Gnatterings

Spice Girl...

Today, one of my little girls said to me, "Ms. *****, you look like Geri from TV." Not putting together that name from any TV program I know, I said, "Oh yeah? What TV show is she on?" The little girl didn't remember the show exactly, but said she had one of the videos at home. Videos? Who do I look like? Some porn star? Oh no- much better than a porn star...

"Geri is one of the Spice Girls," she said. Wow, I'm hot!

Apparently I Look Like Beavis (or is it Butthead?)...

One day when I wasn't feeling too swell (read "hung-over"), my students felt it in their hearts to write me get well cards. I posted some, but forgot about my "favorite."

One student thinks this is what I would look like throwing up...Funny enough, the throw-up is interactive (can be pulled in and out of the mouth)...Quite a creative student I must say!

My Mom...

I am very close with my mom. In a lot of ways, I refer to her as a good friend rather than just a parent. In the last 5 or so years I have really seen her "grow up" and become a more empowered, enabled, woman of today. I am proud of my mom and I love her dearly.

As we've gotten closer over the years, she has confided in me more and more as a friend rather than a daughter. A lot of these confidential conversations had to do with her feelings towards my father (they are still [happily?] married after 32 years). I have always been happy to listen and offer advise regarding my mom's newfound attitude toward my father. I feel I can understand her better because I grew up with the patriarch and have seen this "side" of him for years (not as long as my sister, but long enough).

I moved back in with my folks in 2001 when I started my teaching career. I lived with them up until my move to NYC in June 2003. During those two years the friendship between mother and daughter burgeoned. We would go out to dinner regularly and we worked together so we saw each other all the time during the long school days. When I decided to move, I had feelings of guilt, like I shouldn't move, because I would be leaving her alone to deal with my father and all the shit in that house I grew up in. The feelings were so strong I actually debated against the move just to "protect" and help my mom. My sister and my sweetheart, along with other close friends, made me realize I had to start living for ME and I couldn't be the protector for my mom any longer. She's an adult for Christ's sakes and could deal with the shit by her self (as she had for more years than I've been alive).

I knew when I left the transition would be harder for my mom. I was living in their house and was always around to chat with and hang out with. When I moved, I would be off on an exciting adventure- a new chapter in my life- and my mom would still be in the same place dealing with the same shit day in and day out. The day I left was very hard for both of us. We hugged and cried and sobbed some more as I got into my car to drive off toward my new life. The distance hasn't caught up with me as we talk all the time on the phone and still chat like we did at home. I thought things were going well for both of us- the distance didn't seem to affect us.

Tonight though I called and as we were chatting my dad got on the phone and said, "I don't want what happened last time you two spoke to happen again." What the hell happened last time we spoke? Mom? What happened? She couldn't remember either. Then my dad said, "When your mom got off the phone with you last time, she hung up and started crying." Even now I get tears in my eyes recalling this conversation. So, I guess my mom is trying to stay strong while on the phone with me so I don't get those feelings of guilt again. I just wish she didn't have to fake being strong. I know she wants me to be happy. I know she sees how happy I am here, but I also know she misses me. Now, for the first time in 5 months of living in my new home, I am a little "homesick".

More Student Pictures...

I get roughly 20 pictures and letters from my students a day. These are some of the funny/cute ones! Enjoy...

Parent Conferences...

Today was a half day for the students. Report cards went home yesterday and today was the parent conference day. I had 12 conferences between 1-3pm and I had 11 conferences between 6-8:30pm. Interesting hours to keep for a teacher (and god, I'm tired).

I feel the day was very successful because of the high turn-out. Only 4 student's parents didn't show up. Because of the large number of non-English speaking families, I told the students they should come translate or have the parents bring someone they know and trust to translate. I only needed to search for one translator all day. Very impressed as only 5 of the 23 conferences were conducted only in English. I also made some bold statements and suggestions and they all seemed very well-taken.

First, my special needs student. His sister translated for his mom. She had no questions regarding the report card (even though all marks show him failing). I brought up getting him in an all day special education class and she seemed to agree with me. So, tomorrow I will start busting my ass to make this happen.

