Altruism gone wild!!!

More insight on education from the grey lady.

2007-01-03T20:13:00.000-08:00

Trying to Find Solutions in Chaotic Middle Schools has one of the better examples of poignant and unflourished journalism about education I've seen in a while.

Last 3 grafs:

The Seth Low seventh graders have their own theories about why middle school scores plummet.

Nadine George, 12, said she is struggling in science class now because she never understood it in elementary school, despite getting good grades on tests. “Not that I knew how to do it, but whatever was in my notes I just copied it down,” she cheerily elaborated.

Jeorge Coronado, 13, said he was distracted now by fights and girls, who were starting to “look mad good.” Fabiola Noel, 12, disclosed that during a recent math class, her mind wandered to the look of her hair. In the note that was torn up in science class, Lillian Safa, 13, had asked a friend why a third girl was ignoring her. Two weeks later, Lillian reported, they are once again friends.

The article itself is focused on a slew of educational trends for middle schools around the city and country, none of which have proven themselves yet.

Now normally, I find newspaper interviews of students patronizing, but for some reason I felt this just ended up being a great example of what middle school is like-- in all its pathetic and miserable glory.

Achievement Gap in NYTM

2006-11-30T08:07:00.000-08:00

To remind this blog's readers (I can't believe you still exist, but you do!) about a really, really important Times magazine article discussing the achievement gap. Go read it now! As Ali G would say, "i hope you has listened up, let your mind be opened, peace!"

Mozy on over to the new hip spot.

2006-10-17T19:57:00.000-07:00

fellow-ette's got a brand new game.

First-Year Fellow-ette No more.

2006-10-16T07:51:00.000-07:00

It's time to retire AGW.

Well, folks. From the miserable beginning to the musing middle to the absolute high point (that I didn't even write)--it's been a long ride. There were observations, "S"s that I thought were "U"s, secret traps sprung by my principal. Kids whipping up lighters, inviting their "goons" into my room, and threatening each other.
And wonderful moments of learning, bonding, feeling inspired or relaxed (though the later not much).

And then as a coda there was the almost happy ending when regents results came in. And the bittersweet emails from students when they realized I wasn't returning this fall.

This blog will still hang around so that people who type "disgruntled teacher" or "first-year teacher" or "New York City Teaching Fellows Sucks" or "NYCTF quit" or "Bad NYCTF" or even "Teachers Gone Wild" (pervy!) in google blogsearch can still see the entire damn experience, real and raw...just lying in wait for their perusal.

My final thoughts about inner-city teaching, urban teaching, or what have you are a few. First, I really think that the dumbing down of the curriculum, which seems to be a universal problem is a bad way to go. Duh. Oh, and "using the vernacular" to reach kids is a REALLY bad way to go. There ought to be a universal, semester-long grammar curriculum for ninth graders with constant assessment in the forms of quizzes and tests, and class sizes should be no more than 15, ever.
Easier said, I know. But what kids need, more than books that they can "relate to", or group work or do nows that are timed with a kitchen timer, is pride in themselves and where they're going. A sense of community can be instilled in any school beyond its name. "School for Arts and Sciences" is crap unless it's built up to be more by everyone involved. Unless every day, kids walk in and see pleasant facilities, an atmosphere of special care. And if schools like mine are going to become dumping grounds, then they need a patented approach and curriculum for dealing with troubled students.

The program for motivated, not necessarily gifted students, at which I now teach on Saturdays has given me a lot of hope, hope I didn't have last year. So that's a very happy ending for me. Now, on to more frivolous blogging.

What I've Been Up To

2006-10-11T09:56:00.000-07:00

Shtuff Fellow-ette's been a-Readin:

Under the Banner of Heaven, By Jon Krakauer. In Cold Blood stlye true-crime narrative mixed with sickly engrossing details about the ways of Mormon fundementalists, from the inbred horrors of Colorado City Az/Hillsdale Utah, to the raving lunatic who kidnapped Elizabeth Smart and took her as his second wife, so that he could "live the principle." Puts some context behind the soap-operaisms of Big Love.

