Saying Goodbye.

Today was my last day teaching at PS 53. It was so hard to say goodbye to my kids...especially because most of them were crying when they walked out the room at the end of the day. It’s amazing how attached I got to these children after teaching them for just a few short weeks (some of them didn’t come into our classroom until last week)! I can’t even beging to fathom what it will be like to say goodbye to my children at the end of the school year in June.

But now I’m getting ahead of myself.


…and instead of doing that, let’s go on a quick photo tour of my class…


Welcome to Our Classroom.


View of the front


The Fabo Collabo – Maria, Danielle, and Diamond this morning before our last day. Bright, shiny faces…


…and of course: all my lovelies.

Want more?

Hard at work.


Khaliq.


Friends.











And I will end with an excerpt from a paper that Jarolis wrote today:
“I know that sometimes I peeve my teachers, especially Ms. Robles, but I am glad they didn’t give up.” She aced her math exam today…

Troubleshooting.

I just spent a good ten minutes erasing my phone...literally, with a pencil eraser. Apparently, that is what you are supposed to do when your phone spontaneously stops working.

This morning, when I woke up my phone hadn't been charging. In fact, it was saying that my battery was invalid. I futzed around with it for a while and ended up writing an email to Motorola to see what the deal was. I had not dropped it, I knew that the chance that both batteries would stop working all of the sudden was small...Their response? Erase the contact points for the battery and the phone with a pencil eraser. So I did. Still didn't work. But, while I was erasing, I did notice that two of the sticky-outy parts of the contacts weren't so sticky-out. I poked and prodded until they stuck out again...now my phone works.

The nine hours without my phone made me realize how dependent I am on this thing. Seriously...it was scary.

Okay. Now for the official good news: I have a job! This time for real! It's the same school I mentioned before, but it's not so sketchy anymore. I spoke to the principal who was awesome and she immediately offered me the position. The catch? I had to be back in Baltimore on the 2nd (next Tuesday) to get trained for a special reading program to be taught in my classroom. They'd pay me...but then I'd lose my one chance to get home this summer. Also, I already bought a ticket to fly home. Also, I'm having eye surgery. Also, my dad gave me expensive tickets to see Cirque De Soliel in Vegas on Saturday....really expensive. Also, I want to drive across the country with Jamie.

So. I told her all this, but I also told her I would see what I could do. All day I fretted over what to do...here was this opportunity to teach 3rd grade (which is what I would really want), at a school that has a really good relationship with TFA. What if I blew it by being stubborn. In the end, I told her no -- I wanted the eye surgery. She was awesome and gave me the position anyway...in fact, I'll still be getting paid to go! I'll just be doing it late August!

So: this is my school! After further research, I realized that this is the best placement in Baltimore for me. I know the teacher I am replacing -- her 3rd graders came to speak to the corps during pre-institute induction about what it was like having a TFA teacher, and she and I had a nice conversation afterwards because I had recognized her from the TFA promotional video that I had to watch so many times. Also, she's such a good teacher that they have shown videos of her in the classroom all throughout training.

She is awesome and offered to help me get set up in the classroom and offer pointers and tips for teaching at Belmont. The only downside of all this is that she is a hard act to follow. Still...I'm really excited. Trying not to get my hopes up, since nothing has been cleared by Human Resources yet...but according to the program director my position at Belmont is "rock solid". Cross your fingers kids.

As Promised...

...I present to you: Devil Squirrel.



So the other day, I was walking back from a meeting at Fordham and I hear this weird noise. It's a loud crunch sound and then a bunch of rustling, followed by squeaking...repeat. It's weird to me because it sounds so nearby, but I can't see anyone in the near vicnity. That's when I see Devil Squirrel. He climbed to the top of the fence (squeaking)...then leaped into a pile of garbage at the bottom (loud crunch)...then rolled around in it (rustling)...then scurried back up the fence (squeak). This he did a number of times before I decided to document it with my digital camera. Then he just sat on the fence and growled at me.

I’m telling you…EVIL. Notice the ratlikeness and the bright orange tail.

My Calves are Bleating.

So what if I haven't updated in a while; life has been somewhat hectic. Here's a quick update for your blogging pleasure.

Today I finally got to teach for the entire day. It actually went really well -- the kids were ANGELS -- but, I have to say that I had nothing to do with their incredible behavior. When I told them to do something, they did it. When I asked for silence, they gave it to me. When I ask for suggestions or volunteers all hands went up. Life is good.

