Ack.
Writing this at school. Hoping to get out of here in t-minus several seconds.
Well: I am nervous. But I LOVE that I am here for year 2 instead of year 1. And you know what--? I am LUCKY to be here, working, doing what I love. I don't take that for granted. As stressful as these moments are, it's so good to remember that this is a big, fat blessing.
I created this Facebook album called "Thank You Notes," and most of the pictures are just pictures I've taken on walks or with friends. Underneath each picture, I've written a "thank you" for what the picture is of, like, "Thank you for ice cream on hot summer days." "Thank you for roses that are perfectly in bloom." "Thank you for slow lazy mornings with my roommate."
I created the album on a whim, but it's influenced my psyche in a really cool way-- every time I take a picture now, I think of what the caption would be if it was in the "Thank You Notes" album.
Tonight, looking around my decorated classroom, I think, "Thank you for my view of the courtyard. Thank you for art on the walls. Thank you for the pictures from my road trip. Thank you for working computers, and for the names on my class lists. Thank you that tomorrow I'll be able to start RECOGNIZING these kids. Thank you for my full file drawers that are packed with the resources I created last year. Thank you for a big class room. Thank you that I get to do what I love."
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Pictures to come later, once the kids contribute to what's on the walls. Right now, I'm savoring the moment for myself. In this harried, frenzied, tired, stressed moment-- there is succulent thanks to savor.
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Aug 31, 2010
Jun 20, 2009
Today, I:
- Greeted tearful ninth and tenth graders on their way into the classroom on the last day of school
- Bore witness to the results of kids tagging the walls-- both with chalk ("Thank you staff") and with spray paint ("Our school will never die!!!")
- Heard about a huge stand-off and apparent law-suit between the steel drum teacher and the principal, over who should get the steel drums; heard also that the steel drum teacher's wife had barricaded herself in the steel drum room, over the protest.
- Saw the police and media show up in response to aforementioned scuffle.
- Heard another teacher admit deviously that she had sneaked thousands of dollars worth of equipment out the back door while the aforementioned poobah ensued.
- Gave Mark his final back and watched him shout out loud, jump up and down, and hug several people, including me.
- Played songs on guitar for my kids while two girls sang along, knowing every word.
- Stopped mid-song to evacuate the building when a kid pulled the fire alarm.
- Watched a documentary crew, who has been following and documenting our school throughout the closure process, interview/film the evacuated students out on the field.
- Waved goodbye to all the buses as they slowly pulled away; realized our school's last day had finally ran out.
- Saw Joshua wearing his new fedora.
- Hugged students, said goodbye to students, and tried to hold back tears as I said MY last so-long to the students I've come to care so much about.
- Went home
- Packed
- Got dinner with my friend Kelsey; went to the airport.
- Got on a red-eye to New York.
- Listened to "Man Down Under" about 60 times on repeat at a cafe (WHY only the one song? WHY?) in JFK during a 2.5 hour layover.
- Got on another plane to Nashville
- Surprised ANNIE: happy Bluebird performance weekend!!! Did you ACTUALLY think I'd miss it??
- Hung out with best friend and her parents all day.
- Shopped at Anthropologie to pick Annie out a Bluebird outfit.
- Saw other fantastic Nashville friends
- Came back to Annie's house
- Blogged
- Went to bed
- Bore witness to the results of kids tagging the walls-- both with chalk ("Thank you staff") and with spray paint ("Our school will never die!!!")
- Heard about a huge stand-off and apparent law-suit between the steel drum teacher and the principal, over who should get the steel drums; heard also that the steel drum teacher's wife had barricaded herself in the steel drum room, over the protest.
- Saw the police and media show up in response to aforementioned scuffle.
- Heard another teacher admit deviously that she had sneaked thousands of dollars worth of equipment out the back door while the aforementioned poobah ensued.
- Gave Mark his final back and watched him shout out loud, jump up and down, and hug several people, including me.
