:: p-dog ::

My debate analysis

Way to not suck, everyone!

I was rather impressed with both of them. Of course, my expectations are so low that success = me being able to watch them speak without cringing.

:: Leslie H - 9:38 PM - ::

Yes, there was an earthquake this morning, 6.0, somewhere between LA and SF. No, I did not feel it, making this my 2nd imperceptible California earthquake. No wonder people get so blase about them.

In other news this week, I arrived at school yesterday morning to find my classroom windows and doors smeared in machine lubricant (construction workers next door failed to realize that a nearby middle school necessitates locking up *everything*). From the inside of the room, it looked like dirty vaseline. From outside, shit. Last year I would have taken it personally.

My week is humming along, earthquakes and vandalism notwithstanding. I'm currently loving this op-ed in the nytimes by Al Gore,"How to Debate George Bush." A lot of it is predictable rhetoric, but he not only quotes John Stewart, he closes with a little self-mockery. And you've got to respect self-mockery. It's the only reason anyone likes Bob Dole.

Here's the end (it's only funny if you remember the 2000 debates):

The biggest single difference between the debates this year and four years ago is that President Bush cannot simply make promises. He has a record. And I hope that voters will recall the last time Mr. Bush stood on stage for a presidential debate. If elected, he said, he would support allowing Americans to buy prescription drugs from Canada. He promised that his tax cuts would create millions of new jobs. He vowed to end partisan bickering in Washington. Above all, he pledged that if he put American troops into combat: "The force must be strong enough so that the mission can be accomplished. And the exit strategy needs to be well defined.

Comparing these grandiose promises to his failed record, it's enough to make anyone want to, well, sigh.

:: Leslie H - 6:04 PM - ::

A weekday trip to the grocery story is a draining chore. It takes a long time, my feet and legs are just about ready to give out, and it interferes with my hour-long post-work decompression, during which time I like to watch mindless television, like reruns of Friends.

Yesterday, though, both thinking we would be the first home, in a mutual effort to be generous and considerate, Bryan and I independently hit the grocery store on our ways back from work and school. We each wanted to spare the other the errand.

We discovered each other there only when Bryan called my cell phone to see if there was anything I needed, and heard it ring in the next aisle.

:: Leslie H - 10:11 AM - ::

Clare has a Peace Corps update from the heart of darkest Africa. Yay for adventures.

:: Leslie H - 2:58 PM - ::

In my classroom after school, trying to hold out here in San Jose until happy hour with friends. If it doesn't happen soon, though, I'm going to have to give up and make for Fremont.

I'm looking at quotations to use as journal prompts tomorrow, and I enjoyed this one:

"The advantage of a classical education is that it enables you to despise the wealth which it prevents you from achieving." – Russell Green

:: Leslie H - 3:00 PM - ::

I realized today that, all unknowing, I've been teaching most of those charming at-risk youth again. This year they are not intentionally segregating them from the rest of the school (a hugely positive step), but they often end up in the same class anyway. Their schedules are dictated by the fact that they tutor at a local elementary school for two class periods/day. Since I am teaching the lowest-performing 8th graders who understand English, and the risky youth tend to fit that description, my class became the natural pooling point.

It's a little comforting to have this excuse--if my 6th period class is so rocky, at least I can point to those special few students instead of having to write myself off as a permanently incompetent teacher.

I don't really feel incompetent. Just uninspired, unlike seemingly all of my TFA brethren. Oh well. Next career starts in 11 months. I reactivated my Berkeley application this afternoon.

Here are two pictures, offerings in recompense for the paucity of posts.


When it rained, Sunday morning. My vantage: curled up at the patio door, looking up into the redwoods and raindrops.



Bryan slathers stuffing into our signature salmon dish (or: how to make fish unhealthy, 101). I like the blurring and the way his face stands out. I wish I knew anything about photography...

:: Leslie H - 7:38 PM - ::

I've found blogging difficult recently, without really knowing why. So apologies for the lack of posts--just haven't felt much like writing.

The most exciting that happened all weekend was that it rained for about 20 minutes. I hunkered by the open patio door and watched it fall through the redwoods outside our window. The heat broke a last week (it's still not pleasant teaching without AC, but at least we're not being broiled), and yesterday it was overcast and 60ish in Fremont. But rain today was a whole new thrill. It was back to normal by noon, naturally. And the 10-day forecast has us back to incessant sunshine again. But I suppose rain wouldn't be so exciting if it happened more than once since March.

The woman who teaches next door to me, a 39-year Fischer veteran and Fremont resident, invited me to church with her today at the South Bay Community Church. I wasn't sure what to expect, but it turned out to be a friendly, nondenominational black church, which encouraged lots of singing, hand-clapping, and hugging of neighbors during the two-hour service. It wasn't quite as boisterous or as large as the African American church I went to once in Austin, but I had fun. The sermon was a long, practical assessment of how to have good friends (choose good soil and water the relationship regularly with Commitment, Confidentiality, and Constructivism--and expose it to plenty of "Son"). So, you know, that was good to find out.

