4 zillion

news

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 21:21:00 +0000

I'm going to miss browsing the news online if the rumors are true about Rupert Murdoch. That said, I have a friend who writes for AP, and he deserves to get paid fairly for his work. Hopefully the largest sources of news will still keep a few teaser stories or headlines up for the news voyeurs like me.

Be aggressive

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 05:49:00 +0000

My daughter won--no, received--a completely undeserved trophy for her "participation" on a youth soccer league this year. I know I sound like a horrible mother for scare-quoting my own daughter, but you weren't there to strap the shinguards on a wailing kindergartner and to give 95 versions of the same speech: "We signed up, we have to go.... Do it for the team! ...You don't have to be perfect--just try your hardest... Your goal should be to try to kick the ball two times today.... If you stop screaming and kicking me, you'll get a juicebox at the end of the game." Her best was to sit on the sidelines and cheer on her friends. I signed up only because she begged me, and I would have been perfectly happy to have the only child who never kicked the ball on the team. (She did kick it once during the last game. It floored me.) The lack of aggression didn't bother me; it was her complete antipathy that was difficult. It got so bad that I just started calling her the "goalie" in a division that isn't supposed to have goalies. It was the only way I could justify her standing in one place the whole time.

Although soccer seems to be a rite of passage in our small SoCal town (even I played 4 years as a kid), I'm not saddened that she won't be joining a team next year. For someone who loves competition, I am appalled by the behavior of a few vocal parents, overzealous coaches yelling at children, and this YouTube video:

That said, I am wholeheartedly in favor of excessive aggression when it involves a quadriplegic. Not kidding. This is rugby in raw form.

On holiday

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 19:21:00 +0000

L woke me up this morning to announce that banks are closed today. L is five. Somehow, this important fact is of pressing importance. She asked me if there were holidays when the dinosaurs roamed the earth. I explained that there were no holidays because dinosaurs didn't have days of the week or months. In fact, they didn't keep track of time. They were as unaffected by bank holidays as a five-year-old is today.

Why do we keep track of time? If I remember my Daniel Boorstin correctly, it's to guide our productivity and to give us all the illusion of accomplishment even when the task at hand is not quite finished. That certainly describes the way I'm spending my Veteran's Day: grading an infinite pile of notebook paper reminiscent of this Ig Nobel scientific experiment.

mastery

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 04:33:00 +0000

It's nice to have a job in education that rewards employees based on their education. It would be even better if the masters teaching programs were more robust, relevant, and reflective. Currently, I think far too many educational graduate degree programs are exercises in disciplined budgeting and tedious prescriptive assignments that lack authenticity.

Maybe teachers of teachers are doomed to be so horrible because teachers themselves make ornery students.

Support

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 20:32:00 +0000

It is heartening to know about the programs and resources here in California for college-bound students who come from difficult, often contentious backgrounds. Regardless what you think about undocumented students, or more frequently legal citizens who are minors with undocumented parents, I'm glad to know that there are laws to help students follow the path towards legalization and resident status as well as clear rules about what aid they are not eligible for (all state & federal).

But what really impressed me was the system in place for students from foster care. I took for granted the luxury of coming home during winter break in college, but these students are not always so lucky. Besides scholarships and grants to help with tuition and living expenses, guaranteed housing, and academic support, these campus clubs also provide a mentorship program and much-needed social activities. I am thinking of a few students in particular and all that I can do to change the statistics. 70% of kids in foster care report wanting to go to college, but they are graduating at a low rate of 20%.

The good news is that the achievement gap between ethnic and racial groups is decreasing. I know that I can have a very real impact on a handful of students. Taking just a little extra time to help someone in a "special population" is not only doable but the right thing to do.

conferences

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 02:18:00 +0000

And now, we'd like to introduce the most important speaker of all: the outstanding teacher who does everything that you're supposed to be doing and more, who inspires not just his own students but anyone who comes within 50 feet of his charismatic vibe, and who has no social life or family left. Let's give him a round of applause.

controversy

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 04:32:00 +0000

I had a guest speaker on Tuesday. He talked about personal responsibility, work ethic, goal-setting, and civic service. It caused quite a bit of controversy, I guess, but my students ate up every word Obama spoke. It was a small class of seniors who will be first-generation college students. The words about growing up in a single-parent family, not having enough money, and making the extra effort to wake up earlier, work harder, and dream that impossible dream hit home with this group.