- Played songs on guitar for my kids while two girls sang along, knowing every word.
- Stopped mid-song to evacuate the building when a kid pulled the fire alarm.
- Watched a documentary crew, who has been following and documenting our school throughout the closure process, interview/film the evacuated students out on the field.
- Waved goodbye to all the buses as they slowly pulled away; realized our school's last day had finally ran out.
- Saw Joshua wearing his new fedora.
- Hugged students, said goodbye to students, and tried to hold back tears as I said MY last so-long to the students I've come to care so much about.
- Went home
- Packed
- Got dinner with my friend Kelsey; went to the airport.
- Got on a red-eye to New York.
- Listened to "Man Down Under" about 60 times on repeat at a cafe (WHY only the one song? WHY?) in JFK during a 2.5 hour layover.
- Got on another plane to Nashville
- Surprised ANNIE: happy Bluebird performance weekend!!! Did you ACTUALLY think I'd miss it??
- Hung out with best friend and her parents all day.
- Shopped at Anthropologie to pick Annie out a Bluebird outfit.
- Saw other fantastic Nashville friends
- Came back to Annie's house
- Blogged
- Went to bed
Mar 18, 2009
Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day
Today was awful.
Things just fell apart. I made mistakes. I got criticized. I couldn't respond. I spilled coffee all over myself, and then someone else spilled the remainder on a bunch of papers and got mad at me for leaving the lid off and "letting" it happen.
I cried on my way home, and now I feel like I have a mouth full of thorns that I'm not allowed to spit out.
Days like this make me ache for the last day of school. Pleasepleaseplease hurry up. Just let it be over.
Wishing I could go back here:
I guess that's what summer vacation is for, right?
Things just fell apart. I made mistakes. I got criticized. I couldn't respond. I spilled coffee all over myself, and then someone else spilled the remainder on a bunch of papers and got mad at me for leaving the lid off and "letting" it happen.
I cried on my way home, and now I feel like I have a mouth full of thorns that I'm not allowed to spit out.
Days like this make me ache for the last day of school. Pleasepleaseplease hurry up. Just let it be over.
Wishing I could go back here:
I guess that's what summer vacation is for, right?
Sep 10, 2008
Heroing
First off: I hemmed the pants. I wore them today. They look fabulous.
Second: today in class, we watched a video about Joseph Campbell, discussing his research into mythology and specifically the HERO.
According to my notes (which I dutifully took alongside the students), the markers of a hero's journey are like so:
Hero starts off sort of immature and stupid.
Hero meets some wise person, usually a stranger, sometimes a wise animal, that exposes the necessity to take a JOURNEY. The journey is more often than not a representation of a psychological one. (What is my purpose? What am I looking for? etc.)
---The journey is sometimes voluntary but often INVOLUNTARY
Hero leaves comfort zone and crosses into the threshold of the "unknown."
Hero is tempted.
---If the hero is a HERO, then he resists. If he's a shmuck, he gives in and probably turns into a villain.
--- Consistently in the Hero story: there is no reward without trial.
Hero makes a great sacrifice for the greater good.
---Sometimes there are monsters. Monsters represent FEARS and you have to DEFEAT them.
Hero overcomes, restoring peace within turmoil, and ends the whole thing a whole lot smarter than he started.
I think this is so interesting. Because according to all these old myths, and more recent ones too like The Matrix, Harry Potter, Star Wars, etc.-- a hero is NOT just someone who only ever does the right thing. A hero starts out as kind of a dummy, lives some major life, learns some lessons, and comes out wiser.
Which makes me think that any reasonably reflective person could... in fact... be a hero.
Which is a nice thought.
But: it's also a rankling one, because it makes me think of some people that I would rather just dismiss as the Jar Jar Binks, the Draco Malfoy, or the guy who betrays them all in the Matrix (the one who wanted to eat the steak). But, according to allllllll these stories, a hero is simply boiled down to someone that takes a journey, and is better for it. And that is something that a lot of us go through.