Second, I have two students who only speak Spanish. I have been pushing for them to get into the bilingual program, as they are not reaching their full potential in my classroom. Student 1 is being moved tomorrow. Apparently when she moved from Ecuador last year she was in bilingual at another school. When she came to 94 this year, her parents requested bilingual but she wasn't placed because of the already large numbers in the one third grade bilingual class. Today was the day I could really communicate with the parents with the help of a wonderful translator. Tomorrow will be the day she starts feeling successful at school! Hooray! Student 2 was more difficult (emotional as well). Her parents don't speak English and I found a translator to help. She was in bilingual in Kindergarten but then removed in 1st grade to an English speaking classroom. She barely passed first grade and was again put in monolingual for second grade (they do not like to retain here with such large enrollment- No Child Left Behind my ass). This little one was so scared of her second grade teacher, she developed an ulcer due to the stress. Because of the language barrier, her parents never knew how to remedy the situation at school. We went around and around about possibly getting her placed in a bilingual or even a dual language classroom. That's when the little one started to cry. She liked me and liked coming to school in MY classroom. Therefore, the parents decided they would rather her stay in my room and be happy (even if she's struggling), than to go to another teacher that may be "stressful" to her health. That's one of the strangest compliments I've ever gotten as an educator.

Third, I finally got to meet my little angel's parents. On the first day of school there was one boy who really caught my eye as being a true dream student. He was quiet, yet participated, involved and eager, and really, just a delightful boy. Tonight was the night I got to tell his mother what a great boy he is and how well he's doing in school. Now that's a way to end a long day!

All this excitement and it's only the 48th day of the school year! Ahhh, tomorrow is yet another day..........

New Day...New Link...

I came home today upset. I had a heart to heart with my students about the documentary I watched Saturday. I basically told the kids I needed to be me...a teacher that cares and wants to teach. The kids seemed very receptive to the idea (though their attention span lasted about 30 minutes). I tried to tell myself "I can do this. I can be a GOOD TEACHER to these kids" all day long. For the most part it worked (at least on the majority of my students). I still have that one kid who rolls his eyes at me and the one kid who calls me names all day (my personal favorite is "Dogbreath" considering my classroom theme is Dalmatians). But I think for the kids that understood my words and saw the emotion I put into the discussion, they will be there to learn.

I finally got some follow-up on my special needs students who was at the Child Protective Service Offices at the beginning of the month. I had a memo in my school mailbox Friday from a psychiatrist who wanted to discuss this child as she was appointed to see him. I called today and spoke with her about two hours ago. I am sad...sad for the conditions in which this little boy lives. He has a "nuclear family"- mom and dad, brother and sister who all live together. The parents are immigrants. They are illiterate in all languages. I found out the psychiatrist is the one who called the State regarding possible child abuse a few weeks ago. This is the 6th accusation made against this family regarding my little student in the last 24 months. Something is going on. I have taken child abuse classes (how to identify and report such cases) as mandated by every state I've been certified to teach in. I take these classes or workshops and ever think this applies to me. I think there is no way I'll ever get that ONE child who is abused. Now I think I have one, if not a handful in my class this year. So, now I am on a mission. A mission to better this student's life. The state will not take him out of his house because there are never any "conclusive findings" and there is no where to place him if they did (Brooklyn is the 5th largest city in the country and it's just 1 of the 5 boroughs that make up NYC). My goal is to help this boy get into a special education program that will help him learn to read and write. A program where the educators are trained in the needs of this child. A program that has smaller class sizes to give this student the attention he needs to help him become a functioning citizen in our world. I am scared to bring this up to the parents. What if he is abused? What if the reason he is singled out is because of how "slow" and "uncooperative" he is? Will I make it worse? God, this is a fucking hard job.

So after a draining day and an emotional evening, I checked my blog. I found a link that "chiseller" sent and checked it out. The title sounds horrible, but god, there are so many stories and situations I can identify with as a general education teacher. Check out the link and read what these special education teachers are doing in their day to day world! (By the way, this is just a link...Not that I condone this specific "name calling" and "labeling", but the blog is all about free speech and the willingness to "put" yourself out there for others to respond. Right?)

And...my best friend joins us in the Bloggersphere...Welcome!

