The Red Tent

My maternal grandmother is dying.  She has a myriad of problems, and recently was given a month to live.  Right now my mom is staying the week with her up in Pocatello, so that she can help her put up all of her Christmas decorations.  My grandma loves Christmas, and I like it that my mom gets to help her set up for her last one. 

Last year I read a book called The Red Tent, written by Anita Diamant.  It is set in Old Testament Jacob's time, and is largely about the relationships of the women in his family.  The red tent was the women's tent, and therein did each girl learn about her role as a woman and the gifts of her mothers and sisters.  It's a good story, except for a few historical liberties the author took that I don't agree with.   Overall, it beautifully shows how women are bound together through family, experience, and understanding.

The women in my family are now in our own Red Tent.  With our matriarch leaving us, each is becoming very aware of how we are connected to her and therefore to each other.  Everyone that comes to visit Grandma somehow speaks to how strong she is.  With each telling all of her daughters nod, acknowledging that the visitor is correct and we know this because we too have pieces of her strength and pride that we carry.  Each of us has naturally picked up a role of caregiver, making sure Grandma is as comfortable as possible.  My aunt and cousins, especially, have been her constant companions physically and emotionally.  When we are all together it is like bees in a hive, buzzing around the queen because we love her.  I especially like to be near her, sitting next to her in the living room, or curled up with her in bed for a nap.  It is pleasurable to be so close to this woman from whose blood and spirit I've come.  

My grandma is dying now because she has chosen to.  She has been given options to prolong her life, but has determined she is content to be finished.  This has been a difficult concept for all of us to digest.  But despite our own wishes, we support her because we know we'd all expect the same liberty to choose our path.

Death is an uncomfortable thought, and I push the concept to the back of my mind until I have to deal with it directly.  Watching my grandmother face it with determination and sweetness makes me proud of her.  My mother, aunts, and cousins all feel that though we are losing a beloved, we are doing it in a way that helps us to understand ourselves.  And it is a definite blessing to be able to share these last days with her, hopefully showing such tenderness as is merited to a woman at the end of a long life.  We care for her instinctively not only because she is Grandma, but also because she is a model of each of us, taking our last steps in life.  One and the same.

man, i should update this one of these days.

There are better places to put your cell phone than...

the edge of the sink next to the toilet

the door pocket of your car, that throws everything out when slammed shut

underneath any sort of tire

the pocket of your dirty jeans headed for the wash

Dwight's jello

the dash bench in the front window (sizzle, sizzle)

your classroom desk, available to all students

a window sill, open for all to enter or exit

and

in the hip of your bathing suit.  especially when wearing said bathing suit while on "loading the waverunner" duty, which requires you to be in the lake.  hips included.

blast.

of course i am annoyed at the amount of money i cost myself for not thinking.   i am especially regretful of the notes i had tucked away in there.  like the ones i took recently while listening to an interesting 2 a.m. conversation at Huntington Beach.  irretrievable.  

blast.

p.s.  if my drowned phone had your number in it, please send it to me.

it was only 107 degrees today!  woot, woot.

Open Culture

i just found a great new site:

www.openculture.com

from this you can access many different FREE university lectures from some of the top schools around the country.  click on some of the samples below:

African American History: The Modern Freedom Struggle

Historical Jesus

Introduction to Non-violence

Man, God and Society in Western Literature

Death

Justice, A Journey in Moral Reasoning

Biology

Introduction to Human Nutrition

i am going to first go through The American Novel Since 1945

yum.

you can also download educational podcasts and learn Spanish.  

it's my new favorite site.

I Got Dumped

last Saturday i went kayaking with my roommate and friends down some river that is pretty calm.  it was my first time.  i loved it.  i love water.  i love boats.  i loved my rowing class in Philadelphia, so i figured this was just a rougher extension.  

mandy the roommate (my second roommate named Amanda, both of similar looks, come to think of it) put me in the lightest kayak.  i guess this means it naturally goes the fastest.  a mile or so down the river, i ended up significantly ahead of the rest.  just around the river bend, i noticed rapids and the river forking around a chunk of land.  i was unconcerned, as i'd already gone over a bit of roughness before when i was still with everyone, and it was all smooth sailin'.  since i'd noticed the others a bit worried about me making it over the first ones,  i was sort of excited to go at these alone and have to figure out how to balance and steer.  i was pocahontasly confident that such dexterity would come naturally. 

