It’s the End of the World (But the Beginning of Other Ones)

It’s a humid Tuesday, two days after my seniors have graduated, two days after the Juniors have hooted their way into the upper echelon of high school existence, and a half day before the last of post-session meetings upon which I’ll be finished here. And what now? Instead of packing up and ready to come back fresh for next year, I’m shoving things into cabinets and drawers and stacking piles on bookshelves. My mind is ready to tie up this school year so much so that I’d rather face it next year than reconcile it now.

Being a teacher is odd. My yearly routine is a little skewed. For example, someone asked me recently  if I was voting this year and I got confused. My year begins in August and ends at the beginning of June, which means anything after that counts are next year. And what of July, you ask? The months of June and July are halcyon days meant for planless, restful moments with those I love. Things are a little jumbled in my mind, especially since the rest of the world still marks their calendars numerically. If it were up to me, August would be 2013. But then again, if it were up to me, I’d have a pistachio tree growing outside very office I have, and crocs would be banned. (I don’t really care about the latter point.)

People keep asking me why I’m here. Stuck in the middle of nowhere… single… unattached… in a land full of cows and couples married with children…

My answer? I don’t know. I don’t know. My believe this is where I need to be and what can I say but that I am striving to be content with my lot?

People also keep telling me that things are what they are. “It is what it is,” is how the phrase goes. I hate it. While I do not disagree, I find this resignation frustrating. It’s the equivalent of another phrase I hear often: “Just sayin’.” It’s a useless contribution, and I’ve heard it at least 8 times in the past two weeks. A bit excessive for any phrase, wouldn’t you say? Some odd conspiracy to make me rant about something that doesn’t really matter. Fact is, we are all capable of change, decision-making, and outlook adjusting. Above that, I believe we are capable of saying a better word than, “Eh. Get over it.”

With that said, I am struggling to get over this past year. I need something better than “it was what it was.” I’ve already accepted that whatever happened has happened, in whatever glorious or heinous face it wore. Now, I need a friend, a confidant, a shoulder to lean on. I need someone to lace their fingers together, put my foot in it, and boost me up.

To all the other teachers out there who’ve finished, are finished, or will finish… onward! There is evidence that our work is not in vain… as tempting as it is to question it.

So for now, goodbye most-difficult-school-year-so-far and hello summer!

Good News, Bad News, and Other News

So I have this game I play with people when I want to tell them something. I say, “I have good news and bad news.” It’s a game because I try to get creative. Sometimes I try to turn bad news into good news and v.v.  It works even with the simple things (borrowing a pen.)  Sometimes it doesn’t work out so well. And sometimes it’s funny (sometimes just to me. I don’t care.)

That said, guess what! School is done.

OK, not really. The Seniors still have their finals to take this week, the rest of the school takes their finals Mon-Wed, and then we have graduation prep and grading, post-session teacher meetings, and THEN school is done. So whatever. I’m depressed again.

Back to my story. So I’m taking a “personal day” tomorrow. (WOW! I didn’t even know I could do that until very recently.) I was breaking this news to my morning students and I thought I’d have fun with  my good news/bad news game.

Me: I have some good news and some bad news.
K: We want the good news first.
Me: OK, the good news is that today is the last day of classes. The bad news is that I will not be here tomorrow.
E (the laugher): YAY! Wait, oh… I man, darn! Wait… I’m confused! Am I supposed to be happy or sad?
K: Sad, idiot.
E: No, I’m happy! Happy that Ms.S– gets to have fun. You’re gonna have fun, right?
Me: I don’t know what that is anymore, E.
E: Can I add you on facebook?

That’s as exciting as I can get with my news right now. The reality is that things are barreling towards the end, and I am sad, and happy, and stressed, and confused (like E.) I will take a personal day tomorrow. I will try to enjoy it. And then I will push on through like a madwoman until I can stop and wonder what to do with the fact that I’ll have time to spare.

Even Big Boppa is silent.

Press on!

On Faces, Fractions, and Fractals

I made a mistake today. Said something that probably should have stayed inside. Actually, DEFINITELY should have stayed inside. But it was a setup. And I was distracted. And I had a good enough relationship with the kid that…

OK. There’s no excuse for this sort of behavior.

He was learning systems of equations. Where you graph two lines and see where they intersect. He was asking what 3 divided by 1 was. Kid is a freshman in high school. I’d think they should know what 3 divided by 1 is by now. Or at least that 3 divided by 1 is different from 1 divided by 3. He did recognize that 1 divided by 3 looks like a fraction when written. But then again, so does 3 divided by 1. (I ended up writing 1 over 3 as “frac,” which is short for “fraction.” I’ll leave what I wrote “3 over 1″ short for being a “whole number” as to your imaginations.)

