It's a real fall day out today, a blustery pouring rain end to a miserably busy week.
Miserably busy isn't quite the right term. This week was full of a lot of joy. Never have I seen school spirit such is displayed at Gwynn Park. Everyone, World-of-Warcraft nerd to homecoming queen, took some part in the festivities. Each dress up day, our students went ALL OUT. Each evening, the festivities went on with greater enthusiasm than the day before. Today, we went to the homecoming football game and watched hundreds of students in the band, dance squads, cheer squads, flag squads and whatever else do the thriller dance in unison in front of looming, dark skies. It was electrifying!
But it has been a week without end. Monday: school than grad school. Tuesday: School, Professional Development, gradschool. Wednesday: School, then judging class decorations untill 5. Thursday, school, then judging all of the class night competition mayhem till 10pm. Friday: School, Pep ralley, and finally home to collapse. No sleeping in Saturday: off to Teach For America Professional development, then the football game, and now a few hours of grad school work in a Panera till we go chaperone the dance tonight. Tomorrow, it will be all work catch up again, and monday we're off on another week where I'll be observed by my principal.
One of my roommates is seriously considering quitting Teach For America after a student's mother accused her of racial insults. Now she will have to deal with the school board and other authorities. My other roommate is also at serious burn out stage. We spend too often crying and wondering about what's missing, not sleeping and constantly fretting, without any end in sight. Today at PD they pep talked us and told us we were all in the same boat: It had to be our will power to get us through.
I think I went through my bigger crash a few weeks ago (see: dissillusionment phase) and now I'm just operating in some kind of numb, apathetic state waiting for Thanksgiving. I wrote a letter to myself in June that they gave back to us today. I laughed at the ironic starting paragraph to the letter, written before I had seen ONE SECOND in a classroom or had known one ounce of exhaustion:
..........
Dear Tori,
What have you gotten yourself into? This is not PR- this is not a nonprofit you invest in before March. This is not where you thought you'd be.
The week has been a long one. You feel like you've been here a long time...You know you need to get inspired, but overwhelming you are still the doubts about this choce and the worries about your future. You are wary of glorification and idealism.
At the same time you are impressed with the TFA machine. It is young, passionate, full on conviction. It's well organized, resources abound. Support is huge. This is a corporate culture you could work for.
There's still so much that needs to fall into place. You're moving on with a cautious optimism, hoping the next few weeks will touch the spirit.
You're praying a lot. You're hoping a lot. And you're getting ready to work because you CAN rock this.
Buenas Suerte,
Tori
.....
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
Best poem ever.
It felt appropriate today to haul out one of my favorite poems of all time:
"Sick"
by Shel Silverstein
"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"
Thank goodness for Shel. If you haven't browsed his work in a long time, I say you take a gander. His poems, for me, only improve as I grow older. Shel had a way in understanding big feelings- rip your heart out big feelings- and publishing them in the clever guise of a jaunty rhyme. "Sick," isn't one of his more profound works, but this one below hits home for all us lost college grads trying to figure out how to be grown ups...
God's Wheel by Shel Silverstein
GOD says to me with a kind
of smile, "Hey how would you like
to be God awhile And steer the world?"
"Okay," says I, "I'll give it a try.
Where do I set?
How much do I get?
What time is lunch?
When can I quit?"
"Gimme back that wheel," says GOD.
"I don't think you're quite ready YET."
For more Shel, check it out here: Shelsilverstein.com,
or simply google his name, browse and enjoy.
of smile, "Hey how would you like
to be God awhile And steer the world?"
"Okay," says I, "I'll give it a try.
Where do I set?
How much do I get?
What time is lunch?
When can I quit?"
"Gimme back that wheel," says GOD.
"I don't think you're quite ready YET."
For more Shel, check it out here: Shelsilverstein.com,
or simply google his name, browse and enjoy.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Next Week!
Just got this email...
HOW JEALOUS ARE YOU THAT YOU DON'T GET TO BE PART OF SPIRIT WEEK!?
2010- Red/Black) and the crowning of the 2009 King and Queen
HOW JEALOUS ARE YOU THAT YOU DON'T GET TO BE PART OF SPIRIT WEEK!?
Dear Staff,
Next week is Homecoming Spirit Week. It is a very trying time for teachers. I want to thank you in advance for your patience and support next week.