44 Scotland Street, by Alexander McCall Smith. An ode to Armistead Maupin's fucktastic Tales of the City series (if you haven't read it, read it!) set in stuffy Edinburigh. Smith's characterization and sympathy are well in evidence here, but the unresolved story lines and unnecessary philosophical meanderings make me long for Precious Ramotsowe!

Empire Falls, by Richard Russo. I thought this book was a tour de force, a story of fractured, miserable small-town life post-industrial era, with jobs and dignity fled, and childhood rivalries playing out in the next generation. A really straightforward, but tragically deep, narrative with (do I hear it?) echoes of Middlemarch. Or maybe that's Middlesex?

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. A ripping good yarn, and an examination of the tragedy, the layers of violence, that is modern Afghanistan. Perhaps some of the symbolism is too overt, the parallels too pat, but I couldn't put it down!

Bridge's Subway Adventures, Part Deux

2006-10-03T19:33:00.000-07:00

Yo, so check it. It was the day of atonement. I hadn't had any food or coffee. I was standin' at my local subway stop, the 1-9-1, when in rolls this train. There are four honeys standing between me and that dirty-ass seat on the A train, which will take me to the house of the Lord to seek entry into that Book of Life.
They take their time getting on board. And suddenly the doors are closing on me, literally, frightening. Like the seasoned New Yorker I am, I push through. I curse, not loudly but with expressive lip-movement. I sit down, flushing with the rawness of the fact that I am mid-sin on Yom Kippur.
I hear giggling. Four of my new students are sitting across from me, having seen the whole thing. Fortunately, I salvage a modicum of dignity by applying dry sarcasm to the situation.
Doesn't this just seem destined to happen to moi?

***********
So the New York Times says reading the Torah makes you a good parent... I always thought being a good parent makes you a good parent. You learn something new every day.

SNL: You're on notice.

2006-10-01T12:17:00.000-07:00

What makes me think Matthew Perry has taken over as head writer of Saturday Night Live?

I decided during last night's premiere that there's something more than a wee bit wrong with SNL these days. The show has become profoundly conservative. Unlike shows on cable run by Stewart, Colbert and Co, (and even Trey Parker and Matt Stone) which critique conventional wisdom and the status quo, SNL parrots our cultural idiocy, jumping on the bandwagon of mocking anyone who is already being lampooned or chastised by the press. For instance, Darrel Hammond coming out in Bill Clinton regalia and calling his Fox News interview a "hissy fit" is simply put, BO-RING, and also rather reactionary. That the big political joke came from an alleged affair between Clinton and Condoleeza Rice is a sign of just how dry the well has run.

The only belly-laugh moments of the entire broadcast came in "Hugo Chavez' political round up" which brought together Kim Jong Il, Ahmadnejad, Chavez and Musharraf... and while the individual caricatures were hilarious, the jokes could have been much more pointed (no Holocaust denial? No reinforcement of the fact that some of Chavez' criticisms might be legit?). The skit ended with a lame gesture to the all-American audience; if the dictators could live in any country, they all averred, it would be the United States. There went the edge.

Seth Myers, who replaces Tina "I want to be a cool girl like Lindsey-Lohan" Fey at the Weekend Update desk, actually had much sharper zingers than Amy Poehler did, and didn't get the applause he deserved. And Brian Williams, who cameoed for five minutes, showed seriously impressive acting chops. Maybe he is the right choice for fillin Tom "Jesus lacks my authority" Brokaw's shoes. Meanwhile host Dane Cook, is quite possibly the worst comedian in the history of the genre: you know who he hates? "Negative people, man." Me too, Dane. Me too.

Also, the Killers were kind of cute and awesome.

over and out.

/Fellow-ette

Nude art deemed offensive; gets teacher canned!

2006-10-01T08:55:00.000-07:00

The Times has been on fire with its educational articles recently, revealing just how horrifying American values, as shown in its public schools, can be.