Teaching IS a true calling...

I just watched a documentary called The First Year. I am moved to tears actually because I watched real stories with real teachers and real kids.

America's Real Heroes

As our politicians and the press argue the merits of countless school reforms, it is our teachers who enter the classroom every day and fight the real fight: educating our children, one child at a time. The First Year shows the human side of this story: the determination and commitment of five novice teachers as they struggle to survive their first year in America's toughest schools. The First Year unflinchingly sheds light on the issues facing public schools in Los Angeles - and the nation as a whole. We see what happens when the system fails to serve, when families fail to support, and what the teachers must do when their idealism isn't enough. Intense and emotional, The First Year cuts through the rhetoric of the national debate about education to remind us what is real: the powerful relationship between a teacher and a student.


I saw myself in so many of these teacher's eyes and minds. I also saw so many of my students in the ones filmed. I have similar behavior problems. I have similar speech and learning difficulties. I have similar student expectations on what their lives will be like in the future because of what their parents do now (mostly immigrants who work cheap labor). I have a few possible abuse/neglect situations. I have exactly what these teachers brought into the "real" world with a movie.

Now I feel motivated to connect again and stop being so damn hard on myself and the kids. Each day is different...in their lives and my own. I need to remember the circumstances in which these kids live day to day and work (teach) from there. I DO NOT want to become one of those teachers who are so hardened by the job. I feel I am the hardest I've ever been on these students. I am warm and fuzzy by nature with kids. I need to remain consistent in my goal- to teach these kids to grow up to be independent, thoughtful, gracious, successful, well-rounded human beings.

Day in the Life....

Some funny pictures from my students. Everyday I receive tons of cards and love notes from various students. They present them to me first thing in the morning, after lunch, or just leave them on my desk. One student has even been making me books (little mini books about the students being vampires and messy classrooms) which I love. I have even started a folder at home for the most memorable ones.

I had to be persistent while following up on my little special needs child whose sister told me they were at the Child Protective Services Offices last week. Finally, after writing a detailed description of what the sister told me and my own observations did I get some response (never hurts to "CC" the principal either). The guidance counselor at school told me yesterday that he spoke with the family and yes, there was an accusation and the family had to appear before their social worker. Apparently this isn't the first accusation because they've had a social worker assigned to their family for 3 or so years now. I have a feeling it has to do with my student. His older sister and younger brother are "fine" but he's the one with the special needs. I received a memo from a state appointed psychiatrist today to follow up on my students' psychosis. Wow...Poor kid. 8 years old and already dealing with life's shit.

I walked my students down to the basement for lunch today and, as I was leaving the cafeteria, a little girl said to me, "Yo! Hold up." She wanted to give me a hug before I left. Sweet gesture...Wrong choice of words.

I have a student that tells me exactly what he does when he goes to the bathroom every day. It's about 15-30 minutes after lunch (when the majority of the class farts and then needs to run to the bathroom). This little guy will return to class with the bathroom report. "I did number 1 before I did number 2." "I did number 1 and number 2 at the same time." Sometimes it's just "I did number 1 but I farted a lot." I guess I'm thankful he doesn't come back and use words like piss, peed, crap, and shit. For you who make fun of my juvenile talk regarding bathroom use, now you know why I say what I say!

Many students say "I love you" to me which isn't unusual for this age group. However, when the kids tell me they wish I was their mom, I get a little concerned.

At the end of the day, when I walk my students downstairs to dismiss them, I stop them in the stairwell and we do the "3 H's". The "3 H's" means the students can give me a hug, a high five, or a handshake as they leave me for the day. The girls seem to hug me the most, though I do have some boys that are sweeties and love to squeeze too. I have the silly guys with their "Later Dude" as they leave with a high five. I have had some students who try to give me a kiss on the cheek though...Now I just don't bend to their level.

Thank god it's almost Friday...

After Em's visit to my classroom last holiday season, she wrote:

I just helped out with the second grade holiday party-- everyone's bouncing off the walls because it's the day before holiday-break and they're all hopped-up on sugar. It was quite an experience-- the kids really are like a wild pack of animals (but I confess that I really groove on being out of my element, so to speak, and wow am I NOT one of these people who are naturally inclined to hang out with little people).

