Nothing To Do

So, my life in the year since graduation has been, pretty much, a series of firsts. An exercise in adaptation, experimentation, patience, and “just go with it.” At my program, a mix between a daycare, a preschool, an after-school center, and a summer camp, we continue to teach through the summer. Our class size tends to reduce, at least somewhat, at least temporarily, and we remix the class. The oldest ones who are becoming bored move up to Pre-K, the younger ones stay, and some even younger ones are moved up to our room. 

Today, we got our class list for the summer. Of 19, five of our kids will stay with us for the summer. It was expected that this would happen. Actually, I was surprised that any would stay. By August, or perhaps September, the entire group of 23 that made up “my first class” will have moved on to another program, another class, onward, upward, out of my reach. These won’t be the first goodbyes. Already four kids have left for various reasons. We think of them, we wonder, we hope they are well. And then we get back to the faces in front of us, focusing on the problems we can, or at least still try, to solve. 

This transition is, to be extremely cliche, bittersweet. There are the kids that we are happy to pass on. Some because they’ve been ready for months and we want them to grow and learn more than we teach. Some because we have run out of ideas/techniques/patience and we want someone with a fresh perspective to have a go. And then there are the kids that we don’t want to let go. The child who came to us with emotional issues who blossomed into a kind friend and a bright student. The child who struggled through behavior problems for a month before finding a comfort zone where he has been able to succeed. We feel like our work is not done with them. We worry that  another class, another teacher, another room, another routine… might throw them right back to where they started. We wonder if their new teachers will understand them like we do, will love them like we do, will work with them like we do. We wonder if they will listen to their new teachers, if they will stay on the right track, if they will succeed. 

We’ve done all we can. It’s out of our hands. All we can do is think of them, wonder, and hope they do well. And we’re lucky, with most of them, that we will still see them once in a while, at least for a few more months. 

A while back, I was at a funeral. In the sermon… Or homaly… Or whatever it’s called when a religious leader makes a sort of speech to honor the dead, the man made a comment about “third spaces.” He defined these spaces as places other than your home (presumably “first space”) or your place of work (presumably “second space”) where you spend a significant amount of time or they have significant meaning to you. Places like the coffee shop you visit every morning, or the diner you go to for brunch every Sunday. You know, somewhere where everybody knows your name. This got me thinking, as I drove to work one morning soon after that funeral, about third people. 

I thought about third people being those people outside your family (first people) and your friends (second people), who are nonetheless significant. People whose names you may not know, you may not know anything about them, or even discuss anything with them beyond the weather, but they are significant somehow. For me, these are the people I pass on the sidewalk, or see across the street, when I walk my dogs every morning. The people who I see walking on the sidewalk as I drive to work. I gauge my mornings by these people. Depending on where the woman with the black backpack and the coffee cup is on her walk, presumably to class or work, I am running either early or late. I will probably never meet this woman. She probably has no idea that I see and remember her. Perhaps there are people you see daily, or maybe just a couple of times a week, who are familiar, comforting in their familiarly, and yet you don’t know them at all. Some of my close friends have started as third people. People I would see around places, in classes or in dining halls, and eventually one or the other of us struck up a conversation, acknowledging that we both saw and recognized each other. 

It’s interesting to think of the connections we have to people around us. If I see people around me and remember them, who might be out there seeing me? Am I a part of someone’s morning routine? 

“Harold what your mother said
Read the books your father read
Try to solve the puzzles in your own sweet time”

As a small child, I was famous for saying, “I want to do it myself!………. Help me!”

Take the knowledge given to you, but you’ll never grow up until you solve problems your own way.

source: http://www.lyricsondemand.com/d/desreelyrics/lovewillsavethedaylyrics.html

kbkonnected:

Fantastic resource for teachers. I’ve browsed through it many times.

theinsidelane:

If you’re looking for educational blogs (on Tumblr) then take a deep breath and click the link above.

Thanks for compiling/posting this! I love seeing what others are doing/thinking.

(Source: theinsidelane)

After reading this article, I am left pondering. Personally, I thought about my answers to the questions posed in the article.

• What gender would you prefer your firstborn child to be (or did you hope for if you already have a child)?

I would prefer my firstborn child to be male

•  If you were to have (or do have) more than one child, would you prefer the majority to be male or female?

I have no preference for a majority of male or female children

• If you were to have only one child, what gender would you prefer it to be?