the elements of nature like to find ways to humble us when we consider them so lightly.

i did well over the first half of the stuff, adding to my pompousness.  then my kayak stopped heeding my direction, and began following a current that was headed for a big ol' bunch of trees hanging down over the river.  no biggie.  i made it past one branch.  then the next.  and i never had to deal with the third.  that's because somehow i was suddenly under the kayak instead of in it.  it was like someone had picked the kayak up like a cup of water and dumped me in the sink.  glass of heather on the rocks.  i thought at that moment that now would have been a good time for a life jacket, but i didn't dwell on that much. nor did i mourn more than an "argh" at my suddenly bare feet.  i was more concerned about keeping the kayak.  i grabbed it and snagged the oars.  realizing it wasn't going to flip back over (i'd forgotten to ask what to do if i got dumped) i just did my best to hop on top and ride it out.  

so, i lost my shoes by kept the boat.  fair trade.  i'd do it again.  that silly river, it was nothin'.  

I Didn't Mean Anything By That

a man answered a particular door i knocked on tonight, surrounded by little kids.  he said he was interested in the service, but could i come back in a month?  

then the following conversation really happened:

me: "no problem.  what's your name, sir?"

the man surrounded by kids: "(klfjeiojvklm)ike."  this was inaudible.

me: "hm?  Dike?"

no joke.  of all letters to chose to throw before ike, i pulled out a D.  so, like, Dyke.  

the man surrounded by kids:  cocks his head to the side--"Mike."

me:  half gasp, half shriek--"i can't believe i just asked if your name is Dyke."

both of us start laughing.  i am also grimacing.

me: "i'm really glad you have a sense of humor."

the man surrounded by kids: "i have to, look at all these kids."

me: "so can i still come back in a month?"

the man:  "yes."

a few hours pass by.  i am going back through the neighborhood, running to some houses that asked me to return that night.  

i see a man out on his lawn talking to some blonde girl.  i fail to make any connection to my earlier horror moment.

me: "hey!  how's it going?  do you have p----"

the man on the lawn with the blonde: "you were already here.  you're coming back in a month.  you called me Dyke."

blonde girl, laughing: "she called you what?  how did she know?"

me, escaping: "i'll see you in august."

Dyke: "can't wait."

It's Not Hot

these are the things i try not to let myself think while i am walking around in the 109 degree death heat:

"I am going to die."

"I can't breathe."

"My car is sitting in the sun and will be 130 degrees when I get to it, but who cares because I am going to die before then."

"My clothes are sopping wet."

"If I worked at McDonald's, I could be in air conditioning."

"Michael Jackson never had to do something like this."

thought like these, or my internal scheming about what i could go back and say to the huge scary man who yelled at me, only make me cranky.  so i try not to do it.  

but i am sure i will think of the perfect retort tomorrow.

It's like rain on your wedding day...a free ride when you've already paid.

ironic is this:

the day i moved into my apartment as a college freshman i met my across-the-way neighbors, two girls who were quite old.  one was 21 and the other, a returned missionary from Oklahoma, 23.  both single and completely normal.  neither realized the level of her life's despondency.

i thought then that if i got to 21 and was unmarried, i'd be embarrassed and die.  and, by the way SICK!  who goes to Oklahoma on a mission?  that girl should've stayed home.

three years later, as i opened my own mission call to Oklahoma City, my friend Jeff shrugged and voiced a similar sentiment: "you don't have to go, you know."  i knew that my attitude to the old girl across the hall had come back to bite me in the butt.  

to top off the irony of my 18-year-old know-it-all self, i am thirty and unmarried.  and remarkably unembarrassed.

fast forward a few years and a few singles wards:  Edmond, Philadelphia, Denver, Philadelphia again.  around late-April, early-May enter the Bug Boys into the ward dynamics.  they come in packs of 12, twenty minutes late to sacrament meeting souped up in their flashy ties, flip flops and bleached tips.   you know what i'm talking about.  they're halfway through their summer in your ward right now.  awesome.  i've always been, ahem, bugged by these people.

in the typical pride cycle of my life, i am now the Bug Girl.  i'm selling pest control for my cousin's company in Phoenix.  awesome.

this is why it's a good job for me:  i like walking all over the place, i get to wear a skirt, i talk to interesting people all day, i have a basically undeterrable demeanor, i am learning the names of all sorts of Arizona flowers, and i only have to commit to the job for two months.  perfect.  isn't it ironic?  

