Bittersweet
-
Eyal and I always knew that it would be difficult building a family from
two different countries. It is just now, however, that we have to really
put that ...
14 years ago
Pseudo-ethnography
I was just having a chuckle at Stuff White People Like. If you haven't seen that blog yet, you can start here with a list of topics. The comments are worth a perusal, too. Enjoy!
Review in Pictures
My friend J took my mom and me to the snow for some snowshoeing in February. It was beautiful!
It's too bad there's no picture of my feet since I was wearing "old school" snowshoes--the kind that look a little like tennis rackets.
We recently had a visitor from Chicago staying with us. She was amused when I told her that until I moved to NY State, I had thought of snow as a place one visited (as in, "We went up to the snow last weekend"), not so much as something that happens (since we never "went to the snow" if the weather wasn't expected to be great). I expected snow to be sparkling white, the skies to be perfectly blue and there to be no wind. I didn't know about the dirty gray snow that's a couple weeks old, biting wind blowing freezing rain, and low gray clouds that seem to last for months. The first year we lived in Ithaca the first snow fell in early November and the last fell during the second weekend in May! While I was enchanted the first time I saw it actually falling, I soon decided that I prefer snow as a destination rather than as an obstacle to getting to the grocery store.
In early March, for my brother's birthday, he & C and I went for a hike in the park where they'll be getting married in August.
Unabashed Political Cheerleading
Please go to this website (NPR) where you can listen to Barack Obama's speech on race and read the transcript at the same time if you want to. Give yourself time to really listen/read; it isn't sound bites--it is thoughtful and far-ranging and addresses race in the most honest, open and un-spun way I've ever heard, from a politician or not.
I have never before felt even a little inspired to campaign for a candidate. Well, I was pretty impressed by Ralph Nader the first time I heard him, mainly because he was clearly so smart. Barack Obama is smart and thoughtful. Wise. I really hope people take the time to listen to this speech, and talk about it, and reflect, and act. I think that with this speech, Obama is already helping this nation to face ourselves, begin to heal, and move forward together.
If he isn't elected president, maybe he can make a movie, and go on the lecture circuit like Al Gore!
I have never before felt even a little inspired to campaign for a candidate. Well, I was pretty impressed by Ralph Nader the first time I heard him, mainly because he was clearly so smart. Barack Obama is smart and thoughtful. Wise. I really hope people take the time to listen to this speech, and talk about it, and reflect, and act. I think that with this speech, Obama is already helping this nation to face ourselves, begin to heal, and move forward together.
If he isn't elected president, maybe he can make a movie, and go on the lecture circuit like Al Gore!
Of Language and Learning
I'm currently reading for the first time Of Human Bondage, by W. Somerset Maugham. Much to my embarrassment, I found myself surprised at how great it is, how much I'm enjoying it. Why am I constantly surprised to find that the classics are engaging, speak to universals of the human condition, and have modern relevance?! Duh! That's why they're considered classics, but I keep forgetting that. I pick up a book thinking, "This is probably pretty good--it's certainly famous; I should read it," and then am completely delighted. Most recently that happened with Don Quijote, which did take me a long time to read, but I absolutely loved it.
So, one of the sub-themes in OHB is that of learning--both formal education and informal. Since I'm currently taking a class on language (what does it mean to know a language? What does it mean to know or learn or acquire another language as an adult? What are the implications for language teaching?), I've particularly noticed comments about language learning/teaching. So below are a smattering of quotes. The book was published in 1915 and the bits here take place around the beginning of the twentieth century in England.
The orphan Philip begins his education with his guardians:
"He was taught Latin and mathematics by his uncle who knew neither, and French and the piano by his aunt. Of French she was ignorant, but she knew the piano well enough to accompany the old-fashioned songs she had sung for thirty years."
Later, he is sent to a school:
"The masters had no patience with modern ideas of education.... Neither German nor chemistry was taught, and French only by the [regular teachers]; they could keep order better than a foreigner, and, since they knew the grammar as well as any Frenchman, it seemed unimportant that none of them could have got a cup of coffee in the restaurant at Boulogne unless the waiter had known a little English."
As a very young man, Philip takes himself to Germany to learn German, among other things. He boards with the family of a teacher:
"The Frau Professor insisted that nothing but German should be spoken [at the table], so that Philip, even if his bashfulness had permitted him to be talkative, was forced to hold his tongue."
What have your language learning experiences been?
So, one of the sub-themes in OHB is that of learning--both formal education and informal. Since I'm currently taking a class on language (what does it mean to know a language? What does it mean to know or learn or acquire another language as an adult? What are the implications for language teaching?), I've particularly noticed comments about language learning/teaching. So below are a smattering of quotes. The book was published in 1915 and the bits here take place around the beginning of the twentieth century in England.
The orphan Philip begins his education with his guardians:
"He was taught Latin and mathematics by his uncle who knew neither, and French and the piano by his aunt. Of French she was ignorant, but she knew the piano well enough to accompany the old-fashioned songs she had sung for thirty years."
Later, he is sent to a school:
"The masters had no patience with modern ideas of education.... Neither German nor chemistry was taught, and French only by the [regular teachers]; they could keep order better than a foreigner, and, since they knew the grammar as well as any Frenchman, it seemed unimportant that none of them could have got a cup of coffee in the restaurant at Boulogne unless the waiter had known a little English."
As a very young man, Philip takes himself to Germany to learn German, among other things. He boards with the family of a teacher:
"The Frau Professor insisted that nothing but German should be spoken [at the table], so that Philip, even if his bashfulness had permitted him to be talkative, was forced to hold his tongue."
What have your language learning experiences been?
Moving right along
Thanks, everyone, for all the nice words of support! I went up to campus today and met with the professor of the class I'm auditing this semester. He was very encouraging and agreed that I seem like a great candidate for graduate school. He also offered to write me a letter when I reapply next year, and suggested someone in the ed department that I might want to talk to. His confidence in me made me feel especially good because he's a professor and not a flaky one, he's someone who has high standards and is really engaged in both teaching and research.
I wish I had a job lined up for next year, but I am feeling more hopeful about reapplying. My professor also suggested I apply at Stanford because they have a really good program. I like how their program looks, but I just don't know about the commute. Maybe I will apply, though, just so I'm not putting all my eggs in one basket again.
The wisteria on the back porch is just about blooming again. I picked some peas from the plants I put in my containers oh so long ago. They've struggled against their shady conditions, produced some pretty purple flowers and now some peas. Not the sweetest peas I've ever tasted, but not bad.
I'm starting a new term with my English learners tomorrow and they're pretty much always fun, even if the class is unfortunately scheduled (1 class/week for 4 hours--not ideal for language instruction). We're going to look at multiple intelligences, learning styles, memory, and other mind/brain topics, culminating in a visit to the Exploratorium mind exhibit in April.
If anybody has actually taught students about multiple intelligences before (as opposed to just using your knowledge of the diff types to plan lessons), I'd be curious to hear about it.
I've got to say that I'm appreciating daylights savings and the light evenings. Makes a much bigger difference to me than having light in the morning!
I wish I had a job lined up for next year, but I am feeling more hopeful about reapplying. My professor also suggested I apply at Stanford because they have a really good program. I like how their program looks, but I just don't know about the commute. Maybe I will apply, though, just so I'm not putting all my eggs in one basket again.
The wisteria on the back porch is just about blooming again. I picked some peas from the plants I put in my containers oh so long ago. They've struggled against their shady conditions, produced some pretty purple flowers and now some peas. Not the sweetest peas I've ever tasted, but not bad.
I'm starting a new term with my English learners tomorrow and they're pretty much always fun, even if the class is unfortunately scheduled (1 class/week for 4 hours--not ideal for language instruction). We're going to look at multiple intelligences, learning styles, memory, and other mind/brain topics, culminating in a visit to the Exploratorium mind exhibit in April.
If anybody has actually taught students about multiple intelligences before (as opposed to just using your knowledge of the diff types to plan lessons), I'd be curious to hear about it.
I've got to say that I'm appreciating daylights savings and the light evenings. Makes a much bigger difference to me than having light in the morning!
Expected Rejection, Unexpected Dejection
I didn't get into graduate school. I already suspected that I wasn't accepted and thought that I was fine with it, so I was surprised to find myself feeling quite bad about it. Before receiving the letter, I had already decided that I need to figure out what I'm doing next year in case I don't get into grad school so I was prepared to have a different plan, but I think what I wasn't prepared for was the realization that "not getting into grad school" means being rejected.