Anyway, he points to a line (drawn in different color pen to highlight the difference from the other line) and he says, “Ms. –, the color of that line is ugly.”

You know what I said?

I said, “Oh really? Yo FACE is ugly.”

I know! I know!

Teachers ought not to say that sort of thing. I did apologize and made sure he knew that I loved him. He told his friends. And they laughed at him. I’m sure if there was a recording, I would be Worst Teacher of the Hour. I’m sure I’ll have to do some sort of teacher penance to make up for this rudeness.

But it was a little funny. And he’s a good kid with whom I’ve worked with for almost 9 months. We’ve had our share of exchanges before.

Anyway, I had a friend in college who was really into fractals. These ever-repeating loops of patterns which is the same without and within. From near and from far.

I’m ruminating on that. The big picture is the same as the little picture. My life seems like a frustrating loop of things right now and I’m having trouble focusing. I’m trying for the big picture, which has always helped, but the big picture and the little picture are fractals and I am stuck in a little loop.

An app on my phone that monitors the safety of the device is reassuring. It always says, “everything is ok.”

Well, my trusty new smartphone (yes! I got one!), everything is not ok. But it will be. And I will once more see the glorious pattern that is not this moment.

In the meantime, back to the beautiful (not ugly) faces of my beautiful (not ugly) students. For those concerned fellow students/teachers/parents of ugly children, I promise to endeavor to undo any damage caused to self-esteem.

On Being Counseled by a Masai Warrior and Other Imaginary Things

Spring break is over. And for the first two days back from break,  Microsoft Outlook has been down in the school. For those of you who use Outlook in a business/school setting, you know that this is the equivalent of, “There is an ice cream truck parked in view of the window for the entirety of the day playing that weasel song,” or “a cute puppy is roaming around the office and has been humping my leg every hour.” In other words, nothing gets done, and there is good permission for it.

OK, that’s not true. I have actually been really bad about checking my work email for the days preceding break, and I think I’m more efficient without email. I’ll still take it as permission not to work.

On top of that, I think I’m sick. I thought it was allergies, which I haven’t had for a while, but it might be a weird cold. The librarian thinks it’s a good thing because, “at least it’ll go away.” Word up, librarian. You know they hold mysterious secrets to the world.

All this to say that I (again) am not thinking clearly. Which is probably why I thought it might be a good idea to blog about my recent conversations with a Masai Warrior (cough-figurine-cough) that my student brought me as  a gift from Africa.

I did, however, have the sense to keep from saying to my College Psych students, “That’s what critical thinking is about. Or, as the English would say it,  that’s what it’s aboot.” It was an exercise in willpower. I know I’m still foggy, because part of me still thinks it’s a good idea.

Anyway, back to the figurine. It’s a kind-looking old man, crouched on a stool as black as he is, holding a long twig that even in terms of proportion, is still twiggy in terms of circumference. He’s wearing this awesome cape that’s made of tree bark and has on a red robe that’s supposed to keep away the lions.

His name is Boppa. (My student named him.)

And I have conversations with him. Our first went like this.

Me: Hi Boppa, I am sad today.
Boppa: (with an accent) Really, chile, tell me.
Me: Why do you have a Jamaican accent?
Boppa: (no more accent) Don’t ask silly questions.
Me: Right. I don’t know why I said I was sad. I’m not really. Today’s a nice day.
Boppa: Do people not love you? Are you feeling unloved?
Me: No! Of course not. People tell me every day that they love me. My kids tell me. Every day. Uninstigated. My family, every time we call.
Boppa: Then why are you talking to a wooden block instead of doing your work?
Me: You’re more to me than a wooden block, Boppa. And I guess it’s because I have trouble believing them.
Boppa: Jamba!
Me: What does that mean?
Boppa: Oh, sorry. I mean, ahoy! You ought to believe that you are loved, even when you are not told. Even when it is not outright. And even when, in your case, it is outright. Otherwise, you get sad. Or fearful. And you know what fear leads to.
Me: Please don’t quote Yoda, Boppa.
Boppa: Alright. But love is more than words. Especially if you don’t believe them.
Me: Point taken. How did you get to be so wise? Can you keep the lions away for now?
Boppa: Yes.
Me: Thank you.

See? It’s official. I’m crazy.

All of you should find your own Masai warriors to talk to. They will keep away your lions.

Even the baby lions can eat you!