Yesterday I Drove to Phoenix

the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. which is why i chose to drive on highway 89 to get to Phoenix, where i am living for the summer. it's also an exceptionally pretty route. driving through my entire state in one day, from Cache to Kane County made me appreciate my roots.

i am guilty of only listening to favorites on my iPod, so i tried to get through as many songs as possible on the trip. i made it to track 289. the iPod seemed to favor Cat Power, Griffin House, Dave Matthews, and The Chipmunks. pretty good taste, with some room for improvement.

65 miles an hour doesn't mean much to me. this is because i don't have a working speedometer. this is my lot, as none of my past three vehicles has had one. so, i read my speed by gauging the environment around me. if i am being blown away by semi trucks, i'm going too slow. too fast when the car starts shaking.

i was quite surprised to get pulled over, since there was no shaking. the cop was very amused at my quick document-retrieval skills, and the flower elastic and catholic bracelet in my glove box. he wrote me up for 6 miles over the limit instead of the deserved 20 (not that i could verify the accuracy of this good deed). i think it's cause he liked my music.

ninety-two bucks of thanks, man.

because i'd only gotten a tad over 5 hours of sleep the night before, i was pretty tired. toward the end of the trip i had a solo car dance party to keep myself awake. my brother Myles continued to poke me the last few hours with phone calls and text messages, and Fred decided to drive up and meet me about an hour out of Phoenix to make sure i made it. in the perfect humor of the universe, right as i FINALLY saw the exit i needed, the Hallelujah Chorus took over the dance party.

Hallelujah! now i need to find a place to live.

Hip Hop

about six weeks ago, i got a student straight from M-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i.

well, not straight from Mississippi. he caught a few rides with some semi-trucks with people he semi-knew and came semi-straight here--just a slight detour through North Dakota.

sort of like a Southwest flight.

i can semi-understand him. but thanks to my Philly language training plus my many conversations with Dawgs fan Matt Murray, i figured Girek out pretty quick.

another student of mine, David, who is White Hispanic, often quips to me, "you don't like me cuz i'm Black." it is usually easily ignored.

except that he said it to me on Girek's second day.

David: "you don't like me cuz i'm Black."
Miss Bankhead: "you're not Black."
Girek: (to David) "who you callin' Black?"
David: (with chin buried in chest) "me. sometimes i say i'm Black."
Girek: (confused) "but you not Black."
Miss Bankhead is getting uncomfortable.
David: "but i want those bunnies."
Girek: "what? you think all black people got bunyons?"
David: "bunnies."
Girek: "cuz i don't got bunyons! my grandma--she got bunyons."
Miss Bankhead: "David, what the crap are you talking about?"
Girek: "don't go around saying all Black people got bunyons."
Miss Bankhead: "david are you talking about legs?"
Girek: "you don't get bunyons on your legs! you get 'em on your feet! it's that bone that sticks out."
David: "bunnies."
Miss Bankhead: (who is deducing from the students around that "bunnies" means calf muscles somehow) "no, Girek, calf muscles."
David: "yeah. bunnies. for jumpin'."
Girek: "oh yeah. white boys don't jump. I can jump."
David: "bunnies."

translation successful. problem solved.


*special thanks to Kaylee for the Mississippi spell check

business

these are a few of the things that have been going on lately: zach is getting really good at spitting in a straight line and hitting the garbage can. mani was in a car accident. cutting the left side of her face up pretty badly. she still has her sight, but quite a few deep scars. _____ lost a baby. ______had an abortion. _______fell of the wagon, which she has been on since she was 14, after being an alcoholic for two years before that. anna has a new boyfriend and is quite excited. _____ was hospitalized for depression. _______'s father was deported. raymond dropped out, but then came back, much to my delight!

keanu has been finishing his assignments lately, and now has a C+ in my classes; i am taking ben out of his world civ class, in which he has a 10%, and making him do the work in my class, since i can command him and he obeys. until he reads this. my blog is really ugly. the soccer team is playing Highland tomorrow. they whipped Cottonwood last week. receipts are due for any expenses we've spent on the classroom. we get reimbursed here--can you believe it?! whoop for Utah.

