The State of the Union

I watched for nearly 55 minutes, waiting for him to tell me how he was going to make life better for my students.
7, 8, and 9 year olds who don't care about the war or the economy or 'partisan politics.'
They have no money, no stability, no goals...no future except for the one they will accidentally fall in to.
Some can't read or write or even pay attention long enough to absorb what we're trying to teach them.
They need medical attention and adult supervision and smaller class sizes.
In spite of the efforts of teachers and administrators and social workers, some of them continue to slip away.
Come into my classroom, visit some of my students in their homes, then come back and tell me you're leaving no child behind.

26 - 1 = One More Homie Movin Out of Da Hood

We lost one today - he's moving.
He came to get his supplies during our prep...didn't want to say goodbye to friends.
He's a bully.
He's gotten caught up in gangs at the ripe old age of 8.
He's disrespectful and loud and has a chip on his shoulder that's larger than his brain.
But I'll miss him, and I was sad to see him go.
Transient lives are normal to these kids.
It'll take my 'lived in the same house for my entire life' heart a little getting used to.

We announced his departure before the kids left.
"Just one more homie movin out of da hood," said our wanna-be-thug thumb sucker.

Completely Consumed

By kids and lessons and disfunction and the effort that it takes to ignore what they go home to so that I can sleep at night...
Some of them aren't going to get it. Because they can't yet, or because they don't want to, or because I'm not the person to help them get it.
I'm supposed to move on, and realize that the energy I spend on them could be spent on the kid sitting next to them or at another table...the kid who would get it if I spent my time with them.
But walking away feels like giving up and I'm left feeling eternally guilty for the ones I didn't reach.

He cried today when I disciplined him. He has the cognitive abilities of a 3 year old. He didn't understand, and I knew it. But I had a point to make to all of the other 8 year olds who make a hobby of walking all over adults.
I kept him after class, and as tears ran down his face I found myself holding back tears of my own.
"I'll make better choices, I promise," he blubbered.
"I know you will," I said, and I stopped. There was so much more I could have said, but the lump in my throat stopped me and I was left with only the commute home to think about how it could have gone better.

There's so much more I could write about. A niece that never stops growing...a relationship that continues to grow each and every day. A future that is quickly approaching and a city whose never ending sounds give me so much life.
But they're all just background right now...soft music that plays while all 25 of my hooligans scream at me to save them.

We went winter hiking today.
Way fun.
And not as dangerous as cross country skiing.
There's something about being in the middle of huge pine trees surrounded by white snow and clear skies that makes winter seem peaceful and so natural.
No slippery roads or dirty cars or sub zero temperatures...
Just serenity.

Her post made me realize just how far we've come in a week - me and my hooligans (what I've oh so affectionally nicknamed them). The week began with a day long breakthrough and an attitude of respect that remained throughout the week.
I can't believe it's only been 3 weeks. The time is flying...
More of an update later....it's time to take a break from lesson planning and reflect on the moments of my life that happen when I'm not obsessed with reaching kids who would love nothing more than to remain anonymous.
I can't wait for tomorrow morning. That's an awesome feeling.

Me, my sister, Mylo (the dog) and the cutest baby that was ever born. I tell her that all the time...I'm hoping to give her a complex :)

It's Summer in my Stomach

Organic spinach and carrots...tomatoes and red onion and cucumber and portabella mushrooms. Topped with a teensy bit of parmesan cheese and homemade rye bread croutons...
The best salad I think I've ever had...unfortuneately the larger-than-life bowl I made just yesterday is nearly gone :(
It makes me long for summer....farmers markets. Watermelon and strawberries and pineapple and mangoes and corn on the cob and fresh spinach and asparagus and I could go on and on forever because I'm obsessed with the food of summer and I want it NOW.
*Sigh*
I guess I'll have to wait.
In June I get to live at home for 2 weeks smack dab in the middle of the craziness that will be my summer. That means time to breathe and prepare and rejuvinate and hang out with the coolest little girl in the entire world and EAT OUT OF MY DAD'S GARDEN!!!
Oh the things I used to take for granted...
The best strawberries I ever had were picked early in the morning before he went to work a couple of summers ago. They were washed and waiting on a paper towel for me to eat when I woke up with a note in his handwriting - all capitals. They were red and perfect and organic in the purest sense of the word...and now I'll get to eat them for two whole weeks!!!
All I have to do is survive the winter.