And so now I'm looking at myself, looking inward like at my belly button, and thinking: "Where am I at in the hero journey?" Where did it begin? When was I stupid? When did I start taking a journey? When did I cross the threshold into the unknown? What WAS that unknown? Was it college? Was it when I went to Africa? Was it when I went to Malibu? Was it when I started grad school? Was it... all of the above? Does that mean I've been, in some way clueless, before the commencement of each one? (Yes.) Does that mean I was tempted to take the easy way out, in just about every one? (Yes.) When did I make sacrifices? When did I overcome? What are my MONSTERS that make me always, always want to turn back, and how do I DEFEAT them? When did I get to the high plain of wisdom and understanding, and how long do I get to stay there until I start the whole thing over again?
It's interesting, I think. And I honestly do think it smacks great similarity to every day life. We are ALL just like Luke Skywalker...! Except, no light sabres. Unfortunately.
And maybe this should translate to providing grace more readily to other people. Because, instead of dismissing them and feeling grumbly altogether, I can think, "Oh man, they're just beginning. They're still in the Uncle-Owen-and-Aunt-Beru-on-Tatooine-phase. They haven't even MET Obi-Wan Kenobi yet, let alone learned how to correctly wield a light sabre." Maybe, in those instances, I should just give a patient, condescending nod and say, "May the force find you soon." Haha! Okay, that would be silly. But funny to myself.
BUT: they would probably be just as justified in thinking I was still on Tatooine too. Because. I'm cycling just like everyone else.
Alright, wrapping up. Smattering of thoughts, post a long, hot day at school. But: I did think it was interesting. Where are you in the cycle?
Second: today in class, we watched a video about Joseph Campbell, discussing his research into mythology and specifically the HERO.
According to my notes (which I dutifully took alongside the students), the markers of a hero's journey are like so:
Hero starts off sort of immature and stupid.
Hero meets some wise person, usually a stranger, sometimes a wise animal, that exposes the necessity to take a JOURNEY. The journey is more often than not a representation of a psychological one. (What is my purpose? What am I looking for? etc.)
---The journey is sometimes voluntary but often INVOLUNTARY
Hero leaves comfort zone and crosses into the threshold of the "unknown."
Hero is tempted.
---If the hero is a HERO, then he resists. If he's a shmuck, he gives in and probably turns into a villain.
--- Consistently in the Hero story: there is no reward without trial.
Hero makes a great sacrifice for the greater good.
---Sometimes there are monsters. Monsters represent FEARS and you have to DEFEAT them.
Hero overcomes, restoring peace within turmoil, and ends the whole thing a whole lot smarter than he started.
I think this is so interesting. Because according to all these old myths, and more recent ones too like The Matrix, Harry Potter, Star Wars, etc.-- a hero is NOT just someone who only ever does the right thing. A hero starts out as kind of a dummy, lives some major life, learns some lessons, and comes out wiser.
Which makes me think that any reasonably reflective person could... in fact... be a hero.
Which is a nice thought.
But: it's also a rankling one, because it makes me think of some people that I would rather just dismiss as the Jar Jar Binks, the Draco Malfoy, or the guy who betrays them all in the Matrix (the one who wanted to eat the steak). But, according to allllllll these stories, a hero is simply boiled down to someone that takes a journey, and is better for it. And that is something that a lot of us go through.
And so now I'm looking at myself, looking inward like at my belly button, and thinking: "Where am I at in the hero journey?" Where did it begin? When was I stupid? When did I start taking a journey? When did I cross the threshold into the unknown? What WAS that unknown? Was it college? Was it when I went to Africa? Was it when I went to Malibu? Was it when I started grad school? Was it... all of the above? Does that mean I've been, in some way clueless, before the commencement of each one? (Yes.) Does that mean I was tempted to take the easy way out, in just about every one? (Yes.) When did I make sacrifices? When did I overcome? What are my MONSTERS that make me always, always want to turn back, and how do I DEFEAT them? When did I get to the high plain of wisdom and understanding, and how long do I get to stay there until I start the whole thing over again?
