Figures

Are you a Dot, a Line, or a Squiggle?

At today's teacher in-service I did a dramatic reading of The Dot and the Line to illustrate the four phases of the Interactive Reading Method which was integrated into the Caluco workshops I did in El Salvador.

1. Literal Phase -- who/what/where/why/when
2. Personal/Interpretative Phase -- do you know anyone who feels ...? What would have happened if ...? 
3. Inferential/Multicultural Phase -- how could have ______ been avoided? Have you or anyone you know ever experienced ...? How might you have reacted if ...?
4. Creative Phase -- write a story of what happened afterward; draw a picture or character profile of your favorite part; perform a play/monologue/song in the voice of one of the characters.

It was compelling to see the light in my colleague's eyes as the story progressed, and to see who sided with either the dot or the line. Seeing their enthusiasm in guessing what would happen next rejuvenated me and renewed my energy for the classroom tomorrow.

But first I've gotta grade these quizzes... :-P

27

I'm happy to say that I'm going to be turning 27. It's pretty special stuff since 27 is a cubed number (3^3 = 27), and Cubic Birthdays are something to make a big deal out of.

Cubic Birthdays are something experienced so rarely; the last time was 19 years ago when I turned 8 (2^3), and won't experience again for another 37 years, "when I'm 64" (4^3), and if I'm lucky enough, 61 years after that will give me 125 (5^3) years.

(Note: Isn't it cool how the difference between each of these cubed numbers is prime?)

I just want to keep this blog entry short and sweet -- this past year at 26 (nothing too special; just a multiple of 13) held so many fun memories, comprised of a few major "firsts:"

• First year contributing to the Horrorthon blog
• First trip out of the country to El Salvador
• First time to the southwest (Albuquerque, NM) -- also my first time traveling alone, with the exception of road trips from the SF Bay Area to Ukiah to visit my parents.

A fun "second:"

• Second year attending San Francisco's Zombie Prom

And a continuation of other things like Yoga, knitting and my career as an educator. Such great things life is made of, folks.

I was proud of this pina I acquired in Suchitoto.

1 of 2 proms we attended that year -- this was for my school; the second...

... Zombie Prom! It's gonna be hard to top the KISS zombies.

One achievement I'm proud of was supporting the 2011 graduates on their trip to Disneyland and Universal Studios (not JUST 'cause I got to go with them...)

My favorite photo of 2011 -- and it's spectacular coming from my archaic phone. I got the opportunity to participate in the SF Exploratorium's Teacher Institute and got to see this every morning.

Real-life in the movies

(Alternate title to this blog entry: My Brain Takes an Intellectual Dump After Watching 27 Horror Movies in October, then Overcompensating with Documentaries and Dramas)

Two years ago I happened upon the documentary Crips and Bloods: Made in America in my local video rental store (before it closed down). I didn't rent it at the time but watched it for free online (feeding the monster that closed down the rental store in the first place). Later on I rented Crips and Bloods from Netflix (that monster's fattening up real good) to show to students and begin a discussion about gang mentality and its long-term effects. The film itself is filled with amazing, insightful quotes and observations about oppression, discrimination, and the extent the mainstream press will go to create an illusion of safety for the general public living in the 'burbs away from all the "trouble."

Working at a school where wearing solid reds or blues violates the dress code, and working with youth that, for the most part, lack a perspective of the history of the gangs of which they are a part (or that they fear -- in the abstract, everyday, etc.) opened up a lot of doors for communication. I didn't document everything that was said but I remember they made very acute observations and that some connected the intellectual dots that lay before them, when they might not have been encouraged to before.

I'd recommend anyone and everyone watch Crips and Bloods. Yes, it was heart-breaking, but it was also a hard-hitting and exposing of a reality that a whole helluva lot of people aren't exposed to either out of privilege or due to location. Although I spent seven or eight years of my childhood living in the vicinity of a maximum-security prison, there was never the threat of violence or danger. (Just ignorant "rednecks.")

I'm not promising any answers about where gang violence originates, I've just been slowly watching more movies that confront it through the eyes of African-American youth, particularly boys. Earlier this year I watched, and re-watched Boyz N The Hood with Cuba Gooding, Jr. and Ice Cube. It was the perfect film to accompany Crips and Bloods.

This past weekend I had the chance to see Fresh, another amazing film about a 12 year-old boy (amazing acting done by Sean Nelson) doing what he needs to survive living in the projects of Brooklyn.

A Wiki listing of 'hood films is here, and I feel compelled to stock up my queue knowing full well that not all of them will deliver as Fresh did, or represent the demographic in the same light as Boyz, but it's worth it to look. Although each of these movies I've seen has broadened my perspective and knowledge of living in a world of gangs/drugs/other shit, I can't help but feel like I'm "studying" this subject of humanity as if a student enrolled in a classroom, keeping myself at an appropriate distance from the location and population I'm "researching."