Gratitude

For the cards and the phone calls and emails and Facebook greetings...
The presents and support and cake sent in a box from 750 miles away.
For an organic candle lit dinner and an entire bottle of champagne consumed while we watched the snow fall...for mini golf and Icees and arcade games and the perfect balance of everything that is us....and me.
I'm so spoiled...
And couldn't be more thankful :)

I want to teach tomorrow.
I want to get up too early and drive to school...eating my breakfast in the car.
I want to greet each of them as they walk in...hoods up, blank stares at the ground. "GOODMORNING!" I'll say, much more cheerfully than I really feel.
They'll crack a smile back and maybe...just maybe...it would be the start of a better day.
I would be patient and understanding and firm and intellectual...analyzing why they act the way they do, slowly creeping towards the answer that will allow me to finally reach them.
Forget reaching them...I'd settle for being able to manage them at this point.
Tomorrow would be the beginning of less chaos and more...I don't know....normalcy?
Is that even possible with kids that go home to homeless shelters and crack head parents and this week's foster home?
Tomorrow there would be no swearing or kicking of chairs...no threats of 'shooting up your house' and maybe, if we're lucky, they'd forget their plastic bling and cell phones at home.
Really, I would just love to be with them tomorrow. To talk about honoring a man who died so that they could drink out of the same water fountains and use the same restrooms as I do.
They need to be empowered.
They need to realize that they can be so much more than this.
Instead they will roam the streets, as they do every afternoon...trying to act so much older than they are....
I will sit restless in a coffee shop...planning and scheming for some way to get through to them. I will figure out a way to be more inspired and more renewed and Tuesday they won't know what hit them.
Even with that....
I still wish I was teaching tomorrow.

Jamie Cullum - March 12, 8 pm at the Fitzgerald in St. Paul.
$26.
Anybody wanna go?

Miss Homie

All 26 of them getting ready to go home....complete and total chaos.
It's a jumble of lockers and backpacks and homework folders and, "Do I ride the bus today?" questions to which I have no answer.
Girls with fuzzy gloves and last minute secrets that just must be told before they depart for the day.
And then there's the front of the line.
The boys that think it is their right to "budge" in front of everyone.
The seven year olds that walk around in Fubu and Nike and G Unit and plastic 'bling' and refer to themselves pimps.
Today there was too much pushing and head swiveling for my liking so I moved to the front of the line. Usually that's all it takes....a good "stop that" look, and my presence that silently says, "I saw what you were doing and let it go....for now." But on this Monday they pushed farther....
"You can't be up here," they said.
"Oh really? Why not?" I inquired.
"This is for homies only," they informed me.
"No one told you? I am Mrs. Homie, and I get to stand wherever I want." I challenged.
They looked at each other, deciding who would get in the least amount of trouble for continuing our little exchange.
"Well we're allergic to girls," one finally said.
"I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "There's none at the end of the line - I think you'll do better back there."
"Ha ha ha!" they laughed, too fake for anyone to really believe. "We were kidding!"
"I wasn't," I said with a smirk that was really my laughter dying to come out. "Get to the end of the line."
"What! No way!" they argued. This was, after all, their coveted front of the line.
"That was a command, not a question," I reminded them.
One by one they moved to the end of the line, glaring all the way.
"See you tomorrow boys!" I said cheerfully as they left for the day.
It's a constant power struggle and process of analyzing when to engage and when to walk away. Engaging all the time would take every ounce of energy I have...but never engaging would undermine my posistion as an authority figure.
Balance and intentionality are the key.

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It gives me chills. I've been jumping around the apartment and singing happy music at the top of my lungs...I don't think it's possible to explain how excited I am. This is how I thought it would feel. Not like last year...when it was this 'go or don't go' debate.
I'm ready now.
I'm excited now.
I'm a better educator than I was a year ago.
It's official.
New York City - here I come.
My beating heart and nieve excitement can't wait to be part of you...
I hope everybody feels like I feel right now at least once in their life.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.........
Life Awaits!

Full Speed Ahead

Packing and stairs and the realization that I am all too American, but am lucky to have amazing parents that repeatedly drop everything to move their daughters...
A new school with new kids and new teachers and a new routine that I will soon settle in to, but until I do the minutes creep by with 'what are we doing next' apprehension...
A new apartment that is still not put together...there are shelves to hang and a bathroom to clean and a mirror and nightlight to buy...but they will have to wait because I'm too busy getting used to being here.
I've been cross country skiing (also known as finding ways to creatively fall) and spending time with a boy whose quirks are much different without all of the miles inbetween us. It's amazing how different we are when we're both here...it's like the last year and a half of distance and arguing and 'stay together or not' conversations never even happened because suddenly it just works again...like it used to.
Falafels and healthy vegetarian Chinese and grape juice and cottage cheese...
Good radio stations that keep me company at night when I can't sleep because the sounds of the building have not yet become comforting.
Moments to breathe and many more when I forget to.
This will be good. I can feel it.