It's funny what a powerful effect rejection has on some of us. In a long-ago conversation about risk-taking, I realized that we do not all evaluate risks the same. Certain types of risks I am not willing to take—while other choices I make do not seem at all risky to me but would to others. The risk of being rejected is one I avoid as much as possible, and as a result I am slow to truly make friends and always anguish over job applications. I knew from the beginning that applying to grad school involved the risk of rejection, but I think I had forgotten what it feels like.
Applying to grad school was a horrendous process for me. I wrote and re-wrote my application essays many times, and I'm not talking about merely revising them—I scrapped essays on their third or fourth draft to begin completely again from scratch more than once. I hated writing those essays because I hated knowing that I was going to be judged by them. It is different even from writing something which you hope to have published because in that case it is the writing rather than the writer that is really being rejected. Of course, it is difficult not to take that kind of rejection to heart as well, since the writing does have an intimate connection to the writer (one of the reasons I rarely submit anything for consideration for publication), but in this case it truly is me that has been rejected!
It's a terrible little letter that begins with the dreaded "I regret to inform you..." and ends with "I am sorry that we do not have a place for you and hope that you will be able to make other arrangements to achieve your academic goals."
So now, rather than feeling a weight off my shoulders (well, no more wondering, at least I know for sure), I feel more hesitant about the alternative-to-grad-school plans I was beginning to make, feel once again the burden of the question "What am I doing with my life?" and am thrown right back into existential despair.
And, as if in direct defiance of my mood, completely ignoring the lump in my throat and the tear in my eye, it is lovely lovely lovely lovely springtime outside. The oxalis, the bane of bay area gardeners, is cheekily busting out all over, its bunches of yellow flowers pushing through chainlink fences, covering vacant lots and making great in-roads in many lawns. The fruit trees are scattering their flower petals all over the ground like confetti, and the tiny little birds with the black hoods have returned to the trees outside our windows.
More or less as planned?
The new year is a natural time to think about aging and who we are as compared to who we imagined we would be. A friend of mine had a droll observation about this process, writing in a recent email, "as I get older, I realize I'm much more shallow than I originally planned to be."
I think that makes a nice sentence frame:
As I get older, I realize I'm much more (or less) ___ than I planned to be (when I was ____ years old).
I invite you to fill in the blanks anonymously in the comments.
I think that makes a nice sentence frame:
As I get older, I realize I'm much more (or less) ___ than I planned to be (when I was ____ years old).
I invite you to fill in the blanks anonymously in the comments.
Love and Change
A friend just wrote to me of a "happy yet challenging" relationship she's in. I asked about the challenges and her response was really evocative, so I would like to include a bit of it here:
Maybe the secret to staying in love is in the box too. You can't continually turn someone's box upside down, because that's just annoying, but you can give it a little jostle sometimes or trade items from your boxes--I'll give you this view for that one of yours--and after a while you have so many shared experiences, you can each randomly reach into each other's boxes and pull out familiar but forgotten goodies.
To put it another way, we stay in love because love and change encourage each other.
But right from the start when we first met and talked,Isn't this lovely? I think I am taken by it because it is such a vivid image of the confusion and excitement of being alive and being in love, the realization that we are not static or solid, but beings of light and motion--a realization that brings both pain and relief. Hurray for love! Hurray for change!
he turned my world upside down, and I am still busy
trying to figure out what "my world" actually is!
- after he turned it upside down... It's like I had my
little world, my views and experiences and everything,
in a little box, nice and orderly, I knew where I could
find my stuff. And he took it, literally turned it
upside down, and now I am figuring out what of the
old stuff I want to keep, what I'd better get rid of,
and what needs modifying.
Maybe the secret to staying in love is in the box too. You can't continually turn someone's box upside down, because that's just annoying, but you can give it a little jostle sometimes or trade items from your boxes--I'll give you this view for that one of yours--and after a while you have so many shared experiences, you can each randomly reach into each other's boxes and pull out familiar but forgotten goodies.
To put it another way, we stay in love because love and change encourage each other.
Happy 2008!
Today, I made a schedule for my weekdays. Since so much of what I am trying to have time for doesn't have a specific time associated with it, I very often get much less done than I want or could. Setting up schedules has helped me in the past, so I decided to do it again (schedules also have the potential of pissing me off and making me rebel, or of shaming me and making me give up, so it's a fine line I gotta walk here).
My new schedule allocates time for my 3 paid jobs, plus taking a class at Cal next semester, and five other activities that I want time for. It also leaves me with most of my weekends unscheduled, which I am hoping will prevent any insurrection perpetrated by (and upon) myself.
Of course, it doesn't really start until next week, when school reopens, but I'll start implementing parts of it tomorrow to give it the oomph of new year's day!
Unrelated side comment: Our downstairs neighbors returned from their holidays this morning with a real piano, a piano which is perfectly audible through the floor. Luckily, I do like piano music. Here's to hoping they learn a variety of pieces!
Although many of my friends are jaded about the marking of the new year, I like it. I like the idea of recognizing and welcoming change. I like the idea of fresh starts and new beginnings, and also the reflection on the past year. Making resolutions is a way of embracing hope and intentionality. It's a stand against fatalism, which has its place and usefulness the rest of the year, but which should be made to sit quietly in the corner sometimes while optimism and can-doism take the floor for an ecstatic dance.
May your new year be full of happy surprises, opportunities to learn and grow, and many moments of pure joy.
My new schedule allocates time for my 3 paid jobs, plus taking a class at Cal next semester, and five other activities that I want time for. It also leaves me with most of my weekends unscheduled, which I am hoping will prevent any insurrection perpetrated by (and upon) myself.
Of course, it doesn't really start until next week, when school reopens, but I'll start implementing parts of it tomorrow to give it the oomph of new year's day!
Unrelated side comment: Our downstairs neighbors returned from their holidays this morning with a real piano, a piano which is perfectly audible through the floor. Luckily, I do like piano music. Here's to hoping they learn a variety of pieces!
Although many of my friends are jaded about the marking of the new year, I like it. I like the idea of recognizing and welcoming change. I like the idea of fresh starts and new beginnings, and also the reflection on the past year. Making resolutions is a way of embracing hope and intentionality. It's a stand against fatalism, which has its place and usefulness the rest of the year, but which should be made to sit quietly in the corner sometimes while optimism and can-doism take the floor for an ecstatic dance.
May your new year be full of happy surprises, opportunities to learn and grow, and many moments of pure joy.
Game + Vocab + Helping People
If you pride yourself on your large vocabulary, have a little free time, and like a challenge, go check out Free Rice. It's a multiple choice vocab test with words at every level of English knowledge. You find out immediately what the correct answer is and then get a new question. If you get three questions in a row correct, then you move up to the next level. You can also move down by getting too many wrong (I'm not sure if just one wrong moves you down; I was too busy answering questions to figure it out).
If you're not already sold, how's this? For every word you get correct, a donation of rice is made to feed the hungry through the UN. How can this be, you ask? Well, there are ads on the site. The ad revenue goes to the UN food program. The site is actually operated without profit. It is a sister site to poverty.com, for eradication of world poverty. I think it is a clever idea well instantiated. Go there.
(Thanks, Langguj Gel, for the referral!)
If you're not already sold, how's this? For every word you get correct, a donation of rice is made to feed the hungry through the UN. How can this be, you ask? Well, there are ads on the site. The ad revenue goes to the UN food program. The site is actually operated without profit. It is a sister site to poverty.com, for eradication of world poverty. I think it is a clever idea well instantiated. Go there.
(Thanks, Langguj Gel, for the referral!)
Why ask if you know the answer?
"Perhaps real wisdom lies in not seeking answers at all. Any answer we find will not be true for long. An answer is a place where we can fall asleep as life moves past us to its next question. After all these years I have begun to wonder if the secret of living well is not in having all the answers but in pursuing unanswerable questions in good company." --Rachel Remen [my bolding]
Does she really mean that we shouldn't pursue answers at all, or simply that we should pursue answers without any expectation of finding them? That we should not be afraid of the unanswerable questions?
I can't give up looking for answers entirely, but I think trying to find The Answer to any question is misguided. Without some answers, even lowercase, we wallow in inaction and indecision, places that are all too familiar, but rarely satisfying. I believe in intentional change, both of ourselves and our environment (which we change unintentionally merely by existing). Intentional change must be directed by something like answers, however temporary they may be.
I agree wholeheartedly with Remen that life's journey should be taken in good company!
Does she really mean that we shouldn't pursue answers at all, or simply that we should pursue answers without any expectation of finding them? That we should not be afraid of the unanswerable questions?
