Good times in the land of whitey McWhitersons with the awesome roommate, Slai!
Sunday, June 14, 2009
love the roommate
I have a friend visiting Portland right now, and I think she's going to have a fantastic time.
Good times in the land of whitey McWhitersons with the awesome roommate, Slai!
Good times in the land of whitey McWhitersons with the awesome roommate, Slai!
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Will I miss my kids?
The hallway outside my room resembles the aftermath of hurricane Katrina as my students' papers have literally covered wall to wall. I have 23 students, and throughout the course of the year, each student used roughly 1 ream of paper for their work. That's 23 reams of paper scattered about right now being sorted.
Sometimes I wonder if I will really miss my kids. Kids are really annoying. They smell funny, throw food, and tattletale on each other like no other. They rarely express gratitude, and complain about everything under the sun. They think the world revolves about them, and they are some of the germ-iest creatures alive. Everyday when I get home, I wash my hands at least 3 times; most days, 4. And even then, I STILL don't feel their cooties completely off me.
In regards to my kids in particular, here are some unprofessional quantitative and qualitative observations I've reached after being with them this year:
50% should be taken in for some serious therapy sessions (i.e anger management, getting a grip on reality, sexual confusion, depression, socialization)
80% should be pulled out of the after school program and placed into intensive 1-1 tutoring
30% should receive a beating
10% should buy deodorant
100% should be given hand sanitizer
My kids:
1. Love to fart in class. They absolutely love it. You would think that in wanting to be the center of attention, they would strive for higher goals and say, get a gold star for working hard. But nope, farting seems to suffice.
2. Love Chucky. They also love bloody Mary (who supposedly lives in the girl's restroom), zombies, blood, guns, and watching stuff blow up. But most of all, they love talk, draw, and write about Chucky. And yes, my kids turn 10 in 2009.
3. Love to play backpack wars. Why wearing your backpack in front of you and knocking everyone else out is not yet an extreme sport, I have not a clue.
4. Love "going to the bathroom" and "getting a drink of water." Two free chances to escape momentarily outside into freedom; away from homework, away from centers, away from Ms. Teresa's glaring eyes.
5. Love Sponge Bob. As this show only requires the attention span of 15 seconds to be fully engaged, it's no wonder why my kids love it.
6. Love Little Caesar pizza parties. We may have turned into pizza snobs. I know I have with my vegetarian fresh ingredient jazz playing co-op Cheeseboard collective pizza in Berkeley. But compared to the government funded after school snacks these kids usually get, Little Caesar's pepperoni pizza with coagulated cheese is KING.
7. Love making "banana splits." Not ice cream. A banana split is when two friends sit on two playground swings next to each other. They then turn to face each other, and each places both their legs near the other person's crotch, thus making a formation resembling a banana split. They then will call on two other (non swinging) friends to come and push them.
8. Love pelting balls at each other. If it's inside, it's called Silent Speedball. If it's outside, it's called Crossfire. Both (more so the outside one), involve the need to hurl balls at one another. I think it helps some with the anger management, serious.
9. Love to steal erasers.
10. Love catching bugs. Bees, rolie polies, butterflies, and lady bugs are poor victims of my kids' incessant need to collect insects and store them inside their pencil cases.
11. Love rain. Torrents of rain would send a sane person running for cover, but it sends my kids racing outside straight to the deepest puddles.
Sometimes I wonder if I will really miss my kids. Kids are really annoying. They smell funny, throw food, and tattletale on each other like no other. They rarely express gratitude, and complain about everything under the sun. They think the world revolves about them, and they are some of the germ-iest creatures alive. Everyday when I get home, I wash my hands at least 3 times; most days, 4. And even then, I STILL don't feel their cooties completely off me.
In regards to my kids in particular, here are some unprofessional quantitative and qualitative observations I've reached after being with them this year:
50% should be taken in for some serious therapy sessions (i.e anger management, getting a grip on reality, sexual confusion, depression, socialization)
80% should be pulled out of the after school program and placed into intensive 1-1 tutoring
30% should receive a beating
10% should buy deodorant
100% should be given hand sanitizer
My kids:
1. Love to fart in class. They absolutely love it. You would think that in wanting to be the center of attention, they would strive for higher goals and say, get a gold star for working hard. But nope, farting seems to suffice.
2. Love Chucky. They also love bloody Mary (who supposedly lives in the girl's restroom), zombies, blood, guns, and watching stuff blow up. But most of all, they love talk, draw, and write about Chucky. And yes, my kids turn 10 in 2009.