How I Keep From Going Insane, and Other Helpful Tips

Every once in a while, I need to take a break-from-work-at-work-day. These instances don’t come around very often, but when they do, I take them very seriously. The last time I thought I could eek it out on fumes, I was surprised I made it through without having a serious physical breakdown.

So for the sake of all others who come after me, here are some not-so-hard-and-fast rules to go by:

Prep work: make a to-do list and stick to it. This is important because on “break-from-work-at-work” days, part of the joys will deviating from it.

Step One) Intentionality.  Wake up and say to yourself, “Self, we are on a break-from-work-at-work-day.” These things should not spring up on you. It should commence as early in the day as possible.
Step Two) Take your to-do list and scrap it. I have a digital to-do list on a google documents spreadsheet. Since it’s a template I use every day that is pretty customized with conditional formatting (I’ve been accused of being a nerd) instead of deleting the whole thing, I just create a slew of empty rows on top. Often it’s just the illusion that matters.
Step Three) Create three easy objectives for the day. Objectives are things that can be checked off. You know when you’re doing it.  It’s important not to go too nuts on this (note my examples below to see what I mean), which is why I suggest only three. Make ‘em count. Also, make ‘em something you can complete before the middle/end of your work day. You shouldn’t have to wait the whole day to complete it, but it shouldn’t be completed before 11am. A “break” doesn’t mean that you do nothing.  You’re just taking a break. Here were my three:

1. Go to the post office. (Totally not school-related, but whatever.)
2. Enjoy the kids.
3. Think about grading revision papers. (Just think about it.)

Step Four) Reward yourself. I completed my three objectives (well before my day was over, but well after lunch) and I took some kids out to get some froyo in the nearby town. They were happy, I was happy (and froyo can make anything better. Anything.) This break lasted for the whole rest of the day until I went to sleep. No guilt. No worries.

With that said, there are some things to consider before taking a break-from-work-at-work-day. If any of these are false, you should not move forward.

C1) Consider if you actually need a break-from-work-at-work-day or if you’re just feeling lazy. If it’s the latter, suck it up.
C2) Consider how much work you have to do. Some days you can’t afford to take break-from-work-at-work-days. Sometimes you’re just under the illusion that you can’t. Learn how to tell the difference.
C3) Consider that you’re still an employee. Break-from-work-at-work-day does not mean you put your feet up on your desk. It’s meant to remind you what your priorities are, and why you are there. For me, it’s my students. I made sure to hang out with them and hear their problems.
C4) If you’re going to feel guilty/anxious/nervous/cranky about it, don’t bother. This is supposed to be a pleasant experience. A day in which you find peace in chaos. Be nice to people. Extra nice. What else will you do with your time? Don’t waste it away on computer games. This is an efficiency boost, not a avoid-work boost. It worked for me since I got 6 inches of papers graded the day after. Legit!

But on a day-to-day basis, there are other things that help me keep well-humored and in positive spirits. For one, I find it helpful to resort to threats. I have a little green spray canister I keep around that I used to use to keep my bonsai tree alive (until it died) and once in a while I threaten to spray kids with it, especially if they are falling asleep in my office. (Again, only with kids I have a relationship with.) Once in a while I’ll tell kids I will mark them absent for the rest of their lives (they have attendance-contingent rewards/punishments embedded within the school system.) Yes, even after they’ve graduated. I can’t follow through on any of these threats, but it’s still fun.

The last helpful tip of the day is to learn how to care about people without reservation. Often we’re afraid of what’ll happen if we invest too much. We count the returns. We calculate the cost/benefit. We try to gauge our success based on the receptivity of others. We love because we are loved, and take it back when it’s not reciprocated.

Put yourself out there. This is the truth, and it will make you free. Loving these kids made me realize that at the end of the day, I get more than I have given.

On Being Asian in the South and How These Kids Give Me More Than They Take

We’re going on 5 and a half weeks without a break and we have one more to go before we can take our Spring leave. Words like “homeleave” and “evening supervision” is reserved for boarding academies where schedules are set by certain external factors that do not take into account the sanity of teachers or students.

It’s an interesting experience being the (now) only Asian teacher in the school. In the South. Where people’s idea of Asian people come largely from movies. Movies like  Kung Fu Panda.

Student: Ms. –, Can I ask you a question? And don’t get mad, ok?
Me: No.
Student: Please?
Me: (bracing myself) Sure.
Student: Can I call you Shifu?
Me: Why in the world would you ask that question?!
Student: I don’t know. Because you’re wise and all….
Me: Sigh. OK, fine.