I can't give up looking for answers entirely, but I think trying to find The Answer to any question is misguided. Without some answers, even lowercase, we wallow in inaction and indecision, places that are all too familiar, but rarely satisfying. I believe in intentional change, both of ourselves and our environment (which we change unintentionally merely by existing). Intentional change must be directed by something like answers, however temporary they may be.
I agree wholeheartedly with Remen that life's journey should be taken in good company!
Olden Goldies
“Make new friends, but keep the old; one is silver and the other gold.” I remember questioning this song when I was a child, not liking the generalization that old friends would be more valuable than new ones (the whole thing further confused by the fact that I liked silver, as a metal, better than gold, but knew their symbolic place in relation to each other). I’ve been re-exploring this issue lately, though, with a new appreciation of the old song.
Back in the saddle
That last post wasn't intended as a farewell to the blog, but somehow it became one. Perhaps with this new post at the top, I'll get back in the habit. Since I wrote last...
I spent the month of September studying for the GRE, which I took toward the end of the month. Fortunately I scored well enough that I didn't feel I needed to take it again.
I was asked to teach one class (two days/wk) at the school I was at last year and I accepted, even though the class had already begun by the time I took it over and it turned out to be much more of a regular school thing than the optional after-school thing I initially thought it was.
I got another part-time job working at a nonprofit that sets up a summer internship and study program for disadvantaged youth. It's a great organization, and I do my work for them from home. A new kind of thing for me, but using skills I've developed from other jobs.
I met with Justin's colleagues and have begun (in principle) a collaboration wherein I help them develop teaching materials for the endangered language they are documenting.
The term ended at school and I agreed to teach another Tues/Thur class. This one I designed and I'm excited about seeing how it goes. We've had two meetings so far.
I've also agreed to start another class, once/week, for English learners. That hasn't begun yet.
I've turned down a chance to work on the school's charter renewal and re-accreditation submission, although I will probably end up being involved in some way.
I've almost finished reading Don Quijote (both parts), which is a great and funny book and should be much more widely read, but maybe published as a serial so its 1000+ pages are not so intimidating.
What else? Who knows! There are always changes afoot here.
I spent the month of September studying for the GRE, which I took toward the end of the month. Fortunately I scored well enough that I didn't feel I needed to take it again.
I was asked to teach one class (two days/wk) at the school I was at last year and I accepted, even though the class had already begun by the time I took it over and it turned out to be much more of a regular school thing than the optional after-school thing I initially thought it was.
I got another part-time job working at a nonprofit that sets up a summer internship and study program for disadvantaged youth. It's a great organization, and I do my work for them from home. A new kind of thing for me, but using skills I've developed from other jobs.
I met with Justin's colleagues and have begun (in principle) a collaboration wherein I help them develop teaching materials for the endangered language they are documenting.
The term ended at school and I agreed to teach another Tues/Thur class. This one I designed and I'm excited about seeing how it goes. We've had two meetings so far.
I've also agreed to start another class, once/week, for English learners. That hasn't begun yet.
I've turned down a chance to work on the school's charter renewal and re-accreditation submission, although I will probably end up being involved in some way.
I've almost finished reading Don Quijote (both parts), which is a great and funny book and should be much more widely read, but maybe published as a serial so its 1000+ pages are not so intimidating.
What else? Who knows! There are always changes afoot here.
Home Sweet Oakland
We're back from our trip up north, where we visited friends in Seattle and Portland. When I got back from Mexico, was fortunate enough to visit with S & E and watch the excitement of packing for an international flight that would take them home to a new life together in Australia.
The following day, Justin & I flew up north. It feels that I have been on the move, both physically and mentally, for longer than the month that it has been. Of course I'm still in the middle of the whirlwind; many changes are still afoot as Justin starts his first semester of full-time graduate study at Cal and I figure out what I'm going to do for income next.
If the four photos included here are not enough for you, check here to see all my photos of Mexico. I've labelled them, but didn't sort
through to select only the 
best so there's kind of a lot to slog through. Sorry!
Catalin in Mexico, part 1
Well, I'm here after a bit of airplane trouble and an unexpected night in Mexico City. My bag finally arrived Saturday evening and I'm now settled in my homestay. It's a beautiful city and there is no shortage of tourists, mostly American, but also plenty of Mexican tourists as well. I'm having trouble logging into my blog, so Justin is posting this. Don't know how many posts I'll make after all. Am keeping a journal though, and have taken a few pictures. Can check email at school.
Back in action
Coming soon... Guanajuato, Mexico.
I leave tomorrow, and will try to post a few observations and photos during the two and a half weeks I'll be there. Get out your Spanish dictionaries, as I plan to put my language skills to use!
I leave tomorrow, and will try to post a few observations and photos during the two and a half weeks I'll be there. Get out your Spanish dictionaries, as I plan to put my language skills to use!
Mountain Highs
Seven people. The seventh day. The seventh month. The year 2007. A lovely hike in the high Sierra. Alpine meadows full of wildflowers. Trees Mountain lakes. Snow patches. Clear water. Green- and orange-lichen encrusted rocks. Spectacular views.
Good company. Fresh air. Cam
pfire. Gu
itar. Conversation.
The Bulb
We've been on quite a few field outings since I last checked in. This is a picture of student M checking out the bay on our trip to the Bulb in Albany. San Francisco can be seen shrouded in fog across the bay. With the students we took our bikes on BART to Berkeley, rode down to the Berkeley Marina, then north on the trail to the horsetrack. The Bulb is basically behind the track. The kids found the ride a challenge--they remarked on it and seemed pretty pleased with themselves for having done it. I think they would have been satisfied just to have arrived and sat on logs in the sand looking out at the water, but when we started walking around the Bulb, they were really into it. For those who've never been there, it's a former dump that is now a wild park, with lots of the junk turned into art. There's basically an ever-changing gallery of sculture, painting and plain weird stuff, plus a variety of wild plants, birds, and people live there. I think the only thing the kids regretted about the day was that they hadn't brought spray paint to add their own touch to the piles of concrete rubble. On the way back, we rode into El Cerrito and caught BART there. It was a long and happy day.
Justin and I rode out there the following weekend (eschewing the BART riding) and took more pictures, like this:
Spring Break has broken (like the first spring)
Justin discovered a bike path in Berkeley and brought me out to explore it together. We rode up to the beginning of the trail and followed it up to the N. Berkeley BART station. From there, it followed along the BART line all the way through Albany and El Cerrito to Richmond. I think the length of the trail is about ten miles, and it is all pretty pleasant--a dedicated bike/skate trail with a separate paved walking path, so that pedestrians and bikers don't have to be scared or resentful of each other. At the end of the line in Richmond, past the Richmond BART station, the trail was planted with a bunch of flowers.
It was really lovely and what an unexpected glory to find in Richmond (though I suspect that Richmond, like Oakland, has its own charm despite the violence and suffering there).
I have always really liked the iconic symbols on signs, and this was a particularly great sign:
We did some other fun things too, during my break (Justin's was earlier) which I don't have pictures of, including some kite-flying at Berkeley marina with our friend Sanj this last Saturday. I filled the time with no problem (including with some school activities), and didn't get to half the things I had planned on doing, but it was a relaxing and restful holiday.
We started back to school with a bang--fieldtrips on Monday and Tuesday. Both went really well in my opinion. For the canoe trip, I was just happy to see everyone who came actually get into the canoes, get out on the water and get back to land safely with no major freak-outs, no tipped canoes and no worrisome horse-play. If they picked up any appreciation of the estuary or the importance of the ecology of the bay, then that's a bonus. Maybe I am succeeding in making my expectations more realistic.
There is a great group dynamic developing that I had hoped would emerge sooner, but now that it's happening I don't have to worry that it won't happen at all.
Today's trip, which involved visiting a shopping center built on a site that was previously a (toxic) paint factory, a turn-of-the-century amusement park, an Ohlone village, a middens and a burial ground. The students investigated different points in history and then we watched a documentary about the building of the shopping center and the discovery of the bones, etc. The students were quite moved by the story and really appalled by what they saw as an excess of greed by people who chose to build here even after the skeletons were discovered.
I also received a few excellent student projects today, which made me very happy. I'm looking forward to some students coming in on Thursday to work on projects that are not yet complete. I'm feeling optimistic about this program right now!
The wisteria on the back verandah is blooming
...with apologies to Paul Kelly.
This is the view from inside the house. There's not really a verandah, just stairs. The stairs are pretty creaky, which adds an element of excitement/fear to descending them, especially when they are wet and it's dark outside, as there is no light to turn on from in the house.
The other picture was taken from the landing where the stairs make a turn about halfway down.
