My brother got shot and all I got was this lousy t-shirt

I know, it's a lewd title. My school, celebrating basketball school spirit, hosted a blanket and stuffed animal day this week. The first image I saw when I arrived, was the face of a dead student embroidered onto a lap blanket and draped over the shoulders of his little brother.

Immediately my mind took me back to the day this student passed away. We received a call through the emergency phone chain the night before. A student had been shot and was in critical condition. On my way into the building the next morning, a colleague broke the news that the students did not make it through the night. The details of the crime are not horrific. It was a little of being at the wrong place at the wrong time and a little of the status quo for some of my more difficult students. The days following were tragic and relentless. Students roamed the halls moaning and crying. Classes ceased. Counselors were working overtime. Students were looking for ways to memorialize the student's life. His name was carved into desks, his locker decorated with notes, his initials were inked into any surface that would hold the ink. It was terrible. It is terrible.

Every year, I see about two dozen students wearing white t-shirts with images of young teenagers airbrushed or ironed on to the shirt. There is usually a date 1989-2007...or something like that. And then, on the back, in what seems to be spray paint are the words "RIP Big T," or "RIP Little Snazzy." There is a place at the local mall which specializes in these tees and hoodies. Apparently they sell blankets too.

Here's the point. I'm all for memorializing those we lose in life. I just think that making a t-shirt or sweatshirt for a victim of violence glorifies the violent acts through which they leave this world. I'm sure there are some solid exceptions but the t-shirts really bother me. I think some of my students have drawers filled to the top of t-shirts with young faces on them. Faces that should be in graduation gowns, in tuxedos for prom, and in line at the student union at universities. Instead, they are plastered on someone's t-shirt, hoodie, or blanket. And it makes me sick.

School kids

Sometimes I think the kids are more interested in my outfit than in poetry. Could that be? Today I wore a chunky belt over my sweater and my students felt the need to comment on it all day. Some were brutally honest about what I could and couldn't wear as a "forty year old woman." It's almost like they thought my writing prompt was "tell me what you think of my outfit" instead of "tell me what you think of this poem." I'm thinking about creating a line of clothing with the necessary Ohio Graduation Test material printed on it. Just think sweaters with poetic devices, belts with the writing conventions rubric, oh the possibilities are endless. Endless I tell you.

In other news, I had three kids stay for detention today. One student asked me, "If I just want to sit in my desk and do nothing, why are you going to give me a DT?" Do you really need to ask? I just don't have it in my DNA to allow someone to forsake an education.

Today, after school, the woman who cleans my room (we'll call her Glenna) and I struck up a conversation. She said she used to want to be a preschool teacher or a veternarian (very similar careers). Her father didn't have the money to send her to school and in her words "that dream just went right down the drain." It's hard to show kids that they are really lucky to have this opportunity. I just hope that if Gov. Strickland really does start tossing money at public schools that students are held accountable too.

Random Questions

I get asked all kinds of questions by student, but most of these questions are inappropriate or are posed at inappropriate time. These questions include: Are you pregnant? When are you going to get pregnant? Do you drink? Have you ever done drugs? Can I go to the bathroom? When does winter break begin?

You get the idea.

Today I was teaching a lesson about parables to set up our future discussion of Homer's Odyssey and one of my students raised her hand and asked," Do you know if the angels are Jesus' sisters and brothers?"

I honestly don't know but was a little taken aback by the nature (and somewhat appropriateness) of this question. I'll let you know if I find out.

Oh yeah, what did you do today?