Nevermind that I’m not Chinese. And that “shifu” is a term that connotates “father” as well as “master” (in terms of martial arts training.) Normally, I might have quipped that he was being racist. Or told him not to be ridiculous. Or ignored it altogether. Today? Today my only priority for the day is to keep sane. Today might be a “play my work playlist in the background” day.

Here are some other questions I get asked (on a good week, once a week):

Student: Why did you decide to come to America?
Me: I was born here. In Brooklyn.
Student: Wow!

Other conversations don’t go as well:

Student: Was it difficult to learn English?
Me: Was it difficult to look at yo face?
Student: What? No, really!
Me: No, it wasn’t difficult. I was born here. Speaking English, Korean, and Spanish.
Student: Wow!

(Those conversations usually happen late in the week, and only with kids I’m really close to.) These conversations aren’t limited to just students.

Colleague: Wow, you speak English very well!
Me: I hope so. I was born in the States.
Colleague: Oh! I’m sorry. You just seem to have an accent.
Me: Or just a weird voice.

On a slightly unrelated note, I love that I was born in the City. It gives me “street creds” which I guess I don’t have anymore. My life history was definitely a unique one, even as one growing up in what would definitely not be called the “good part of town.”

The point is, even as these kids drive me crazy, I totally love them. They give me more than they take.

Student: Guess what, Ms.–! I got my mom to get a whole bag of pistachios for you! I’ve been asking her for a whole month to get the biggest bag in the store!

Sigh. OK. I can make it one more week.

“If You Don’t Stop, I’ll Make More Rules!” And Other Fun Threats That (Kinda Don’t) Work

I’m feeling particularly grumpy today. You know, just one of those days when you walk into school thinking, “Don’t mess with me today!!” I’m pretty sure it’s my sore throat and not the fact that there are dumb hearts  in otherwise professional-looking emails and that today the kids are encouraged to dress like people from an era that smoked pot most of the day. (It’s Spirit Week.) And ok. I haven’t had my morning poop yet. (Sigh. The things I sacrifice in the name of transparency!) All things considered, I thought I could hold it together.

And then I have my first period kids.

So I had to add another kid to my Algebra class. The longer a kid is out of my class, the worse it is because (a) my teaching strategy is significantly different from other teachers so the more he/she misses, the farther off target he/she is and (b) the class dynamic has to shift.

I’ve debated adding C to my class for months. He’s decently sharp so I tried tutoring him outside of his class. The final straw came when my tutor came in and told me that he picked it up fine one day, and then when the question came up again the next day, he acted like he’d never seen it before. The Blank Slate Syndrome, I call it. It’s like the doors of the school have a magnetic strip that wipe out all the memories of the day as they walk out.

I have rules for kids like C. He’s a good kid, but everyone needs boundaries, and he’s no exception. Sometimes these kids just need a life philosophy. Lucky for them, I’m here to help.

Rule #1: No complaining/whining. 

I hate whiners. All this “FIVE WHOLE QUESTIONS?! WHY?” stuff is inefficient and makes people lazy. Just do it. Just take life by the horns.

Rule #2: Answer questions with a “yes” or a “no.”

“Did you do the first question like I asked?” “Yeah, well, the thing is, I thought that…” Just say “yes” or “no.” Efficiency. I don’t want the excuses. In the end, it boils down to one syllable.  This applies to questions that may not be yes/no questions as well. (Me: “C, why were you late to class again?” C: (bewildered) “Yes… I mean, no! I mean…”) This does not always work.

Rule #3: Stick to business.

Distractions are inevitable. Especially since I work with a lot of kids with ADD/ADHD. I try to teach them strategies to manage their distractability. Work for 5 minutes. Let your mind do its thing for 2. Pull it back. Be in control. Work for 5. Slowly increase the time you work.

That’s it so far. I threaten to add more rules every once in a while and he gets a look of fear in his face. It’s easy to intimidate Freshmen. Especially when they think everything is either funny or scary. This it the “relationship building phase” with my first year students. They get away with little, they are on a short leash, and they think I’m too tough, but on the other hand they feel like they can talk to me about stuff and hear rumors that I’m funny and nice.

This is when I start making demands.  When I could get them to do what I want while I stand across the room. When they say things like, “That problem is tough,” and I can respond with, “Your face is tough!” and get away with it. When I can take out my spray bottle that I use for my bonsai tree and threaten to spray them with like they’re cats.

When by the time they’ve been with me for 4 years, I get really sad that they’ll leave me.

As for C in my class today, I already threatened to kick him right back into the other class. He’s normally pretty quiet, but the dynamic in my class is one of comfort and he’s already busting out of his shell.

Pray for me.