Great day
Tuesday's field day was great. We had it all planned out and everything went really smoothly and on schedule! We went to a beautiful building, the YWCA designed by Julia Morgan, where we gathered around an unlit fireplace and discussed the novel we're reading (Octavia Butler's Parable of the Sower). I moved between the groups and they were all really actively connecting the issues in the book to their own lives. I was so happy! Next, my colleague organized a series of activities to get the students to think about what they themselves believe and also what they think about the role of religion and faith in other people's lives. It all worked really well and the students stayed engaged, asking lots of questions and opining, as they are wont to do. Finally, after lunch, another colleague prepared them for the next place we would visit.
We walked to BART in the rain, and nobody melted. I didn't even hear anyone complaining about getting wet. We caught our train, got off at the right stop and walked together the several blocks to the Berkeley Buddhist Monastery. A monk talked to the the students about a monk's life, the 5 precepts of Buddhism, his own story, and demonstrated various bells, bowing and a brief 5-breath meditation. The students were sometimes completely rapt. When they were not, they were generally talking about things he'd said. The monk showed great patience, as I don't think he ever got a chance to finish answering a single question before there were more questions. After about 90 minutes, he left us alone and we had a final closing circle, put our shoes back on and headed back to BART. Again, everything went smoothly.
Overall, it was a really good day. I felt energized at the end of the day, the way I have rarely felt all year with the independent studies program. I remembered that that was how I'd feel back when I had a good teaching day with a whole class. To see a bunch of kids engaged with ideas--that's what it's all about. The good energy carried me home, through several games of backgammon and into a good night's sleep! Well, actually I woke several times with work-related dreams, but I still felt refreshed and energized this morning.
Today was also good, although there are still some knotty problems we're dealing with. Still, I am now quite hopeful about the possibility of success for this type of program. Tomorrow we go up to the hills and do some fun math and logic problems, and work with maps and instruments! I'm looking forward to all of it.
We walked to BART in the rain, and nobody melted. I didn't even hear anyone complaining about getting wet. We caught our train, got off at the right stop and walked together the several blocks to the Berkeley Buddhist Monastery. A monk talked to the the students about a monk's life, the 5 precepts of Buddhism, his own story, and demonstrated various bells, bowing and a brief 5-breath meditation. The students were sometimes completely rapt. When they were not, they were generally talking about things he'd said. The monk showed great patience, as I don't think he ever got a chance to finish answering a single question before there were more questions. After about 90 minutes, he left us alone and we had a final closing circle, put our shoes back on and headed back to BART. Again, everything went smoothly.
Overall, it was a really good day. I felt energized at the end of the day, the way I have rarely felt all year with the independent studies program. I remembered that that was how I'd feel back when I had a good teaching day with a whole class. To see a bunch of kids engaged with ideas--that's what it's all about. The good energy carried me home, through several games of backgammon and into a good night's sleep! Well, actually I woke several times with work-related dreams, but I still felt refreshed and energized this morning.
Today was also good, although there are still some knotty problems we're dealing with. Still, I am now quite hopeful about the possibility of success for this type of program. Tomorrow we go up to the hills and do some fun math and logic problems, and work with maps and instruments! I'm looking forward to all of it.
New program has launched!
On Tuesday, we took BART to a park where we played games, made and ate lunch, developed group expectations and students got their novels and binders. Our goals were for students to know each other's names by the end of the day, to find something they had in common with someone else, and to have an idea and (perhaps foggy) picture of what the trimester has in store (oh, and to have fun). I think those missions were basically accomplished, though some students were somewhat resistent to some of them. Basically, though, the students were patient and good humored considering that things did not go as smoothly as I had hoped.
Today, we walked the students to a nearby park and then sent them out walking around observing the neighborhood. We regathered, discussed what they saw, and generated questions from their observations. Then we walked to the Oakland Museum of California where we tried to have another conversation in the gardens but were wildly outshouted by a million little kids also on fieldtrips today. After a break for lunch (in the museum gardens), students regathered for the intro to the science lesson. A scavenger hunt in the natural sciences gallery was finished quickly and students were given a chance to explore the other galleries. The day was over at 3:00.
What I'm learning from this program: team-teaching (co-teaching) is much more challenging for me than collaborating on ideas and curriculum. I am comfortable being in charge and not being in charge, but being in co-charge is weird, especially when all the teachers have different styles, somewhat different teaching philosophies, etc. Lots for me to process.
I generally think of myself as a positive person, but I am realizing that I am less easily satisfied than many others. I think my co teachers all felt pleased with the outcomes and I was a little disappointed. I reckon my expectations & hopes were higher, and therefore less likely to be fulfilled. Are people with lower expectations generally happier? I think maybe they are, but it seems slightly unethical--like cosmetic surgery or something--to purposely alter something so fundamental about oneself as one's instinct for high hopes.
Today, we walked the students to a nearby park and then sent them out walking around observing the neighborhood. We regathered, discussed what they saw, and generated questions from their observations. Then we walked to the Oakland Museum of California where we tried to have another conversation in the gardens but were wildly outshouted by a million little kids also on fieldtrips today. After a break for lunch (in the museum gardens), students regathered for the intro to the science lesson. A scavenger hunt in the natural sciences gallery was finished quickly and students were given a chance to explore the other galleries. The day was over at 3:00.
What I'm learning from this program: team-teaching (co-teaching) is much more challenging for me than collaborating on ideas and curriculum. I am comfortable being in charge and not being in charge, but being in co-charge is weird, especially when all the teachers have different styles, somewhat different teaching philosophies, etc. Lots for me to process.
I generally think of myself as a positive person, but I am realizing that I am less easily satisfied than many others. I think my co teachers all felt pleased with the outcomes and I was a little disappointed. I reckon my expectations & hopes were higher, and therefore less likely to be fulfilled. Are people with lower expectations generally happier? I think maybe they are, but it seems slightly unethical--like cosmetic surgery or something--to purposely alter something so fundamental about oneself as one's instinct for high hopes.
Constants & variables
I blogged at the beginning of the year about what changes the year might have in store for us, and what might stay the same. Already the year begins to reveal its secrets! On the side of constancy, it looks like we will be staying in the East Bay for awhile: Justin was just accepted into the PhD program at Berkeley. Some of you might be saying, "But of course he would be accepted," but it's a pretty competitive process and he wasn't feeling all that sure of his chances. So, he's happy to have been selected and I'm excited for him. The constant of location will be balanced with the variables of learning and doing new things.
I've pretty well decided I won't be part of the independent studies program next year; actually all four of us teachers feel that it shouldn't exist as it is, so it probably won't next year. I don't know what I'll do. I'm thinking of doing something part time. I'm thinking of doing something besides formal teaching. I'm thinking of how I could teach in a completely new way, outside of the strictures of the public school system, while still serving the kids who need my help the most.
I've pretty well decided I won't be part of the independent studies program next year; actually all four of us teachers feel that it shouldn't exist as it is, so it probably won't next year. I don't know what I'll do. I'm thinking of doing something part time. I'm thinking of doing something besides formal teaching. I'm thinking of how I could teach in a completely new way, outside of the strictures of the public school system, while still serving the kids who need my help the most.
Teaching
What I Like About Teaching
--getting to know people
--engaging with people in discussions of ideas, experience and feelings
--seeing people get excited about new ideas or having acquired a new skill or finally mastered something they'd been struggling with
--helping someone learn something new or understand something better or see something in a new way (that is, I like being a witness to learn just as much as I like being a facilitator of it)
What I Don't Like About Teaching
--assigning grades (to assignments or to people for the grading period)
--assessing people's work, especially work that has been done with little mind toward quality
--wrangling with, badgering, cajoling, or otherwise trying to coerce people into really putting their best effort into something
--being expected to get people to do things they don't want to do
--helping people keep track of what they've done and what they haven't done (and having to keep track of that myself--it's not that it's difficult, it's just that I don't like doing it)
--designing classes/curriculum that meet the impossibly broad and inconsistent range of standards that are now dictating be the State of California (actually, being told to design classes/curriculum based on anything other than student interest)
My Fantasy School: The School For People Who Want to Learn
You see that I don't have particular topics that I love to teach. I could get interested in teaching anything if I had students who wanted to know about that subject. So...what I really want is students who are interested in learning for the sake of knowing.
Who can attend my school? Anyone able to articulate what it is they want to learn (that means a 5-year-old could say, "I want to learn about how come the sun goes down and comes up again" or a 60-year-old could say, "I want a refresher on fractions; I never really understood them.")