$100 the price it probably costs to hire a substitute when I stay home from school after a sleepless headache-filled night

$75 the cost of towing a broken down Stella Scooter approximately one mile after the clutch went out

$11 the cost of having a new-er tire put on to my Honda Civic after I ran into a curb in a sketchy part of town while searching for Mr. Pete

$19.99 the cost of a car charger for Mr. Pete's chocolate phone---he should use said charger so that he is not say, stranded on the side of the road with a broken down scooter while his wife is risking her life (read running into curbs) trying to find him

$2.00 the price of yesterday's paper that the woman at the Shell station sold me while I was waiting for my friend Brad to come help me rescue Mr. Pete

$20 the cost of eye drops for pinkeye

$9.99 Aloo Choley from Baba India for two to remedy the wounded souls of this day

Being at home on the couch =priceless

If teaching were like football....

• Teachers would be well-paid and have an extensive wardrobe of school spirit attire
• We could call a time out to get our acts together
• Our accountability would be to our fans...who would pay money to see us flex our best and would cheer for us when we were successful and boo for us when we were losing
• They would play cool warm up music for us before the school day started
• We could tackle people who got in our way!
• Parent/Teacher conferences would be like a bowl game and I would always win

Mr. Pete and I attended our first NFL game today. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the football players were talented, and the Chipotle was...pretty good.

Bladder Spasm, Kisses, and The Global Financial Crisis

Wow, what a title. I just thought I couldn't ignore the kidney stone drama I've been experiencing. It's been a whole load of fun. It's been about three weeks since I had my first stone and since then I've had a double J stent and I've had a double J stent removed. The whole thing was a great way to learn about the amazing technology associated with medical advancements and to learn more about the necessity of certain pain killers. The double J stent I had was installed (a funny way of saying that) to prevent swelling after removing a kidney stone. I was glad to see her go (the stent that is) since it hurt to bend over to tie my shoes and it really hurt to deal with disrespectful teenagers. So it was gone as of 9:30 AM but she left my bladder or something in spasms. It was as if I was passing another kidney stone. So, it was more percoset for me and a nap with a heating pad. The offending doule J stent is pictured below.

Do not be deceived by the friendly looks of these suckers. They are one big pain in the....kidney.

In other news, my students are buckling under the Mrs. Pete Pressure. I've had several heart to heart conversations with students where I raise my voice to a very loud volume and use very sharp words and angry statements to convey "my heart." The results are almost instant...obedience. It's kind of rough having to get really passionate and angry to get results from students. I wouldn't do it if it didn't work. I was feeling pretty bad about being so hard on kids and demanding better results from them. Yesterday, I stayed late to get some work done. One of my more difficult female students stopped by to get some extra help and blew me some kisses for all my hard work on her way out the door. It might sound wierd but it was really funny. I think she was trying to make me laugh and show her appreciation at the same time.

And finally, I can't help but talk about the Global Financial Crisis. You really should go over to amalah and check out her hilarious commentary on said crisis. I know I'm not any kind of economic genius but I'm a little confused about all of this. If the whole WORLD is in some kind of economic crisis, can't we just decide to change the rules? I mean didn't we, as a world, make up the rules to this silly financial game? Didn't we assign values to the lumps of gold and silver we found beneath the earth's surface? Isn't it just like monopoly at this point, can't we just give everybody some more of that flimsy paper cash? I'm not naive enough to think that this isn't really complex. I'm just thinking that we as a human race created this mess and I'm just a little confused why we can't untangle it. Is it just me (or the percoset) or does this seem like an easy fix?

I'm Not Going to Lie to You

My little sister used to preface most shocking things she said with this phrase. It was the default phrase she used to convince you of her honesty. It was like saying:"I know you're not going to believe this, but it's true." So I'm not going to lie to you, this is a conversation I had with a student we'll call Mr. Miracle Boy Genius