However, I must reflect on me. I wasn't completely pleased with how things went today. I find myself being a pretty big softie. While the kids didn't take advantage of this today -- they could have. Towards the end of the day -- as they got more restless -- I started to worry that they might sense my weakness and exploit it. Luckily, they didn't. I think that this wussiness will not be as big an issue next fall when I have my own class. When I have to work with the kids everyday for 8 hours, I feel like I will be able to be much firmer with my rules and procedures. As it is, I only get them for an hour or two (although today I got them for five) so I don't feel as comfortable being super firm. Also, these kids are in SUMMER SCHOOL. I remember how crappy that was...

My other complaint about today is that my calves. are. SORE. Walking around in three inch heels all day? Not a good idea. I did not sit or lean for four and a half hours in these horrible shoes...surprisingly my feet don't hurt...just my calves. Funny...except not.

In other news, I finally got a phone call from a principal who wants me to teach at her school. I worry though because I think this may be on the downlow. Suspicious. I went ahead and got as much information as I could about the school...so hopefully when I speak to her tomorrow I will have a better idea of what I'm getting into. It seems as though the school needs a lot of help...it hasn't met any goals since 1997 and it is currently 25% below state level in all test results at best.

Also, something interesting to note, looking at the demographics I found that the student body is 100% African-American and href="http://www.jhu.edu/">Johns Hopkins! I am now, officially a grad student and on my way to a Masters for Teaching. Sadly, upon receiving my schedule I find that I will no longer be able to watch The OC as I will be in class and won't get home 'til after 10pm. Oh well. So ends my love affair with Seth Cohen.

You know? After getting the link to The OC website I see that they actually moved! Hello Seth Cohen!

To top off this pretty amazing day: Li'l Brudder.

Warm Fuzzies.

Today Elmer,one of my students, told me I was the best teacher he had ever had. It made me blush. Still, one of the things that I've learned this summer is that kids can toss around statements such as this one pretty easily.  Let's just see if he still likes me when I teach all day on Monday...

I'm beginning to come around on Math.  Seriously, the most rewarding thing about teaching is watching a student have their epiphany.  With math, it's just so concrete and tangible when they finally understand an objective.  They either get the problem right and can explain every step to you, or they can't.

This was the case with Ramon today.  His normal math group teacher had to leave early so he joined my group.  Unfortunately, he was still struggling with adding and subtracting fractions with unlike denominators while my students had already mastered it.  As we kept working on problems -- and he kept on making the same mistakes -- he grew more and more frustrated with himself.  Lighting up whenever he thought he got it and then darkening each time I had to correct his work.

After working through so many problems and bringing out manipulatives and drawing diagrams he finally got it in the 11th hour.  He was so proud of himself (and I was proud of him too) that he asked me for homework problems for practice.  Several high fives later, I sent him to his literacy group center.  Apparently, once he got there he kept on talking about his success in math and he asked if there were any books he could read on fractions.

It was a good day in the classroom today.

Pictures.

I got around to posting those pictures now.  So...


The glasses as modeled by bookworm: professional chic.


The dormroom in the Bronx. It's cozy.


The desk. You may notice: the book on "Reptiles" I plan on reading to my class next time I teach. The massive TFA binder. The floorplan of the apartment Jamie and I were considering (we ended up upgrading to a 2 bedroom version of that floorplan), and the lovely free printer. Bookworm is updating my log for me.

 

Doogie.

So today in the mail I got not one, but TWO packages!  It was like some sort of holiday where gifts are showered upon the unsuspecting.  It made my day.

Package #1: an old Boys II Men single and a nail trimmer.  Odd, I know, but I can explain.  Well...actually no one can really explain the Boys II Men.  Or is it Boyz??  Anyway, this package was a thoughtful gift from Jamie who must have felt like giving me a trip down memory lane to 5th grade.  I will forever remember dancing to "I'll Make Love To You" at my 5th grade dance with my first official boyfriend and thinking how awkward it was.  SO awkward.  Thanks Jamie.

P.S. I couldn't resist and googled the first official boyfriend.  Turns out this guy did something crazy having to do with a merohedral crystal twinning whozawhudzit.  Ya.  And I taught a bunch of kids how to use a dictionary last week.  This guy skipped high school entirely and went straight to college (a good college, mind you) after grade school.  I kidd you not...I called him Doogie while we were dating.  Come to think of it...maybe that's where my Doogie obsession started.  (I had a Doogie obsession in 10th grade -- don't ask.  It was Rent-related).
 
P.P.S. How many of you nosy buggers googled "merohedral crystal twinning" to see if you could find out the identity of said former boyfriend?

The nail trimmer was actually not so much a human nail trimmer, but rather a nail trimmer for felines.  There is the possibility that next year -- when we are living in our own apartment -- we will adopt a cat and my childhood dreams will be fulfilled.  I have already been looking at cat candidates. 