The first piece is the one that, as a certain brother of mine says, makes one want to be a lawyer. A veteran art teacher in the Texas school system took her class to the art museum, only to find herself verbally disciplined, suspended, and her contract under threat of termination because of a few nude sculptures in the gallery.

This is our society. We let our children play with toy guns, watch violent movies and video games, and some of us let them get the crap beaten out of them by way of punishment in school. but NUDE SCULPTURES are unnacceptable? And then of course, a morally and educationally bankrupt school administration stands with the parents and uses the dirty, dirty trick of complaining that the field trip was disorganized/the teacher had other problems on her previously clean record. It's just enough to make one's blood boil, and thik that our public schools should be razed and built again with all the money we're pumping in to foreign conflicts. UGH. Not to mention our pseudo-puritan values.

What were the sculptures, by the way?

"the marble torso of a Greek youth from a funerary relief, circa 330 B.C.; its label reads, “his nude body has the radiant purity of an athlete in his prime.” She passed sculptor Auguste Rodin’s tormented “Shade;” Aristide Maillol’s “Flora,” with her clingy sheer garment; and Jean Arp’s “Star in a Dream.”"

Oh my God! The scuptures had anatomy! Imagine what they would have said had there been Titians and Michelangos on display.

*********************
On a more positive note, my first Saturday morning grammar class was on the successful side. I realized that working with these bright, eager, kids, the problems are 90%pedagogy and 10% management, as opposed to... you know. The other way around.

Tuesday Bluesday

2006-09-26T09:09:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I won the heart of one of my tutees by recognizing her reference to a Velvet Underground song, and regaling her with the time I saw Lou Reed at the Beacon in leather pants.

He was in leather pants, that is. And they were gorgeous. And my friends and I had snuck in a poland spring bottle that wasn't poland spring, making it all the better. But I didn't tell her that part.

I'm wondering if I should give up the tiny smidgen of pretense I have of being a good role model and just embrace being a "cool" teacher/tutor thoroughly, start bragging about my nonexistent tatoos and the nonexistent trail of brokenhearted exes/heroin habits in my past. And then offer my students some nonexistent weed. Thought, dear readers?

...But c'mon now folks, who can forget hearing their first Velvet Underground album? I mean, I'm not going to describe it here because I'm saving it for fiction/memoirs, but even more than the Beatles or Bob, that was a seminal moment. Let's just put it that way.

Lou, I love you!

PS I had another crazy early morning dream involving a kidnapped Chelsea Clinton, Mel Gibson, a car crash and financial ruin. But not necessarily in that order. Try to interpret that, Sigmund.

PPS Studio 60 on the sunset strip needs to make like Aaron Sorkin when he tokes up and CHILL THE FUCK OUT. Hello, it's a show about a COMEDY. But it's kind of seriously addictive.

I Spent My First Rosh Hashanah in a Church School

2006-09-24T20:25:00.000-07:00

Surrounded by posters advertising the goodness of Jesus.

Fortunately, I was doing secular work: teaching my first grammar class at a program called College Bound, which prepares teens for law careers and helps them get into top colleges-- even though many of them come from tough, tough neighborhoods and backgrounds.

The head of the entire program actually demo-ed the first lesson (would that such things occured in the Public School System) and I saw that the kids were infinitely ninth grade: they giggled inapproriately, occasionally sassed the instructor, whispered, fidgeted, showed undisciplined thinking.

But oh my god, were they eager to learn, to participate, to be polite and respectful and successful. I've never seen anything like it, except during Regents week; even as the class stretched into its fifth hour and the students were bored and hot and hungry, they still tried. rather valiantly.

I can't wait for next week, where our subject will be, well... the subject!
And it was most definitely a better way to spend my time than a shofar-less saturday at shul.

Hey, Teachers! Got any geniuses who love to write on your roster this year?

2006-09-24T20:21:00.000-07:00

Check this out.

Oh, Heavens.