It's interesting, I think. And I honestly do think it smacks great similarity to every day life. We are ALL just like Luke Skywalker...! Except, no light sabres. Unfortunately.
And maybe this should translate to providing grace more readily to other people. Because, instead of dismissing them and feeling grumbly altogether, I can think, "Oh man, they're just beginning. They're still in the Uncle-Owen-and-Aunt-Beru-on-Tatooine-phase. They haven't even MET Obi-Wan Kenobi yet, let alone learned how to correctly wield a light sabre." Maybe, in those instances, I should just give a patient, condescending nod and say, "May the force find you soon." Haha! Okay, that would be silly. But funny to myself.
BUT: they would probably be just as justified in thinking I was still on Tatooine too. Because. I'm cycling just like everyone else.
Alright, wrapping up. Smattering of thoughts, post a long, hot day at school. But: I did think it was interesting. Where are you in the cycle?
Sep 5, 2008
Week One
And sadly, that's the most creative title I can think of at this point. After three days of student teaching-- wow, was it really only three days??-- I am plumb tuckered out.
I'm loving it, so that's a plus-- I'm choosing to equate the feeling with the same fatigue you'd feel after doing some fabulous sporting event, or, I don't know, throwing some incredibly large pot on a pottery wheel. Don't ask me to explain my analogies. The justifications would be paltry at best right now.
Really though-- after the first day, I felt so pumped and excited, I had to go power-walk around Greenlake just to release the excess energy. It was a fairly mundane first day-- name games, a lecture on class expectations, some get-to-know-you busy work... And the kids came in with big attitudes and chips on their shoulders, but still, I LOVED it all. All day long, I was thinking of ideas of what I could do on my first day NEXT year, and I looked at the kids and thought, "You're such punks, and you're figuring out who you are, and you're trying to be big and tough when you're really just young and confused, and I love you!"
Yesterday, I got to teach a mini-lesson on public speaking, using theater techniques I'd learned on projection and articulation. The kids were engaged, and enjoying themselves, and genuinely seemed to be getting into it. 4th period even started clapping for me when I turned the lesson back over to Viola! That made me feel great, and feel good about my progress with the students-- I felt like I was really starting to establish a rapport with them, and that they were already seeing me as a co-teacher, someone to respect and look up to. FABULOUS.
I told that to my University Coordinator when he came to meet with Viola and me today (read: the man who grades me), and he said with a knowing grin, "Well. You're still in the honeymoon period. The kids are generally on their best behavior the first few weeks-- and then they start testing you. They WILL test you."
Sure enough, 5th period today took me through the ringer.
It had been an eventful morning already-- we hadn't done the "Mini-lit" activity this week yet, and Viola decided that it would be a good Friday activity. She asked me if I wanted to teach it, and I eagerly agreed. Teaching almost a whole lesson already? Sure, yes, awesome! Why not? I was ready to bust my chops-- and if I failed, she was there to catch me, right?
I went in guns a blazin'-- but... 2nd period fell a little flat. They didn't seem to "get" the activity, and had trouble getting started when I had them work independently. Viola and I discussed the lesson briefly in between classes, and I changed some things up for 3rd period. Thanks to the modifications, 3rd went way better and I felt proud of myself for recognizing ways to alter a lesson based on indicated needs. "So ready to be a teacher," I thought. "Gold star intern," I thought.
I spent 4th period-- the FUN period (4th period kids rock)-- talking with my University Coordinator who will henceforth be known as MATT. I caught the end of 4th though, and was warmly greeted by some of the students. "Fabulous future teacher," I thought. "Gold star intern," I thought.
And then came 5th.
5th has the cards stacked against it already: it's the last academic class of the day, and the kids come in tired and unfocused. Today is also Friday which doubled the odds, and on top of that, it's just a more challenging group of kids. There's a fair amount in that class who have attention issues, behavior issues, or some combination of both. Early on, one of the kids acted up and Viola took him out in the hall to work by himself, and to give him a "talk." That left me alone with them.
