime, all we have are cloudy skies and teary eyes. 

Live and Direct from El Chuco

Sitting at Barnes and Noble in El Paso having some coffee. Amazingly, the headache that I'd been nursing all day has gone away. Perhaps I am addicted to the caffeine now. What a sad state my life has become.

My rental car is complete awesomeness. It's a Toyota Matrix that uses up hardly any gas and can play my iPod. 

I am enjoying time with the family. Haven't had many thoughts of work which should make many peeps happy although they requested NO thoughts of work. I suppose it's like my caffeine addiction, gotta take it slow. 

When we leave here, I think we're going to go see the Christmas lights in the neighborhood over by Eastwood High. Haven't been there in a while. I hope the decline of the economy hasn't sucked out the Christmas spirit. 

A List

I have thought about updating for days now, but I’ve been stuck in classic me mode. The mode where I have so many things I want and need to do, but become paralyzed and do nothing. Same thing with this blog, so much to blog about, but I just don’t do it. Maybe I’ll try a list. 

1. Lots of not great things have happened with family, friends, and students. You’d think I’d be in horrible spirits, but I’m not. All the things that are happening hurt, but it just seems like a part of life.
   
2. I attended NCTE in San Antonio last week. It was my first NCTE conference and was a bit over stimulated by the end of it. Naomi Shihab Nye made a special appearance at the Middle School Mosaic. Saw Sid Fleischman, Scott Westerfield, Kelly Gallagher, and got to chat with Jeff Anderson for a bit. Anderson is so tall. He truly is like a God. The coolest thing about the whole conference was seeing the CEO of Sesame Street with a special appearance by Grover.
3. My niece, Joann, was in town, too. I got to hang out with her and her husband. She is leaving for Afghanistan Monday, December 1. I usually have a good feeling about events, but I have no idea about this one. I hope she returns safely from her tour. The best-case scenario is that there would be no involvement in Afghanistan, but I doubt that’s going to happen.
4. I will be presenting at NABE in February. I will also be attending the Middle School Conference, and Tuesday I began my tutoring gig. Seems like things will be getting crazy busy once again. Maybe that’s the key to keeping my sanity.

I suppose I’m going to try to clear off some bookshelf space. Maybe I’ll put up the Christmas stuff…

The Fate of Palin

As I thumbed through this week’s edition of Newsweek, I thought of what will happen to Sarah Palin when this election is over. 

Last night, an interview with Palin was aired on 20/20. In the intro, they said something about 60-something days. It was shocking to me that she’s only been involved in this campaign that few days. The other guys have been going on a year and a half at least. They’ve become a common character in my life. If I want to know what ‘s going on with them, all I have to do is turn on the TV, pick up a magazine or newspaper, or check my e-mail. 

Palin came on the scene and stole the attention like a bratty baby sister. McCain chose a woman for his VP pick! Sarah Palin is hot! She doesn’t know anything! Her daughter is pregnant! $150,000 was spent on her wardrobe! Etc.

Had I not voted already, I may have been more critical. However, since voting, I have been overcome with this overwhelming sense of hope. I did my part and so many people around me have, too and I have nothing to fear anymore. This isn’t ’04. I will not face election night with a knot in my stomach wishing for a fourth-quarter pipe dream.

So this morning, I wonder what will happen to Sarah Palin when she returns to Alaska.

Hope

I have a memory of the day we got out for Winter Break my first year of teaching. We’d been given poinsettias at the annual Christmas luncheon and I also had a plant in my classroom that I wanted to bring home in hopes of keeping it alive. So I had a Xerox box loaded with the plants and the gifts I had received from students. I was driving home and a wall of clouds was creating a gray haze that was shielding the sun. I remember stopping at a gas station and wanting to scream. I was so excited about being free for the next two weeks. 

When I’m stressed or knee deep in work, I like to revisit my collection of memories that evoke this feeling of freedom. As I sit here chipping away at my freelance project, I can feel that such a moment is near.  

Dolores and Bernice

Work has pretty much been sucking up any of my free time, which is why I haven’t been around. I’m really behind on my freelance project so I’ll be dedicating my weekend to it. I just sent in my first batch of stuff and I’m a little nervous and excited.

Things are pretty much back to normal around these parts. At times there is a harsh reality check, like when I briefed on a new student I received earlier this week. Her family lost everything during the storm. I was really happy to see the kids taking to her right away.

There are some good and bad things that have happened, but it’s late and I’m tired. I will tell you though, I made the big switch from PC to Mac. It’s the coolest, best thing I’ve done in a while. Dolores, my Mac, makes me so happy. I love having her. Oh, and today, my brain was named Bernice. Peace out.

Don’t forget to vote!!!

Really? This is newsworthy?

Tough talk from Mayor WhiteTuesday, September 23, 2008 7:15 PM By Ted Oberg HOUSTON (KTRK) --

As if he didn't have enough to do, Houston Mayor Bill White is explaining his tough language to some FEMA visitors from Georgia.

It happened in the days just after Ike when it seemed like everyone was frustrated and stressed.

In storms like this, FEMA sends crews from all over the country to help manage the disaster. One of those crews came from Georgia to dispatch trucks of food and ice to points of distribution, or PODs. Mayor White thought they weren't getting the job done and the governor of Georgia got offended when White told them so.

Surrounded by trash, living with marginal power and dealing with the long effects of a storm can make people angry.

"They ain't picked up my (expletive) trash yet," said resident Third Ward Kenneth Allen. "Hell yeah, I still feel the effects of the storm."

We're not proud of it and it doesn't sound real nice, but when there's no AC, heated language is a little understandable, maybe even coming from our Mayor White.

Last Tuesday morning, Mayor White visited the thousands of people in line at the TSU POD. All the supplies had been sitting overnight at Reliant Stadium. The mayor wasn't happy.

"That is not going to happen again," said Mayor White to the media in the days after the storm.
What he didn't say from that podium is that before the trucks started rolling, some tough words rolled off his tongue. According to a city witness, he told some FEMA workers from Georgia dispatching trucks, to "Get those (expletive) trucks moving" and "You better get your (expletive) act together."

Apparently, those Georgia workers' feelings bruise easier than a Georgia peach. They tattled on our mayor and the Georgia governor wrote Texas Governor Rick Perry a letter saying, "I would not tolerate the profane berating of Texas or Georgia volunteers here...and I trust that you do not either."

Governor Perry wrote back, saying he was dismayed and offered his sincerest apologies.
"Now there's a feud between Georgia and Texas," said Allen.

People who stood in the long TSU lines don't think our mayor needs to do a thing.
"I commend the mayor," said Allen. "Because if someone dropped the ball, he should get on their (expletive)."

"I think he's human," added Third Ward Tonya Wyche. "I think he's stressed and I would've said something worse than that."

Tuesday in Washington, the mayor explained his words and isn't backing down.
"I always feel bad if I hurt someone's feelings," he said. "I was trying to get people moving quicker and trying to provide a little incentive to do so."

If not for the involvement of two governors, this sure would seem like a little deal. And it does seem like a little deal to the guy who supervises the Georgia workers. He told me on Tuesday that they've been yelled at by a lot more people than Mayor White and they understand how he lost his cool.
____________________________________________________________________

I can't believe anyone would waste time writting letters and complaining about this. The truth is, while Perry and Bush twiddle their thumbs, White has been working his butt off to make sure his people have what they need. If the twits sitting at Reliant, with trucks full of supplies that people need, don't understand, they deserve to be talked to in this manner. Lucky for them, it was only White yelling at them.