Surprisingly, it hit home with me, too. This was not a dramatic speech. nor was it particularly original or shocking. What struck me most was the sincerity of these ideas and how deeply I believed them. It's not just an idle speech to wonder how American students will and have contributed to society at large. In fact, as Obama mentioned the students sitting "in your place" 20 years ago, I realized--yep, that was me. Our generation who takes credit for Google, Facebook, and Twitter. In fact my friend Paul from high school is a developer for one of the afore-mentioned companies, and I reconnected with him just recently using one of the afore-mentioned services. That's me.

We saw ourselves in his words. And we saw him. Afterwards, a girl in my class said, I've never heard a president talk to me and talk like he understood me. It is a nice rhetorical move and a darn effective one to buy credibility with one's own personal story. Remind me again, why is this controversial?

Meanwhile, a respected colleague completely baffled me just a day later with her shocking story about how she glimpsed a license plate that read: NO GOD. Seriously? That's shocking? She doesn't know that there are atheists in the world? She's about as secular as you get in this tiny conservative town, but even she said she felt like she should be offended that the state of California allowed that plate. I couldn't even reply because I didn't have a clue where people were coming from. I've always grown up around atheists and have assumed that t-shirts reading "God is dead" are just as much part of life as, oh, the ichthus. My liberal-minded friends around the table made snide comments like, "That's awfully brazen to claim that there's no god at all" and "Maybe they'd have a better car than a Civic if they did believe in God." What? The narrator went on to explain how she wanted to take a picture on her cell phone but didn't want to crash, so instead she just called her husband with the news that she was tailgating someone about to be struck by lightning.

What amazes me is that both of these stories come as surprises to me. Yet again, I take for granted a set of shared values and expectations that others do not. It's a good eye-opener for me, though slightly disheartening. At the end of the day, as I lie down to sleep hopeful, but without a prayer, I think I'd rather live in a society engaging in healthy debate about banal topics than in one that accepts dogmatic statements without question.

The Terminator

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 05:06:00 +0000

It's never a good sign when the governor makes a special trip to your neck of the woods to pat everyone on the back for fighting the good fight and to survey the mess of your community that has now been declared a state of emergency.

By the way, Twitter is the best local news source I've ever seen in my life. I have our regional paper to thank for recognizing the beauty of a dozen 2-line stories and a few tinyurls over producing a newspaper that I actually want to buy. I'd pay to get Twitter feeds if it meant knowing that the fire raging down the street was 40% contained instead of wading through the mess of LA-area "coverage."

The good news: no deaths to report in our area. Other damage is harder to assess right now. I could smell the smoke in my daughter's hair when I hugged her this afternoon.

31

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 03:41:00 +0000

Here it comes. It didn't occur to me until last week that this year my age matches my birth date. I'm going to Baskin-Robbins to celebrate.

writing self-inventory

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 01:15:00 +0000

I'm planning to ask these questions to my students, but first, I'm very curious to see how you guys reply. Any answer, even for a few questions, would be much appreciated.

1. How often do you write (defined in the broadest sense, not limited to blogging)?

2. What types of writing do you do?

3. Where, besides school or work, do you write?

4. What kind of writing do you do there?

5. Do you like to write?

6. Why or why not?

7. Of the things you have written, what do you like best?

8. Why do you like them best?

9. Is anything about writing difficult for you?

10. Why do you think it is dificult?

11. How important is learning to write well?

12. Why do you think this?

sigh

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 02:13:00 +0000

Enough of the doldrums. It's summer and I'm determined to enjoy it. Or at least the three days out of seven that I'm not teaching summer school. :)

Good stuff going on:

Saw "Hangover" and laughed hysterically. I usually avoid physical and crass humor (probably the only person you know who can't stand "Something About Mary"), but I walked into this movie needing a ridiculous, stupid story.

My mom came to visit and took lots of adorable photos of the grandkids. I'm choosing one to pick out for my classroom as soon as I finish this post.

I started swimming again. The silence of the pool is beautiful.

Old men and seas

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 22:27:00 +0000

In the last week of school, my students read this short novel. Why? they asked. Because it is good, I said. Because it is an easy read with a lot to think about. Because it offers perspective fitting for the end of the year.

As I read it with them, I came to my own epiphany. I am afraid that one day my tenacity will kill me. I am not very good at letting go. I don't want to end my life with nothing to show save the carcass of something great.