--getting to know people
--engaging with people in discussions of ideas, experience and feelings
--seeing people get excited about new ideas or having acquired a new skill or finally mastered something they'd been struggling with
--helping someone learn something new or understand something better or see something in a new way (that is, I like being a witness to learn just as much as I like being a facilitator of it)
What I Don't Like About Teaching
--assigning grades (to assignments or to people for the grading period)
--assessing people's work, especially work that has been done with little mind toward quality
--wrangling with, badgering, cajoling, or otherwise trying to coerce people into really putting their best effort into something
--being expected to get people to do things they don't want to do
--helping people keep track of what they've done and what they haven't done (and having to keep track of that myself--it's not that it's difficult, it's just that I don't like doing it)
--designing classes/curriculum that meet the impossibly broad and inconsistent range of standards that are now dictating be the State of California (actually, being told to design classes/curriculum based on anything other than student interest)
My Fantasy School: The School For People Who Want to Learn
You see that I don't have particular topics that I love to teach. I could get interested in teaching anything if I had students who wanted to know about that subject. So...what I really want is students who are interested in learning for the sake of knowing.
Who can attend my school? Anyone able to articulate what it is they want to learn (that means a 5-year-old could say, "I want to learn about how come the sun goes down and comes up again" or a 60-year-old could say, "I want a refresher on fractions; I never really understood them.")
Here's how it would work: a person or group of people request a subject. If I can teach it, I set a day and time. I need to get let's say $20 per hour of classroom time (I know I'll need to spend some amount of time outside of class preparing, but I am willing to work for cheap because I would really enjoy my job and because I don't want to just teach rich people; I believe people should be able to afford to learn.) If there’s one student, that person pays $20/hour; if there are 20 students each pays only $1. So someone who wants to learn a certain thing might like to round up other people to bring the cost down, or they might want more of a tutorial and be willing to pay more. Many yoga, dance, and music classes work like this, I think.
Class consists of discussion, lecture or problem sets, whatever is appropriate for the topic. Class materials, if necessary, would need to be paid for by students, but I'd be willing to try most topics without handouts or outside readings. Students could decide if they want it to be a class based on outside readings or not. If students want to do homework, that’s their choice. If they want me to look over and comment on their written work, that’s an extra fee. Students would have to make a special request to have their work evaluated, and I might or might not choose to accept it. The work needs to be easy to look at and the person needs to be interested in my feedback. Classes continue as long as there is sufficient interest in the topic.
I would be willing to spend up to 20 hours/week in the classroom. (The “classroom” could be any space—a private home, a public library, a park in good weather. I might want to have a portable easel with white board and/or flipchart pad.) That could be 20 different classes or one intensive class. If others were interested in offering classes, they could post them (somewhere) and see if there is interest. Anyone can teach at my school, and anyone can be a student. There would be practically no infrastructure, as we wouldn’t be accountable to anyone but each other. If you can’t pay, you will have to find a way or not do the class. If someone really wants others to be able to take a class, they can write a grant or find some outside funding, but I would have nothing to do with it. I don’t want to keep track of who’s there, how often they come, etc. I’d rather not have to keep track of who has paid either, but I think I’d have to. I’d come up with a very simple system. My job would only be to facilitate learning.
What's Your Fantasy Learning Environment?
Fantasy School
The final project for one of my classes was to design a school. The school could be any place where any people learn anything. I told them they don't have to worry about where the money would come from either. I gave them a number of questions to answer about their school. They presented their ideas today and the results were pretty interesting.
Five of the six students who had it finished (in time for class) still chose to invent an academic school, or at least schools that had academic subjects available. (The sixth school was a gaming school--as in computer games--which also offered PE as an option). One school featured a helicopter landing pad on top and a waterslide down the outside of the building. All of the schools had multiple playing fields (something lacking from our school and many other urban schools.) Several schools required uniforms and most had some kind of interview and/or essay as an entrance requirement. (This surprised me a little.) One school offered to pay students who attend, but they would have to attend at least 3 days per week to get paid. (To that, another student said, "I'm comin 5 days a week if I'm gettin paid!")
Two schools offered dormitories. One of those was an all-boys football school (there'd be a girls' school next door). The other would have no teachers and would be entirely based on peer-teaching. Two of the schools require students to have some goal or dream of their future, upon which their education would be based (that is, they'd take the classes that were appropriate to their chosen career).
Another part of the project involved students choosing authors we'd read during the class and saying why those authors would or wouldn't like to attend their school. Most of the imaginary schools had libraries full of books that their inventors said would please the authors who had written about their love of reading. (Our school doesn't have a library, although the public library isn't too far away.)
Overall, it was a successful assignment in that it engaged students in reflecting on the learning process and writing a bit more than they had for other assignments. They were all quite interested in hearing about each other's ideas (something they don't get to do a lot of in independent study, unfortunately).
Tomorrow, we're all going to see the movie Freedom Writers. It was a student's request and I asked our executive director for the money, which she agreed to. I have 13 or 14 students signed up, plus another teacher is bring about 20 students from the YAYI (Youth Against Youth-Incarceration) group. We're going to meet at the school, walk to the busstop, ride up to Berkeley and see it up there. I am looking forward to seeing it with them and hearing what they think afterwards.
Anyone want to share their fantasy school?
Five of the six students who had it finished (in time for class) still chose to invent an academic school, or at least schools that had academic subjects available. (The sixth school was a gaming school--as in computer games--which also offered PE as an option). One school featured a helicopter landing pad on top and a waterslide down the outside of the building. All of the schools had multiple playing fields (something lacking from our school and many other urban schools.) Several schools required uniforms and most had some kind of interview and/or essay as an entrance requirement. (This surprised me a little.) One school offered to pay students who attend, but they would have to attend at least 3 days per week to get paid. (To that, another student said, "I'm comin 5 days a week if I'm gettin paid!")
Two schools offered dormitories. One of those was an all-boys football school (there'd be a girls' school next door). The other would have no teachers and would be entirely based on peer-teaching. Two of the schools require students to have some goal or dream of their future, upon which their education would be based (that is, they'd take the classes that were appropriate to their chosen career).
Another part of the project involved students choosing authors we'd read during the class and saying why those authors would or wouldn't like to attend their school. Most of the imaginary schools had libraries full of books that their inventors said would please the authors who had written about their love of reading. (Our school doesn't have a library, although the public library isn't too far away.)
Overall, it was a successful assignment in that it engaged students in reflecting on the learning process and writing a bit more than they had for other assignments. They were all quite interested in hearing about each other's ideas (something they don't get to do a lot of in independent study, unfortunately).
Tomorrow, we're all going to see the movie Freedom Writers. It was a student's request and I asked our executive director for the money, which she agreed to. I have 13 or 14 students signed up, plus another teacher is bring about 20 students from the YAYI (Youth Against Youth-Incarceration) group. We're going to meet at the school, walk to the busstop, ride up to Berkeley and see it up there. I am looking forward to seeing it with them and hearing what they think afterwards.
Anyone want to share their fantasy school?
Lives of Change . . . Changing Lives (thoughts on the changing of the year)
Two years ago, I had just arrived in the Northern Territory and Justin met me at the airport with a hand-picked bouquet of tropical flora. The air was thick with past and future rain, monsoonal rain, so very different from the cold wintry rain I'd just left behind in California.
One year ago, Justin and I were in New South Wales, enjoying our first (and only) holiday in Australia outside of the NT. We spent New Year's Eve with our friends Waz and Pas (whose lives have changed dramatically since then) visiting his parents' house.
The pace of change does not seem to be slowing down. When I named this blog "Change Junkies" I thought perhaps that it might seem silly after awhile because what were the chances that our lives would continue to change so much? Well, of course, the chances were good as long as we continued to embrace change with open arms. Do we seek it out or do we stumble into it? Are we simply running from boredom and predictability or moving toward our new true lives?
In January 1995, Justin and I moved in together, not sure at all of what changes lay ahead. Who could have predicted that in 12 years' time we'd be living in our 14th home together? That we'd have circled the globe more than once? That we'd be more deeply in love? That we'd be less, rather than more, sure of how best to use our talents in the world?
I don't know what the next year will bring, but I am sure there will be changes. Job changes? Likely for me. Housing changes? Always possible. City changes? I think we'll be here in this area at this time next year. Less easy to predict or even to recognize immediately are the internal changes. In what ways will each of us have changed in one year's time?
At my parents' house on Christmas Eve, I went into their basement study to look for a book. Browsing the bookshelves, I was struck by how many books I'd read and completely forgotten about. Whole series and genres with which I'd been obsessed at certain times suddenly came back to life. Since then I've been thinking of the ways in which my personality, values and views have been shaped by my reading.