Don't get me wrong, I'm not about to move to a poverty-stricken neighborhood in hopes of conducting an anthropological ethnography -- but I also don't plan on merely watching movies to educate myself. I feel lucky to work in a setting where I can engage in powerful, sometimes painful one-on-one conversations with teens about their past experiences or the present fears. Not every child is living this tough life, but the overall feeling of allowing youth to voice their opinions when they are not always able to is gratifying.

If ever there was a moment when I had to abandon my college career in math, I think I would have fallen back either on Spanish studies or cultural anthropology. Spanish is pretty easy for me (at least I don't have to overly exert myself), but Anthro involves a lot of critical thinking and connecting these dots, putting yourself in another's shoes (they call that "cultural relativism").

What further inspired me towards working class struggles was reading The Broken Fountain by Thomas Belmonte. It was required reading, and, in addition to monthly protests against state university fee hikes and the military presence at career fairs (mandated by the Solomon Amendment), The Broken Fountain was a perfect stepping stone towards my out-of-classroom education on the ins and outs of class war.





Later on I accumulated Resistance Behind Bars,

How Nonviolence Protects the State (download as .pdf here),










and several articles from Bitch Magazine

The article entitled, "I'm not a feminist, but. . ." is amazing.

(especially one analyzing the class disparity between vampires/elite and werewolves/lower-class in popular culture), among others.

October's Over -- Freakin' Finally!

Just kidding -- I wish it could've lasted forever!

For the first time I participated in Horrorthon, a blog put together by one of my favorite people and many of his favorite people. You watch horror movies during the month of October, post reviews, then read and comment on others' reviews. Sounds pretty freakin' sweet. Except I became really behind in work, and in the middle of moving from one tiny room to the next.

Here are my posted reviews thus far:
1. Insidious
2. Suspiria
3. Troll Hunter
4. She-Wolf of London
5. Rosemary's Baby
6. Amusement
7. I Saw The Devil
8. The Birds
9. 13 Hours in a Warehouse
10. Blood Harvest
11. The Tomb of Ligeia

Not a review but a summary of Zombie Prom 2011!

There's about, oh, 16 more to write! I'm pretty damn proud of myself for making it this far on a first year's run. Maybe that number will double next year??

"You're going to be a helluva ______ someday."

I remember once a long time ago I was up for 18+ hours moving crap from one apartment unit to two doors down. My then-roommate and I had had our ceiling cave in from all the recent downpour. There were few moments during that day-and-a-half stretch where I stopped to think. I was always moving, moving, moving. Hauling, hauling, hauling. I recall little of what my then-roommate did but that doesn't mean that she did nothing. I remember making sure everyone was comfortable, making sure that everything was taken care of, everything was put back in place in the new unit as it was in the old one (they were cookie-cutter apartments; one looking exactly like the last).

I remember making sure that everyone had enough to eat.

I've always made sure that everyone is comfortable.

I also remember never wondering when it'd be over. I was just moving, moving, moving. My head would turn but it would be hours before I felt the impact of the wind on my face. Hours before feeling dizzy from the dance of Lifting Heavy Shit, transitioning to Where Did That Go Before?, finishing with a triple-dose of Whatever Happened To My ____?

After the ordeal was over I was carried up to my room. Told to rest. My new room looked exactly like the old one and was arranged as such. Bed in the corner, closet in the opposite wall. Nobody asked me if I was comfortable, if I needed anything, but I remember being content at the very most.

After the ordeal was over I remember cooking breakfast for two. I don't remember if it was scrambled eggs or cereal. I just remember saying that I was tired, and hearing a response that – for better or worse – still echoes in my brain:

“You're going to be a helluva mother someday.”

That was almost six years ago. Every now and again I think back to that quote with pride. I think back to those words that came from kindness and I feel foolish for being offended. At the time I didn't understand how someone could view me solely as a baby-making machine, producing little people and running (or waddling) around making sure everyone was fed and comfortable and taken care of. I had no maternal instinct at 21. You say you fell down? It ain't the end of the world. You want a candy bar instead of a lollipop? Fuck off.

Needless to say I feel different now, but only by about 80%. It's still in my instincts to react in the ways mentioned above, but I feel more of a need to protect. Keep safe from physical and emotional dangers. Project my prospects and hopes and dreams in the young 'uns for whom I see so much potential, not to mention that I see them everyday. I can't exactly tell them that if they don't do x-y-z they'll end up like me because I think I'm a damn good role model. I'd like to think that, in the event of procreating mini C-Maths, that they'd be just as creative and thoughtful and passionate as I'd ever hoped myself to turn out with every shred of my being. All the while being well-looked after, advocated for, and comfortable.

. . . Or maybe I'm just losing my edge.

A Mental Block

This is meant as an addendum[b] to my previous post. As of late I've been feeling sluggish and not able to copy & paste my thoughts from my brain to words in paper/blog form. Whether it was a result of working too much or a brain-fart of epic proportions, I'll never know.