We have about 10 committees working on each segment of Homecoming "Remember The Time" a tribute to Michael Jackson. We need judges for the "Class Door Decorating" contest, the "Class Wall Decorating" contest and Pep Rally as well as chaperones for "Class Night" and the Homecoming Dance.
The schedule is:
Monday, 10/19 "Man In The Mirror" Twin day
Tuesday, 10/20 "Working Day and Night" Dress in future profession attire
Homecoming Court Pageant 7:00 p.m.
Wednesday, 10/21 "Off The Wall" Dress in mixed-matched clothes
Class Door Decoration judging @ 4:30 p.m.
Thursday, 10/22 "I'll Be There" Dress in Class Colors (2013- Silver/black 2012- Green/black 2011- Blue/black
Class Night 7:00 p.m. (classes compete in relay races, obstacle course, etc)
Friday, 10/23 "P.Y.T" Pride of the Yellow Jacket Tradition Dress in black and gold
Class Wall Judging 7:00 a.m. in the lg.gym
Pep Rally featuring live entertainment , announcement of the winners of the Door contest, Wall contest, Spirit
Week contest, Class Night contest, Pep Rally spirit contest, Homecoming court. The highest total
accumulated points of all events will win the "SPIRIT STICK." The Spirit Stick has been officially removed
from Ms. Briscoe's office and awaiting a new winner. According to Ms. Briscoe, the Class of 2011 will
WIN the Spirit Stick back!!
Saturday, 10/24 Homecoming Football Game 2:00 p.m.
Pre-game show 1:40 p.m.
Homecoming Festival 9:00-noon
Halftime Show - honoring the 40th anniversary of GPHS Homecoming Queen 1969: Judi Mori
Dance 7:00 -11:00 p.m.
Oct. 1-24th "Heal the World" Canned food drive sponsored by P.B.I.S.
If you would like to be a judge for any of the above contests or a chaperone, please let me know.
Sincerely,
Coach Hawkins
Friday, October 9, 2009
Good Hair
Work. Work. Work. It's all I ever seem to write about, because it's all I ever seem to do.
But there are some funny moments. Moments that just a few months ago would have blown my mind, but now just are another day in the life.
I have a confession. Before this summer, I did not know the trials and tribulations that black women went through with their hair. I didn't know that black hair can't really grow long. I literally had no black friends in highschool, or really in college, that explained this to me. When it was revealed that all those braids and curls and really hair of any length at all is FAKE, my mind was blown!
Chris Rock is coming out with a documentary called "Good Hair." When Meredith and I can, we try to get home in time for Oprah. She had Chris on to explain the documentary and to tell America just what black women go through. Wigs, relaxers, braids, weaves, what makes "good hair" and "bad hair," what self esteem issues little black girls go through... white people of course have bad hair days and hair struggles, especially if your hair is curly, but ladies, I tell you, nothing like this!
With this new information in mind, I went to Meredith's classroom for lunch to see one of her students hanging out taking a pair of classroom scissors to her head. I shreiked. "What are you doing!"
The girl just laughed and explained that she was cutting out her weave.
Meredith and I were fascinated. "How long did it take to go in there?" Meredith asked.
"About 4 hours," the girl replied.
"When do you know it's time for it to come out?" we wondered.
"When it's all nasty and I hate it!" The girl thought it was hilarious how rapt we were at this process.
Suddenly, a boy meandered into the classroom, skipping class. "Whatcha doin? Cuttin out all that horse hair?" He teased the girl, clearly flirting.
Snip. She accidentally cut some of her real hair and pouted. "Oh well."
Piles and piles of black human hair, probably once on the head of some poor woman in India, covered a desk. The two of them bantered back and forth about weaves, rows, braids and dreads.
"You gotta understand, we're white, we don't get it!" We clamored as they combed and pulled and unbraided, laughing at us all the while.
Always an adventure. Check out the trailer for the movie and have your mind blown! Good Hair
Peace and love!
But there are some funny moments. Moments that just a few months ago would have blown my mind, but now just are another day in the life.
I have a confession. Before this summer, I did not know the trials and tribulations that black women went through with their hair. I didn't know that black hair can't really grow long. I literally had no black friends in highschool, or really in college, that explained this to me. When it was revealed that all those braids and curls and really hair of any length at all is FAKE, my mind was blown!