No Exit

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 03:24:00 +0000

Hell is not other people, it is needing other people. Take the extreme case. I can't imagine the horror of being trapped in my own body without being able to control my own physical movements, make my own decisions, or communicate unaided. If it is true that our greatest strength can be our greatest weakness, that is certainly the truth with cooperation.

My husband has been playing the video game Spore. He pointed out that my 5-year-old logic of herbivores=good and carnivores=bad is flawed in more ways than one. Carnivores are apparently much more cooperative animals than herbivores. Huh. The cynic in me says that relying so much on others justifies the need to kill other sentient creatures now and then.

Bartleby

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Wed, 27 May 2009 05:27:00 +0000

My husband and I are a bit like Turkey and Nippers of the "Bartleby" story. When one is up, the other down. And yet the balance functions-to a degree.

cracking

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Thu, 21 May 2009 01:35:00 +0000

I hate not being in control of myself. I have a coworker, the first person I've ever met in my life to overtly despise me, who makes a big deal about how tough she is and how hard her life is. Remind me never to do that.

There are two hairline cracks in our kitchen tile. It's a new house, some shifting and expanding of the concrete is to be expected. I didn't worry. Last year, a contractor friend of ours was over and shook his head when he saw the cracks, saying, "That's really bad." He predicted that the crack would slowly spread across the floor, maybe over the course of a year or two. I'm happy to report that it is exactly the same size today. Now we're just waiting for the Big One that makes Sunday's mag 5 in LA look tiny.

naming

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Tue, 19 May 2009 01:48:00 +0000

To name is to know.

"We cut nature up, organize it into concepts, and ascribe significances as we do, largely because we are parties to an agreement to organize it in this way—an agreement that holds throughout our speech community and is codified in the patterns of our language." -Benjamin Lee Whorf

And, I would add, in names.

As a mediocre but persistent athlete, a student, a teacher, a colleague, and a mom, I know the power of using someone's name. People calling my name have made me run faster, try harder, and listen more carefully.

I'm lucky that so far remembering students' names hasn't been too difficult. When I proctored the standardized test for another teacher's students a month ago, I learned their names quickly even while they rarely spoke. Now they say hi to me between classes.

My pet peeve is a colleague calling me solely by my last name. As in, "How does it feel to lose, Phelps?" At first it didn't bother me when I taught in another district--just felt like I was on a sports team all the time. Then I realized that the reason people called each other by last names is because the turnover rate was so high that no one bothered to learn everyone's first names.

Names are intimate.

My relatives, particularly ones I see rarely, cycle through the family tree when they talk to me. I get called by the names of my mother, my grandmother, my cousins, you name it. (Excuse the pun.) I admit that I've done the same even in my own immediate family, usually when I'm reacting quickly out of annoyance.

Naming goes beyond simply showing someone that you remember. In fact, I eavesdropped with interest on the conversation of a consultant/teacher at a certain popular coffee shop. He complained that the class he taught met so rarely that it was always difficult to remember names. "I know who they are," he insisted. "I know about them, their personalities, their interests, their families, how they write ... but I forget their names." Despite reviewing the list quickly before each class, he confessed that there were plenty of awkward moments in which he couldn't use their names. "But they all remember my name," he ended a bit guiltily.

I know that guilt of getting it wrong. I remember how it felt as a top student in the class getting called by someone else's name and thinking that this teacher obviously thought I wasn't important enough to remember. Even when it was an obvious mistake, I distanced myself from that class for the rest of the year.

Last Thursday, with only a few weeks left in the school year, I distributed graduation stoles to a group of seniors being recognized in an academic ceremony. Each stole had the student's name embroidered on one side. It's amazing how important that personalization (worth a whopping $2) was to them. And yet, two names were misspelled. Today I returned those stoles to our vendor to get them fixed. After four years of high school and innumerable hoops to jump, the least we can do is get their names right.

learned a new word

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Sun, 17 May 2009 03:11:00 +0000

roue:

Etymology:
French, literally, broken on the wheel, from past participle of rouer to break on the wheel, from Medieval Latin rotare, from Latin, to rotate; from the feeling that such a person deserves this punishment
Date:
1800

: a man devoted to a life of sensual pleasure : rake
(From Merriam-Webster online)

...which led me to wonder about the etymology of "rake."

"debauchee," 1653, shortening of rakehell (1547), possibly an alteration (by association with rake (1) and Hell) of M.E. rakel (adj.) "hasty, rash, headstrong," probably from raken "to go, proceed," from O.E. racian, of unknown origin. Rakish first recorded 1706.