Package #2: My new glasses from the mommy.  This is a long story: as you know Jamie and I spent the beginning of the summer, running around looking for apartments.  We stayed at Jamie's friend's house and accidently left behind a lot of my stuff (see #1).  Have yet to retrieve the stuff and have been glasses-less (and replacement contactless) for most of institute. 

     On the first day of teaching, my left contact ripped slightly -- this tear has been getting bigger each day making my eye more irritated and red with each passing day.  As my eyes have always been red on account of the contacts I am used to it; however, my kids keep on asking me if I'm getting enough sleep (no) because my eyes are bloodshot.  This is a question I get all the time...from my college friends I got asked if I was high.  I decided that this has got to stop.

     My mom has been suggesting that I get laser eye surgery for a long long time.  I have resisted for fear that I would be blinded in a surgery mishap.  I have come to realize that I will soon be blind anyway because my eyes get worse and worse every year at a rapid pace.  Then, little thoughts of me being able to open my eyes in the morning and be able to read the alarm clock first thing flickered into my head.  What would it be like to look at a panoramic view of a city at night and see each individual light?  I always remember the first few days after getting new contacts and realizing that normal people can see each leaf on a tree rather than a mess of green!  Perhaps, with laser eye surgery I will have that everyday!  Or maybe I'll be blind.

       Mom says I should have it.  Mom says she'll pay for me to have it.  I'm scheduled for surgery the day after I get back from NY.  The big catch: I need to not wear contacts for a week before the consultation. 

Well, shit.

     Those of you who have actually seen my glasses are probably still rolling on the floor laughing at the thought of me venturing outside of my room in them (shut up!).  I have been mocked many many times by friends donning these thick-rimmed atrocities (is each individual lens a glass?  should this be plural?) and claiming to be Melissa.  To those of you who have never seen them...I'll just say that I got them for $12 at Costco when I was 12 with the belief that I would only wear them for the two seconds in the morning before I got the contacts in.

     Also, there's the tiny problem that I don't have them as they are still in D.C.  Maybe the D.C. friends are wandering around the house pretending to be Melissa.  I would be.

    Last, there is the fact that they have not been changed since I was 12 and therefore, I am blind even with them on.  No.  I could not be teaching my kids wearing dopey, thick glasses that would not actually help me see more than one foot in front of me and that are in D.C. 

The answer?  Lenscrafters' 30-day guarantee.  The mommy purchased the cheapest pair of glasses possible with my prescription and they will be returned right after my surgery since (cross your fingers) I won't be needing them ever again after that.  The glasses are actually pretty nice!  Anything is an improvement, and while I haven't actually seen them on (no mirror in my room), I have modeled them on Bookworm (who came in another package from Jamie) for you.  If you want to see me with them on...you'll just have to wait for it...

Woah.  Long post.  Shouldn't I be teaching?

Actually, I just tried posting the pictures but they wouldn't go through...maybe later?
    

Smorgasboard.

Is it incredibly nerdy that I really wish I could play this game?
 
Ya, I thought so.
 
Another day of teaching -- except...not really teaching.  Today I spent my time observing other teachers or in class myself.  This is actually how I'm going to spend this entire week.  With the way that the whole system is set up, it is going to work out that I'm not teaching in front of my kids again until next Monday...the last week of school.  Go figure. 
 
In other news, Jamie reported to me that Kevin (one of his "little" brothers) saved their home from certain doom today.  Apparently a fire at a neighboring house set their hill on fire and Kevin got out there with a hose in time to save their house from the approaching flames before the fire department (or Jamie) got there.  Not bad for a 14 year-old.
 
Happy to report that the house and the family are safe and that the fire is mostly out.  Also, no homes except for the original were badly burned.  Hooray for heroics!

Rodent-Friendly.

I'm going to play around with fonts.  Because I'm that bored right now.  Look, I can even do colors.  What larks.
 
I have decided that more of my friends need to keep blogs.  Not because I want all of my friends to be huge nerds, but more because I want to know what is going on in their lives.  Yes, I have heard of the invention known as the "telephone" and even the new "email" phenomena.  The thing is...I have always been horrible at keeping in touch with people...even people that I love.  If you are ever so inspired to keep me updated and entertained Blogger is a short click away.
 
Anyway, yesterday a girl in the adjacent room found a mouse.  I have never been one to understand the fear of mice: they are little and skittish and really very cute.  I can understand the fear of rats as they are more aggressive and might actually bite you if they feel threatened...but mice?  Harmless.
 
Apparently I'm the only person on my floor that feels this way, so while I crawled around the floor looking for this mouse to let it go, everyone else perched on chairs in the hallway.  Sadly, I never found the mouse and can only hope that it found its way out to a more hospitable environment.
 