I read a lot as a child. I checked out books from the library by the stack. I often read novels in a day or two, and I was never not reading something. When my library supply ran out before we could get back there, I'd head down to the basement study and pick something from my parents' shelves, usually something from my dad's 1950s science fiction collection. I just recently read some science fiction (Octavia Butler's Parable of the Sower) and was struck by the clunky heavy-handedness of the genre. Then I remembered that I'd lost interest in fantasy and science fiction in my late teens because the good guys and bad guys were too clear cut, the predictions about the future too obvious. I can't help but wonder, though, who would I be if I hadn't read so much of it?
It's impossible to know our possible selves. If this, if that. Are all our potential selves leading parallel lives in parallel universes? Or do we harbor our alternate selves within us? The selves that made better and worse choices than we did in this world, the selves that were fearless when we were fearful, the selves that were kind when we were selfish, as well as the selves that acted on every emotion when we acted with restraint and foresight. Who would we be without the knowledge of those other selves?
I wish a year of insight, laughter, stimulation and contentment to all of us. May suffering be lessened, may joy increase exponentially, and may love be the prevailing force in the world in 2007.
One year ago, Justin and I were in New South Wales, enjoying our first (and only) holiday in Australia outside of the NT. We spent New Year's Eve with our friends Waz and Pas (whose lives have changed dramatically since then) visiting his parents' house.
The pace of change does not seem to be slowing down. When I named this blog "Change Junkies" I thought perhaps that it might seem silly after awhile because what were the chances that our lives would continue to change so much? Well, of course, the chances were good as long as we continued to embrace change with open arms. Do we seek it out or do we stumble into it? Are we simply running from boredom and predictability or moving toward our new true lives?
In January 1995, Justin and I moved in together, not sure at all of what changes lay ahead. Who could have predicted that in 12 years' time we'd be living in our 14th home together? That we'd have circled the globe more than once? That we'd be more deeply in love? That we'd be less, rather than more, sure of how best to use our talents in the world?
I don't know what the next year will bring, but I am sure there will be changes. Job changes? Likely for me. Housing changes? Always possible. City changes? I think we'll be here in this area at this time next year. Less easy to predict or even to recognize immediately are the internal changes. In what ways will each of us have changed in one year's time?
At my parents' house on Christmas Eve, I went into their basement study to look for a book. Browsing the bookshelves, I was struck by how many books I'd read and completely forgotten about. Whole series and genres with which I'd been obsessed at certain times suddenly came back to life. Since then I've been thinking of the ways in which my personality, values and views have been shaped by my reading.
I read a lot as a child. I checked out books from the library by the stack. I often read novels in a day or two, and I was never not reading something. When my library supply ran out before we could get back there, I'd head down to the basement study and pick something from my parents' shelves, usually something from my dad's 1950s science fiction collection. I just recently read some science fiction (Octavia Butler's Parable of the Sower) and was struck by the clunky heavy-handedness of the genre. Then I remembered that I'd lost interest in fantasy and science fiction in my late teens because the good guys and bad guys were too clear cut, the predictions about the future too obvious. I can't help but wonder, though, who would I be if I hadn't read so much of it?
It's impossible to know our possible selves. If this, if that. Are all our potential selves leading parallel lives in parallel universes? Or do we harbor our alternate selves within us? The selves that made better and worse choices than we did in this world, the selves that were fearless when we were fearful, the selves that were kind when we were selfish, as well as the selves that acted on every emotion when we acted with restraint and foresight. Who would we be without the knowledge of those other selves?
I wish a year of insight, laughter, stimulation and contentment to all of us. May suffering be lessened, may joy increase exponentially, and may love be the prevailing force in the world in 2007.
Back in November...
We spent Thanksgiving down in the desert. The meal itself, a gourmet yet traditional feast, was prepared and served by my aunt and uncle at their house in Yucca Valley, assisted by her fabulous mother. Before the meal and the following day, various members of the clan drove over to Joshua Tree National Park for some rock scrambling and desert hiking.
Some people couldn't resist climbing for a view.
The weather and landscape were spectacular.
After two nights of breathing the crisp desert air, we drove into Los Angeles. We spent the night in a hotel near the airport because one member of our party was flying out early in the morning. The smog reminded me of some sci-fi vision of a dystopic future. The lack of trees (besides palm trees) was also disturbing. I took this picture from the hotel room (non-opening) window.
Some people couldn't resist climbing for a view.
The weather and landscape were spectacular.
After two nights of breathing the crisp desert air, we drove into Los Angeles. We spent the night in a hotel near the airport because one member of our party was flying out early in the morning. The smog reminded me of some sci-fi vision of a dystopic future. The lack of trees (besides palm trees) was also disturbing. I took this picture from the hotel room (non-opening) window.
The Christmas Photos
Nephew K is ready for the goods. Aha! Who knew the goods would be so...chewable?
After the traditional Christmas crackers provided by the Irish relative, everyone was royalty.
A Hike in the City
A couple days ago, Justin and I took a nice hike on the San Francisco coast, part of which was part of the California Coastal Trail. We took a bus across the bay which was itself a novel experience for me, as I'm more used to taking BART which goes under the water. Being up on the bridge and up high in a bus, we were able to see the progress on the new Bay Bridge--pretty impressive! Next time, I'll get a picture.
From the Transbay Terminal, we caught a bus acro
ss town. Instead of feeling frustrated by its slowness, we enjoyed the chance to see the city and its denizens in action all along Geary Street.
Although we had intended to start our hike at Ocean Beach, we got off the bus at Sutro Beach when the bus driver announced the end of the line. Here's a map of San Francisco, for easy reference. We started our walk north of Ocean Beach. The trail led us through some beautiful trees (cypress, I think).
After awhile we came around a corner with a perfect view of the Golden Gate Bridge in front of us. (We were willing to turn our backs to it for the sake of the photo.)
Further along, we climbed down through some more beautiful trees, like this on
e.
I wish the color of these photos represented the truly sparkling blue of the sky that day.
Down at a great rocky shore, Justin went to inspect a mass of mussels on the rocks.
Unfortunately, that's when the camera batteries died. After that is when we discovered that the spare batteries were not in fact charged. So the rest of the trip went undocumented (except of course by the porous net of memory).
Later, the walk took us up through some incredible mansiony neighborhood where all the houses have walls of windows looking out on the bay (the kind of houses that made one of us say "This sort of makes me want to have buttloads of money" and the other of us to say, "It's kind of amazing that the poor haven't risen up yet"). Then we walked back down to Baker Beach and ate the lunch that we'd brought and watched other people also enjoying the beach.
Finally, we walked under the Golden Gate Bridge, across it, and then back. That in itself is an interesting experience. Many people, of many ages, from many lands (and from other parts of this one) were gathered at each end of the bridge, and others were walking, jogging, and cycling across. Even for those of us who grew up seeing and passing over the bridge, seeing it up close really brings into focus its amazing vision and engineering. I came away with a renewed sense of wonder and admiration for people with big ideas who see them through.
From the Transbay Terminal, we caught a bus acro
ss town. Instead of feeling frustrated by its slowness, we enjoyed the chance to see the city and its denizens in action all along Geary Street. Although we had intended to start our hike at Ocean Beach, we got off the bus at Sutro Beach when the bus driver announced the end of the line. Here's a map of San Francisco, for easy reference. We started our walk north of Ocean Beach. The trail led us through some beautiful trees (cypress, I think).
After awhile we came around a corner with a perfect view of the Golden Gate Bridge in front of us. (We were willing to turn our backs to it for the sake of the photo.)Further along, we climbed down through some more beautiful trees, like this on
e.I wish the color of these photos represented the truly sparkling blue of the sky that day.
Down at a great rocky shore, Justin went to inspect a mass of mussels on the rocks.
Unfortunately, that's when the camera batteries died. After that is when we discovered that the spare batteries were not in fact charged. So the rest of the trip went undocumented (except of course by the porous net of memory).Later, the walk took us up through some incredible mansiony neighborhood where all the houses have walls of windows looking out on the bay (the kind of houses that made one of us say "This sort of makes me want to have buttloads of money" and the other of us to say, "It's kind of amazing that the poor haven't risen up yet"). Then we walked back down to Baker Beach and ate the lunch that we'd brought and watched other people also enjoying the beach.
Finally, we walked under the Golden Gate Bridge, across it, and then back. That in itself is an interesting experience. Many people, of many ages, from many lands (and from other parts of this one) were gathered at each end of the bridge, and others were walking, jogging, and cycling across. Even for those of us who grew up seeing and passing over the bridge, seeing it up close really brings into focus its amazing vision and engineering. I came away with a renewed sense of wonder and admiration for people with big ideas who see them through.