What I DO know is that I've found temporary reassurance in my writing abilities as a new contributor to the Horrorthon blog. Thus far in the month I've seen & reviewed Insidious and Suspiria.

I can already see that contributing to Horrorthon combines two things that I've always cherished: being opinionated and watching movies. Also when I was young I envied Roger Ebert (actually I still kinda do).

Who still wants to be a teacher?

"Ms. Crystal, do teachers really get fired if their students do bad on the CST*?"

*gulp*

Why, yes, that's a harsh reality that many teachers knowingly face every day. Sometimes I wonder, with all the bureaucracy and paperwork, long hours and loopholes we've got to jump through each day, with the added pressure of pleasing parents and terrible 'tweenaged young people -- who still wants to be a teacher?

*cst = California Standards Test, also known as the STAR test, also known as that document that you bubble in your answers.

TEACHING & YOUR CRANIUM
I've been thinking quite a bit about how teaching affects or re-wires one's brain. What would a picture of my brain look like when I graduated college? What would it look like now? When I was taking those classes and interacting with people, challenging myself to further my own education, I felt like I could stretch my brain every which way, late into the night, in philosophical meanderings with like-minded folks. Now I need to forcibly separate myself from my gradebook, the textbooks from which I teach, and my email account filled with work-related topics and questions from eager students, and sometimes I find it hard to find the multi-syllabic words needed to convey my feelings about an issue.

For one, as a teacher you MUST adapt quickly to a new set of parameters each day. At least in my situation, during my first year it felt like every day brought a new set of rules and restrictions about what we could or couldn't do. One day a teacher would be out and my prep time would be sacrificed in order to cover for them; during lunch a student comes in asking for help, or consolation, both of which I immediately comply. I know it sounds cheesy but I get a lot of gratification in knowing that my words and anecdotes of struggle and success help a kid get through the next few hours. Or days. Or weeks. Or maybe not at all.

Time spent at home during which I am usually journal writing, drawing, or sketching potential knitting & sewing designs is now spent in sloth, sprawled on my bed watching television shows that I haven't decided if I give a crap about them or not.

Today I took a day off after waking up congested, weary, and sick -- but in a very strange way it was a great feeling to take something for myself after so many weeks of doing stuff for other people. I'm not griping about all the tests I've graded or the delicious foods I've prepared with others; I'm just saying it's one of the most difficult things for me to admit that I need to give myself a break.

It's even more difficult to take that break. :-P


O-BUMMER & EDUCATION
Obama recently gave a Back to School Speech -- and of course I'm going to look at it critically. Four years ago I remember hearing about people protesting what seemed like every weekend in Sacramento for educational rights. I remember teachers, operating under a Republican government and agenda, fought more and with the general public than when Obama was first elected. I'm not 100% anti-Obama; in fact, I hate to admit to being 100% anti-anything (with the exception of a few things) but it is worthwhile to make the observation that the people will fight more and will fight harder for their rights under a system that they disagree with on a superficial level than a system that they agree with on a superficial level.

What the hell am I trying to say?

I'm trying to say that neither political side is going to give the public what they want because politicians are too busy trying to please everyone; and in doing so, they do not please everybody. No matter how many times I hear Obama elicit chants of Si se puede, it doesn't make this proud half-Latina support him because he is not taking care of the teachers (even though he was a teacher). No matter how many times I hear about John McCain's support for the US troops, it doesn't make me want to support him because he's not taking care of veterans (even though he was a prisoner of war and most likely suffers from PTSD).

My primary issue with a lot of politicians is that they don't put themselves out there. Sure, occasionally you get someone like Dennis Kucinich who IS a part of a mainstream political party and DOES push a "radical" agenda (like searching for alternate energy and halting overseas wars). He's one of my few heroes that's recognized on a national level. Cali governor Jerry Brown is another one -- if only because he gives it to us straight-up, no bullcrap.

In reading Obama's Education Speech I find myself coming across too many cliches to scribble down.
"We've accepted failure for far too long."
"Enough is enough."
"The time for holding ourselves accountable is here."

. . . I'm sorry if anybody reading my blog is a passionate Obama supporter, but if I were your teacher and I kept telling you that the time for change is now, after you've seen so many before me give the same song-and-dance, would you have -- dare I say it -- hope?

Class, it's time I expected more from you. It's time to demand results from [you] at every level. It's time to prepare [everyone] to out-compete any worker, any where in the world. My classroom's entire education system must be the envy of the world -- and that's exactly what I intend to do.

As plain words on a blog it doesn't seem to say much; said in a speech I'm certain it appears to hold a lot of weight. I do like what he's got to say about making education a "collective responsibility," but again, it's not a new idea.

The two main headlines I see prominently discussed are Education and the Economy. So which E do you think is more important? Will bailing one out help solve the other?