a Cottonwood Heights cop was in the parking lot today, causing quite the stir. Camille won a car from Ken Garff, it was most deserved. Manases and i got into an debate about the reality of zombies, he won due to his proof via Wikipedia of the toxoplasma gondii parasite. blast. ritchie rarely comes to school anymore, so i sent him a note on a hot-pink piece of paper. the next day as i was practically tripping down the stairs carrying a box of books, he was at the bottom waving it at me. awesome. _____ just found out he's going to daddy. he's 16.

meanwhile, we are learning about commonly confused words. behold:


Name____________________________________

Commonly Confused Vocabulary Words

affect/effect

affect—verb, to influence something else. The bad weather will affect her illness.

effect—noun, a result of something. The effect of the bad weather is that she got sick.

between/among

between—use it when you are talking about two things. I am choosing between a Toyota or a Ford.

among—use it when you are talking about three or more things. I am deciding from among all the cars in the lot.

either/neither

neither—use it to reject only two things. Neither of those shoes gives me blisters.

OR—use it to agree with a negative statement. She doesn’t want any soup and neither do I.

either—use it to mention only two things. I have a blister from either my flipflop or my sandal.

OR—use it to agree with a negative statement in a different way. She doesn’t want any soup. I don’t, either.

fewer/less

less—use when you are talking about one item. I would like less cheese.

fewer—use when you are talking about two or more items. I would like fewer onions and tomatoes.

good/well

good—use when you are describing an object. That burger is good!

well—use when you are describing an action. She swims well.

irregardless/regardless

irregardless—no such word! Don’t use it! It’s like saying “I could care less.” It doesn’t work.

regardless—not paying attention to a possible problem. He is not going to do his homework, regardless of his grade.

waste/waist

waste—lots of meanings. Stuff you throw away. Stuff you needlessly use up. Slang for kill. You got it. Don’t waste your talent.

waist—that body part that girls want to be small and boys don’t really have. When a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist and a….

NOW:

Write a sentence, using each word correctly.

The Flag

my first monday morning at my current school, a student giving the announcements began to lead the Pledge of Allegiance.  this was unexpected to me and as it began i panicked for a moment, looking around the room for students who cannot stand for the Pledge due to religious or other issues.  i needn't have worried.  since i started in February, and i'm teaching high school instead of middle school, students who are uncomfortable with the Pledge already know their rights.  the entire class stood.

today as i was walking into church, two 12-year-old boys were raising the flag.  a grandpa was walking ahead of me.  when he saw the boys and their process, he set down his briefcase and put his hand over his heart until it was complete.

perfect example of reverence.

The Beauty Pageant

wasn't really a beauty pageant. but i failed to inform my friend Trishelle of this when i invited her to go with me to see one of my students compete in the Mr. Utah pageant. so when we saw the contestants through an outside window, and they were wearing just about nothin', she was delicately surprised.

whoops. i was likewise surprised when i saw, through described window, my student Eedee wearing only a little black somethin'. i think i am not supposed to see students like that, so it was a bit embarrassing. i slid back quickly instead of waving.

Eedee is the third from the right. anyone think the guy on the far right is worth a chuckle?

here is Eedee, later, clothed.

everyone was surprised to see each other on all levels.

the note

the other day, lucy came to class dead.  she was representing a life taken by gang violence, so was going throughout the day wearing all black with her face painted white.  she could not speak to anyone, including teachers.  

she also came in with a new hair-do.  her waist-length black hair was bleached up to about 8-inches of the ends.  imagine a paint brush dipped in orange paint.  yeah, it's bad.  

i was happily ignoring her.  eventually she passed me a note.  

"does my bottom hair look funny?"

"it looks artistic.  what did you do to it?"

"i just mix some stuff and then i bleach it and then i foil it for 25 minutes."

oh, that's how you do it! 

dolls are OK

a steady rhythm is developing in my classroom.  i am very pleased with the relationships i'm developing with my students and how well they respond to lessons that i sometimes fear to teach.  i finally know the ticks of most of my kids and how to best respond to them, encourage them, and whose parents i once in a while need to ring up.

i am beginning a unit on Tolerance.  tolerance toward others in all forms. i am going to start out big: Holocaust, Mexican American unions, a bit of the Civil Rights Movement; and end small: respect toward homosexuals, peers, the girl with the weird earring, etc.  i include sexual orientation in the "small" category because i want to address some discriminatory situations i've noticed around the school.

so today we started talking about Gender Differences.  Zack is a big tough kid, who is covered in tattoos and is the one who told me the current prices of a pack of smokes and a 6-pack.  i heart him.  i also owe him $20 for a coupon book.  in the lesson i asked various questions:  is it okay for girls to tickle each others' backs?  is it okay for guys to?  is it okay for 2 girls to sleep in the same bed on vacation?  for 2 guys?  i was trying to get to the point that standards are quite different for men and women.   Zack responded immediately to my question of, "is it okay for little boys to play with baby dolls?"  with a "hell yes.  i played with dolls until i was ten."  

awesome.

same class, Samir was standing by the door right before the bell rang.  he is from Bosnia.  a girl came in to ask me something, and after she left he said, "i came to America with her."

i love the diversity in my classroom!