Speaking of which: there are the weirdest squirrels here.  I'm not sure if I've actually mentioned them yet -- I'm much too lazy to fact check my old posts -- but I swear that they are crossed with rats.  They are black and have very thin tails...in fact I would say that they were rats, except for the fact that they are everywhere and they don't seem to be nocturnal.  There is one rat-squirrel in particular that lives right outside my dorm who is completely black but has a red tail.  It's very bizarre.  So bizarre that I aim to have it photographed and posted by the end of the week.  I don't care if people sitting outside the dorm smoking cigarettes think I'm that crazy lady taking pictures of wild rodents.
 
Is the rat-squirrel a native species of New York?

School Year's Resolution.

When I was young, I was given a book called The A+ Guide to Getting Good Grades or something along those lines.  Every year, before school started, I would get really psyched up and read this book.  That year would be the year that I would really pull my shit together and become a well-organized student with incredible work habits and time management skills.  I would always keep this up until the third or fourth day…but would rarely make it past the first week.
 
When I went to Williams, I took the book with me.  It sat on my shelf unread for all four years.  When it came time to pack up my room after graduation…I made sure that it found its way to a box that would not be discarded.  Something has been keeping me from throwing its out-dated ass away. 
 
Maybe I’ll read it just one more time before I start teaching in the fall...After all, as a teacher, I will have no excuse to not be organized.  Maybe I’ll be able to keep it up for two weeks this year.

Ask Me What I Make.

Let the countdown begin.  I have passed the halfway mark of my time here in New York.  It’s strange how time moves while I’m here.  Each day seems so very long, but the weeks go by incredibly quickly.  I have no idea if that makes any sense, but it’s exactly how it feels.  Melvin, one of my students, always says: “Ms. Umezaki! That problem (or reading) is easy and hard at the same time!  I don't know if I can do it.”  He then goes on to tackle the problem (or reading).
 
I wish that I could say the same about my approach to this whole thing – instead, I’m sort of running out of steam.  I think that my loss of momentum has more to do with the fact that I’m not really going to be teaching all that much next week and because I know that I won’t have the same students in my classroom come Monday. 
 
Still, I think that I'm doing much better emotionally-wise than many of my colleagues.  This is measured only by the fact that I have yet to cry because of my kids (I'm not counting the tears of joy when I first realized that I was officially a teacher, nor am I counting the tears of bittersweetness when I saw my kids leaving room 401 for the last time).  I have definitely seen people bawling uncontrollably in hallways, elevators, bathrooms, on the phone, in the lunchline, at a student's desk, and once in the middle of a class (that was bad news). 
 
Maybe the only reason I've managed to get by without any type of breakdown is because I haven't had a 2nd grader tell me to "Fuck off or [I'll] punch your momma in the babymaker" yet.  Time will tell.  But, as inspiration to those who have cried in the bathroom after a horrendous class, I offer this poem by Taylor Mali  called What Teachers Make, or You Can Always Go To Law School If Things Don't Work Out (this is supposed to be spoken word...use your imagination):

He says the problem with teachers is, "What's a
kid going to learn from someone who decided his
best option in life was to become a teacher?"
He reminds the other dinner guests that it's true
what they say about teachers:
Those who can, do; those who can't, teach.

I decide to bite my tongue instead of his and
resist the temptation to remind the dinner guests
that it's also true what they say about lawyers.

Because we're eating, after all, and this is polite company.

"I mean, you're a teacher, Taylor," he says."Be honest. What do you make?"

And I wish he hadn't done that
(asked me to be honest)
because, you see, I have a policy
about honesty and ass-kicking:
if you ask for it, I have to let you have it.

You want to know what I make?
 
I make kids work harder than they ever thought
they could.
I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional medal
of honor
and an A- feel like a slap in the face.
How dare you waste my time with anything less than your very best.

I make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall
in absolute silence. No, you may not work in
groups.
No, you may not ask a question.
Why won't I let you get a drink of water?
Because you're not thirsty, you're bored, that's why.

I make parents tremble in fear when I call home:
I hope I haven't called at a bad time,
I just wanted to talk to you about something Billy
said today.
Billy said, "Leave the kid alone. I still cry
sometimes, don't you?"
And it was the noblest act of courage I have ever seen.

I make parents see their children for who they are
and what they can be.

You want to know what I make?

I make kids wonder,
I make them question.
I make them criticize.
I make them apologize and mean it.
I make them write.
I make them read, read, read.
I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful over and over and over again until they will never misspell either one of those words again.
I make them show all their work in math.
And hide it on their final drafts in English.
I make them understand that if you got this (brains)
then you follow this (heart)
and if someone ever tries to judge you
by what you make, you give them this (the finger).

