Communism is the Answer!

Surprisingly, I'm finding that many of my sophomore students are on the verge of communism. I find this startling, yet a little refreshing at the same time. Startling, for the obvious reason that it's anti-American. Refreshing because, as much I have thought to myself that this generation of teens who practically have everything handed to them on platters (i.e. iPods, PSP, cell phones, DVD portable players, brand name clothing), some of them actually do have this great ambition to actually find equality and justice across social classes. They actually do want to try and help others, but they're so pessimistic (i.e. "what's the point if we're going to die anyway?" or "what's the point if no one listens to teenagers anyway?") that it's detrimental at the same time.

Then again... these are my advanced students. If there's one thing I've learned, and most AP teachers have warned me, is that advanced students are one-sided in all their opinions; never really doing full research. Add arrogance to that--they think they're geniuses just because they're in an honors program--and you have a person who is ready to conquer the world with all the wrong ideas.

Poker Night

Coworkers decided to start a poker night: once a month. Twenty dollar buy-in. I thought that was a bit expensive, but with ten people playing, that was a pretty high pot. I lost; ended up in fifth place. Before leaving, I convinced the crowd for a ten dollar buy-in at the next game.

Discipline Is Not an Emotion

Tonight, some asshole made some comment to me about being cold and unemotional. Coming from him, makes it all the more insulting.

The first time he said it to me was in regards to my teaching. "You have a different connection to students because you don't know what they're going through," he said.

"I realize that students have personal problems that they bring into the classroom. I'm not unsympathetic to their needs. I do talk to them, and adjust assignments if they need it."

"But that's it," he said. "You're just... sheltered."

"Sheltered?" I repeated with disgust.

"You've had a perfect life. You've never experienced something emotionally traumatizing, so you don't connect with students like I do."

"I don't think I need a traumatizing event that has shaken me so emotionally to better connect with students. I can pretty much understand what they're going through when they start ranting to me or crying to me."

The gist of that conversation was that he believed that if I were in tune with my emotions more, I can have better connections with my students. I don't believe in that. I don't believe that a person needs to have an emotionally trying experience to be more understanding of one's own emotions or another person's emotions--or in our case-- to have better understanding of teenage emotions or better relationships with students.

Tonight, this conversation came up again, in regards to actual teaching. I made a constructive criticism about his teaching, which I think can be improved if he works on it. He took it as a personal affront and got defensive about it. He starts to make a comparison between us that I'm a better teacher because I can turn off my emotions. "I'm not emotionally balanced as you, so I can't balance my work. I'm not like you. You have high standards, but we all can't meet that."

I've heard his story before, and I was sympathatic at first, but if he's going to start using that as an excuse for everything that he can't do, I'm not buying it anymore.

"They're not my standards, neither am I holding you to them."

"I am more emotional than you. I can't turn off my emotions like you."

"Don't even go there," I shot back. "It's not about emotional balance; it's about discipline. I choose to stay here and work my ass off. I choose to stay here and organize and pull my shit together so I'm not running around with my head cut off tomorrow morning."

"Again, I'm not like you. You don't understand how the imbalance in my personal life affects my professional work. I don't have that balance that you have because you don't know the emotional things I go through."

We were just arguing two different things at that point.

"No, we're not even going there," I said and waved off the conversation. "It's discipline, not me turning off my emotions."

His argument about an emotional imbalance affecting his work is equivalent to a former student saying that she didn't do her homework because she's black. I really wanted to tell him that his "emotional imbalance" is a lousy excuse for not pulling his own weight because he's been using that excuse for a while already. As they say in the workplace, "Get your shit together."

Teachers and Students Are Just Alien to Each Other

Random thoughts...

I.
Teachers have unique personalities. We have to--in this job, it's almost needed, especially in the English and history departments. Those teachers are just plain freaks; they study people and personalities and society. Compound that with all the learning they have done, you have a genius who is sociable and witty, but still a generation away from their students, therefore, crazy by students' standards.

II.
I played Depeche Mode in class yesterday for background noise while the students worked on posters. One student immediately made a criticism: "I can't work in these conditions. Goth is so depressing and dumb and emo!"

"They're not Goth!" I shot back.

"How many Goths does it take to screw in a light bulb?" he asked. I just narrowed my eyes at him without saying anything. He continued with a fake falsetto, "I don't know. I'll just hit here in the dark and cry. Oh, boohoo!"