Today, my students were little monsters- wild animals if you will....hopefully tomorrow will end my week off right.

Random TV Experience...

There was no school Tuesday, so Monday night I stayed up later than usual watching horribly addictive MTV (where are the videos? Why is the "newlyweds" so funny to me?). There's a show called Punk'd where celebrities play pranks on one another (like Hidden Camera but with more star power and more money). As I was watching the prank unfold, I saw one of the "players" who looked so familiar. I couldn't quite figure it out, until the very end when I saw the credits roll. This new TV "star" on Punk'd is the guy that gave us an Eco-Tour in Coldwater Canyon Park (Los Angeles, California)) last year on one of my class field trips. Small world, right?

When I took my second grade class there last May, our tour guide told the kids about his life growing up in Brooklyn, New York. Upon hearing Brooklyn, all of my students told him their teacher (me) was moving there that summer. "Small world" we thought. After the tour, he and I sat down together for lunch and talked NYC. He was a stand-up comic that moved to LA to start a career (NYC was good for him, but he needed a better climate). He was doing stand-up at local clubs in LA and working for TreePeople to pay the bills (and they only required a couple of hours of work a day). Crazy, right?

Is it wrong I want to get married?

When I was a kid, I thought of my wedding as a glorious, traditional affair. In college, I moved from traditional to outdoor, nondenominational, but with all the glitz and glamour. Now...I just want to get married. City Hall would do...It's a desire so deep in me I am constantly thinking, "Will T do it soon?" I feel as though I am constantly talking about it and almost pressuring him into it. I know this is a common goal for both of us and we've talked about it- in the future anyway, but for some reason since I moved to NYC with him, I am "needing" it more.

What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe it's seeing my best friends get married and hearing my ex got married. Maybe it's my vulnerable side coming out. Maybe...maybe...maybe...Geesh, poor T!

THE GOOD...

A friend of mine sent this "comment" privately to my email address. I had to share it because it makes me feel good (sorry SRS for the publicity and "cutting")...

Nat-

It makes me so sad to read your thoughts... I've known you before, during and after many painful relationships in your life and I can honestly say you are the strongest, most enabled woman I know! You haven't let these experiences make you bitter - instead you've become a better friend to me and a better companion to T! You're one of the most down to Earth, witty, caring people I know! The way I see it, these people will always hold a tiny place in your heart, and you'll never get it back. Thoughts of them will always be painful.. But I think it's okay to be sad, even years later. (And if it's not, don't tell me, b/c I've fooled myself into believing it is! haha) At the very least, I know that their lives are less without you in it, and one day, they'll realize that too. (if they already haven't!)


...THE BAD...

I have report cards due to the Assistant Principal on Wednesday. Bad enough I have 27 students, but of those kids, I have 13 Spanish report cards and 8 Chinese report cards to complete. It's hard to look at the English version and then transfer the information over...So time consuming. Tomorrow will be a bad day off in my opinion (no offense to all the Veterans out there).

...AND THE UGLY...

My special needs student was absent for a day of school last week. This is highly unusual, as he is never absent (I am free child care you know). He came to school the next day with a horrendous haircut (buzzed, but not at all even- bald spots here and there, forgotten hairs all up top- really ugly). Basically it looked like someone was fucked up when they decided to cut this kid's hair. His older sister came in to tell me they weren't in school because they had to be somewhere in downtown Brooklyn for the day. She could've left it at that, but, with tears in her eyes, and a shaky voice, she told me they were at the CPS offices. Yes, Child Protective Services offices. I asked her if everything was OK and she just shrugged her little shoulders. I made sure she knew if she ever needed help or someone to talk to, I was always there for her. Talk about an ugly situation...I still don't know details either.

My Past Haunts Me...

Today I received two very interesting emails from people I haven't heard from in ages. Both I was very close to, and both broke my heart in one way or another. Reading these emails I am reminded of my past and how far I have come since then. I have never felt stronger or more empowered in my life, yet two fucking emails can bring that all crumbling down.