Alone.
No problem. Right? No problem? I walked around as the kids brainstormed evocative words to use in their six-word-phrases, and checked K's paper. When "K" had introduced herself on the first day, she'd followed it up with, "I like to piss teachers off." Earlier in class, when Viola had gone over some of my six-word examples, she'd read the more abstract one: "Barefoot walking and pink cloud climbing." K had snorted and commented, "It sounds like she's high on E." Now, as I approached her and looked over what she'd come up with, I tried to be positive.
"Neon blue... and unicorns. Nice K, sounds like a... happy place. Those are very positive images." She gave me a long hard stare and said, "You were a good kid in high-school, weren't you?"
"Yup," I said. "Why do you ask?"
"You have NO idea what this is talking about."
I looked at her. "I'm choosing to believe you have good intentions K. I can guess what that might be about."
She laughed again and made a comment about me to the other students, then went over to show them her words. "K, I think you'll work better if you're sitting at your desk," I said with a note of desperation, but she ignored me and went back only when Viola came back into the classroom.
Viola noticed. "You look tired!" she said.
I told her in a whisper what had happened, and that it had stressed me out. She marched over to K. "Let me see what you wrote, K." She looked. "Alright, you're coming with me to the office."
"What'd I do?! What'd I DO?!"
... And once more, I was left alone with 5th. The class didn't fall apart, but it also didn't hold itself together very well. At one point, the whole class was talking when a group was getting ready to present, and I called out, "So we've talked about what it means to be a good presenter right? So what are we going to be right now...?" One kid called out, "Good LISTENERS," but that was the only response. Everyone else kept right on talking.
I thought to myself with a panic, "They're not listening to me. They're not respecting me. I'm the stupid intern. I'm the baby-sitter that they don't have to listen to. Crap. CRAP!"
I'm being hard on myself here: most interns don't even touch teaching the first couple weeks, and I would say that my teaching efforts went off ahead of the curve, overall. I wanted to take a big bite, and Viola let me. It was an ice cold splash of reality this afternoon, and I'm guessing that will only intensify as the year progresses.
But, I learned a new acronym today from some of the other new teachers: Q-TIP. Quit Taking It Personally.
In K's case, it turns out she has a miserable home-life-- which is the situation for a lot of these kids, unfortunately. K doesn't do drugs herself, we don't think-- but is around users constantly. She told the nurse that she wants to get a job as soon as she turns 16, just because she wants to be away from home. Her parental support is little to none, and she's doing whatever she can to gain some control of her chaotic life-- including taking it from her teachers. The nurse suggested I approach her with empathy, and understanding-- resisting her bait, and instead aiming for a heart-to-heart.
That's for K, then.
But how about M? How I should handle my intelligent, amicable goth kid with the Nazi obsession and anti-semitic sympathies? How about KV, the sweet Asian kid who suggested in one of his first essays that his mom has recently passed away? What about spazzy A, the hyperactive tiny blond boy, who's clearly intelligent, and clearly undiagnosed? And all the kids who wrote in the "What I hope to achieve" essays that they wanted to get a job to help their mom pay the bills, or that they wanted to get grades higher than D's this year, or that they wanted to help their moms after work so that she wasn't so tired-- with no mention of a dad? How do I approach them?
The kids at my school are not an easy bunch-- they're colorful, and interesting, and troubled, and often very poor. They're full of potential, but surrounded by people telling them that they CAN'T. Their poetry is incredible, yet their focus and study habits are a head-shaking sigh.
And they will be an amazing group to learn from.
A friend told me yesterday that, "There are no bad kids. There are NO bad kids. True, there are some GLF's (goofy little fu**ers), but there are no BAD kids," and I believe her. This year is going to wipe me out, and leave me reeling, but hopefully it will leave me a lot, lot wiser.