Let me break it down for you, so you know what I say is true:
I make a goddamn difference!
What about you?

Bah!

Another little rant about the school at which I work: today, as my students were leaving the classroom, the faculty advisor came into the room and announced that most of them would be leaving our class on Monday.  While she couldn’t say which of my students would be leaving, she wanted all of them to be prepared to leave.
 
This sucks.
 
This sucks because we have developed a rapport with our kids and have definitely found the best way to work with them towards making significant gains in their learning.  It sucks because I can see Roberto getting excited in the classroom and working hard on his assessments.  It sucks because for the first time today, I had a conversation with Fernelys with him talking in English and me talking in Spanish and both of us laughing at how funny we must have sounded to everyone else.  I love my kids.  I love hearing them call me Ms. Umezaki and watching them get excited to do division problems.  I am guessing that the changes will be to either make our class entirely English as a Second Language learners, or to make it entirely English speakers.  This would have been great during the first week…but now that we are halfway through our curriculum…it sucks.
 
While I had not shed a tear in the school thus far, I was very very close when Roberto hugged me goodbye and when I saw Fernelys wave goodbye to me with tears in his eyes.  Also, for the first time, one of my kids came up to me and told me that I was a good teacher – this was unexpected and almost started the waterworks as well.  Today was a rough day.
 
I had my meeting with my advisor today to talk about my progress.  It was the kind of deal where I had to grade myself.  I hate grading myself.  Luckily, my advisor spared my ego and wasn’t as harsh on me as I was.  In fact, he really surprised me with his review since I thought he actually hated me.  Not to say that I don’t need to improve at all – I have a long way to go before I can be where I want to be – but it was nice to know that from an outsider’s perspective, I wasn’t a complete wreck in the classroom.
 
Let’s see how I do with a new crop of kids…

Teaching Update.

Yesterday at school was sort of a disaster. The math lesson was pretty boring. It turns out that I’m really boring. While I can keep most of my students in check – despite their utter boredom – I can’t help but see their utter boredom staring me in the face. My ESL (English as a Second Language) kids just tune out whenever they hear one word of English pass my lips, and the others are staring at me blankly. I have no idea if they are actually getting it.

In addition, Wendy Kopp – the founder of TFA – was observing at our school yesterday. Apparently our school had been the model school for New York Institute. The classes had been running smoothly and everyone had rave reviews about what they saw in the classrooms. Everything went to shit on Monday though: the school surprised us by requiring us to administer some more diagnostic exams, so all of our lesson plans for the day were scrapped (save, of course, my boring math lesson) in lieu of some test time. So, the kids were bored and this is what Wendy saw.

Suffice to say, our review was: “These kids are bored. Be more engaging.” We got yelled at a bunch. There was definitely one advisor who said: “You guys think you’re hot shit coming from Harvard or Yale…but you need to leave your egos at the door.” I was appalled. This truly is teacher’s boot camp and there is little respect for us scrubs when are in large groups. I should note that when we are in smaller groups with our particular advisor there is much respect and love.

Today was better. My kids are still pretty great, although I did have to make a phone call to a parent today. Scary. What is the most scary is the sneaking feeling that these kids are not learning anything right now. While we still struggle to gain our footing and adjust to life at the institute, these kids are struggling to pass to the fifth grade. While it may “suck” how inefficient the teaching rotation we are using right now is for us (teaching in a group of five and having to rotate subject matter each day – this isn’t the norm, I’m in one of the only 5-person collaboratives at my school), it SUCKS that these kids are the ones who have to pay for it. The only times I feel satisfied with myself as a teacher and that I feel like my kids are actually making academic gains is when we work in the smaller learning groups for an hour at the end of the day. Unfortunately, I am only working with three kids at a time…baby steps…I guess.

Rereading this I realize that I’m coming off as extremely negative on TFA. That is not intended. In reality, TFA has to juggle relations and communications with so many parties that it’s amazing that anything gets done at all. There is so much planning and coordination involved in a single day – from our bagged lunches, to the bus ride we take to the schools, and of course the fact that they can actually place 500+ non-experienced teachers in classrooms throughout the Bronx…kudos must be given.

...Or Maybe A Troll?

It's Decemberween!

Sweet.

(Update on the day to follow -- must nap).

Melissa + Math = Failure.

Tomorrow I will be teaching my very first math lesson ever. Eeeeeeeeeeek! What frigtens me more than teaching math, is the idea that people are actually trusting me to teach their children math. Tomorrow will be the true test of my ability.