Whoa Tarzan

my new friend Trisha called me up this afternoon and asked me to go country dancing with her.  i love to dance, but not usually with people since i can find no one's rhythm but my own. it sounded fun though so i said yes.  the place had this sign posted, which i thought was quite funny.

i haven't been in Utah Mormondom for quite a while.  i'd forgotten what the mass social dance scene was like since i outgrew institute dances when i was like 19.   in the country dance realm, it's full of lots of early-twenty-somethings excited to show off their muscles.  

one kid was swinging me around with particular intensity.  i think he felt hot in his tight Hollister t-shirt.  and he was quite excited about the speed with which he was able to twirl himself around.  

after i guess he was satisfied that i wasn't going to let go, he asks me, 

"How strong are your stomach muscles?" 

"Uh...they work."

"Well, like, can you hold yourself up in a lift?  'cause, see, i wanna do this lift."

"what kind of lift?"

"how about this, how stiff can you hold your body?"

"WHAT are you trying to do?"

then he just lifted his two arms as if they were pushing up a barbell far above his head.

"No."

dude.  who are you?  do you seriously think i trust you enough to let you put me up in the air like that?  right.

that's like kissing on the first date.  you need to do a little more to get that than flexing your biceps.  in fact, you have to be really good.  and probably foreign.

big biceps are nast.

side note: speaking of dancing and foreigners, in Brasil i was told, "you're a really good dancer.  except you dance like an American girl."

I need to branch out.

i just painted a wall in my living room the exact color of this blog.  

Moving Out

i have an advisory class of seniors.  i see them every thursday for half an hour, and can use the time for whatever i want.  i've decided to teach a series of lessons about moving out of the house for the first time.  

here is a list of topics i brainstormed.  does anyone have any other ideas for things they wish someone would have talked to them about before they took off on their own?

• finding an apartment: planning and seeking
  
• unpacking the apartment contract
• legal issues around eviction, landlord/tenant responsibilities, deposits
• stuff you need for your new apartment
• documents you need to have and how to get them: birth certificate, social security card, passport, insurance info, tax info, etc; be aware of what's in your wallet (in case of loss)
• travel/studying abroad/learning languages
• budgeting
• credit: credit cards, credit history, student loan maintenance
• paying for school
• paying for life in general
• finding cheap groceries and planning healthy meals; easy recipes
• getting and maintaining reliable transportation
• manage time, stress, etc.; depression, eating disorders, other emotional health issues?
• roommate issues
• volunteer work
• insurance: car, renters, health
• laundry

what else did we learn via hard knocks about being adults?

ps-why is it still snowing?

The Thing about Living in Utah

is this:  i have family around.  

i've been the one that lived far away for the past 12 years of my life.  despite this, i just realized i've been on my own for a long time. 

until recently, i didn't know i didn't know this.   

Sunday night i cooked meatless chili for my vegetarian cousins.  it was pretty gross, but that's okay because vegetarians are used to eating gross things.  scott and annalyn gave me advice on paint, getting furniture upholstered, and talked with me about my classroom.  today, scott gave me two versions of the audio book of the next novel i'm teaching at school.  i needed it and was going to have to buy it for $25.

a couple of weeks ago, i finally went and got new license plates for my car.  of course i didn't put them on right away.  when my dad noticed, he took my keys and went out in the ice and put them on.  

despite the fact that i am trying hard to be especially frugal, i couldn't stand to buy my needed pots and pans at the DI.  it was just too gross and rusty a day for me.  i told my parents the story.  a week later, i had a huge box of pans.  

i moved into my sort-of grandma's apartment.  she told me i didn't have to pay rent until i got my first paycheck from the district.  

when i moved into said apartment, my mom and best friends spent a Saturday helping me clean it.  