(From Online Etymology Dictionary)

But my favorite neologism was coined Friday by a student, unaware that such a word already exists in the Urban Dictionary:

euphobia

see no evil

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Thu, 14 May 2009 04:15:00 +0000

It's not often that I side with the Justice Department over the ACLU. Obama is reversing a pledge of transparency to release photos of U.S. troops abusing prisoners. I can't say I blame him. If the culprits are already tried and sentenced, and the release of such photos is likely to do more harm to an already tarnished image abroad, then perhaps it is a good security decision.

Maybe this issue simply comes down to trust. If the Bush administration had pulled a similar move, using similar arguments, I admit that I would have been skeptical. The executive office under people like Cheney and Libby kept a lot of secrets, and I would have been convinced that this was another example. If they aren't releasing the photos, what else might they be hiding?

On the other hand I trust Obama's administration, for better or worse. While civil rights advocates are incensed about broken promises and hypocrisy, I LIKE having a president who is intelligent enough to admit when he made a poor decision and is willing to have the courage to change his mind. It's amazing the logical tricks a mind will play to cover an emotional response.

Besides not being able to see these pictures, our family is enduring our tiny version of being visually restrained. I guess J was so inspired by the Dodgers game on Saturday that when I woke up Sunday morning at a leisurely 7 a.m., I discovered that he had pitched a metallic object into the LCD television. Needless to say, it no longer works. The shock of losing $1000 or more in a single blow is still sinking in. Honestly, I'm just grateful the tv didn't fall over, the house was not on fire, and I didn't spend the rest of mother's day in urgent care.

Now, our house has been free of tv for a good three solid days. We've made puzzles, played in the backyard (even weeded), gone for a walk, read more, and built innumerable castles out of innumerable objects. I hate to admit it but I also pay more attention to them now that I know they are capable of disaster at any moment. Today, I was amused to catch L talking on an imaginary phone with someone and then claiming that she had to rush off and build a house. That led to much rushing around the living room making bizarre movements with her hands and legs as she assembled the imaginary building. It's nice to see my kids use their imagination, not to mention get a little exercise.

Think blue

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Sun, 10 May 2009 03:26:00 +0000

Today I learned that a shutout is not just a big win but a win that doesn't allow any scoring. It wasn't a no-hitter today, but the Dodgers game was definitely a shutout.

When I told my students last week about planning to see the game, they wisely suggested we avoid sitting next to drunk people. Then one offered to loan me his jersey. Dodgers fans are a special glimpse into LA culture, not necessarily the best glimpse. Nonetheless, the camaraderie of strangers wearing blue and singing "Take me out to the ball game" has its appeal.

Halfway through the fifth inning, my daughter suggested that we go do something fun. Guess she's not a baseball fan. I've never been a huge fan of the pacing in baseball, but this game moved along pretty quickly. Sweltering under the sun and leaning back into the bleachers, I realized that I shouldn't think about it as Sport, the way I actively participated in college sports. This was Recreation, like heading to the beach except with peanuts, dancing, and a big screen tv.

In the parking lot, we ran into a sophomore in one of my classes. I'm starting to feel like a Dodgers fan.

words, words, words

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Thu, 07 May 2009 12:44:00 +0000

At the end of yesterday's class, I had written these words on the board:

non|conformity
decipher
sifr --> zefiro --> 0
Yiddish
kvetch
chutspa
Orpheus
epiphany
epiphaneia (in Gr. letters)

tenure

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Sun, 03 May 2009 22:40:00 +0000

I can't resist commenting on today's LA Times article: "Firing tenured teachers can be a costly and tortuous task".

Perhaps it is in poor taste to publish such an article deeply critical of the traditional job security in K-12 education when over 27,000 California teachers were pink-slipped this year, to say nothing of the counselors, administrators, bus drivers, and office workers who also lost their jobs. Or, at a moment when so many good teachers are out of work, this might be exactly the time to reconsider the way such decisions are made. Why fire the second-year art teacher who implemented the school's first ceramics class and stays after school countless hours to help organize the junior class prom when there's an algebra I teacher who snaps at students with sarcastic humor, refuses to spend time out of class tutoring those who ask for help, and hasn't varied his lesson plans since 1989? This is hypothetical of course.

