Sick Reflections

So here I am at Lake Tahoe with the intention of having a real vacation for our second winter break (much needed), but lucky me, I get super sick the night before it all and now have missed the first three days of skiing. It's been painful to hear everyone else's incredible stories from the days, but even more painful to realize how predictable this kind of thing has become. I don't get sick during the school week, but the moment I have more than weekend of break, my immune system goes into hibernation. Probably not good.

I suppose it could be linked to the outrageous week that took place prior; I still can't believe the situation that led to the expulsion of my student, and clearly by my last post it is very frustrating to realize how easy it is to live in this world - the same greater metropolitan area, even - without ever knowing the problems or the injustice that exist on a daily basis. I will concede that I was a little under the influence during my last post, which I vow to never do again. It's difficult though to enjoy a Napa trip when the only person I see eye to eye with is the birthday girl.

I purposely waited at least a week to mention this other occurrence though, that happened just a day after the pot brownie fiasco. The principal announced over the intercom that all teachers need to meet in the theater during lunch - which anyone can tell means something serious, because as a coworker of mine would say, "This better be important or the union will hear about this. Lunchtime is OUR time." And sure enough, it was very important and very disturbing. Apparently another student had gotten expelled that morning after our on-campus policemen and security officers found a sawed-off shotgun in his locker. The thing is though, while you all may be freaking out and wondering why I'm not giving my two weeks notice right now (which totally doesn't work as teacher), I view this as a situation of community gangs breaching the school community borders. I'd be willing to bet a hefty sum of money on the fact that this kid made this (very stupid) decision to prove to some other gang member at school that he was serious and that he wasn't joking around. I guarantee that he had no intention of using the gun. At school.

Maybe it sounds like I'm in denial, but all the violence that takes place in this community is on weekend evenings in situations where there are no witnesses to get someone convicted, or, if there are witnesses, they are too scared for their lives to speak up. For instance, one of my students witnessed her own brother getting shot but for fear of her own life, she changed her last name. Richmond High can be improved in a million and one ways, but I think they have done an incredible job with keeping the interactions of the gang community out of the school community. We have boys and girls discussion groups and restorative justice circles, which are amazing (see restorative justice under wikipedia), so a shooting at school is just not a very big fear of mine.

Gangs do not scare me as much as they originally did. They are predictable, and as a coworker of mine said, "would not waste their time on conflicts with teachers." I remember my response to that statement was an awkward chuckle. What scares me more are the unstable kids. Enter Tuesday.

But before we talk about Tuesday, let's discuss a slightly funny occurrence in the class across from mine. Remember, it's the English class with all my same students. When they were in their poetry unit, this teacher's first period was not particularly thrilled about reading their poems aloud, and one student specifically mouthed off to her about how he hates poetry and doesn't give a shit about it, yada yada. At the end of the day she was telling me all of this, saying how first period "was a bunch of little assholes today" (after school is out, her language loosens). And sure enough, the kid from first period walks in, she jokingly covers her statement by asking him in fact, why he was such an asshole to her that morning, and he explains that he came to apologize. All in all, she was embarrassed, but not as embarrassed as when he told his mom and she called the school. I don't think I made it clear enough that she is an amazing teacher, and nothing like this has happened in the five years she's worked at RHS. She had to make a formal apology and everything, but after that, everything was back to normal right?

Wrong. The next unit involved reading Night by Elie Wiesel, and since these kids have absolutely no idea about the Holocaust, there is a lot of background teaching beforehand. To do this, the teacher explained prejudice and how it has existed in this world past and present, and as an activity, had all students write down some instance or occurrence they experienced or knew of that fell somewhere on the ladder of prejudice, from speech and discrimination to genocide. When everyone was leaving class, this kid approached the teacher and asked if he could put his post-it on the ladder, and, surprised that he hadn't already, she asked him where it should go. He said genocide, to which she asked what instance he was thinking of. And, with a creepy smile on his face, he said that he wanted to kill everyone at his middle school. Her dumbfounded response was, "could you be more specific?" and he said, sounding surprised that she didn't know, that that was why he was expelled from his middle school.

