Pissing into the wind

I should have used this title for my 'smoke' blog ...

I’m eating some steaming ravioli (Chef Boyardee) for dinner with a little cilantro and a glass of cold milk ...

I just got tore up at the Y by two men, doctors actually, over forty, with a less than 2 inch vertical (between the two of ‘em) but deadly accurate hook shots ...

People amuse me, when I’m through getting frustrated. I hope that I amuse them, too.

I’ve decided I’m not sleeping tonight, because I’d rather decorate/clean our house and put up the tree I bought earlier at Lowes. Also, I think I have some sort of test to do for class and a reflection blog to write. I’d rather get it all done and go watch the Hornets tomorrow night get their first victory since Clinton was getting polished in the White House, then lay in bed alone and cold anyway.

Time flies. That’s my reflection. I’ve been so occupied, mentally and physically, for the last four months that each week seems like a day in retrospect. Since there is always more to do than I have the time for, and I’m always looking ahead to what’s next on the list (or writing, and re-writing … the list, to keep from actually attacking … the list) I haven’t done very little of this at all … reflecting. There simply is so much that needs to be done.

I already spend most days in my classroom until at least five or six at night with students getting extra help, making up work or simply providing a safe, encouraging place for them to work, when I only get paid until 3:30. We joke, we laugh, we talk … but, most importantly, we work. And every day, there is at least one student who stays that isn’t even in my class, but has work to do and needs a place to do it. Then I give them rides home, which usually takes at least another hour to get to those neighboring towns where some live. If I didn’t offer to give them a ride, they wouldn’t stay. Sometimes I go inside to talk to their families, which means a lot to me and to them. At least 2-3 days a week I try to come in early for those that can’t stay after school. That’s harder for me … I don’t move so quickly in the morning.

… and if I didn’t do all this, I would have anywhere from 5-10 kids in each class failing, who will now pass. Not because I passed them, but because they put in the time and hard work, after school, to pass. I’m sorry, but after being here for four months – that’s a goddamn accomplishment. In addition, this has cut down tremendously on many behavior problems in the classroom – since most of the kids that created issues during the day are the same ones who have to stay after school to make up work or get caught up. I haven’t gotten to all of them, and still have a few that haven’t quite come around, who continue to waste both their time and mine – but I really believe this is the major difference between the first nine weeks and the second. Aside from the normal ‘testing period’ any new teacher goes through, and me getting my shit together little by little (still not quite there yet). It’s more important for me to get across the importance of learning, to better one-self, and the reasons why one might desire to do this … before books can even be cracked. I couldn’t do all of this as a coach in the fall, but while coaching I was able to reach students in other ways.

Then, when I finally get home, around seven or eight on a good night, usually exhausted, I have to plan something for the next day … or grade … or call parents … never mind all the other task trolls that torment my nights – bills, dinner, maintaining relationships with family/friends, grad work, hygiene, etc. (don’t get me wrong, I still somehow find time to procrastinate) … No wonder most nights you can find bodies strewn around the house on floors, couches or across beds the wrong way, often in the midst of some work or ‘taking a break’ from it, only to wake up groggy at the sound of an alarm in the other room the next morning or the sun peaking it’s way through the blinds.

I’m not complaining, just explaining. I only wish that I could do more, for myself and for them. I wish I could coach – anything to spend more time outside of class with the kids. I wish I could invest myself in after-school programs several times a week – a film club, school newspaper, drama. I wish I could research scholarships and contests and grants – golden, untapped opportunities out there. I try, but it’s never enough. I also wish I could get my sorry ass into shape, exercise a little. Read more books for pleasure. Take a walk, look at the stars, try my hand at cooking, call or write an old friend …

Is this a reflection?

Kinda.

I’ve realized some of my strengths and some of my weaknesses and been challenged in many new ways. Something I’ve discovered as of late (and had been told prior, but only recently tried out myself) … my students love to act. I’ve found I can get almost every kid in my classes to read and follow along, or fight over who gets speaking parts, when I tell them we’re going to do a short one-act play today, or a longer one over several days. They laugh, they joke, they do the voices, but they’re all engaged and reading for a full fifty minutes.

Content is everything.

The pen pals are a hit, here and abroad.

My writing workshops are working very well with my English II classes (once a week they write a practice informative essay, which I grade and pick apart very closely for every mistake I can find, then later in the week I meet with each one of them one-on-one to discuss their writing, common patterns of mistakes, and how they can fix them).

Over fifty kids in my English III classes can now say they've had sushi (c/o Southern Nights' Wednesday special in Greenville), and plenty of wasabi ... and read Hemingway.

I've started work with our art teacher on a literary magazine (poems, short stories, and artwork from our students), as well as collaborating on children's books that my kids will write, hers will illustrate and then will be taken to our local elementary school.

Finally, institutional barriers need to be removed for any progress to be made. It kills me to see these kids being unnecessarily handicapped more than they already have been by birth. Right now - equal opportunity, in theory alone.

My ravioli is cold, and my milk is warm.

Come to our Christmas party on the 16th – lovers and haters alike … we’ll have mistletoe, and I’m sick of only puckering up to kiss ass.