And even though I'm suspending any more self-awarded gold stars, I'm cheered by Viola's enthusiastic encouragement of me, and of the fun that I've had already, and the kids themselves-- because they really are cool and quirky, they're such great punks. I'm also cheered by prayer. It felt really good to remember prayer on the drive home, and to just lift up this girl K. Help her with her home stuff God. Help us have a really great conversation at some point. Help her be brave.
So? Anyway. That's the story so far. Based on how I've crashed into bed the last two nights, I'm not sure I'll be able to keep up daily blogging, but I'll continue to keep you posted. :)
I'm loving it, so that's a plus-- I'm choosing to equate the feeling with the same fatigue you'd feel after doing some fabulous sporting event, or, I don't know, throwing some incredibly large pot on a pottery wheel. Don't ask me to explain my analogies. The justifications would be paltry at best right now.
Really though-- after the first day, I felt so pumped and excited, I had to go power-walk around Greenlake just to release the excess energy. It was a fairly mundane first day-- name games, a lecture on class expectations, some get-to-know-you busy work... And the kids came in with big attitudes and chips on their shoulders, but still, I LOVED it all. All day long, I was thinking of ideas of what I could do on my first day NEXT year, and I looked at the kids and thought, "You're such punks, and you're figuring out who you are, and you're trying to be big and tough when you're really just young and confused, and I love you!"
Yesterday, I got to teach a mini-lesson on public speaking, using theater techniques I'd learned on projection and articulation. The kids were engaged, and enjoying themselves, and genuinely seemed to be getting into it. 4th period even started clapping for me when I turned the lesson back over to Viola! That made me feel great, and feel good about my progress with the students-- I felt like I was really starting to establish a rapport with them, and that they were already seeing me as a co-teacher, someone to respect and look up to. FABULOUS.
I told that to my University Coordinator when he came to meet with Viola and me today (read: the man who grades me), and he said with a knowing grin, "Well. You're still in the honeymoon period. The kids are generally on their best behavior the first few weeks-- and then they start testing you. They WILL test you."
Sure enough, 5th period today took me through the ringer.
It had been an eventful morning already-- we hadn't done the "Mini-lit" activity this week yet, and Viola decided that it would be a good Friday activity. She asked me if I wanted to teach it, and I eagerly agreed. Teaching almost a whole lesson already? Sure, yes, awesome! Why not? I was ready to bust my chops-- and if I failed, she was there to catch me, right?
I went in guns a blazin'-- but... 2nd period fell a little flat. They didn't seem to "get" the activity, and had trouble getting started when I had them work independently. Viola and I discussed the lesson briefly in between classes, and I changed some things up for 3rd period. Thanks to the modifications, 3rd went way better and I felt proud of myself for recognizing ways to alter a lesson based on indicated needs. "So ready to be a teacher," I thought. "Gold star intern," I thought.
I spent 4th period-- the FUN period (4th period kids rock)-- talking with my University Coordinator who will henceforth be known as MATT. I caught the end of 4th though, and was warmly greeted by some of the students. "Fabulous future teacher," I thought. "Gold star intern," I thought.
And then came 5th.
5th has the cards stacked against it already: it's the last academic class of the day, and the kids come in tired and unfocused. Today is also Friday which doubled the odds, and on top of that, it's just a more challenging group of kids. There's a fair amount in that class who have attention issues, behavior issues, or some combination of both. Early on, one of the kids acted up and Viola took him out in the hall to work by himself, and to give him a "talk." That left me alone with them.
Alone.
No problem. Right? No problem? I walked around as the kids brainstormed evocative words to use in their six-word-phrases, and checked K's paper. When "K" had introduced herself on the first day, she'd followed it up with, "I like to piss teachers off." Earlier in class, when Viola had gone over some of my six-word examples, she'd read the more abstract one: "Barefoot walking and pink cloud climbing." K had snorted and commented, "It sounds like she's high on E." Now, as I approached her and looked over what she'd come up with, I tried to be positive.