Now, when I say that this school district fails at organization, this is what I mean. Don't you think it would be important information for a teacher to know that one of her students has some past thoughts that could be uncovered with the discussion of the Holocaust? And sure enough, in his file, everything was written out as he said it, except that he wasn't actually expelled. With 24 days left in the school year, his middle simply told him to not come back. I love how so many people don't see the issue in passing a problem along to someone else. As a math teacher I am particularly fond of that.

Anyway, back to the story. As a teacher, she is legally obligated to inform the administration and counselors of the information she just heard, and given the intensity of the situation, the next step is to do a psych evaluation of the kid, since he is off the meds he is supposed to be taking. Keep in mind that this is the same kid who told his mother about being called an asshole and now this mother is being called to school about another interaction with this same teacher. There's a tiny bit of humor there. Clearly though, she is in denial because she told the teacher that she shouldn't have asked him about it if she didn't want to hear the answer. Yikes. Long story short, he is now doing independent study with a counselor instead of being in her class, and his mother is suing the school... or the school district. Whichever makes more sense. The disturbing part though is that the Holocaust unit clearly changed how this student holds himself, and he has been creepily hanging outside her class since this all began. THAT is scarier than a sawed-off shotgun at school. And who knows if it is related, but this teacher across the hall got her car keyed in the staff parking lot. First time it's happened to her in five years. Creepy.

Few things that happen at Richmond are surprising to me anymore, which is sad, but the next day was the cherry on top of a twilight zone week. My students in 6th period could not focus because students kept mentioning the name of one of the other teachers at school and giggling. This scenario never plays out well, so I tried to get them to spill the beans about what was so funny, but they wouldn't say. It was only after school was out that one of my Geometry students came to say how appalled she was at other students at this school to do that to such a good teacher (in my mind I'm thinking, "Do WHAT?"), and so I got the scoop from another teacher that some students had taken her phone, gotten on her email, and found NAKED PICTURES of her. I should have prefaced this by saying that this first-year TFA teacher has already been experiencing serious sexual harassment by her students, but she hasn't been able to summon the bitch inside of her to quell it. According to other female teachers, that's what it takes. By the end of the week, the comments were gone in my class, but literally the whole school knows about this, so I'm wondering how it will play out when we get back from break.

Basically I'm just trying to figure out where this sickness of mine came from. I spend five days each week in a small windowless room with some 180 kids and I don't get sick, but the moment I get time to relax, I am deathly ill. What gives? Also, $40 antibiotics is outrageous. I have to complain to someone. Still, these breaks seem to come at the perfect times, so I can't complain too much. Plus, I got nominated this week for a TFA teaching award, which was pretty cool.

By now you can tell I've got cabin fever so I'll leave you with a priceless quote from one of my ninth graders. He's applying for a program at Stanford for the summer and really needed a letter of recommendation from me. I was putting it off because I was really sick but I did it because he wouldn't stop pestering me about it, and when I sent it, I reminded him of all the ways he could make the application process run more smoothly in the future, like giving his teachers more than a few days' notice for a recommendation. By the way, I have to believe that he is a much better writer than this... I'm asking his English teacher on Monday. Funny nonetheless.

In response to receiving the letter I had written and sent him:

"thank you so very much so sorry for the trouble i cause you and please get well i don't want a substitute on Monday your voice is a little monotone but your always be better that a substitute

my regards Marco"

Wine tasting, i.e. white people party

Some people just don't get it.

What I mean is that they don't understand how good they have it or how privileged they are. I totally understand that few people get to experience the same perspective as I do, but many interactions with people this year have prompted me to wonder how he or she would survive at Richmond High. Specifically, I'm talking about the people who make absolute fools out of themselves - usually while drinking - and perpetuating a stereotype for white people.

I just got back from a trip to Napa Valley for a birthday party, and don't get me wrong, I enjoy drinking - wine especially - but I do not enjoy sharing the experience with someone who is a selfish mess. I think I'm very easily embarrassed by my peers, and somehow these days, if the person is white, I almost feel more ashamed than anything else. It's strange when the working world and the weekend world clash, and as the limo drove through Richmond on the way to Napa, I couldn't help but to realize how none of the drunk people around me knew what the community that we were passing through was like. Nor did they care, or even know where we were. For a split second I pictured us as we were, riding a party limo through Richmond, and at once I was glad we were not stopping because of the image we were setting for all white people.