i hadn't know how nice it is to be helped.  living away family, i've either forged things out on my own (experience i value) or asked for help when needed from friends.  i hate asking, though,  so it was always uncomfortable.  but, here, with my fam, it's normal.  and it's incredibly relieving.  

i also love being so close.  usually my family visits are a big deal because they involve a plane ride.  now, i can run out to my parent's house for dinner on a Tuesday, go see my grandma for a weekend, and go running with my cousin.  i know these things seem so simple to most people.  but the fact that i have missed such a life during my adulthood makes me quite appreciative of it now.  it is very fulfilling to be an active dynamic in the lives of the people i love. 

my dad recently told me that i should settle down.  "a rolling stone gathers no moss," he reminded me.  coincidentally, an old boyfriend used this exact phrase the other night at dinner. except from the other view, "you're a rolling stone.  you can't stay in one place.  it's not who you are."  

two men that know me best, each understands a different side of me.  i am tempted to stay because i am happy here.  but i am tempted to go because i always curious and restless.  

who knows.

Chats

tonight was night 1 of parent teacher conferences.  i had a table amongst all the A-B named teachers and was the only one that ate her own welcoming candy.  no one really knows me yet so i happily sat there alone munching on Swedish Fish and reading Consumer Report.  9 people did stop by my table.  two of those were Zack and Ben, who were on their way back from the mall. these boys were mentioned before.

Zack began the conversation with, "Miss, you voted for Obama, huh?" 

"Yes."  

"I knew it by the way you say stuff.  You know he smokes, right?"

"Yeah.  Lots of people smoke."

Long pause.

"Well, just so you know, I was for McCain all the way.  He woulda had my vote if I coulda."

interesting.  i've never said a word about my political preferences, yet i guess they're pretty transparent.  at least to those who would recognize them.  a concept brought to my attention in grad school is that teachers are always in danger of pushing an agenda.  even indirectly.   it comes out through pedagogy and book choice and descriptions.  and, as in my case, "the way i say stuff."  somehow, this particular manner reveals my Choice.  being in a position of influence over children, this passes an agenda.  possibly this is unavoidable.

curious, also, that Zack wanted to clear up his stance on the issue.  i'm impressed.

 

i decided then that since we'd opened up about the president, i could broach the acne problem. i know it's a touchy subject, but is still one that needs to be done if the opportunity permits.  i told them about my sure cure.  it's this:  Aqua Glycolic toner and Rosac cream.  the toner doesn't require a prescription, but it is purchased in the pharmacy.  it's blue.  maybe it's green, i can't really tell those colors apart.  Rosac is only prescribed.  once one has those things, they should use the toner morning and night in place of any other cleanser, and rinse it off.  nothing else.  then, the cream.  a new face is on the way.

again, an agenda.

Fitting In

today was a small victory in my two week teaching life at this new school.

my students played a game with out anyone getting in trouble.  this would not have happened in Philly.

sophomores Zach and Ben teased me after class about my big fish/small fish analogy.  then i later heard them discussing it in the hallway.  these are two boys who, on my first day as their teacher, gave me the "Who The Hell Are You" look and put in their earphones as soon as i started talking.   they take them out now when i raise my eyebrow.  and they participate.

also on my first day with the sophomores, Cecelia got mad that i wouldn't let her talk to Tangi during the assignment.  she sat in the back of the room repeating over and over:  "i hate her." today Cecelia asked for my help.

the second day of teaching said sophomore class, i felt sick before school and i had to stop writing on the board in class because my hands were shaking.  i laughed inside at that today as i distinctly noticed the return of my confident and strict tone and saw positive responses in the students.  phew.

i handed out an essay assignment and no one grumbled.  it even has to be typed.    

Matthew, who three days ago whined about not watching any movies, exhaled in excitement when i told him the next book we're reading. you know that, "hoooooooa!"

Bryan was new to our school last week.  his English transfer grade was an F.  when he turned in a half-completed assignment, i gave it back with a "No way, man.  You finish that thing or it's unacceptable."  he has done extra on every assignment since and still waves at me in the hallway.

these may seem like small things, and they are.  but any teacher out there will understand each one's significance.

Janitorial Assistance

the toothless janitor in my building comes in every afternoon around 2:35 to empty the trash and remind me to recycle.

today, he gave me some ideas of jokes i could use on my students.