"They're not Goth!" I repeated. "They're 80's, and their music was called synth-pop. They're still considered rock now."

"Emo!"

"Oh, yeah... Slayer isn't death metal. It wasn't in my time and it still isn't now!"

Another class argued that Nine Inch Nails was also Goth.

III.
Today, a group of students asked if I could monitor their club because their current advisor had to leave early. They used my room to hold their meeting. Can you guess the club? Anime. I have always hesitated to be associated with the anime club, but now a good majority of students know I like anime. I think they are secretly plotting to overthrow their current advisor because they want me instead-- a knowledgable teacher who knows anime and a bit of Japanese culture. A few said that they saw me at Anime Expo this past summer. I don't want to see my students in my personal time. I'm going to avoid all of them if they make an attempt to say hello to me at next year's Anime Expo.

I Feel So Used...

I hate to say it. I really like my colleagues, but a certain teacher is beginning to annoy me. I shall call this teacher the Tick (gender will not be disclosed).

As a seasoned teacher, I thought that Tick would contribute more to help out new teachers as well as teachers who teach the same curriculum as Tick does. Tick has been coming to me before or after school asking how I teach certain things. I don't mind sharing tips and ideas, but I draw the line at asking for lesson plans. There's a limit to that. I'll give if a new teacher needs something to start on, I'll give if a teacher is really desperate, but I start to become selfish and irked when a teacher is just plain lazy. Tick was so lazy that it asked for worksheets that were found in the same teacher's edition that we were all given at the beginning of the school year. Tick went into my file cabinet looking for worksheets and lessons. Tick went into my teacher bookshelf and took out books that it wanted to borrow. When I'm typing up lessons or ideas, Tick will ask for a copy through email.

Lesson planning is an art. Sure, I've taken lesson plans from other teachers, but I always modify it to fit my style of teaching and edit certain things and focus on certain skills. I make it my own. Every little lesson plan I create is like a little part of who I am. I have never asked for a lesson plan, made a hundred copies of it, and then passed it out to students--out of pure desperation. I always make time to look it over, ponder how I'll teach it, and then modify it how I see fit. Even now, when I look back at the lesson plans I've created as a student-teacher, I can see how much I've grown and developed as a professional teacher.

I never want to look like a fool in front of students who will catch something that I can't explain or an error that I did not do--or Heaven forbid--can't teach a lesson that I did not make or understand. It's not professional. Because I am a professional, I take the time to look at things and plan, even if planning means having to stay five chapters ahead of the students, or having to stay until 9pm, or having to come in on Saturdays to plan accurately and perfectly.

If I put a great amount of labor into my work, I feel used when a teacher just takes my work without thinking of how they'll use it. When I hand off a lesson plan to a teacher, they think it's easy because they don't have to reinvent the wheel. But as a teacher, one should always think about reinventing the wheel to make it better. It's good for the teacher and for the students.

Feeling Great

When I began eating more healthy, I wasn't on a diet. I was just making a conscious decision to change my eating habits because my mother is always pointing out that I eat too much junk food. The salads I've been munching on are great, and I didn't really think that it would affect me that much because I still drink too much soda and munch on other junkie snacks.

The last time I weighed myself, I was at 155 lbs during the summer. I weighed myself yesterday, and I clocked in at 140 lbs. I can't believe I've lost that much! True, my jeans are more loose than before, but it's unbelievable. And even if it's incorrect, it's still an encouraging thought.

Is The Fun Over So Soon?

My afternoon classes have only tortured three students. We haven't seen any more. I think my method for disciplining is working... much to the dismay of my students, who are eager to put freshmen in their places.

With A Little Help From My Students...

To assist a first year teacher, I agreed to take her problem students into my class for a quick 10-min time out session. I warned my afternoon classes that we would be having "guests" every once in a while. They accepted the task I gave them with such glee and pleasure.

I began, "I'm helping out a teacher who has some problem students. She's going to send them here, and I want you to torture him."

The class reacted with an excited, "YEAH!!!!"

Caustic Tongue, my sarcastic student to date--he and I have a jokey yet respectful banter every once in a while--was especially excited. I gave the entire class rules on how I want them to torture the guest.