I don't know if I ever wrote about it, but at the beginning of the year, I believe my students enter their classes with a belief or a fraction of a belief that in general, white people don't care about them. Many of the "white" teachers they have had are only white in relative terms; they are half Latino, or the white teachers they did have truly sucked and arguably didn't care too much about them. Needless to say, there's always some conversation that comes up about their interpretation of white people and it's usually connected with the idea of having money. It weird, because them saying this typically makes me a little proud that I'm making a mere teacher's salary. They were pretty appalled to find out that I didn't own my own house. But to be fair, when I was in high school, I never understood the whole idea of living with a roommate either.

Anyway, the party today was just too many white people that fit the stereotype mold. Is it weird to say that? I feel like this is the first time I have really been aware of my own race. I've always understood the idea of racial identity, but when it gets talked about, it's usually about minority groups. I guess spending every day in a community with a totally flipped demographic makes me hypersensitive to the impressions people make that are representative of white people in general. I don't know what conclusions should be made, but here are my observations. There are countless people in this world who are hopelessly ignorant, and countless more who take things like money for granted. The majority of people I hang out with in a social setting are white people. Therefore, the people who in my mind "just don't get it" are typically white people.

I've realized that I really value the perspective I've taken from my job, and truly respect others that take the time to view the world through someone else's eyes. But you know, some people don't look for that in their life, and it might be because they don't care, or it might be because they don't know what they're missing. I'm trying to assume the best intentions, so let's say it's the latter.

I believe that this country would be a way better place if everyone had to do some form of service at the beginning of their career. Perspective is a crazy thing.

Soccer, Drugs, and Poetry: Quite the Combo

A couple interesting things to talk about today...

First of all, the soccer season is now officially over, which means I no longer have an excuse for having poor eating and sleeping habits. It is certainly bittersweet; for one thing, it was a great experience and I feel like I could really be an effective coach of my very own team if I were able to put all my energy into it. I am a better soccer player on my own team now, and I have a good relationship with pretty much all the JV players. A couple of them are in my classes, so the good relationship killed two birds with one stone. That being said, I'll be the first to admit that I haven't complained this much since the beginning of my teaching stint. You might say that that was not that long ago, but for the craziness that happens daily on the job, I'd say that it was a VERY long time ago. Since the beginning of November I have been saying that I really like coaching except for the fact that it is killing me slowly but surely. In all likelihood, the limited amounts of sleep each night for the last three months have actually probably taken a few years off. I'm sure the sodium level in my revised freezer food diet contributes just as much, so my first resolution is to start eating real food again.

It is going to be hard to explain to the other coaches that I can't be involved next year, but the fact of the matter is that I could have been such a better teacher these last few months. It kills me to think of where my students could be right now if only I had had the time to hold mandatory tutoring after school for students who really needed it back in Chapter 3. Then again, it would have killed me to not do the coaching bit and wonder what I could have been like. I think I can be good at both positions, teaching and coaching, but not at the same time. It wasn't too hard to realize this fact after thinking about my endless weeks of emergency lesson planning on the day of each lesson. I truly am blessed with luck to have always had an effective plan by the time the bell rang each period. There were some nail-biter days, but I made it through without any scars, so I call that a success. Naturally, I now think that I will have SO much extra time to do all the things I could never get done before, but now that soccer is truly over, I can feel myself thinking of all the procrastination tactics that I never had time for before. Isn't that pathetic? The one saving grace I guess for the last three months was that I must have been pretty efficient at getting things done. I've been in "oh shit" mode this entire time and the way I can tell is that I woke up this morning sick for the first time this entire school year. You can usually tell when I have just gotten over a very stressful experience because I'm either sick or have canker sores and/or acne.