I would not have a preference

So, with that information, I pondered. Clearly, I fall outside the norm set by this study. The only question I care at all about is the first one, and since I am female, my preference for a male first-born (if I have more than one child) is the opposite of what is “supposed to” happen. I suppose I should explain that preference. I think, at the heart of it, is my own personal history. I was the second of 3 children, and I had an older brother. This significantly shaped how I grew up as a girl. I was not pink or scared of bugs and reptiles because my brother would have lost some respect for me if I was. I cared very little, if at all, about my hair, make-up, clothes, shoes, and other “girly” things. Honestly, though, this probably had as much to do with my mother as with my brother. I find that this experience makes me feel balanced and well-adjusted. So, that’s part of why I would want my second child to have an older brother. I also have experienced male firstborns developing more nurturing characteristics than other men. Again, that’s just my personal experience and in no way reflects any actual knowledge of such statistics. There are probably other factors in my preference for a male firstborn, but that’s what’s coming to mind. 

Mostly, my thoughts come from a sibling perspective, rather than a parenting perspective. I think that I would have equal joys and challenges from male or female children. I do not think one would be easier or harder than another. I do not think I would have an easier or harder time relating to one or the other. In all my teaching/tutoring/childcare experience, I have had difficulties and successes with both. I tell anyone who cares to hear that I just do not work well with 8-year-old boys or 13-year-old girls. Perhaps I just have a “masculine” mindset. There are lots of “masculine” attributes that I exhibit, even as a female. I hate asking for directions, and would rather just study the map. I care very little about my appearance. I prefer my clothes to fit loosely than fitted. I have no memory for dates. I am more often blunt than “coy” or whatever. It is what it is. I personally don’t see myself as masculine, I don’t identify as masculine or male. Regardless, these are my thoughts on the matter. 

I heard on the radio this morning a piece about Romney’s negative campaigning. Negative campaigning pisses me off. Campaigning in general tends to piss me off. But, what caught my attention was the amount of money being used for TV campaigning. I heard that Romney himself has put $11 million toward TV ads and his SuperPAC has put $21 million in. So, $32 million just toward putting ads on tv to say how bad the other guys are and (maybe sometimes) how great you are. Is anyone else having a completely visceral “what-the fuck-world-do-I-live-in?!?” reaction to this? Honestly. 32 million dollars. I feel the need to start calling various nonprofits and charities and developing countries just to ask what they could/would do with $32 million. Here are a few organizations whose anwers to that question I would love to know:

JDRF (Juvenile Diabetes Research Fund) : My sister was diagnosed with Type 1 at 12. Could $32 million have found a cure for her? How much could $32,000,000 do for research into a condition that has such an impact on the quality of life for so many kids and adults?

Planned Parenthood : Women’s health is under attack all over the country. How much would $32 million change the direction of legislation on contraception, abortion, and other women’s health issues?

Doctors Without Borders : Do I need to explain this? There are sick people everywhere and a lot of places do not have the resources to treat ailments that are mundane to those of us who are privileged to have insurance and PCPs. Did you know that diarrhea is a leading cause of death in children in many developing countries? What difference could $32 million make in those lives?

Global Fund for Women : What projects by brilliant women could be funded by $32 million? How many women with ideas to save or improve their communities would receive calls or letters telling them to get started?

What would your favorite organization(s) do? Call and ask.

Isn’t it screwed up that, in this country, it’s acceptable to spend that much money simply advertising for a campaign?? That money goes nowhere. At least, it doesn’t go toward making the changes that the candidates want, or the changes that the people want. It goes toward a number of people’s paychecks. Which is noble in itself, I know I would be nowhere without a paycheck, and the money has to start somewhere. But 32 million dollars?? There has GOT to be something better that could be done with that money.

(Source: NPR)

Tell her the scale doesn’t see her like you do.

Mean it.

I appreciate that I cannot gender this character, labelled “the modern edition.” Thank you, Swackett.

Sometimes that’s just how you feel when you wake up. Sometimes you know before you even get in bed that that’s how you’ll feel when you wake up.

However,

When you are paid by the hour, not according to a salary,

And you have no built-in paid sick/personal/vacation days,

And you depend on every cent of every paycheck to pay rent and other necessary living expenses,

And you have a co-teacher and 20 kids who depend on you to be there each and every day,

You go to extreme lengths to prevent, stave off, and cure any and all ailments immediately to be sure that you WILL be at school today and every other day.

And so, after suddenly developing a sore throat this evening, my next steps were wholly logical, and, obviously, what anyone else would do.

1. Eat at least 5 Luden’s medicated throat drops one right after another until it becomes clear that that are not making any damn difference.

2. Take heavy duty cough syrup left over from back to back sinus infections.

3. Rinse sinuses with saltwater.

4. Gargle heavily salted water. Twice. Gag.

5. Rinse mouth with hydrogen peroxide solution. Twice.

6. Brush teeth.

7. Rinse mouth again with mouthwash.

8. Go to bed.