Dragons and Quakes
Yesterday, I looked out the front windows to see a dozen or more Harleys parked up and down both sides of the street. The riders all had leather jackets with their club name and logo on the back: East Bay Dragons--Oakland. See pictures and read about them at Soul On Bikes. Beautiful bikes and one of the riders was in full Santa suit. They had a large wrapped box which they carried up to one of the apartments across the street. Meanwhile, Justin and I were desperately trying to find some fresh batteries for the camera. Santa took off his Santa hat and put on a helmet--one of those little half size helmets that don't really cover the ears--on top of his white curly Santa wig. Then they all drove off in a loud cloud of glory. It was really a sight to see and I am so sorry I don't have a picture to post.
We discovered that even in our flashlights we had only weak batteries, the discovery of which made us think more about how prepared we are (not) for an emergency.
Speaking of emergencies...we've had earthquakes the last several days, all centered not far away. Before last week, I had only experiences two earthquakes that I'd actually felt. I was in the kitchen on the phone and the all the dishes started rattling and the floor shook. Justin, in the next room, and I both shouted "Earthquake!" to each other and then when it subsided we walked around to inspect the consequences. A golf ball and a small stuffed animal both jumped off of bookshelves, but there was no damage. I thought maybe we felt it extra much because we're on the top storey, but everyone was talking about it the next day at school. For those who aren't going to go read the article linked above, the earthquakes were all 3.7 magnitude, and centered very near us. Maybe we'll finally finish putting together our emergency kit now: so far I think it contains a flashlight (with dead batteries), a roll of toilet paper, a couple cans of tuna or sardines, and maybe a blanket. Hmmm...
Well, here's hoping that you all are ready for any shaking that might come your way, and that you are enjoying the lengthening days and time with friends and family.
We discovered that even in our flashlights we had only weak batteries, the discovery of which made us think more about how prepared we are (not) for an emergency.
Speaking of emergencies...we've had earthquakes the last several days, all centered not far away. Before last week, I had only experiences two earthquakes that I'd actually felt. I was in the kitchen on the phone and the all the dishes started rattling and the floor shook. Justin, in the next room, and I both shouted "Earthquake!" to each other and then when it subsided we walked around to inspect the consequences. A golf ball and a small stuffed animal both jumped off of bookshelves, but there was no damage. I thought maybe we felt it extra much because we're on the top storey, but everyone was talking about it the next day at school. For those who aren't going to go read the article linked above, the earthquakes were all 3.7 magnitude, and centered very near us. Maybe we'll finally finish putting together our emergency kit now: so far I think it contains a flashlight (with dead batteries), a roll of toilet paper, a couple cans of tuna or sardines, and maybe a blanket. Hmmm...
Well, here's hoping that you all are ready for any shaking that might come your way, and that you are enjoying the lengthening days and time with friends and family.
Winter solstice, new school program in works
Winter has arrived. I've taken the bus or BART all week; my poor bicycle sits neglected in the backyard. We wear hats inside (especially to bed) and it takes several days for the laundry to dry in the sunroom.
Seeing a few houses in my neighborhood decked with Christmas lights, I remembered how bedazzled Chico houses always were. Garish plastic Santa blow-ups and Nativity scene plywood cutouts aside, I have to admit I've always been a bit fond of seeing lights up at this time of year (while also recognizing it as a pure waste of resources). It's interesting that there doesn't seem to be much outdoor lighting in our neighborhood.
On the work front, I'm getting excited about a new approach we are planning for the final trimester (March-April). It will be non-classroom based (field trips) and interdisciplinary, while still being somewhat independent study. Students will have a science/math field trip and a humanities (language arts, history, arts) field trip each week, then do independent work on the remaining 3 days. It's exciting to plan and to have something different to look forward to. Although it won't address all the problems inherent in an independent studies program aimed at students who've missed out on a lot of school, it may ameliorate some of the issues.
The themes we're going to address on the humanities side are (a) religious and philosophical foundations of world culture, and (b)"globalization"--meaning the movement of people, ideas, and goods around the globe, but not just in the past century.
Can anyone suggest another term for "globalization" that isn't so loaded? Also, I'm looking for great short literature pieces that might tie in, especially if they have a California connection. I think we're going to read The Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler, which I have't yet read. My humanities colleague recommended it and it looks good. I was thinking of having a few novels for students to choose from and then doing discussion groups on themes, but I'm starting to think it might be easier to just stick with one novel, especially the first time. Does anybody have any novels they love that are at a middle-school reading level that would fit in here?
I'd love your feedback and suggestions as I move into planning this unit.
I hope everyone is finding the short days and long nights of winter to be inspirational and comforting. There's something cozy about darkness; without the overload of sensory input of long bright hectic summer days, there may be more time to reflect and create. I say this now, but I know that I'll rejoice at every blue-sky-day reprieve throughout the rest of the winter rainy season!
Seeing a few houses in my neighborhood decked with Christmas lights, I remembered how bedazzled Chico houses always were. Garish plastic Santa blow-ups and Nativity scene plywood cutouts aside, I have to admit I've always been a bit fond of seeing lights up at this time of year (while also recognizing it as a pure waste of resources). It's interesting that there doesn't seem to be much outdoor lighting in our neighborhood.
On the work front, I'm getting excited about a new approach we are planning for the final trimester (March-April). It will be non-classroom based (field trips) and interdisciplinary, while still being somewhat independent study. Students will have a science/math field trip and a humanities (language arts, history, arts) field trip each week, then do independent work on the remaining 3 days. It's exciting to plan and to have something different to look forward to. Although it won't address all the problems inherent in an independent studies program aimed at students who've missed out on a lot of school, it may ameliorate some of the issues.
The themes we're going to address on the humanities side are (a) religious and philosophical foundations of world culture, and (b)"globalization"--meaning the movement of people, ideas, and goods around the globe, but not just in the past century.
Can anyone suggest another term for "globalization" that isn't so loaded? Also, I'm looking for great short literature pieces that might tie in, especially if they have a California connection. I think we're going to read The Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler, which I have't yet read. My humanities colleague recommended it and it looks good. I was thinking of having a few novels for students to choose from and then doing discussion groups on themes, but I'm starting to think it might be easier to just stick with one novel, especially the first time. Does anybody have any novels they love that are at a middle-school reading level that would fit in here?
I'd love your feedback and suggestions as I move into planning this unit.
I hope everyone is finding the short days and long nights of winter to be inspirational and comforting. There's something cozy about darkness; without the overload of sensory input of long bright hectic summer days, there may be more time to reflect and create. I say this now, but I know that I'll rejoice at every blue-sky-day reprieve throughout the rest of the winter rainy season!
urban teaching
One day when I was feeling sick (and I’ve been in extraordinarily ill health for the past two months), I remarked to the one student in the office that I thought I had a fever and pulled out a thermometer and slipped it in my mouth. (You should know that I don’t always carry a thermometer around but had brought it because my fever and other symptoms on the previous day had reminded me of malaria, and it’s always good to track your fever pattern when you have malaria.) My student’s eyes grew huge as she looked at me in utter disbelief. I realized that it might be completely strange to her that I would have my own thermometer. She had told me the week before that there were no scissors at her house.
Every day I get glimpses into lives that are so very different from my own. Sometimes it’s more than glimpses: it’s like they invite me in for an open house. My job turns out to be a lot more counseling than I am qualified to do, I’m afraid.
Here’s a smattering of recent issues:
--uncle’s semi is broken into by his ne’er-do-well brother. Uncle is accused of being an accessory and uncle’s house (where my student is staying) is sealed by the FBI for investigation.
--several hospitalizations of students and family members for asthma
--student’s mom may be going to jail for a little while, so student must drop out of school to work full time
--student’s grandmother doesn’t approve of her butch (“stud” in student’s lingo) look nor lesbian lifestyle
--student’s boyfriend is picked up on a yea- old warrant and locked up. She can’t visit him because she’s a minor and he’s in adult jail.
--botched abortion (on-going issue)
--15-year-old student leaves much-older abusive live-in boyfriend
--student tells me of her neglected childhood with a parent she no longer lives with
--student’s father confiscates her legal papers, threatens to burn them and send her back to Mexico
--student tells me about her gift of sight: she’s dreamed many things that have come true and lately she’s dreamed her own death three times
--parent conferences with families that are clearly highly dysfunctional, if not actually abusive
--several girls who don’t have time for school work because they have to look after younger siblings
--many students are dealing with having lost friends and family members to violence
So…that’s probably why I’m not writing much lately. I feel so inadequate at helping students make sense of their lives. Sometimes I know they just want to be listened to, but sometimes I think they want advice and I just don’t have it. While I am somewhat flattered or honored that they choose to share so much with me, I feel a little resentful too. How can I be given this responsibility without also being given the tools to fulfill it?