1.

there was a woman taking a bath in milk.  the man came in and asked if it was pasteurized.  she said, "nope, it is just up to my waist."

2. (placing two pennies in my palm)

"do ya see two snakes there?"

"no."

"ya sure?"

"sure."

"look again.  there're two copper heads."

3.  (this time taking the pennies back)

"there are two uses for these: 

a) a penny for your thoughts

b) talk is cheap

thanks, sir.  where did you say is the recycling bin?

"I'd buy a $1,000 worth of spicy chicken."

my Sophomore English class is reading Steinbeck's The Pearl.  i didn't like the book back when i read it in 8th grade, so i was annoyed when i found out that the class was already a chapter in when i joined the staff.  however, my mind has been opened.  i now really like the story and love teaching it.  my students seem to feel likewise.

today we did an assignment (to connect the story to their lives) about purchasing power and values.  Kino, the main character, comes upon a potential fortune with his discovery of a valuable pearl.  he tells his neighbors and family that with the money he will pay for him and his wife to be married in a church, he will educate his son, buy new clothes for the family, and then get a new harpoon and rifle for himself.  his desires here show that he values family, independence, societal recognition, the release from ignorance, among other things. 

my students listed a few things they would do with $200,00, and what their choices reveal about what they value most.

if I had a sudden $200,000 i'd get rid of student loans and buy a plot of land.  where would I buy the land?  Denver, probably.  then i'd make plans to build small little houses on it that everyone i love could live in.  these houses would be sort of far apart, so that no one would kill each other.  we'd have a garden in the middle.  lots of flowers.  and, why not?  how 'bout some Easter egg chickens. 

this shows i value being debt-free, living in a place i love, being able to help fam and friends, comfort, beauty, and cute eggs.  and, the fact that i did an assignment about money shows that i value people thinking about how they use theirs.

Babies

I just overheard in my last class that one of my 15 year-old students is pregnant. She told a group of girls that she was sitting with, and they all looked at her in sympathy. One said, "Well, your baby will be pretty!..." and another, "Man I am not going there until I am 26!" This comment made me sad for the little doe-eyed girl sitting there with an expressionless face. She suddenly seems a lot tinier to me than she did before.

She has not yet told her parents. She is afraid to.

I tried to find a way conveniently pull her away from the group to chat, but to no avail. After class a herd of students needed help.

I am dying to talk to her, though I am afraid I don't know how. Unsolicited help doesn't always go over well with teens, and I don't have a relationship with her yet that would merit my barge. I don't have her class again until Thursday, and what if she needs someone now? Almost everything I think of to do seems a bit too overwhelming. Maybe I can sneak her out of another class tomorrow--but then say what? I could always write her a note and vicariously talk to her, but that almost seems insincere.

I wish I had snagged her today! No matter how uncertain I am about talking to her, I know that doing nothing because I don't know what to do would be the bigger mistake. It's my job, right? Is it presumptuous of me to assume she even needs or wants anything?

Even if so, I can't help it.  I'll find a way to talk to her tomorrow.

She is a sweet little girl that needs help.  

I hope I'm not belittling her.

Cute Cute Cute

this is my cousin Selena's new baby, Lily. pretty girl!

i love this, the dog licking her toes.

Savannah

this is my two-year old kindred spirit. we both love babies and flowers, and

are quite vocal about getting what we want.

Nail Tech

my little sister is apprenticing to be a nail technician. the can't-live-without manicure girl. let me tell you, she is talented. you should see my toes.

nails might run in the family, as one of my favorite chores is cutting fingernails. not sure why, it just is.

Jonah and Ryanne recently let me tackle their's.

Thanks but...

i've started my new job at a high school in Salt Lake. i'm teaching Sophomore English and Skills for Success, a class to support students who are struggling in school.
i'm really excited about this position, because i've been wanting to try out high school (over middle school) to see how it's different.

this is how it's different:

friday the students were divided up into 4 groups, 2 making a list on a poster about the reasons why people use certain drugs, and the other 2 describing the consequences of such use. Tyler was the scribe for his group, listing why some people choose to smoke marijuana. when i called for all lists to be posted on the board, his was the last to go up. his last bullet for why people smoke marijuana was "F%$* that Sh@#&."

this was of course written bigger than any thing else on the paper, so it was easily detected. i took it off the board and put it back on his desk. "I like that you're so against marijuana use. Please make this classroom appropriate." without a grumble he drew some pictures over it and it was ready to go up. looked pretty good, actually.

he also had on the reasons poster: "Because you know you're going to get some from your girl." to which a teacher can only reply: "Oh yeah, because a guy is so HOT when he is high!"

so, here we go.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Valentine

Not a red rose or a satin heart.