"I don't want you to insult him," I said. "I want you to make him feel bad. I want you to make him reflect about what he's done and be regretful about it. Stress the importance of school and passing classes because the bottom line is: this student wants to take a vacation by being suspended or detention in another classroom. I want you to make him see that that is not a wise decision."

Another student asked, "Can we mad-dog him? Can we get into his face?"

"No, you can't touch him physically, but you can give him dirty looks. In fact, let's all stare him down when he comes in. No laughing. Let's make him as uncomfortable as possible."

I could already see my students jiggling in their seats with enthusiasm. After setting the guidelines, I continued with my lesson. About fifteen minutes into it, a student poked her head in and asked if it was okay to send the problem student. I answered in the affirmative, and I heard Caustic Tongue add, "Yeah, send that loser in."

I continue with the lesson, and about thirty seconds later, a student walked into the room. He strutted in with that fake limp that all bad boys do, but as soon as he saw all twenty-eight of my students staring him down, I saw his shoulders slump.

"Have a seat," I said and pointed to the front corner desk near my teacher's desk.

The whole class continued to stare and got a good look at him since he sat at the front.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"[Bobohead]," he replied. [Pseudonym for confidentiality.]

I was hoping my students would start asking the questions, but they didn't know how, so I continued, "Why did your teacher throw you out?"

"Because I was... laughing." He kept looking at his two sheets of paper.

"You were only laughing?"

"Someone was making shadow-puppets on the [overhead] light."

"So, you were disrupting your class?" I rephrased.

At this point, some of my students just started shaking their heads in disappointment, while they continued to stare.

He made some more excuses, but I kept repeating, "You were disrupting your class?"

He shrugged it off.

"Do you have any work with you?"

"No," he replied with a little more gusto, like he didn't want to do any.

"Well, while you're in here, you're going to work. If you have paper, you can write a letter of apology to your teacher. You have ten minutes. Start working."

"What if I don't want to?" he threatened.

"Then you are defying a teacher, and I'll send a referral."

"Make him read it out loud, Ms. G," one of mine suggested, and the entire class agreed with nods and murmurs of approval.

His shoulders slumped again and he unfolded the two sheets of paper.

Caustic Tongue chirped, "I'll keep time, Ms. G."

"Thank you," I nodded.

My students finally pulled their stares away so I could continue the lesson. While I conducted class, I noticed Caustic Tongue kept looking over Bobohead's shoulder and reminding him how many minutes he had left. At the five-minute mark, Bobohead turned around and gave a dirty look to Caustic Tongue, like he wanted to start something. Fortunately, my student can hold his own. He towered over Bobohead and warned, "What! You're only in the ninth grade and already you're getting into trouble!"

I only nodded my approval, and Bobohead completely shut up.

My students gently reminded me that the ten minutes were up. So we all turned our attention to our special guest.

"All right," I said, "read your letter to my class."

He stumbled over the words, but his sentences were full of "I'm sorry for this-and that." There was a change in his story: he admitted to making the shadow puppets and confessed to being the cause of disruption. Because he stumbled over some words, my students said, "I didn't hear that. Can you read that part again?"

"Yeah, read that last part again."

With a sigh, Bobohead repeated a section of his letter. The best part was: "Please don't send me here again. The other students only embarrass me." At this, my students smiled with pride.

"Now, Bobohead, I want you to give that letter of apology to your teacher, and I don't want to see you again. If you have to come here again, I'll be the one to send a referral. Caustic Tongue, please escort him back to class and make sure that he gives that to his teacher."

They got up and left. As soon as the door shut, my students laughed. "He almost cried!"

"Did he?" I asked.

"He was sniffling!"

"And he changed his story, did you notice that?" someone else added.

"Yes, he did," I replied.

Thirty seconds later, Caustic Tongue returned and he was laughing his heart out.

"What happened?" I asked.

"He was about ready to cry. He said that he can't get into any more trouble because he's already in trouble with his parents for getting caught smoking weed."

My entire class burst into hysteria.

"He admitted that to you?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes!" he laughed.

"Should we tell administration about that?" another student asked.

"Well, his parents already know, and if he's telling people about it, then I'm sure that means the school already knows also. Good job, class!" I applauded them and they applauded each other.

"This class is so fun," added Caustic Tongue. "I hope that teacher sends another one tomorrow."