2006-09-20T11:10:00.000-07:00

I've always had somewhat sensitive skin, but this morning's topper was two massive red zits, nonexistent yesterday, on the tip and bridge of my nose, which already is somewhat prominent. I had a slice of pizza with an 11th-grade tutee yesterday, and I swear to GOD, that shit's contagious. Now I just look like a bloody alcoholic and I can't leave my home. On second thought, that's just cause I'm lazy.

In other equally really really important news, the life of someone working three part-time jobs while trying to finish a novel and advance her freelance career is less like a roller coaster and more like one of those jerky haunted-house kind of rides, where the mean people jumping out at you are the specters of your own doubts, regrets, and laziness(es).

But at least I can sleep in!

Amazing dream...

2006-09-15T08:25:00.000-07:00

I had an amazing dream about my former students early this morning, while my flatmate was making eggs and I was, well, dreaming.

We were in an auditorium, and T, the "skinny greek" literacy coach was in charge of whatever was happening. All my worst behavioral offenders, plus some of their buddies who I came to know intimately, were there, and they started throwing things. Small things, at first, and then a bike lock, and some other stuff. and T. kept catching them and laughing. And then M, the most disturbed child I will ever teach, threw a BASEBALL bat, and T. told him he had "gone too far."

Then I woke up.

Another Rainy Day...

2006-09-15T07:35:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had a series of public transportation disasters as only can happen in New York including: an inordinate wait for a train that jus din' come...

*a bus ride that included a wheelchair passenger, agonizingly lifted and lowered, lifted and lowered. And you want to be like, hey, I'm all for your rights, but you're also like, shit I'm so fucking late right now. You know what I'm talking about.

*an unplanned stop at the bus terminal to switch drivers, discuss said switch, and then for driver numero dos to "test out" the equipment, the seatbelt, etc. Safety first!

*rainy day slowness on both rail and caravan routes.

Anyhooch, the day was improved upon with a visit to my chic SoHo fiction-writing workshop. The class was smaller, more intimate, and more relaxed on round two, a relief and an inspiration.

Other random thoughts:

On Rock Star: Supernova, Dilana was robbed, mothafuckas...
Also, watching her performance has led to a huge surge in lipsynching in my apartment.

Proof that I am sometimes really a real-life Bridget Jones

2006-09-14T06:40:00.000-07:00

We're not even going to talk about opening the fridge door at Mani Marketplace on W. 94th, and watching in slow mo as a half-gallon of lactaid tumbled off the shelf and coated the floor with its milky (but lactose-free and digestible!) contents.

No. But what we will talk about is the particle of dust that snuck its way up my nose in the bowels of the subway system, far beneath the intersection of 168, B'way, and St. Nicholas...ready to make my life hell.
I sneezed once, with a ferocity that surprised even me.
Twice.
"Bless you," someone muttered.
Three times.
I started to blush. But still, it wasn't a snotty, blechy kind of coldy sneezing fit. It was obviously a something's up there kind of sneezing fit.
Four times.
I was aiming right into the crook of my arm, looking away from everyone, smushed at the end of my bench and leaning into the empty space by the door, like the 'asponsible citizen I am.
Nonetheless, by 175th street, the elderly pair of real estate dealers, he in a bow-tie and stiff expression, glanced at me warily, and then...
without a HINT of subtlety or consideration for my poor nasal passages...
MOVED to the other end of the car. To avoid me and my nonexistent germs!
Six, seven, eight.
At this point some sympathetic older guy who didn't speak much english started making facial expressions which were a cross between understanding and hitting-upon. This did not comfort me.
We passed 184th, and I had now sneezed at least 15-20 times. I desperately considered getting out here and walking the extra five blocks home, but then there was the issue of the elevators... If i stood in one of them and this attack continued, I might alienate half my neighborhood.
22, 23, 24.
People were definitely staring at me.
At last, as we pulled into 190th, I dashed off my car, and as I was climbing up the stairs, I sneezed lucky sneeze number 31. "Bless you," said someone, for the first time since sneeze No. 2.
32, 33.
Then I had my own, hometown elevator to deal with; my final test. Would it be my waterloo, or would I contain it?
I breathed in deeply and concentrated, as the elevator rose, rose, from Bennett ave up to Ft. Washington. I itched and I twitched...
And I didn't sneeze! Not til I hit the street, and there, it was sort of a final honk of victory. My ordeal was over. Home was near. I had made it.