3. Love to play backpack wars. Why wearing your backpack in front of you and knocking everyone else out is not yet an extreme sport, I have not a clue.
4. Love "going to the bathroom" and "getting a drink of water." Two free chances to escape momentarily outside into freedom; away from homework, away from centers, away from Ms. Teresa's glaring eyes.
5. Love Sponge Bob. As this show only requires the attention span of 15 seconds to be fully engaged, it's no wonder why my kids love it.
6. Love Little Caesar pizza parties. We may have turned into pizza snobs. I know I have with my vegetarian fresh ingredient jazz playing co-op Cheeseboard collective pizza in Berkeley. But compared to the government funded after school snacks these kids usually get, Little Caesar's pepperoni pizza with coagulated cheese is KING.
7. Love making "banana splits." Not ice cream. A banana split is when two friends sit on two playground swings next to each other. They then turn to face each other, and each places both their legs near the other person's crotch, thus making a formation resembling a banana split. They then will call on two other (non swinging) friends to come and push them.
8. Love pelting balls at each other. If it's inside, it's called Silent Speedball. If it's outside, it's called Crossfire. Both (more so the outside one), involve the need to hurl balls at one another. I think it helps some with the anger management, serious.
9. Love to steal erasers.
10. Love catching bugs. Bees, rolie polies, butterflies, and lady bugs are poor victims of my kids' incessant need to collect insects and store them inside their pencil cases.
11. Love rain. Torrents of rain would send a sane person running for cover, but it sends my kids racing outside straight to the deepest puddles.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
A pause from forgiveness
Quintessential K, the crazy bitch.
The backdrop: Today, one of my mischievous sexually curious children decided to use the school computer to look at a sex ed website when she should have been doing math drills. Then, she decided to frame an innocent classmate by telling me that he was the one who looked at the sex ed websites.
Obviously this little girl is not tech savvy at all, as a quick check in the Internet's history tab can immediately show which computer it was (and as I suspected, hers).
But, this little girl and her posse are apparently pretty good at working adults.
My 4:30pm began with K marching over to me and my framed innocent boy. This boy, who unfortunately does have a recent internet violation on his record (cussing another boy out), had to listen to K say,
"I've been given the information that you have been misusing the internet again."
Boy, with the most confused expression, goes, "huh? No I was just playing a math game."
"Are you telling me the TRUTH?! WHAT did we just talk about? WHAT did we JUST talk about. Are you even SUPPOSED to use school computers after what you did? NO!!"
"b-b-u-t-"
This poor boy is like stuttering for words, and I begin explaining that he's innocent because there is proof inside the Internet History tab and also multiple witnesses who say it was the girl. This boy just made an ideal scapegoat because of his less than stellar history with us teachers. And actually, he's been trying pretty hard to be better. The liar was not the boy, but the girl or her friends. They thought that by telling me and K, their alibi would be solidified.
So in order to get to the bottom of this issue and target the little culprit(s), I asked K, "Who was it that told you it was this boy?"
K, who by the way, is my self professed professional supervisor, replies coldly, "No, I'm not going to tell you who it was. Go deal with this yourself and tell me how it goes."
And then she turns around, walks away, and by 5:00pm she's playing Twister on the ground.
The backdrop: Today, one of my mischievous sexually curious children decided to use the school computer to look at a sex ed website when she should have been doing math drills. Then, she decided to frame an innocent classmate by telling me that he was the one who looked at the sex ed websites.
Obviously this little girl is not tech savvy at all, as a quick check in the Internet's history tab can immediately show which computer it was (and as I suspected, hers).
But, this little girl and her posse are apparently pretty good at working adults.
My 4:30pm began with K marching over to me and my framed innocent boy. This boy, who unfortunately does have a recent internet violation on his record (cussing another boy out), had to listen to K say,
"I've been given the information that you have been misusing the internet again."
Boy, with the most confused expression, goes, "huh? No I was just playing a math game."
"Are you telling me the TRUTH?! WHAT did we just talk about? WHAT did we JUST talk about. Are you even SUPPOSED to use school computers after what you did? NO!!"
"b-b-u-t-"
This poor boy is like stuttering for words, and I begin explaining that he's innocent because there is proof inside the Internet History tab and also multiple witnesses who say it was the girl. This boy just made an ideal scapegoat because of his less than stellar history with us teachers. And actually, he's been trying pretty hard to be better. The liar was not the boy, but the girl or her friends. They thought that by telling me and K, their alibi would be solidified.