First email was from a girl I was best friends with through college up until March 2001. She and I were so close we even called each other's parents Mom and Dad. We shared dreams and goals, and had a perfect friendship- a sistership. Then, one day she met a guy and broke contact with me. When I tried to discuss the matter with her, she basically told me she didn't like me, hadn't liked me for a while, and didn't want to be friends with me anymore. At the age of 25 I didn't realize girls did this anymore- I was wrong. I have not spoken to her since. I think of her all the time, and compare her break-up with me similar to losing a love in my life. I have never been more devastated- even losing a boyfriend was never that hard. Today she emailed a group of us that were friends in college to see if we were available for a "reunion" during the holidays. Makes my stomach churn...

The second email was from a guy I dated while living in Seattle. Although no one in my family approved of/liked him (military boy, little personality, non committal, etc.), I still fell in love with him and tried to maintain a relationship even though he was shipped off to Kentucky and then to Texas. For almost two years I hung on to the notion I would be with this guy(even though I knew that's not what I really wanted- talk about codependent behavior), and then we finally broke up. Actually, we broke up right around this time 2000. I was heart broken, but knew it was for the best. We still email occasionally and talk on the phone about once a year just to catch up. I had heard someone from Fort Hood (Texas) was killed last week in Baghdad, and emailed to see if he was alright. He responded today. Yes, he's alright, he has gotten married, and is expecting his first child in February. What the fuck? I am so happy for him, but at the same time ask myself that question I hate, "Why wasn't it me?" I ask that question with the love of my life sleeping in the next room and knowing full well, army boy and I wouldn't work out. I have never been more in love and I know T and I are made to be "co-pilots" through life together, yet I still feel a little weirded out by the whole thing.

This is what tears me up...Where has that confidence gone? Why do I now feel am I no longer strong and empowered in my life? Why am I still so effected by those people who were once a part of my life, but aren't any more? Is this normal?

Dictionaries...

While teaching in CA, the school adopted brand new college dictionaries for the 3-5 grades to use in the classroom. The teachers found the school dictionaries they had weren't up to snuff for their "exceptional" learners- they wanted sophisticated higher level reference materials. Sounds great! The first day they had the students do an activity in the dictionaries, a third grader found all the cuss words and decided to show them to the rest of the class. Therefore, at the staff meeting later that day, the Principal walked in the room, reading a piece of paper, and saying "Fuck, Fuck off, Fuck you, Fucker, Mother fucker" etc. These are the sophisticated words this 9 year old found. Money well spent!

In my class, I have the standard First Dictionaries (along with some picture dictionaries for my ESL kids). Last week, one of my little girls came to me and said she found a bad word. Knowing how basic these dictionaries are, I knew there was a misunderstanding and asked what the word started with. "D" she replied. A bad word that starts with "D"? Damn? So I asked for her to find the word and show it to me. She proceeded to turn to page and pointed to "Dickey". Yes, my little student thought a dickey was another way to say dick (private parts as she told me). Now tell me third graders don't know what that word means!

Attention New Parents...

Again with the UTNE (my magazine reading is sporadic to say the least)...This month's issue is "What Kids Need: Fresh Ideas for Growing the Next Generation." Although I'm not a parent, I am around kids every day through teaching elementary school and know many new parents (or soon to be parents) and have found the articles extremely interesting. I have read "The Art of Imperfect Parenting," soulful parenting tips, punk and alternative music made for kids (DeSoto Records, Music for Little People, and Chicago's Bloodshot Records), and radical parenting movements (like TCS). There was also a list of zines about motherhood (authored by riot mamas).
I have checked most out and found them extremely interesting and entertaining (and I'm not even a mom, let alone a "riot mama"). Here are some of the titles listed:
The East Village Inky, Esperanza, Hip Mama, The Future Generation, Fertile Ground, The Edgy-catin' Mama, Red Diaper Baby, and Placenta Zine.

Comment Page...

As a new blogger I have followed Em's instructions to help modify by page to make it better (reader friendly). It has been brought to my attention though that the comment page is difficult to read. Any suggestions? What would work better? Help!

Louise...

Thursday night, T and I hit the pet store for a new pet.

Welcome Louise to your new home!