MMBG: Uhm, Ms. Pete, I've been meaning to talk to you bout somethin
ME: I know, my colleague mentioned you'd stopped by my room
MMBG: Yeah, it's about the honors class
ME: Yeah
MMBG: Why am I in that class?
ME: Why do you think you're in that class?
MMBG: I dunno
ME: It might be because you're smart
MMBG: Oh that.
ME: Do you remember talking to me about getting into the honors class last spring?
MMBG: Yeah, see here's the thing
ME: The thing is about how you didn't fill out your last test...not one word of it
MMBG: Yeah, I've been going through some stuff.
ME: OK, so you want out of the class. It's too hard for you.
MMBG: No, it's not that. I just don't belong in there. I mean everybody follows the directions. It's like if I do something wrong, you're going to know. It's not my kinda class.
ME: So you want out? I can change your schedule. If it's too hard, I mean....
MMBG: No, I just wanted to let you know that I don't fit in
ME: No, you don't
MMBG: Alright, just wanted to let you know.
ME: I know.
MMBG: So we're cool
ME: (I have no idea what just happened) Sure
MMBG: See ya
ME: Our next conversation is going to be about the fact that you need to wear glasses.
MMBG: I've got an appointment next week.
ME: OH, OK. We'll keep me posted.
MMBG: I'm out.
ME: See ya.

See, here's what's crazy about this conversation. MMBG was in my college prep class last year and we GOT INTO IT. He didn't talk to me for ten weeks. And when he did start talking to me again, it was in one word sentences. So, this conversation is revolutionary. This is one of those kids who I think is on the bubble between making it and not making it. So I pushed him into an honors class to see what might happen and voila! I have a kid who is challenging himself, advocating for himself, communicating with adults appropriately...I mean the next step is clearly winning the Nobel Peace Prize.

I'm not going to lie to you that this is the kinda stuff that gets me all excited. Just knowing that this kids is going to be able to read the board from his seat is enough to make me bounce in my Dansko clogs. After that, the possibilities are endless. Since I'm confronted with some of societies "issues" every day, I'm constantly wondering what it takes for people to change. How do some people flourish with just an ounce of extra attention while other crumble under the umbrella of social services they receive? If this kid makes it through this quarter, who says he'll make it through the year? Who will undo all the work I do to "save" this one kid?

Life Altering

Would a Starbucks drive-thru opened on your 45 minute commute change your life?

It's changing mine.

I know I know Fair Trade, local coffee shops. I know. It's just that I've never been through a Starbucks drive-thru. I'm a little excited.

PS: I only have three more days to commute but that's 6 lattes if you consume one each way!

School's out for the Summer

Readers' note: This entry is soaked in sarcasm and could come across as angry...it's not.

Now that school is out for the summer, I'm getting the usual question "What do you do all summer?" This question is usually said with remarkable disdain that someone may take a three month long vacation whilst others work their tail ends off.

My summer routine is usually really mundane. I get up around nine or ten, stumble into the kitchen and fix myself a tropical drink, eat lunch, take a nap, go to the mall, and watch cable until 2 AM.

REALLY, that's NOT what I do. I think that people ask this question out of genuine curiosity but their assumptions are generally misguided. They think that teachers enjoy a 3 month long hiatus after working from "eight to three" each day during the school year and soaking up government holidays and snow days. My new answer to this question is, most teachers do what other office-type people do all year round. Here is my top ten list of what I do during the summer.

10. Check email Many public schools block websites or frown upon teachers checking their personal email accounts or doing personal business from school. I spend the summer responding to email in "real time" (like a 24 hour return rate) rather than having to wait until after 5 to write back to people.

9. Restore my bodily functions to healthy intervals My trips to the restroom are like trying to run the wrong way through the flow of traffic in the mall to make it to a "onner" (it's only one stall) only to find out someone beat me to the tinkle. Change the mall traffic to a swarm of disgruntled teenagers and you'll understand why I'm very strict about my liquids intake during the school year.

8. Detox I know I made a joke about drinking up there somewhere. I'm talking about caffeine here. While I'm careful I don't drink too much before my fifty minute break, I do drink "a few" cups of coffee each day. I usually try to kick the habit once the summer starts.

7. Personal maintenance It's difficult to schedule appointments in the middle of a school day unless the office is close to school. Your liable to find your substitute gagged and tortured in the corner of your room when you return. Various and sundry appointments (dental, vision, doctor, etc.) get scheduled during the summer.