The coaches I worked with were very knowledgeable about soccer tactics and practice strategies, and I now have a way better tactical view of the game. It was also very interesting to be involved with a primarily Hispanic/Latino soccer team to see how they play, their strengths and weaknesses, and their perspectives of the game. For one, it is a common thought in these kids' heads that the referee is racist, which was very interesting to me. There were actually many times where I couldn't decide if the referee was appearing to harbor a little racism or if he was simply one of the worst refs I've ever seen. As a coach I felt more and more like I was able to empathize with the players. This is especially the case because our away games often reminded me how different my primarily white upper-middle class high school experience was, and all I could think about was how the other team's families in the stands probably have absolutely no idea the kind of world our players live in. I could go on and on about living in close quarters with way too many people with not enough money and no health care, but I think I'll leave it at that. I take a little pride from being able to sit with our team and laugh at the fact that two home games were rescheduled to be earlier so that the away team wouldn't have to be in Richmond so late. They have no idea. But I guess if you view your surroundings based on how the local news presents it to you, you're just plain ignorant. Plus, our local news is laughable in how awful it is.

And this segues perfectly into the story of yesterday. We are on a Monday hot-streak this month, but this one takes the cake. To preface, I will remind you that all of my students also share the same English teacher, so in second period English yesterday, one of my students pleaded with the teacher to get a drink of water because his mouth felt dry and numb and he was beginning to feel nauseous. To any slightly experienced teacher, this screams DRUGS right away, and coincidentally, it was nearly identical to the incident earlier in the year when one of my students took ecstasy right before English class as well. As it turned out, he was high on marijuana, but it was because of a pot brownie he had been given. Despite what your first impressions might be, this kid had never done any drugs or anything like this before, so when shit hit the fan and his parents, the school administration and the police were involved, he was sobbing, half because of the fact that he still had such an intense body high and was still nauseous. It turned out being only the tip of the iceberg though, because there was a huge investigation into where he got it, which turned into a ridiculous list of "he/she gave it to me," involving some 15 students. In the end, all signs pointed to a student in my class with a B average who was a great kid with no behavior problems ever. I still can't believe that he was the one selling pot brownies on campus for $8 a pop. He admitted it though, and apparently he's been doing it for some four months now! There is even one girl who needs counseling now because she thinks she is addicted to the brownies. The worst part about it though is the back-story to why this kid has turned drug-dealer. According to him, and I totally believe him, his dad has been making him sell them to turn a profit. Apparently somebody owes his dad a lot of money, and the only way he can pay him is in pounds of weed. Hence the pot brownies. Of course, when the dad got called in, he denied it all; I don't know what to think about that. Personally, I would say that it is his fault that his son is now expelled from Richmond High. Usually teachers can vouch for students in cases where a student is caught doing something totally uncharacteristic, but since he's been dealing at school for so long, there is nothing that can be done. It's sad. He had such potential. This place never ceases to amaze me.

I'd rather end on a happy note though, so I thought one of my student's poems from English class would be nice to share. The structure of the poem was the same for all students, but it's still pretty awesome and it really highlights the importance of diversity in a child's educational experience. Of course, the English teacher has told me that she wishes the assignment had more of an impact on disrespectful comments in class...

Just because I'm Mexican

Doesn't mean you have the right to call me a "beaner"

Doesn't mean I eat tacos, burritos, and tamales

And doesn't mean I drink.

Just because I'm Mexican

Doesn't mean I only speak Spanish

Doesn't mean I can't learn new stuff

And talk funny with an accent.

Just because I'm Mexican

Doesn't mean there is a party at my house every day with loud Mexican music

Doesn't mean I will end up in a fast-food restaurant or a low-paying job

And certainly doesn't mean I need to have a darker skin tone.

Just because I'm Mexican

Why do you boss me around?

Why do you call me names that make me feel bad?

Why do you treat me differently

Just because I'm Mexican

The poetry unit in English is the time of year that I learn the most about my students simply from the things they write. The English teacher shares some of them with me, but most students do not hesitate to read their poems aloud to the rest of the class or to hang them on the wall for everyone to see. Right now they are doing a poem about their life, and it reads, "If you could live my life, you would see... you would hear... you would smell... you would feel... you would taste... if you could live my life." I've said it once and I'll say it again: it's amazing the amount of larger-than-life adult-sized problems that these kids deal with on a daily basis.

Darn it. I really tried to end on a happy note.

:)

There.