I read this article and winced. Multiple times. We do need a revision to the system of education but not one that comes from people seeking to destroy public education. We do need to rethink the process of arbitrating complaints and protecting a teacher's job security, but not when a student has to go weeks or even months without an appropriately-credentialed teacher in the classroom.

Tenure is a comfortable practice. It stems from good intentions of protecting academic freedom and rewarding those with valuable experience. It also needs to be changed.

To give an example, a nameless teacher called in sick to his/her job the second week of school. This practice continued until the district became involved, the union became involved, doctors notes were involved, parents were involved, and students waited not-so-patiently with their twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth substitute. Needless to say, school security and the assistant principal also became very involved in the classroom. The teacher never returned. A credentialed long-term sub was finally legally able to be hired over spring break. The teacher has not been fired, and it is unlikely that the district will press for termination due to the time, expense, and rigid criteria for firing teachers. No matter what the situation of the teacher, that is gross negligence. As angry as the students and the parents were, the person's colleagues were equally incensed. They were the ones dealing with the overflowing discipline problems, the wave of transferring students, and even creating the daily lesson plans, reading the homework, and submitting all the paperwork for students' grades.

I take pride in my profession, and I believe that a job that requires such skill, energy, ingenuity and experience can be measured in more than years.

Nudge

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Sun, 03 May 2009 04:30:00 +0000

I'm very much enjoying this book. In fact, I've probably spent as much time talking about it with other people as actually reading it. Now I need to figure out how to nudge my students to turn in their homework on time.

the kindness of sophomores

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Fri, 01 May 2009 02:03:00 +0000

I love my students and the odd group personalities that form among each different class.

May 3

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 04:58:00 +0000

I was going to run a marathon. My sister-in-law and I both signed up months ago. She was planning to run in Cincinnatti, and I would have run in Newport Beach. Neither of us will run now. She has a severe hip injury that could take years to heal. I had my own drama last week, not to mention that running in the first trimester of pregnancy is likely to overheat the body and cause harm to the baby. I had heard that dropping out of a marathon plan was more common than completing the race. I was determined to be smart and patient with my training, not to back out for lack of desire, and to wake up as early as I needed to in order to get the long weekend runs in without dumping all the parenting responsibility on my husband. Yet, life intervened.

Half of me, the angry part, is tempted to run the damn thing anyway. I have a masochistic desire to put my body through as much hell as it has caused me. I still have an untouched bottle of Tylenol with codine that might have come in handy. Unfortunately, I'm not that angry and I do enjoy being able to walk.

At my husband's half-marathon 2 weeks after I stopped running, my hormones got the better of me and I cried with envy. I was so proud and inspired and disappointed that my own life had veered off in another direction. Now, I'm saddened for all the opposite reasons, wishing I still had that awkward bump and that reason to look ahead nine months. Even if I really wanted to run (if just around the block), the prospect of simply lacing up shoes now seems like an unbearable task.

So now I'm just left with the decision of whether or not to still pick up the souveneir t-shirt. What do you do when you want something so badly and then worry that you never deserved it in the first place? Not really talking about the shirt here, am I?

Ren fair

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 03:29:00 +0000

On the spur of the moment, we drove out to the Renaissance Festival in Irwindale on Sunday. It was a much needed distraction. Surrounded by drunkards, pirates, and busty women thrusting their wares at you, escapism comes naturally.

A sweet little redheaded fairy accompanied by her father in full plate armor greeted visitors at the ticket booth. She came skipping over to our little boy and bent down in the muddy grass to hand him a blue glass bead: "Give this to the young lady who catches your eye and she will be yours forever. Girls like shiny things." My son had no clue what was going on, but he took care to put it in his pocket and say thank you.

Renaissance Festivals are an odd cross-section of historical anachronisms, people obsessed with very big swords, neopaganism, and knick-knacks. Did I mention the not-so-subtle overtones of drunkenness, violence, and sex? Can't miss that. And yet, it's a good place to take your children on the weekend.

L got her hair braided with bunches of flowers and multicolored ribbons; J bought a wooden sword to fight off the dragons. The music was excellent, the weather was mild, and the crowds were much too polite for LA. My favorite part was our crowd-control woman at the joust. When her neighbor took a break, she was left rushing back and forth between two sections: egging us on to boo for a knight while wildly gesturing for cheers and applause from the group a few seats over. No, wait, that was topped by someone hawking "the Coach bag of the Renaissance!" (wooden beer mugs).

J fell asleep in my arms and we went home sunburned and smiling.