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. Campfire. Guitar. 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.

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.

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.

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.")

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?

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.

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.

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 across 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 one.

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.

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!

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?

Dancing in memory of the dead. 

A dancer in motion. Around her ankles are seed-pod rattles which make a very agreeable sound! 

Some dancers between songs. 

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.

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!

2nd Day of School

Although it's the second day of school, it doesn't feel like it. My students meet with me in groups of 10 for 45 minutes once a week. None of my groups met on Monday, which was occupied with administrative duties and the other part of my student contact: advisory. I meet with each of my advisees (so far I have about 24, but may have up to 30) for a half hour each week. Monday and today were hectic with meeting and registering new students (looking at transcripts to see what credits they need, finding space for them in small group meetings, etc.), meeting with my advisees, and dealing with advisees who showed up late for their appointments.

Some students are 17 years old or older and don't have any high school credits yet, but want to get a high school diploma and don't seem daunted by starting from scratch.

Many students have jobs or want to get jobs, but also want to finish high school. One student is pursuing Independent Study so that he can get a job because his father recently had a heart attack and the son feels he needs to work to support the family. A few students have babies or are pregnant. The father of one of the babies is also in the program, so we have a whole family (the baby was there today too).

I think it doesn't quite feel like school yet because I don't have classes full of students to get to know or daily lesson plans to prepare. I did have two group meetings today. Forty-five minutes went by quickly. I didn't spend class time on get-to-know-you activities, as I will get to know them from the work they turn in (including personal reflective essays). Some of our students are interested in Independent Study because they have had social problems in school (not that they are socially inept in a nerdy way, but more likely involved in fighting and hurtful teenage intrigue), so I didn't want to make them get all touchy-feely with each other.

Once again I've realized that one of the benefits/pleasures of teaching is just getting to know so many interesting people. As a teacher, I get a little bit inside my students' lives for a little while, and I always feel privileged by that.

We've been camping and my dirty feet are the proof! 

The boulders were really impressive. Unfortunately, it's hard to show their scale. See my head in the lower righthand corner? I'm standing up. 

Good food, good fires, good hikes, good fun. 

The meadow near the campground where we began our hike. 

This mountain columbine, called shooting star, was still in bloom in shadier areas. 

My brother explained that this attractive plant is a bit of a cheater. If I remember (and understood) correctly, it lives off a fungus that grows underground. This fungus has a symbiotic relationship with other plants, but this plant does not photosynthesize (having no leaves), so the poor fungus gets nuthin'.  

At some point we reached the elevation preferred by junipers like these. 

A look backwards at the meadow from whence we came. 

Destination: Burnside Lake. 

What better place to play some Settlers of Catan? 

Julius gives way to Augustus

Tomorrow begins that venerable month with the grand name. It's the month when people in Northern Hemispheric countries with both wealth and a cultural focus on enjoying life take weeks off and go on holiday. (Funny language side note: I saw my principal last week and he said he had just gotten back from Alaska. I said, "Were you on holiday?" which must have confused him a bit because his answer was, "We were on vacation." Then I realized that I was using the British/Australian usage; I caught myself saying "different to" instead of "different from" the other day too! What's happened to my linguistic identity?!)Anyway, we live in a country whose culture promotes the idea that we should enjoy work (rather than life in general), so there will be no disruptive month-long holidays/vacations here!

I haven't blogged because I've been spending plenty o' time on the computer with my online class (teaching reading to adolescents) and my curriculum preparation for next year. I also spent a week in Sacramento taking a one-week course (teaching students with disabilities) and spent not-quite-enough time studying for the third exam for becoming a social studies teacher. (More on that when I get the results in a few weeks!)

Some of the other activities of the past month are represented in the pictures and captions below. Not pictured were several Oakland/Berkeley hills hikes, a few nights of Settlers of Catan, backgammon at the Starry Plough, numerous neighborhood walks, some yoga,trips to various farmer's markets, and Saturday's visit to Point Reyes, where we wished we'd gone when Langguj Gel was here. Next time, Langguj Gel!

In August--the only month that's also an adjective--we can look forward to (a) a Kaser camping trip to Grover Hot Springs, (b) Justin's birthday, and (c) the beginning of my school year.

We had a visit from the Langguj Gel. We all spent the week quietly working on our computers. Then on her last day, we went over to San Francisco for dinner and a drive through Golden Gate Park, where some of us were really inspired by the American Bison.