6. Go on a vacation EVERYONE is trying to travel during Winter, Spring, and Summer breaks making travelling during these high demand seasons a little more expensive. The summer time is a great time to get away but it would be nice to take off some time during the great white depression of February.

5. Make money Most teachers supplement their income by working during the summer. I'll teach a summer class at a local university.

4. Go out to lunch This is kind of like trying to go the the restroom. Since our lunch is only twenty-five and half minutes long, I relish the summer time when I can go out to lunch and see friends during the week.

3. Read for fun

2. Forget the cares of the world Often public schools are blamed for the rising rates including crime, drop outs, teen pregnancy, etc. I like to take the summer to think about things like 'what should I wear with my hot pink flip flops?' and other shallow things like that.

1. Plan for next year Teachers are constantly thinking about how their curriculum could be written to better meet the needs of their students. I'll spend my summer test "driving" new books, rewriting syllabi, and reflecting on the previous year of teacher. I think most teachers do.

Teacher Man

Will Okun is a genius. Just so you know. He writes these brilliant photo essays about teaching in Chicago. Sometimes I feel like he's writing his column from under my desk. It feels like he's seeing what I'm seeing, feeling what I'm feeling, sweating when I'm sweating. I think one of the most difficult decisions in the profession is the idea of "passing," and what can be even more difficult, "the grade." Even in an age where there is "content area mastery," there are lots of gray areas. Don't get me wrong, grading is not subjective. Not all the time. And sometimes when I don't think a tenth of a point matters, I hear that graduation march in my head, I see slide shows of students' lives flash before me, and I think about the implications of passing and failing very seriously. Will Okun's essay does that this week.

Insert Clever Title Here....Cause I spent all my energy on a local tax return today

So it's National Poetry Month and I need to give a shout out to The Bard who is the namesake of this blog. Good job Willy. You've been making high schoolers miserable (read enlightened) under my charge for six years now.

OK. Now with the real post.

I think it's absolutely hilarious that my students don't know each other's last names. They'll spend gobs of time together, talk about intimate details of their own lives, even ride in cars with people they only know by their first name or nicknames. There is no way you could get me into the car with some kid nicknamed with some of the names these kids brag about. Since they don't know each other's names, they resort to identifying their peers by the way they look. Take the following conversation for example:

Student A: So you know Neisha?
Student B: Nah, who's dat?
Student A: That light skinned girl that used to go with Darnel?
Student B: Oh yeah, the one with the busted A1's?*
Student A: Nah, the one with the crooked nose.
Student B: She wear tracks?**
Student A: She got micros.***
Student B: Yeah, she used to go with Darnel's cousin, she's got that Baby Phat jacket....the purple one with the fur, she always eatin' and her mama and my mama work at the same place once. I know her.

*Air Force Ones: popular shoes busted: not new
**Tracks: a method of attaching synthetic hair; the "real" hair is wrapped and the tracks are glued in
***Micros: another method of attaching synthetic hair; hair is braided into tiny braids with extensions adding length and sometimes color

It seems like an awful lot of effort to have to learn so much information about someone just to identify them. On the other hand, I think it's cool that they're so attentive to details.

Guns

Read Will Okun's latest post titled "Guns".

Things You Should Not Do In Class

I know it's difficult to determine just what is appropriate for class. I remember struggling to decide if eating Cheerios in my Rhetoric class was appropriate. I decided that the threatening glares from my prof were a hint and left the Cheerios at home. Here are a few tips in case you were wondering:

1. Do not clip your fingernails or your cuticles in class.
2. Do not Instant Message your girlfriend/boyfriend while using your laptop to take notes.
3. Do not yawn audibly (this is even more obnoxious when the offender leans back onto the desk of the person behind him/her).
4. Do not hit people in the face.
5. Do not raise your hand to ask when you go to lunch (duh, you go the same time every day) in the middle of an important discussion about the universal meaning of all literature.
6. Do not attempt to prove the professor/teacher wrong if you don't know what you're talking about. This should be avoided especially when you are arguing with the professor/teacher about the "F" you got on your paper in front of the entire class.