She's still getting used to us as her new owners, but since she is a baby, I figure by the end of the week she'll be a sweet little pet (at least for the next year or so).

Teaching Brooklyn Style....

I have had maybe the best day of teaching this year...41 school days and I think I may have finally "won" over my students.

I teach in Sunset Park, Brooklyn at PS 94. When I decided I should move out east, I looked into school in District 15 (now Region 8) because the schools all seemed to be in decent neighborhoods and close to where we were moving. I only sent out 10 resumes and had 4 interviews. Out of those four interviews, I was offered two teaching positions. I chose to go with my first interview at 94 because the principal really sold the school to me (and he loved the fact I was coming from CA).

School started for me in August. I had to lug about 50 boxes of books up four flights of stairs to my corner room. No elevator in this 100 year old building (and no air conditioning above the second floor). Not a fun day of moving in NYC during a muggy August day. The kids started school on September 8 and that's when things changed for me as an educator.

I am the only white person in my classroom. I have 27 students (17 boys and 10 girls) from all walks of life. I have 1 special needs student and 11 ESL students. I have two students that just moved to America (one from Ecuador and one from Yemen) so their experience with the English language is limited to say the least. Most of the parents don't speak English which means I have very little contact with them other than scheduled parent/teacher conference dates. When I do have contact, I need a translator (usually the students jump in) to help me communicate. Needless to say it was VERY different from Lang Ranch in Thousand Oaks, California.

For the most part, this year has been frustrating. The instructional style we are to teach is based on a workshop model that I found hard to teach. In theory I think the program is top notch, but putting it into practical use is hard with so many kids "left behind" in reading levels and second language acquisition. With 27 students there is only so much one-on-one I can do when I have students that don't know what the hell to do because they can't understand me when I teach the lessons. I have actually pulled other bilingual teachers into my room to help me- I guess this is telling me I need to go back to school to brush up on my Spanish speaking skills.

I haven't been happy. Not miserable, just not enjoying my profession. In the first week of school I was disenchanted with my job and actually started to doubt myself as an educator. I have been told I am a natural teacher to kids, but I wasn't feeling it. I felt like Hitler dictating directions, raising my voice to get the attention of my students, and almost breaking down into tears some days not knowing what the hell I could do anymore.

I am known as the "nice" teacher because I smile. Isn't that just wrong? Half the time I smile because if I don't, I'll go nuts! My Assistant Principal tells the kids they are lucky to have such a nice teacher who cares so much about them. The ESL teacher tells me I'm her favorite new teacher because I am flexible and willing to spend extra time with my ESL students. Another Assistant Principal calls me "sunshine" because I always seem like I'm in a good mood. The Reading Specialist tells me I am a "saint" and I am doing such a good job with these kids- that I may be their only saving grace in years to come. The Math Specialist thinks I'm a "natural". If only I can see all this from the kid's viewpoint.

I don't want to speak too quickly, because tomorrow is another day, but I think I am finding the "groove" with these kids. I have most students writing me love notes at school every day. They give me hugs and tell me they love me- that I'm the nicest teacher they've ever had. Some tell me they wish I was their mom (god, how fucking sad is that?) Those sweetie students are starting to get the "bad seeds" in check during class and start telling them "you're just wasting our time" when they goof off and don't listen. Can this be a change that will last all year? Keep your fingers crossed (I know I am).

I think I figured out how to link to my pictures...

NYC Marathon 2003

Maine

NYC News...

Poor Bloomberg...He declined to recognize a valid petition for class size reduction on the ballots this year in favor of his own project....

It also took private donations to keep the historic bridges lit...

What the fuck?

New Yorkers

Many people believe New Yorkers are notoriously rude. When I started traveling here regularly (long distance love affair) last year, people warned me about how rude New Yorkers are- all New Yorkers. My dad reiterated this claim that New Yorkers are rude, pushy, have horrible accents, and are the money grubbing (read Jews) selfish people of America.

I have yet to really find one rude person. Yes, there are assholes- in a city of 8 million people you are bound to find a couple. Yes, people are in hurries to get to where they need to be- there is an awful lot of mass transit and walking going on in this busy city. Yes, people have accents- I'm the one who sounds like an outsider coming from CA. Yes, there are Jews- historic communities of people who work together, live together, and support each other because of their religion and background. What the fuck is wrong with that?