Does anybody realize how hard it is to teach simple arithmetic? Science I can do. English, I can usually do. Math?? No. And I realized today that it's not just me (although I admit I am a math moron). It is just hard to explain. I had to call upon the math genius that is Jamie. And when that didn't really work, I had to call upon the math legend, my brother (winner of several "Math Counts!" awards, mind you). Apparently, the magic word was "placeholder". To my credit, I knew that it was because of the place value. I just didn't know the correct term.

For serious.

Blacklist Update.

My hand inexplicably smells like coffee right now. It is as if my hand had been placed in a vat of it while I slept and marinated all night. This is odd because: (a) I haven’t had coffee for a couple of days and it wouldn’t make senses for my hands to smell like coffee, (b) I have washed my hands many many times since I noticed the coffee smell and it still won’t go away and (c) I did eat tuna today and one would think that if my hands were to smell like anything, it would be tuna.

This bothers me because it means that I must have unwittingly stuck my hand in someone else’s spilled coffee…which is gross. Speaking of which…the other day, I was standing next to some girl bussing her tray when she dropped her glass of orange juice. Since it was mostly empty, it did this spectacular spin move all the way to the ground, splashing its contents all over my white skirt. I helped the girl pick up her cup and clean up the floor. Bitch didn’t even say “thank you” or “sorry about the skirt”. She goes on my blacklist.

So does the drinker of whoever’s coffee is on my hand.

So does my roommate who is randomly yelling out lines from random hip hop songs. What’s the point of wearing headphones if you’re going to scream out every. word. of. the. song. DELETED.

This School is Brought to You By 3M.

First week of teaching is over. Overall an enjoyable experience and I already have plenty of “kids-say-the-darndest-things” stories. One big thing I noticed:

There has been a revolution in elementary schools since I was a student. It is of the paper variety. Post-Its have taken over our public school system. Did you know that in New York, it is against school policy for a teacher to mark up a student’s paper? Meaning, it is grounds for dismissal if I were to put checkmarks or revision suggestions directly on a child’s homework or essay. Apparently, it transfers ownership away from the student and demeans their work. Therefore, all teachers must use post-its to grade homework and papers. I have a problem with this for a number of reasons:

1. It’s wasteful. While I like post-its (especially when they have fun colors), I have never really gotten used to using them since they. are. so. wasteful. You write a couple words on it and then stick it to something expecting that in the not-so-distant future they will be thrown away.

2. It’s ineffective. How can I circle a particular word or a step in a math problem with stickies? “You may want to check the spelling of your third use of the word ‘impashunt’.”

3. A post-it smiley face or “Super!”???

4. Post-Its FALL OFF. Especially when they are crammed into a messy elementary student’s desk.

5. Ownership smonership. I would eat my hat if a kid ever said: “By marking my paper, the teacher has taken away my ownership of my paper. Learning is dead to me now.”

6. Teachers have a small enough budget to work with…Post-Its should at the very least be provided to us (they’re not).

I smell a conspiracy here. All I can hope is that Baltimore is not quite as strange.

Late Night Ramble.

I love my children and I want so much for them to succeed, but right now, I’m definitely not giving them what they deserve.

Roberto doesn’t understand a word of English. I sit him in the front so that maybe he will pay close attention to the hand gestures and facial expressions that I make just for him. Instead he just stares at me with a confused face and every once in a while will pound his head frustrated, as if he is trying to tell his brain to wake up. The thing is, his brain is awake and he is so brilliant. He excels in math – far beyond his classmates and begs for more difficult problems. Once I translate the words to him in Spanish, he can write up an elaborate story for me about a purple monster living in a lake. He deserves more.

Francisco talks a mile a minute and somehow always knows the right answer. But I worry so much about him being bored. He deserves more too.

And then there is Jarolis who needs special attention for her violent outbursts. When I gave her a time out and a reflection sheet for slapping Laquisha in the face I could actually feel her cussing me out when my back was turned. But when I noticed her working diligently on her writing assignment, I couldn’t get to her in time to praise her, and she crumpled it up and threw it at Elvis.

Oh Elvis. Who acts like such a gentleman and opens the door for me and will attempt (most students don’t) to speak English. But when I come back into the room after my teaching session is over I see that he is on the red consequence. Apparently he is a nightmare in the afternoon.

All my kids deserve so much more than I am giving them right now. I worry that I won’t be able to get my act together by the time the summer is over…

Today I cried...

...but not for the reasons you think. I actually had an amazing day. The kids are amazing -- while they're definitely not angels and there are definitely going to be challenges -- I know that we will reach our goals. I think a big part of the reason that we could easily manage our class today was because it was the first day of school and the students were pretty timid. I expect that to change very soon...probably tomorrow.