"Neon blue... and unicorns. Nice K, sounds like a... happy place. Those are very positive images." She gave me a long hard stare and said, "You were a good kid in high-school, weren't you?"
"Yup," I said. "Why do you ask?"
"You have NO idea what this is talking about."
I looked at her. "I'm choosing to believe you have good intentions K. I can guess what that might be about."
She laughed again and made a comment about me to the other students, then went over to show them her words. "K, I think you'll work better if you're sitting at your desk," I said with a note of desperation, but she ignored me and went back only when Viola came back into the classroom.
Viola noticed. "You look tired!" she said.
I told her in a whisper what had happened, and that it had stressed me out. She marched over to K. "Let me see what you wrote, K." She looked. "Alright, you're coming with me to the office."
"What'd I do?! What'd I DO?!"
... And once more, I was left alone with 5th. The class didn't fall apart, but it also didn't hold itself together very well. At one point, the whole class was talking when a group was getting ready to present, and I called out, "So we've talked about what it means to be a good presenter right? So what are we going to be right now...?" One kid called out, "Good LISTENERS," but that was the only response. Everyone else kept right on talking.
I thought to myself with a panic, "They're not listening to me. They're not respecting me. I'm the stupid intern. I'm the baby-sitter that they don't have to listen to. Crap. CRAP!"
I'm being hard on myself here: most interns don't even touch teaching the first couple weeks, and I would say that my teaching efforts went off ahead of the curve, overall. I wanted to take a big bite, and Viola let me. It was an ice cold splash of reality this afternoon, and I'm guessing that will only intensify as the year progresses.
But, I learned a new acronym today from some of the other new teachers: Q-TIP. Quit Taking It Personally.
In K's case, it turns out she has a miserable home-life-- which is the situation for a lot of these kids, unfortunately. K doesn't do drugs herself, we don't think-- but is around users constantly. She told the nurse that she wants to get a job as soon as she turns 16, just because she wants to be away from home. Her parental support is little to none, and she's doing whatever she can to gain some control of her chaotic life-- including taking it from her teachers. The nurse suggested I approach her with empathy, and understanding-- resisting her bait, and instead aiming for a heart-to-heart.
That's for K, then.
But how about M? How I should handle my intelligent, amicable goth kid with the Nazi obsession and anti-semitic sympathies? How about KV, the sweet Asian kid who suggested in one of his first essays that his mom has recently passed away? What about spazzy A, the hyperactive tiny blond boy, who's clearly intelligent, and clearly undiagnosed? And all the kids who wrote in the "What I hope to achieve" essays that they wanted to get a job to help their mom pay the bills, or that they wanted to get grades higher than D's this year, or that they wanted to help their moms after work so that she wasn't so tired-- with no mention of a dad? How do I approach them?
The kids at my school are not an easy bunch-- they're colorful, and interesting, and troubled, and often very poor. They're full of potential, but surrounded by people telling them that they CAN'T. Their poetry is incredible, yet their focus and study habits are a head-shaking sigh.
And they will be an amazing group to learn from.
A friend told me yesterday that, "There are no bad kids. There are NO bad kids. True, there are some GLF's (goofy little fu**ers), but there are no BAD kids," and I believe her. This year is going to wipe me out, and leave me reeling, but hopefully it will leave me a lot, lot wiser.
And even though I'm suspending any more self-awarded gold stars, I'm cheered by Viola's enthusiastic encouragement of me, and of the fun that I've had already, and the kids themselves-- because they really are cool and quirky, they're such great punks. I'm also cheered by prayer. It felt really good to remember prayer on the drive home, and to just lift up this girl K. Help her with her home stuff God. Help us have a really great conversation at some point. Help her be brave.
So? Anyway. That's the story so far. Based on how I've crashed into bed the last two nights, I'm not sure I'll be able to keep up daily blogging, but I'll continue to keep you posted. :)
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