Examples:

Every office in NYC seems to have security at the entrance to check ID upon entering (my school even does). Last night I had an informal meeting at the UFT offices to go over my rights as a NYC Teacher. I entered the building and approached the security officer with my ID ready and informed him of the location I was headed. As he handed me back my Union ID, he said "Welcome Home- you are a part of the family now." Tell me, how is that rude?

T and I were up on 7th Ave in Park Slope (Brooklyn) today getting our renter's insurance and I noticed a boutique selling hosiery. I must admit, I love my socks (and I need some tights for the cold weather approaching). I went in and looked around (and even found cotton tights- they are VERY hard to find, everything is nylon and lycra these days). The owners of the shop were helpful and talkative. I told them I needed some warm socks to stock up for the winter. A conversation ensued about the differences between California and New York. As I left the shop, they both said good-bye, but instead of saying the usual "Come back again soon," they said "Welcome to New York! We hope you are happy here!" How is this hurried and mean?

I go to a corner store every day for a sandwich or soda for lunch. I work in a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood (Sunset Park) where few people speak English. I order the same thing every time I'm there and the old man who runs the place knows me now and just smiles and makes my sandwich without a word (sometimes he'll even make it on a larger roll if it's more fresh than my usual- and still charge me the same price). The man speaks limited English, but every day he says "Have a good day. See you tomorrow." On Fridays he will even throw in a "Have a good weekend. See you Monday." This impresses me and keeps me coming back. Yes, there is a language barrier, but he makes the effort (more than I do I have to admit). Where is the nasty city behavior?

People at school call me "Sunshine" because of my cheery disposition (funny, right?). I guess that also helps me get along with all these "horrible" New Yorkers. I apologize for the lame rant, but I LOVE NYC!

Getting to know my Teacher's Union...

Here is an article talking about our rally on City Hall last month.

Check these pictures out!

My students do love me!

First Thoughts...epiphanies, outbursts & other ideas from UTNE...

"THE READER'S BILL OF RIGHTS
The right not to read
The right to skip pages
The right not to finish
The right to reread
The right to read anything
The right to escapism
The right to read anywhere
The right to browse
The right to read out loud
The right not to defend your tastes"
Daniel Pennac, French author, from the book Better
Than Life

Heat Wave in the City...

Today it got up to 79 degrees in the city. NYC 79 degrees in November? Record highs today. I suggested we third grade teachers plan a picnic or something to celebrate our student's next "publish" at the end of the month. I was reminded "California girl" that the weather will be cold in December. I guess that's a lapse in judgment...forgetting where I am maybe with this glorious weather.

NYC Marathon...

Today was the NYC Marathon...starts in Staten Island, travels over the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge into Brooklyn, through Queens, over the 59th Street Bridge into Manhattan, up 1st Ave into the Bronx, and back down into Manhattan to end in Central Park at Tavern on The Green.

We live right off the 7 mile mark in Brooklyn and went out to watch and cheer the runners on. I had a friend in town from Chicago, and T's friends showed up around 10:00am to start the day off right. We had bagels and coffee while we watched these amazing people run by us for three hours. I've never felt like more of a slacker standing with coffee, bagel, and cigarette in hand watching these 26 mile winners! What a sight!

The big hype was of P-Diddy running the marathon (which he did quite well finishing a little under 4 hours). However, it was the (extra)ordinary people we saw that moved us the most. We saw a 92 year old man from the Middle East running with his sons in full turban in 75 degree weather. We saw numerous blind people running with their guides and smiling as we cheered them on thru mile 7. Hours after watching these runners, it's hard to put into words the adrenaline I had as a spectator.

All I could think about was Em's mini-marathon in Indianapolis last spring. I watched these runners and was in awe of the stamina and drive needed to keep going all those miles. Em-I think you are amazing! I think the dedication to train and go through with a marathon (mini or otherwise) is a lifetime achievement not many people can claim to have. My hat is off to you dear sister (and all 35,000 runners in today's thrilling spectacle). I'd love to post pictures of today's event- will add when I figure out how to do it!