As soon as class was over, I went to the nearest Best Buy and bought Depeche Mode's new album. I had no expectations, but I really like the what I hear. My favorite songs so far are "Precious" and "John the Revelator." And of course, David's voice is so edgy-awesome.

My Inner Politician

This past weekend, while attending a party of a dear old friend, I met a fellow blogger, Alfonso. It's nice to meet other people who write blogs; it's like putting a name and face to what is normally just HTML and text. Alfonso likes politics. I normally don't post on politics but that is because I'm not as knowledgable as Alfonso or Derek. If I had any latent politician inside of me, I always felt that I was a Republican. I wouldn't dare mention that in the workplace. The majority of teachers are Democrats. This is why I never explored any political thoughts in depth and repressed any political ideals.

But after talking with Alfonso, and learning about the other parties and political idealogies out there, he says I'm a libertarian, which is an extremity of Republicanism. The only shocking thing about this is: I never thought my politics were very extreme.

Depeche Mode

In anticipation of their new album, Playing the Angel, I recently went on a Depeche Mode binge and bought four of their CDs: Violator, Songs of Faith and Devotion, and Catching Up With Depeche Mode. I'm still waiting for Ultra to be delivered in the next two weeks. I'm reliving my youth as I listen to Violator, but Faith and Devotion is quickly growing on me again. (I can't believe I used to own these albums on tape!) I like David Gahan's voice... haunting rich baritone with a smooth melancholic vibrato.

I can hardly wait until Playing the Angel finally comes out!

Life is Good

I. Career

Teaching students in the advanced courses is so much more different than the students I had last year. Being with students who actually want to learn is so rewarding. I feel I'm accomplishing something every day. They make me feel that I'm productive and that I am doing something right in the world... and all that time before, I was feeling guilty that I was just a bad teacher.

II. Health

Lunch is now consistent. Unlike last year, when I would snack on junk food or skip lunch occasionally, I'm now consistently eating salad. I make it every night before going to bed--leafy Romaine lettuce, red-leaf lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, hard-boiled eggs, mizuna, baby spinach, croutons, corn, Bacos, and Italian dressing. Maybe the croutons, Bacos, and dressing isn't as healthy, but they're still good. I'm feeling healthier. I noticed that I'm a little more active; I'm less tired during the day, and I always feel that little pep... like shots of energy that keep me going hour after hour. If only I had kept to swing dancing, it would complete my new healthy lifestyle.

Only the Money

I've lived in my new place for about two months now. Since then, I've paid two cycles of bills. At each of these times, I've notified credit card companies that my address has changed. Yet I'm getting a third round of bills with my old address still on it.

I don't think those collectors--or whoever opens the bills to take my checks-- ever bother to look for updated information. I mean, how many times do I have to keep writing my "new" address? It's not so new anymore.

Starting Over

Starting a new school year is like starting over. Not many professions are like that, where one can perfect their practice every year and make a conscious decision about it. There's that break between school years where I can pause to think about what I can do to make this year better, more perfect; it's a chance to really hone skills and actually see if I've made progress in being a better teacher.

I can't wait for this year to start. I'm teaching one junior class--and to my relief, no one from that tenth grade hell class from last year is in it. I sure don't want to see those kids again. The other four classes consist of advanced tenth graders... you know, the nerds, the gifted group. Oh, God... they'll actually turn in their homework. Here's to pulling long nights again...

A Waste of Webspace

Given that I blog, I often wonder if any of my students also blog. A fellow teacher pointed me out to www.myspace.com. It's a free site where anyone can sign up for space, just like Blogger.com.

While browsing through MySpace, I've seen that it's become a dumping ground for teenage personals. I've seen a couple of my students on there, but they don't keep a regular blog. The only things they post are their stats and the latest quizzes they've taken.

I would really like to read some teenage blogs, especially from my students. They don't think I'm technology savvy, and oh, how I would love to email the URLs of their personal want ads to their parents. Many of my students answered to the affirmative when asked about drinking, and there's a profuse amount of profanity in their introductions alone. Like a potty mouth is attractive? What is up with this generation?

Wallflower

I went out and tried swing dancing. Although I'm a beginner and it was intimidating to go out on a dance floor with experienced dancers, the best way to learn is to get your feet wet. I spent the majority of the evening sitting and watching other people's foot patterns. I did dance, and I think I did okay. I danced with four older men, but I think they were the best partners. They were patient enough to teach me new things, like in a fatherly way. From what I've seen, a lot of the young men like to dance fast. I'm not ready for that yet.