So in order to get to the bottom of this issue and target the little culprit(s), I asked K, "Who was it that told you it was this boy?"
K, who by the way, is my self professed professional supervisor, replies coldly, "No, I'm not going to tell you who it was. Go deal with this yourself and tell me how it goes."
And then she turns around, walks away, and by 5:00pm she's playing Twister on the ground.
Lampton Elementary: On forgiveness, part 2
Part 2: where poop hits the fan
K would probably argue differently, but from my perspective, these are the reasons as to why I feel she is an ineffective leader.
1. Insincerity. Preaching ideals, forming ideas, making promises and not following through on multiple occasions will lead to people viewing you as an insincere person. With insincerity comes a lack of trust. A lack of trust will lead to you not being taken as serious as you would probably desire. Simple as that.
2. Inability to genuinely take constructive criticism. When your subordinates are honest and in multiple occasions, suggest (similar) solutions to (the same) problems, it isn't a threat or meant to insult you. It's just business in how things get done and improved. It isn't a time to come up with a rebuttal defending yourself.
3. Selfishness. It's more than fine to ask a lot from your subordinates, as long as you treat them with respect and give due gratitude where it is deserved. Asking your subordinates to do more than their job requirements to make you look good, and then treating them with coldness, that's taking a lot without giving anything back. That's being selfish. And no, a meal isn't a substitute for genuine gratitude. Saying we are all "one team" when things are going well, and then blaming everyone individually when things are bad, that is being selfish. Delegating responsibility that should ultimately be with you and blaming us for not doing it is selfish, and stupid.
When I think of K, I feel frustrated, sad, and angry. I feel frustrated when I think of all the things that could have been this year for the program, but wasn't due to our disinclination towards working together. I feel sad and disappointed that two otherwise nice people choose to show their ugly sides to each other instead of helping each other grow and learn. I also feel angry, both at K and ultimately myself, for letting a part-time job at a elementary school generate this much strife.
K would probably, and accurately, argue that there is a big missing piece to the puzzle. Where are my faults? What about MY laundry list of professional no-no's and K's list of grievances of my displeasing actions for the year? There is a lot to be sure.
And to be fair, there have been many a time when K has exhibited some very redeeming qualities and has been so helpful. But I'll have to save this for the final letter to her.
In the mess that is the relationship with me and K, I think the only thing left to do is forgive, learn, and move on. Forgive her and the multitude of ways this past year I feel she did wrong. Forgive myself for allowing myself to get entangled up in this silly mess. I can confidently say that come 6pm June 17th, K and I will go our separate ways forever.
K would probably argue differently, but from my perspective, these are the reasons as to why I feel she is an ineffective leader.
1. Insincerity. Preaching ideals, forming ideas, making promises and not following through on multiple occasions will lead to people viewing you as an insincere person. With insincerity comes a lack of trust. A lack of trust will lead to you not being taken as serious as you would probably desire. Simple as that.
2. Inability to genuinely take constructive criticism. When your subordinates are honest and in multiple occasions, suggest (similar) solutions to (the same) problems, it isn't a threat or meant to insult you. It's just business in how things get done and improved. It isn't a time to come up with a rebuttal defending yourself.
3. Selfishness. It's more than fine to ask a lot from your subordinates, as long as you treat them with respect and give due gratitude where it is deserved. Asking your subordinates to do more than their job requirements to make you look good, and then treating them with coldness, that's taking a lot without giving anything back. That's being selfish. And no, a meal isn't a substitute for genuine gratitude. Saying we are all "one team" when things are going well, and then blaming everyone individually when things are bad, that is being selfish. Delegating responsibility that should ultimately be with you and blaming us for not doing it is selfish, and stupid.
When I think of K, I feel frustrated, sad, and angry. I feel frustrated when I think of all the things that could have been this year for the program, but wasn't due to our disinclination towards working together. I feel sad and disappointed that two otherwise nice people choose to show their ugly sides to each other instead of helping each other grow and learn. I also feel angry, both at K and ultimately myself, for letting a part-time job at a elementary school generate this much strife.
K would probably, and accurately, argue that there is a big missing piece to the puzzle. Where are my faults? What about MY laundry list of professional no-no's and K's list of grievances of my displeasing actions for the year? There is a lot to be sure.
And to be fair, there have been many a time when K has exhibited some very redeeming qualities and has been so helpful. But I'll have to save this for the final letter to her.