Every day I get glimpses into lives that are so very different from my own. Sometimes it’s more than glimpses: it’s like they invite me in for an open house. My job turns out to be a lot more counseling than I am qualified to do, I’m afraid.
Here’s a smattering of recent issues:
--uncle’s semi is broken into by his ne’er-do-well brother. Uncle is accused of being an accessory and uncle’s house (where my student is staying) is sealed by the FBI for investigation.
--several hospitalizations of students and family members for asthma
--student’s mom may be going to jail for a little while, so student must drop out of school to work full time
--student’s grandmother doesn’t approve of her butch (“stud” in student’s lingo) look nor lesbian lifestyle
--student’s boyfriend is picked up on a yea- old warrant and locked up. She can’t visit him because she’s a minor and he’s in adult jail.
--botched abortion (on-going issue)
--15-year-old student leaves much-older abusive live-in boyfriend
--student tells me of her neglected childhood with a parent she no longer lives with
--student’s father confiscates her legal papers, threatens to burn them and send her back to Mexico
--student tells me about her gift of sight: she’s dreamed many things that have come true and lately she’s dreamed her own death three times
--parent conferences with families that are clearly highly dysfunctional, if not actually abusive
--several girls who don’t have time for school work because they have to look after younger siblings
--many students are dealing with having lost friends and family members to violence
So…that’s probably why I’m not writing much lately. I feel so inadequate at helping students make sense of their lives. Sometimes I know they just want to be listened to, but sometimes I think they want advice and I just don’t have it. While I am somewhat flattered or honored that they choose to share so much with me, I feel a little resentful too. How can I be given this responsibility without also being given the tools to fulfill it?
Days of the Dead, etc.
Without making mention of my long absence, I'll just jump right back into this blogging thing.
Last weekend we went to the Dia de los Muertos celebration in Fruitvale, the especially Latino section of Oakland. As soon as we got off BART, we could hear singing and then drumming. The pedestrian mall was lined with altar booths and the intersections were occupied by dancers and other entertainers. International Boulevard was lined with food and sales and information and art booths for a mile in each direction (or so it seemed). It was a gloriously sunny day. The smell of burning sage mixed with the smells of cooking meat and sugary confections (skulls made of colored sugar are a specialty of the holiday). Men and boys pushed ice cream carts through the crowds, ringing small bells to announce their presence, and several vendors were selling large inflatable plastic...things. I always noticed the smell of the fresh plastic (like a new shower curtain liner) and was so put off I forgot to really inspect what they were selling. I did notice that they all had large (2 feet long) inflatable hammers with some sort of cartoon character on them.
I asked a crafts vendor about a price in Spanish and got a flood of Spanish back. My first reaction was to panic (Oh no, I can't understand that, I have to switch to English and apologize), but then I realized that I did actually understand what she had said--at least the main points (she had told me the price and explained that the items were all hand made). So, I said I understood (in Spanish), but obviously didn't look interested enough. She asked me in Spanish what price I was willing/able to pay (again, my first reaction was, "Oh my god, I don't know what she's saying. Now I'm really in trouble" and again I realized that I did know what she had said).
I am grateful for that interaction and my awareness of my reactions. I am convinced that if only I could spend enough time speaking Spanish with native speakers I would get over my panic reactions and actually maybe make progress in my learning!
Last night we went to a film and lecture up on campus (by that I always mean Cal! a.k.a. UCBerkeley) at the Museum of Anthropology where Justin works. It was an anthro film about a Pomo (California Indian) shaman made in the early 1960s. The accompanying lecturer was the son of the woman featured in the film. He explained what she was doing in the healing ceremony and some background on the filming. It was interesting, and it's especially good to see anthro materials being shared by members of the group under inspection, rather than by outsiders. The museum has a cultural attache unit which I find really heartening.
Today is a holiday from school, thanks to our venerable veterans. To celebrate, Justin and I are going to see Borat at a matinee. It is, by the way, another glorious blue-sky-and-sunshine kind of day, so it'll be hard to go inside a movie theater, but my frugality will win out over my urge to soak sunshine at every possible juncture.
Last weekend we went to the Dia de los Muertos celebration in Fruitvale, the especially Latino section of Oakland. As soon as we got off BART, we could hear singing and then drumming. The pedestrian mall was lined with altar booths and the intersections were occupied by dancers and other entertainers. International Boulevard was lined with food and sales and information and art booths for a mile in each direction (or so it seemed). It was a gloriously sunny day. The smell of burning sage mixed with the smells of cooking meat and sugary confections (skulls made of colored sugar are a specialty of the holiday). Men and boys pushed ice cream carts through the crowds, ringing small bells to announce their presence, and several vendors were selling large inflatable plastic...things. I always noticed the smell of the fresh plastic (like a new shower curtain liner) and was so put off I forgot to really inspect what they were selling. I did notice that they all had large (2 feet long) inflatable hammers with some sort of cartoon character on them.
I asked a crafts vendor about a price in Spanish and got a flood of Spanish back. My first reaction was to panic (Oh no, I can't understand that, I have to switch to English and apologize), but then I realized that I did actually understand what she had said--at least the main points (she had told me the price and explained that the items were all hand made). So, I said I understood (in Spanish), but obviously didn't look interested enough. She asked me in Spanish what price I was willing/able to pay (again, my first reaction was, "Oh my god, I don't know what she's saying. Now I'm really in trouble" and again I realized that I did know what she had said).
I am grateful for that interaction and my awareness of my reactions. I am convinced that if only I could spend enough time speaking Spanish with native speakers I would get over my panic reactions and actually maybe make progress in my learning!
Last night we went to a film and lecture up on campus (by that I always mean Cal! a.k.a. UCBerkeley) at the Museum of Anthropology where Justin works. It was an anthro film about a Pomo (California Indian) shaman made in the early 1960s. The accompanying lecturer was the son of the woman featured in the film. He explained what she was doing in the healing ceremony and some background on the filming. It was interesting, and it's especially good to see anthro materials being shared by members of the group under inspection, rather than by outsiders. The museum has a cultural attache unit which I find really heartening.
Today is a holiday from school, thanks to our venerable veterans. To celebrate, Justin and I are going to see Borat at a matinee. It is, by the way, another glorious blue-sky-and-sunshine kind of day, so it'll be hard to go inside a movie theater, but my frugality will win out over my urge to soak sunshine at every possible juncture.
Computer's Back
We had to send our laptop to Texas to get repaired and have been without it for a couple weeks. Somehow, I never felt like blogging on the desktop (perhaps due to the fact that my passwords are saved on my laptop and I'd have to go look them up somewhere in order to log onto my blogsite from another computer!)
So much to write about w.r.t. my job, not sure where exactly to start. I'll post something soon.
On other fronts, we spontaneously (well, 3 days in advance is spontaneous for us!)rented a car and drove to Chico last weekend. We saw several friends and had a really good time. It was nice that it was still comfortable to be with our friends, even after two years away.
Chico itself, though, was another story. There is something a little strange about visiting a place you've lived before; it's kind of like hearing a song on the radio from your teenage years--there's the initial comforting pang of familiarity, followed by threads of emotions which make you ask, "Did I love this song or hate it?" followed by embarrassment that you can't really remember, or embarrassment that you liked something so bad, or embarrassment that you now feel happy to hear something that you once hated.
Well, visiting Chico was maybe not quite like that. More like re-reading something that you wrote a few years ago. You feel both fond of it and faintly uninterested; it is part of who you are, but it's still the past.
Okay, I am getting tired and silly. I'll write something more thoughtful at another time!
So much to write about w.r.t. my job, not sure where exactly to start. I'll post something soon.
On other fronts, we spontaneously (well, 3 days in advance is spontaneous for us!)rented a car and drove to Chico last weekend. We saw several friends and had a really good time. It was nice that it was still comfortable to be with our friends, even after two years away.
Chico itself, though, was another story. There is something a little strange about visiting a place you've lived before; it's kind of like hearing a song on the radio from your teenage years--there's the initial comforting pang of familiarity, followed by threads of emotions which make you ask, "Did I love this song or hate it?" followed by embarrassment that you can't really remember, or embarrassment that you liked something so bad, or embarrassment that you now feel happy to hear something that you once hated.
Well, visiting Chico was maybe not quite like that. More like re-reading something that you wrote a few years ago. You feel both fond of it and faintly uninterested; it is part of who you are, but it's still the past.
Okay, I am getting tired and silly. I'll write something more thoughtful at another time!
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