To sum it up: it was fun.

Artistic Inspiration

I've just realized that this summer was my first official summer vacation--sort of. When I think about the past summer vacations I've had in the past, I was always taking a summer course to catch upon professional development or teaching summer school. Although I had conferences this summer, it didn't dominate 2/3 of my summer.

I actually had a lot of free time this season, so lately, I've been inspired to pursue my artistic and creative whims; hence my swing dancing lessons. Next up... possibly guitar lessons? I'm itching for the school year to start, so I can figure out my schedule of free nights to rendezvous with Apollo.

Work Is Fun

I am attending a conference this week on training teachers how to use their newly district-adopted textbook. If you think your taxes are being wasted on such a training, believe me, we teachers thought it was a waste of our time. But as we trudged through the first day, some of the stuff is really interesting. Since our school is switching textbooks, there's so much supplementary stuff and technology that's integrated with the textbook that it's no wonder why we have to be retrained or introduced to all this material. But I digress...

Many of the teachers are from my district, and about half the class is from my school and from my department. We're livening up the class with inside jokes, snarky remarks directed at each other, and other snide comments to make this conference a bit more jovial. We couldn't stop laughing. This conference is going to be fun if we keep this up all week.

It's moments like these when I realize that I work with a cool bunch of people and that I genuinely like my coworkers.

New Circles

Upon coming home from dance lesson this evening, a strange man called out to me--by name! For some reason, I wasn't too freaked out about it. The residents at the apartment complex I moved into all seem to be quite acquainted with one another. Unlike my former apartment complex, everyone pretty much stuck to themselves; individuals holing themselves up in their individual units. Anyway, this stranger called me out by name and waved hello. I wasn't surprised that he knew my name; word traveled fast that a new tenant moved into the empty apartment, so I waved back without knowing his name.

Right after I had just publised the previous post, there was a knock on my front door. At 9:40pm, I should be freaking out, but I wasn't. In fact, I thought it was all noise that my sister was making because she's still settling into her room. I didn't answer the door right away, but then I heard someone calling out my name again. I opened up the door and found two men at my doorstep, both of them were neighbors, and one of them I had already met. They were inviting me and my sister to go to a bar with them.

Mother never told me to go out with strange men, but I wanted to get to know my neighbors. My sister refused since she had to work early in the morning, but I was game. The three of us went to a local bar, which took me by surprise because I didn't expect to see such a homey pub behind the door of what looked like a hole-in-the-wall dive bar. There were lots of young people my age--again, something I didn't expect from such a neighborhood known for its historic sites and posh restaurants.

My neighbors and I had enlightening and intellectual conversations. One is an English teacher, so we talked about books and our jobs. The other is a writer for the local newspaper, so conversations varied from the mundane to poker. The funniest thing they ever said was their commentary on tattoos on girls' lower backs. They asked my opinion, and I thought they were just a trend; they are so common that it's not a fashionable statement. Then one of the guys said, " They're like a whorebrand. You know how they brand cattle?" Although it was just a humorous remark, both gentlemen find tattoos on that particular spot on women to be a turn-off. And as every young woman passed by with camisoles and low-rise pants, it was depressing for them, yet we'd laugh it off because we'd think of branded cows.

I had a good time with them. It was totally unexpected that I would be socializing with strange men at a late hour and actually having fun. Mr. Reporter, being a poker fanatic, invited me to play poker tomorrow night. I haven't played in a while, so I'm game for that. It's kind of nice to start actually socializing with neighbors again. It feels like I'm rebuilding a new community of my own, adapting to a new niche, like hitting a "jackpot." I like it here.

New Hobby

I've been taking swing dancing lessons. Tonight was the third lesson. I really like it, and it's really fun. But I'm not practicing as much, only when I have lessons. As my instructor says, I should go out dancing socially to start practicing and getting used to other partners so I won't get used to dancing one way. I'm afraid of going out alone. Another girl tried going out dancing and some strange partner wanted to throw her and she threw out her back because she didn't expect it. I don't want that to happen to me. So, a group of us beginners are thinking of going together as a group. Safety and support in numbers...