To be continued...

Untitled

In her article, "Rethinking How to Teach New Teachers," Denise Caruso validates the profession of teaching:
"Economic research shows that an educated work force is the foundation of a stable economy. A good education does more than just increase a person’s earning potential. Studies find that regions that produce well-educated high school graduates have a higher rate of business start-ups and more economic activity. Graduates also provide communities with a continuing pool of taxpaying labor.

As teacher rosters shrink, the question is this: How long will such regions be able to hold onto those benefits?

The well-known liabilities of teaching — low pay, overcrowded classrooms and crippling budget constraints — have led recent graduates to opt for more lucrative career options."

I've never thought of teaching so pragmatically. I've never thought that the local economy would be impacted not only by the rating our district receives on a report card, but by our students returning to give back to their community in a very tangible way.

I remember in middle school staying up late on the phone with my friend Andrea. We were two little suburbanites who thought we knew what the world's troubles were and we were the smart girls who would grow to be smart young women who changed the world. I ran into Andrea a few years ago at a happy hour and we reminisced about those conversations. She said, "well you're doing it."

Sometimes it just doesn't feel like change. Today I cleaned up chocolate smeared on my floor, I answered the same question at least 15 times, and someone breathed "b****" under their breath in a subtle way when I wouldn't let them move seats. That doesn't change the world.

Tonight, our local Chipotle had a school fundraiser. I met up with my homeroom class of about ten students for what I called a "family dinner." We sat around a table "smashing" burritos (that's teenager for eating something up) and giggling. I watched a young man let the ladies in line go ahead of him. I watched people say "please" and "thank you". One young lady was laughing so hard at the end of the night, she was crying. Something's got to change when you sit down with your teacher and smash burritos. Racial lines were blurred, rice and beans were flying, and I was connected with my students. I can only hope that a little carbo loading and giggling will some day change the world.

PS: Mr. Pete went. He is the best husband in the whole wide world.

Untitled

Will Okun has this blog over at NYtimes.com It's great because he's a teacher and he's a photographer and I really dig his stuff. I've linked it here if you want to check it out. Here's a quote from today's post titled "Understand":

"Although I am exhausted and frustrated, I am still passionate about teaching and I care deeply for the students I teach. I am saddened to consider that my race potentially limits my effectiveness in the classroom. But truth be told, I can feel an awkward disconnect between the students and me on an almost daily basis."

Now I'm not sure I feel an awkward disconnect on a daily basis but I do feel different. It's frustrating at times to know that students make assumptions about me because of my race. I guess it's even more frustrating to me to know that other people will make assumptions about them because of their race.

Teacher Moment

My first class of the day is, how do I say this politely, materially challenged. On a daily basis their preparedness for class resembles that of an army of sloths, or zombies, or something. Most of them usually arrive late, if at all, and their general attitude toward me is 'oh it's you, were you saying something?' They hardly ever have anything they need and the only questions they ask me are "Does this book come on tape?" or "Are we going to watch the movie?" Most look up at me with attitude and squinty eyes, the quintessence of adolescence.

I tried an experiment a few weeks ago. After drinking several cups of Starbucks' Breakfast Blend, I attempted to get their attention. I put everything I had into this twenty minute rant about vocabulary and connecting new knowledge with prior knowledge and I was using my hands, and I was talking miles per minute, and I was pacing, and keeping eye contact, redirecting disruptive behavior, monitoring learning, and using my proximity to them to keep them engaged...all things good teachers do. And it worked. It was almost like I had given them the energy I had. I once taught under a principal, who on a daily basis, met up with one of our more energetic students in the hallway. He'd approach her, greet her, and stick out his finger E.T. style. She would reach out to meet him halfway. He'd pretend as though a jolt of energy surged between their fingers and he'd quiver as though he had just been energized by this always perky (only sometimes annoying) student. I always thought it was an act. BUT IT WORKED. Moments later, my zombie/sloth class began to mimic my manic behavior. Their arms were moving, their mouths were flapping, and they appeared to be ready to jump from their seats. It was then I remembered this lesson I learned from a colleague a few years ago. Education is loud, it's exciting, and the learning process itself is a little unsettling.