But for now...I will bask in the greatness that was today. Things did go wrong: when we got to our classroom this morning we found out that they had ripped out the floors and removed all the furniture over the weekend to get rid of some asbestos contamination. This shifted us to the fifth floor of the school which aside from being up too many flights of stairs for someone with a sprained ankle and heels, was also not air-conditioned. After moving all our stuff and setting up our room (again) we realized we had two minutes to prepare and relax before we had to pick up our students.

The school processing was extremely inefficient and we did not have (nor do we have yet) a roster of the students in our class. It took a long long time to get everyone to their classrooms...and by the time we got there we had already completely missed an entire period that was supposed to be devoted to rules and procedures.

There are also two students who do not understand a word of English and could therefore, not write a single word either. This will be a huge challenge as they will be required to take and pass a state test that will only be administered in English...eep. We also have six or seven other kids who rely heavily on Spanish translations but can get by with just English. And then of course we have those who don't know any Spanish at all -- who knows why they are in a bilingual classroom.

We have a couple "behaviorally-challenged" students in our class (or so the school reports) which will make this summer more interesting. Luckily, I mastered my teacher face (read: the I-am-not-amused-at-your-attention-getting-antics) and so far it's working well enough. I did realize that I need to learn how to snap my fingers loudly. I feel like the "snap-and-point" is the ultimate teacher move.

Anyway, I did cry today. But it was when I got back to the University and I saw that all the staff had put together a big party for us to celebrate our official first day as teachers. [sniffle]. We made it.

First Day Jitters.

Tomorrow is the day that I start teaching. I’m pretty excited; it seems as though these past few weeks have all been building up to this moment and I’m just raring to go. I can’t wait to get in front of those 20+ students and help them learn how to write a research paper and how to divide four digit numbers.

Another part of me is dreading the part of tomorrow where I get my ass kicked and my spirit crushed. I have been assured by many people that by the end of the week I will have cried at least once (not that I didn’t know that). People are already dropping like flies around here. I think Baltimore is the only regional corps so far that hasn’t taken any hits. Today we found out that some girl in the D.C. corps packed up her things on Friday and never came back. When she didn’t show up in class the office contacted her and found that she had quit…without telling anyone.

I’m writing it down here for all posterity: I’m committed to TFA. BRING IT.

Yes, There are A Lot of Japanese People in Peru.

When I was speaking on the phone with Jamie last night, I had an epiphany: not everyone has to answer questions about their race everyday.

Growing up in L.A. I never really felt like a minority. In fact, I would always forget that I wasn’t white. Have I mentioned this in a post before? I feel like I have. Anyway, so yesterday, while I was speaking to Jamie, it occurred to me that no one EVER asks him about his background. Me, on the other hand, get questioned at least once a day if I’m in a new environment (where I’m likely to bump into someone who I’ve never met before and hasn’t already asked me the question).

My visit to the emergency room the other day? I got asked thirty times at the very least: people in the waiting room, nurses registering me, doctors, custodians, guy vomiting on the floor, you name it. I never really thought twice about it before, but when the x-ray guy asked me “what’s your background??” I assumed that he meant my medical background or maybe something related to x-rays. “No, I mean your race.”

Would it be rude for me to ask for his “background” as well? I feel like it’s a personal question because in order to explain it I have to talk about my parents and my grandparents. Talk about growing up in Los Angeles, etc. All I know is, if I went up to some random person on the street (or in a hospital waiting room) and asked them for their background it would be a little strange.

I wonder if my brother has to deal with the same questions. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t really mind it…up until yesterday, I didn’t even notice it. I just think it’s interesting.

P.S. Happy Birthday America.

And now for something completely different.

At what point do we stop being children and become teachers. I am well aware of the never-ending role of “student”, but there must be some point at which we cease being children.

Tonight, at dinner, a bunch of my TFA friends and I were sitting around and laughing about one immature thing or another. We were talking about ex-boyfriends and curfews and random drunken antics and it hit me – Ms. Lynch and Mrs. Corliss definitely did NOT go clubbing or master the fine art of beer pong. There is no way that Ms. Sachs still had a curfew when she started teaching. And if Ms. Johnson ever terrorized a dining hall completely drunk than I would eat my hat.

So why are we going to be teachers?

Yesterday we took a test. It was self-corrected and while we were correcting it I realized that the act of grading our own paper was sort of practice for all of the papers we would soon have to grade. Then I heard something horrific: after each answer was read the soft hiss of “yessssssssssssss” bubbled up throughout the room. Later, as some people got more bold, words like “yup” and “wahoo!” started coming out as well. Nothing bothers me more than people who publicly congratulate themselves on easy self-assessed tests. We get it: you’re smart. So is everyone else in the room or they wouldn’t be here. Some people would argue with the administrator of the test (“what if I said…?”) and others grew annoyed at the stupidity of the rubric and complained about their wrong answers (“I knew that! The question was just confusing!). People, this test was to see what we needed to review. Anything of any academic importance will not be self-assessed.