I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love.

Here.
It will blind you with tears
like a lover.
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief.

I am trying to be truthful.

Not a cute card or kissogram.

I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are.

Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding ring,
if you like.
Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.

--Carol Ann Duffy

i found this poem while teaching poetry last year. it is one of my favorites.

check out Mary Ann's Valentine surprise. it sort of makes me want a husband.

Ronaldinho

i saw this jersey hung up in a random hotdog store in LA a few weekends ago. these are usually on the backs of Brasilians.

different world

there are some things that never cross a single girl's mind.

a potty chart is one of those things i've never thought about exisiting. this is the chart of cute little Ellie, my friend Angie's little girl.


i think the first catergory is especially amusing. when i told her this, my friend responded that i won't think it is so funny when i actually have to remember to teach such an imperative step.

i learned with my seventh graders, and myself, that stickers can be amazingly motivating.

APO is better

I sent out some Christmas cards from Brazil over a month ago. They ended up being a bigger hassle than Christmas cards are worth. For instance, the day before Rachel and I left Brasilia we walked a couple miles to the post office in the rain to mail them, only to find out the post office was closed. Then I carried them around with me in my backpack on the trip for a while, and finally mailed them in Curitiba, mostly due to Rachel's brainstorming for something to do during our first few days there when we wanted to die.

Finally today on January 27, I've seen one arrive. I could have mailed them APO and had them arrive within two weeks, but I wanted them to have Brasilian postage and stampings. Now that I see one, it doesn't look that exciting at all. So the extra huge expense and time wasn't worth the cuteness.

Go APO.

If you didn't receive a card from me and you know that usually you would, don't be sad. Maybe I didn't send you one because of the above-explained situation, or maybe I did and yours just didn't make it. I'll tell you Merry Christmas next time I see you.

soon

i shouldn´t be as excited as i am to get back, being that i´m returning to no home, no job, no car...
but i am!

Fala Portugues?

we picked up Chad the other day. so far, he is the only person who has been impressed by my Portuguese. and that was only for about five minutes.

you know the song that you really love the rhythm to, but can´t quite make out the lyrics, and since you love that particular song so much you just sort of make up words so that you can sing it?

this is a good way to get made fun of.

such is my Portuguese-speaking experience. i love this language. it is beautiful. i love the smooth purr of it being spoken so quickly. i love that words pop out of mouths at their beginnings, but are softened at the end by gentle ch´s or gg´s or rrrr´s. it´s good on the ears.

hearing it contstantly all around me is no longer a novelty, but i still enjoy listening to it. however, since i can´t speak it and need to, i am usually just making things up. i´ve learned to turn my 30 use-able vocab words into sentences with some Heather-gibberish added in to compensate for everything else. i´m surprised by how often this seems to get things done. or at least at how often the Brasilians just humor me.

it has been a good smacking experience for me to be so daft with a language, especially being one who love the intricacies of English so much.

Argentines are Meat Snobs

four huge Argentines towering over one cute little Brasilian butcher arguing over standards and cuts of meat is a sight to behold. i chuckled to see my new friends who i´d thus far only known to be pretty laid back getting worked up.

they were right, though. they did know what they were talking about, and their efforts gave us a Christmas Eve feast. it was a bit Bob Cratchitt, with a bunch of random travelers all meeting in our little hostel to have Christmas dinner.

Everyone from Argentina, Brasil, Venezuela, and of course the Americans.

Valentin, Federico, Rach, me, Javier. i guess Argentines don´t cook with clothes on.

Rach and Lucas

The Meat

before dinner, we asked to give a Christmas prayer. everyone was cool with that, and so Rachel prayed and Valentin translated. one of the boys tried to tape it, because he said his mother would never believe that he prayed over dinner.

Lucas said, "You are eating our food, and we are praying your praise. It is the perfect mix of cultures."

the Merry Christmas, Feliz Natal, Feliz Navidad toast. the boys bought Rach and i our own alcohol free treats.

Patience

the Portuguese word for "to wait" is the same as "to hope".

Esperar.

i kept this in mind today as i was waiting in the intense heat to cross two insane streets to get drinking water from the store.