Bad Day

I had one of those days today when you cry on your way to work and you cry on your way home. This morning, I was listening to the words from "Idea #21" by Over the Rhine and I got all teary-eyed because I'm impatient for justice and peace. And then I thought about my job and how I have this amazing opportunity and responsibility to foster peace and justice with young minds and young hearts and that just gets me all jazzed up to walk in from the parking lot and into my classroom. I can't wait to hurl Salinger, Vonnegut, Bradbury, Angelou, and Bronte at unsuspecting students revealing truth, beauty, and the journey of humanity.

And then I told my students to shut up.

Student: Mrs. Pete, I have a question

Me: teacher glare

Same student: Mrs. Pete, do I have to write this down or can I just think about it?

Me: I don't want to talk to you right now.

It was hot in the computer lab today and they were being so obnoxious. And they didn't care one little bit about truth, or beauty, or about humanity. At least not at 12 PM today. I couldn't teach them anything. They couldn't hear me. So, I told them to shut up. And I tear myself up because telling someone to shut up is not fostering peace and it's certainly not showing them how to "use their words."

My coworker came down later in the afternoon and I confessed my sins. She reminded me that I'm human and I vowed to be nicer to myself. I got home to find a Real Simple magazine and a letter from a good friend with a copy of the poem "Messenger" by Mary Oliver from her book Thirst. Bibliotherapy I tell you. The first line of Oliver's poem took me back to the excitement I felt getting out of the car this morning, "My work is loving the world." It reminds me that my work is to love the world and love isn't always perfect, it's not always kind, it's not always patient, but it tries to be. So I'll try again tomorrow. And hopefully I'll be "astonished" by how much my students teach me about truth, beauty, and humanity. I'll try to stand still. I teach high school.

Messenger

My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird
--equal seekers of sweetness. Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still not half
perfect? Let me keep my mind on what
matters, which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a
heart and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy
dug-up clam,telling them all, over and
over, how it is
that we live forever.

Summer is O-ver

We go back to school tomorrow. It's hard to describe this feeling. Every year I'm sad when the laziness of summer is gone and the craziness that is school begins. I've been reflecting about what waiting for the school year is like. It's almost like when you're driving and you know you're going to hit something and you just brace yourself for the impact. That's generally how the school year begins. I see it coming from miles away and I brace myself for the impact it has on my everyday life.

My friend Susan and I have pledged that we would stop teaching the school year after we weren't excited about returning to school. We both recognize that it's impossible to teach without loving school. It's difficult to return year after year to something you don't enjoy. I wouldn't say this year's return brings apathy, maybe a healthier and more mature desire to teach. This year, teaching won't be who I am. Teaching will be what I do. I'm hoping that will make it a better year for everyone.

I really like this poem by Julia Melor Simpson that is featured in the July 2007 edition of English Journal. She writes

She Left Because

Huck had headed out to the terriotry
one too many times.

She left because she told
students to discover their passions.

She left because of rubrics.

She left becasue Hester Pyrnne wouldn't
and Dimmesdale couldn't.

She left becasue she started planning
her summer vacation in February--
okay, January. Okaay, November.

She left because it was time
to find Kunitz's garden.

She left because Thoreau's distant drum
kept disrupting her classroom.

She left because she still could.

She left because some days
she wanted to give everyone an A--
and some days an F.

She left because the things she carried
were no longer a storyteller's truth.

She left because
it was time to go.