Chris Rock is coming out with a documentary called "Good Hair." When Meredith and I can, we try to get home in time for Oprah. She had Chris on to explain the documentary and to tell America just what black women go through. Wigs, relaxers, braids, weaves, what makes "good hair" and "bad hair," what self esteem issues little black girls go through... white people of course have bad hair days and hair struggles, especially if your hair is curly, but ladies, I tell you, nothing like this!
With this new information in mind, I went to Meredith's classroom for lunch to see one of her students hanging out taking a pair of classroom scissors to her head. I shreiked. "What are you doing!"
The girl just laughed and explained that she was cutting out her weave.
Meredith and I were fascinated. "How long did it take to go in there?" Meredith asked.
"About 4 hours," the girl replied.
"When do you know it's time for it to come out?" we wondered.
"When it's all nasty and I hate it!" The girl thought it was hilarious how rapt we were at this process.
Suddenly, a boy meandered into the classroom, skipping class. "Whatcha doin? Cuttin out all that horse hair?" He teased the girl, clearly flirting.
Snip. She accidentally cut some of her real hair and pouted. "Oh well."
Piles and piles of black human hair, probably once on the head of some poor woman in India, covered a desk. The two of them bantered back and forth about weaves, rows, braids and dreads.
"You gotta understand, we're white, we don't get it!" We clamored as they combed and pulled and unbraided, laughing at us all the while.
Always an adventure. Check out the trailer for the movie and have your mind blown! Good Hair
Peace and love!
Friday, October 2, 2009
Disillusionment phase
Last night I fell asleep at 7:30 pm.
Straight up DEAD. On the couch. Before Jeopardy had even started.
What is going on with my life?!?!
Ladies and Gentleman, welcome to the disillusionment stage of a Teach For America teacher. The adrenaline from the first month has worn off. The newness and excitement is over. You know your students' names, you know the layout of the school. Now, you're just part of the grind. But it's a grind that has no end, no break, and no relief in sight till Thanksgiving.
There's always something else to do. Entering grades, going to meetings, lesson planning, grad school, creating tests, taking care of bills, paperwork, paperwork paperwork! I'm working investment banker hours on a teacher salary. They say it's all worth it when you don't have to work for 8 weeks in the summer. They say it's all worth it when you've got a Master's degree and the salary to follow. I hope they're right! But for right now, I'm cranky, tired, and jealous of everyone working a 9-5.
I don't know if it's the hours that are getting to me. I didn't have the same kind of run-down depression when I worked in LA at a similar schedule. I know that the true success stories in life are those who go above and beyond the 9-5. My dad has never known a 40 hour week in his life. Maybe it's the emotional aspect of this job? Everything depends on you, there's nothing else to blame if you have a bad day. Or maybe I'm just another bitter college grad remembering my life a few short months ago as I scan friends' facebook pages.
I know, I know. I have a blessed and perfect life and everything I could ask for. I am reminded of that daily when I witness some of my students' struggles. But when you feel this burned out, you're allowed to write one whiney blog post!
Crankily yours,
Tori
Straight up DEAD. On the couch. Before Jeopardy had even started.
What is going on with my life?!?!
Ladies and Gentleman, welcome to the disillusionment stage of a Teach For America teacher. The adrenaline from the first month has worn off. The newness and excitement is over. You know your students' names, you know the layout of the school. Now, you're just part of the grind. But it's a grind that has no end, no break, and no relief in sight till Thanksgiving.
There's always something else to do. Entering grades, going to meetings, lesson planning, grad school, creating tests, taking care of bills, paperwork, paperwork paperwork! I'm working investment banker hours on a teacher salary. They say it's all worth it when you don't have to work for 8 weeks in the summer. They say it's all worth it when you've got a Master's degree and the salary to follow. I hope they're right! But for right now, I'm cranky, tired, and jealous of everyone working a 9-5.
I don't know if it's the hours that are getting to me. I didn't have the same kind of run-down depression when I worked in LA at a similar schedule. I know that the true success stories in life are those who go above and beyond the 9-5. My dad has never known a 40 hour week in his life. Maybe it's the emotional aspect of this job? Everything depends on you, there's nothing else to blame if you have a bad day. Or maybe I'm just another bitter college grad remembering my life a few short months ago as I scan friends' facebook pages.
I know, I know. I have a blessed and perfect life and everything I could ask for. I am reminded of that daily when I witness some of my students' struggles. But when you feel this burned out, you're allowed to write one whiney blog post!
Crankily yours,
Tori
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