Mostly I'm just rolling through September, with good days and bad. Now I'm going to have a beer and make dinner with Bryan and his friends.

:: Leslie H - 6:50 PM - ::

My my, thank goodness it's Friday. I'm eating Shrek fruit snacks in my classroom at brunch. Four more class periods...

:: Leslie H - 10:26 AM - ::

Monday night: a great time to reflect on the weekend...
Bryan and I had a classically fabulous Friday night, complete with drinks, snuggling, and an excellent dinner I don't remember. Saturday I got in my share of loafing, and that night I went to see Jenn perform with her new improv troupe (opening night). Good fun which I highly recommend, despite the theater/yoga studio/gaelic dance forum being in a rather seedy part of Oakland, in which I confess being a little frightened to leave my car on the street. Sunday I declined the free benefit Dave Matthews concert in Golden Gate Park, much to my chagrin, in favor of (yay!) grading papers. Johanna and Catie have written posts that fill me with remorse for missing it.

After a frustrating day with my 5/6th period class on Friday (we practiced walking in the room quietly for almost ten minutes and only did it right when the principal wandered over to see what the hell was the matter), we made a comeback today. I was super-strict; they were super-good. Except for a few complaints (Reyna: "Ms. Hall, why do you have to be like that? Appropriate response I did not make: "Because if I'm not, you go crazy, and I go home and try to kill myself.") I kept the usual seven or so if for detention for offenses ranging from poking another student to snickering out of turn. I'm as mean as I have to be.

I found out from 9th grade visitors that two of my students from last year and another I knew well are no longer in high school. My two had a) dropped out (this is the student best known for offering me a condom for pencil collateral last spring) and b) gotten "locked up" for beating the shit out of some smaller kid who was wearing blue. It's a tragedy on both counts, for all the usual reasons. Plus, these were really smart boys. Sixteen is way too young to be making stupid decisions that affect the rest of your life. The third student, who I knew but was not in my class, was expelled for pushing a teacher.

:: Leslie H - 9:30 PM - ::

It's on Matt's blog, but I just had to share it.

Bush's campaign stop (video clip)

It's one of those things that makes me think--maybe it's not an act! Maybe he is just a moron! (And maybe there is one journalist out there with a sense of humor.)

:: Leslie H - 8:20 PM - ::

The New York Times has this very depressing graphic where you can roll your mouse over boxes to see names, pictures, and hometowns of the 1000 dead soldiers in Iraq. It started out vaguely interesting but became moving by number 50 or so. I know people die every day, but recognizing last names, little towns in Texas, the fact that most of the dead are younger than I am--personalizes that loss of life in a way that statistics can't. Probably just because we don't have pictures of the 1.5 million people forced from their homes in Sudan, etc etc, insert other horrible human tragedy here.

I'm sure Dick Cheney (a vote for Kerry is a vote for terrorists) and sinister wonderboys will call it a shameless ploy by the liberal media to politicize the tragic deaths of the soldiers. (And of course the administration would never stoop to playing politics with such a serious issue.) But regardless of political implications, I think it is important to put faces to numbers now and then, as long as we're making the decisions that kill people.

In other news, Bryan loves how Diggable Planets rhymes "macabre" with "job." Right on.

:: Leslie H - 6:09 PM - ::

After trying out a million (by which I mean: 2) chai mixes, I have decided that no mix is going to give me the proper spiciness, so I am determined to brew the tea from Yoga Yoga, which is the best ever. Curious, after that glowing recommendation? -- here's the recipe. This Saturday, I will brew and brew! (As long as the temperature is not in the 90s.)

The Tea from Yoga Yoga

Bring 2 quarts of water to boil in 3-4 quart pot. Add 15 whole cloves and boil for 1 minute. Then add 20 black peppercorns, 3 sticks of cinnamon, 20 green cardamom pods (crush or split pods first,) and 8 or more slices of fresh ginger root (about 1/4" slices; no need to peel.)

Cover and boil gently for at least 30 minutes. (For best flavor, cover tightly and boil over low heat for 2 to 3 hours!) When through boiling, turn off and add 1/2 teaspoon of black tea and let tea cool. Strain the tea. Either use it or store it away. When ready to drink, sweeten to taste with honey or maple syrup. Add soy or dairy milk.

(Anyone know where to get "cardamom pods"?)

:: Leslie H - 10:02 PM - ::

It's difficult to believe that the first day of school was only two weeks ago. Summer was a dream I once had.

Teaching went pretty well today. I've been trying to psychoanalyze myself to figure out why I'm not happier. My classes, with one exception, have been just fine, and I have an extraordinary amount of free time compared to last year--everything is so much easier. But there have been no magical teaching moments, no inspired lesson plans, no ecstatic joy that I keep hearing about from other 2nd-years. And today I realized, too, that I was just waiting scared for whatever beginning-of-school magic to wear off and the kids to turn into the ravening monsters they were last year.