The teachers of tomorrow, the 3rd graders of today.

...And Then the Day Got Worse.

I just got back from the emergency room. I was forced to go there -- despite the slight (teensy-tiny, even) chance that I had actually broken my ankle rather than just sprained it. I got there at 9pm and it is now almost 5am. That would be a grand total of almost eight hours sitting in a sad little waiting room to find out that my ankle. is. sprained.

Somebody whose name begins with "J" and ends with "amie" is on my blacklist right now for forcing me to go. To make matters worse, I got back and found that no love had been sent to me via the comment option. No one loves me or reads my blog anymore. Sniffle.

I must sleep.

Melissa and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Bad Day.

(This is the view from my window).

Things aren't going my way.

7am -- good start to the day, since we normally have to get up at 5am to catch the bus. Today, our classes don't start 'til 9am. Get ready at a leisurely pace since breakfast doesn't end 'til 9am. Decide to stroll over at 8:30 and just pick up a bagel and some coffee. On my way there, I find out that they are already closed...no biggie since I normally don't have breakfast anyway.

9am -- find out that we were supposed to pick up bagged lunches and that the cafeteria is not an option. Lunch pick-up ended at 8:15am. Crap.

10-12pm -- watch hungrily on as people snack on and eat their bagged lunches.

12pm -- find out that New York state has no record of the results of my TB test which were supposed to be faxed over from Baltimore last Monday. Without the test results I am not allowed to teach on Tuesday.

12:15pm -- find out that the Baltimore office will be closed until Tuesday.

1pm -- find out that all of my hard work (including, but not limited to, lots and lots of room decorations, management plans, lesson plans, a student achievement plan for the WHOLE SUMMER) was in vain because my collaborative group was going to be dissolved to meet the demands of the school.

1:15pm -- found out that not only was my collaborative group dissolved, but I was the only person in the whole school to be switched to a completely different Advisor group. New advisor + new people who have been bonding with each other for the past week = Melissa as a total outsider.

1:30pm -- learn that my new class will be bilingual. Caramba!

2pm -- new collaborative group seems really nice, but are also going away for the weekend. Meaning, they don't have the time to sit down with me and go over their game plan, nor do I have ANY input on what my summer class is going to be like.

2:15pm -- sprain ankle in front of 100 people. Seriously -- we were just getting out of an assembly and I was in front of the entire group.

3pm -- because of said sprained ankle I miss out on Dee's birthday party. Also, everyone's going dancing tonight. Cry!

6:30pm -- on way back from dinner it starts to pour. While everyone else can run for shelter, I'm caught hobbling through the rain...in flip-flops.

6:36pm -- slip on flip-flops in rain. Twist knee...am now hobbling on two messed up legs.

Also, as a forecast of bad days to come, I'm going to have to wear three inch heels on Tuesday -- with my messed up ankle -- as I do not have any other school-appropriate shoes.

Please end this day by shooting me in the head.

No Probalo.

I've taken some hits for my last post. People seem to be scared that my roommate will someday read my blog and be offended. Trust me, I thought about this, and I figured that it was a risk I was willing to take. After all, it's not like she would find my site on google.

Then Abby tells me that apparently you can find it. Being the teacher in training that I am, I propose that we do a little experiment. If you're reading this, open a new window and do a google search for my webpage. Feel free to use any keywords you like. Post a comment with your results.

Apparently, if when Abby types "Umezakisauce" she finds me. Oddly, when I type the same thing, I don't. Maybe it's a conspiracy.

No Sleep 'Til Baltimore.

DISCLAIMER: the writer of this blog entry has never had a roommate before in her life -- excluding one Mr. James Long (whom she adores as a human being) -- and as a result is much more sensitive than the average schmo to the presence of a human being within sleeping quarters.

I like my roommate. She's funny and smart. Don't get me wrong I like her a lot, but there are some things that I just don't understand. Like the big, clangy, silver bracelets she wears to bed. While I have been known to fall asleep with my watch on every once in a while, I don't think I could possibly fall asleep with BIG, CLANGY, bracelets on. She's of the type that moves around in her bed a lot so those things are clangy all night.

Also, she gets especially flatulent in her sleep. This makes me wonder: am I flatulent when I sleep? Is she flatulent all day but especially adept at hiding the noise when she is conscious? Between the clangs and the farts I have a hard time sleeping over here...