In the mess that is the relationship with me and K, I think the only thing left to do is forgive, learn, and move on. Forgive her and the multitude of ways this past year I feel she did wrong. Forgive myself for allowing myself to get entangled up in this silly mess. I can confidently say that come 6pm June 17th, K and I will go our separate ways forever.
Lampton Elementary: On forgiveness, part 1
I don't know how to open this or end this long winded dense mess. All I know is that I have to forgive my boss, K.
Part 1: The backdrop
K and I have a fairly strained relationship. Funny thing is, in actuality, there isn't even that much time to strain the relationship. But in the little time we have together, it's evident. It's in how K never looks me in the eye, or really at all, when we have meetings. It's in how K never says hello or goodbye (unless I initiate it) when we arrive and depart from work, or asks how I'm doing or how the weekend was. It's in how we can walk down an entire school corridor together without exchanging a word. It's in how we can be the only two people representing our program at a conference, and not even sit together during lunch. It's in how K insinuates that every minor glitch (ie a paper missing) is due to me losing it without questioning if she was actually the one who misplaced it. Likewise, the strained relationship is in in how I try to stay in my classroom as long as I can before having to go to the office (where she is). It's in how I don't contribute in her meetings anymore. It's in how I show apathy to her new ideas.
It's no secret that a lot of things about K bother me. It REALLY bothers me that someone (who is more than twice my age and senior in position) cannot muster the decency to say hello first at least half the time. It bothers me that I know a lot of basic facts about her as a product of polite conversation questioning, and she does not know a single fact about me beyond my name and that I went to school somewhere in northern CA. It bothers me that she speaks in a demeaning tone to parents ("You ARE aware that the pickup time is at 5:30, right?"), and talks down about the custodian ("He's not used to people speaking in a soft, professional tone to him. That's why he yells."). It bothers me that her idea of leadership is referring back to scribbled notes from months past and saying "I've written down here that we discussed this matter, therefore I don't understand why you guys aren't acting accordingly."
For K, who is a champion advocate of "respecting our professionalism," I have never felt this disrespected in any work situation, ever.
But it wasn't always like this. Earlier, there was a time when I willingly worked extra at home, created and bought extra teaching materials, donated books and other supplies. Likewise, there was a time when K would (*gasp*) call me in the evening and ask if I was okay, if it seemed like I was having an off day. All of us worked together and turned the dysfunctional program into one that set the standard for the other 11 schools to follow.
What happened?
Part 1: The backdrop
K and I have a fairly strained relationship. Funny thing is, in actuality, there isn't even that much time to strain the relationship. But in the little time we have together, it's evident. It's in how K never looks me in the eye, or really at all, when we have meetings. It's in how K never says hello or goodbye (unless I initiate it) when we arrive and depart from work, or asks how I'm doing or how the weekend was. It's in how we can walk down an entire school corridor together without exchanging a word. It's in how we can be the only two people representing our program at a conference, and not even sit together during lunch. It's in how K insinuates that every minor glitch (ie a paper missing) is due to me losing it without questioning if she was actually the one who misplaced it. Likewise, the strained relationship is in in how I try to stay in my classroom as long as I can before having to go to the office (where she is). It's in how I don't contribute in her meetings anymore. It's in how I show apathy to her new ideas.
It's no secret that a lot of things about K bother me. It REALLY bothers me that someone (who is more than twice my age and senior in position) cannot muster the decency to say hello first at least half the time. It bothers me that I know a lot of basic facts about her as a product of polite conversation questioning, and she does not know a single fact about me beyond my name and that I went to school somewhere in northern CA. It bothers me that she speaks in a demeaning tone to parents ("You ARE aware that the pickup time is at 5:30, right?"), and talks down about the custodian ("He's not used to people speaking in a soft, professional tone to him. That's why he yells."). It bothers me that her idea of leadership is referring back to scribbled notes from months past and saying "I've written down here that we discussed this matter, therefore I don't understand why you guys aren't acting accordingly."
For K, who is a champion advocate of "respecting our professionalism," I have never felt this disrespected in any work situation, ever.
But it wasn't always like this. Earlier, there was a time when I willingly worked extra at home, created and bought extra teaching materials, donated books and other supplies. Likewise, there was a time when K would (*gasp*) call me in the evening and ask if I was okay, if it seemed like I was having an off day. All of us worked together and turned the dysfunctional program into one that set the standard for the other 11 schools to follow.
What happened?
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