Today made me feel better. Not only did I stay in bed all the way until 7:00 (showering the night before makes all the difference--I was still out the door at 7:15), but my classes had been scheduled so they were down from 40 kids in every period. Plus, I could finally feel confident that the decent behavior was no longer just first-week magic. This, week 3, is the time when the scaffolding gets kicked out from under the discipline system and you see how well it holds once the kids are used to you. What do they think they can get away with?

Not too much, really. A little calling out of the answers without hand-raising. A little too much drinking from the water fountain. A little noise on their way into the classroom before they start their work. But *they're working.* People are doing the assignments, turning them in, and paying relatively close attention. It's like I have a normal class, am a normal teacher--not some miserable imposter. And when I think about it like that, this first part of school becomes immeasurably more satisfying.

I also conquered a demon today. I remember vividly the day last year that things fell totally apart. I had to give my 8th graders the curriculum diagnostic, and they simply refused to take it. They yelled, they threw things, they acted in all important ways like monkeys in a zoo, and woe to the three poor kids who were actually trying to fill out their scantrons with something other than swear words.

Today: the same diagnostic, with the same sample questions about "Garlic: the Wonder Drug" on the front. And the students--they just took it. Quietly, responsibly, with a minimum of bitching, filling out the heading as per my instructions, working quietly on a word find when they finished. I don't need magical teaching moments quite yet--I'll just take a room full of hot* 13-year-olds shutting up and answering reading comprehension questions for 50 minutes.

Things I am amazed I have not heard yet in my classroom:
1) cussing
2) things called "gay"
3) students talking while I'm talking

The new word, apparently, is "cheap." My 5th/6th period class liked to chirp it like angry little birds until I kept the whole class (all 40 of them) in, 1 minute for each time I heard the word "cheap."

Ha ha.

*Yes, it was 97 degrees today in San Jose, and no, the classrooms are not air-conditioned.

:: Leslie H - 7:41 PM - ::

My new experience this week, oddly, had nothing to do with teaching middle school. Rather, at 11:00 this morning, I became the second white person ever (Jenn being the first) to have my eyebrows "threaded" by a pleasant Indian woman who runs a grooming business out of what appeared to be her laundry room. Total cost: $3. I went with friends Jenn and Harini, who teach in East Palo Alto and roused me from bed this morning with a determined series of phone calls. They picked me up, and, after a brief wait watching Hindi commercials in the living room, we proceded to have various quantities of facial hair removed.

Threading is evidently more painful, but more precise and better for the skin than waxing. (I say "evidently" as I have never waxed anything.) As I winced and held my brow in place with opposing hand, she yanked out thin strips of eyebrow with deft twists of strong white thread, and somehow managed to trim the remainder via some mysterious string-related process.



To me, my eyebrows appear disturbingly thin, but Bryan assures me that he can barely tell the difference, which I suppose is comforting. As my eyebrow-maintenance to date has consisted of only intermittent tweezing, I suppose a little shock was in order. And if I'm pleased with the result, I can always go back for my upper lip ($3), chin ($3), or full face ($10), because who needs cheek hair anyway?

:: Leslie H - 1:30 PM - ::

Student quote of the day: "I'd like to be a seagull because they poop on things."

I sent a kid to the office today--my first referral of the year. Not a malicious kid, but all over the place talking, squirming, making random noises. I'd kept him in for detention every day and called his parents Monday. Plus the class needed to see that I'd write referrals if necessary. Jose-bane-of-last-year-who-keeps-visiting-me-now also told me I should send kids to the office if I wanted to seem tough. So yeah. It was a pretty good day with the rest of my class after that. (Not great, but pretty good. I'm ready to have fewer than 40 students in every period.)

My first referral of last year was in first period on the first day, when Lisa cussed me out. Ironically, one of her friends (now one of my students) gave me a note today Lisa wrote me, asking how I was and inviting me to her Quinceanera. The perspective of a year is invaluable.

After staying at school till 6:30 on Monday, I've cut out early every day since. I've been leaving for school at 7:00 every day--with an hour before school plus first period prep, I've been able to get my preparation done in the mornings and be pretty much done by 3:30. The grading, I regret to say, has been getting shoved towards the long weekend. I'm living for that long weekend now. Maybe it was working only three days last week, but I'm having trouble believing that this one isn't over yet. I'm just not used to what they feel like yet. But my endurance for the weeks, the blisters, the standing, the talking all day are increasing. And every single day I've appreciated not having to go to APEX that night. I'll crawl in bed at nine to read after a satisfying afternoon and think, "My god--the poor bastards have an hour yet to go."

I left school smiling. I ran into one of my larger 7th graders in the quad, who explained that he had been kicked out of his after-school program for doing the "wiggles dance"--i.e. lifting up his shirt and jumping up and down to shake his fat rolls. Was it wrong of me to laugh hysterically?

:: Leslie H - 6:14 PM - ::