Moralz of the story: One mini-pack of tissues is never enough. Old real-estate agents with bow-ties are mean, selfish creatures. If at first you don't expel the dust from your nose; try, try, again.

Next time: The story of the hiccuping dude on the D out to Coney Island.

Musings on education...

2006-09-10T14:22:00.000-07:00

I'm still an urban teacher in a sense. Most every Saturday, I'll be instructing a host of freshman in an "enrichment" program not unlike Prep for Prep in a highly regimented grammar course. I'm excited, slightly nervous because they're freshman, and I know just what they're like at that age now. And I know they like to test, test, test all figures of authority.
However, the routine, the curriculum, and the discipline, are all hand-fed to me by the program. I have the liberty to ask any unprepared or unruly student to step outside the room, which is nice. I think nothing can ever compare to the little monsters my freshman at my former HS were... even though they ended up being my best class, they were a wild bunch at first.
So I'm actually quite excited. And the "he said WHAT?" stories will be back on AGW... with, hopefully, not as much of the frustration. Stay tuned.
****

*As always, I have the instruction of young minds on the brain. Eliot Spitzer, speaking in a "town hall" the other night, said that without educational reforms, there will be no resurgence of a middle class. (Incidentally, he went to my preppy prep high school and worked on our school paper, and he's a smug bastard, but so dead on.)

*But education isn't even a priority for our nation
...so how's change ever going to trickle down? The manpower it takes to educate and train youth is staggering.

*Meanwhile, in the higher eschelons, injustice still wears a suit, has a Y chromosome and a pallid skin tone, and is given affirmative action that sees color: the color green.

*Read all about the "Price of Admission" and weep.

Things I Hate...

2006-09-09T20:35:00.000-07:00

*skinny jeans (ugly)
*annoying women talking on subway about their tribulations (loud)
*hayfever (sneezy)
*Lance Armstrong (cad)
*laundry (un-done)

oh my saints... oh my stars

2006-09-07T13:58:00.000-07:00

SO much to report, blogland. SO much to report.

First of all, in family news, mon frere, il a depart a L'Ecosse hier soir. C'est Dure!!!!! I miss him already even though we've gmail chatted three times today. Glasgow is putting its party hat on for him... slainte, brotha man! I'll be there soon, kilt on.

Second of all, in career news... I decided firmly that my non-acceptance to a certain verrrryyy prestigious magazine internship was a sign from the cosmos (a spiritual atheist's superstition) that I should, well, to quote what Astrophil (aka Sir Philip Sidney)'s muse said to him, "Fool, look in thy heart and write!"
So I bared my teeth. I applied up to tutor privileged youngsters, with a very professional, nice-seeming organization. I applied up to teach grammar on saturdays to underprivileged youngsters. I signed up to help my parenting magazine put out a teen issue (I'm to be the "deputy editor"), and I spent a butload of money (considering my current situation) enrolling in a fiction workshop to help speed my novel (now approaching 40 thousand words) towards something resembling completion. I vowed I would finish the book, because all these commitments together would still leave me time to write every morning.

And then I got a phone call offering me the original job. Apparently, I was the numero uno runner up.

I was excited, I was flattered...and, dear reader, I turned it down!

(Gnarls Barkley playing in background... does that make me crazy? Does that make me crazy? Does that make me crazeee? Possibleee. [NB: I used to think this line was either "eyes so blue" or "eyes of blue", but I've been corrected]...)

Karmically, I just couldn't do it. It's not even as much about committing to the three jobs, although that matters, as it is what I promised to myself. I told myself fhat I would take my fiction, my dream, and massage it until ittoo, got rejected, and I settled into pragmatism--or I landed a contract and a movie deal, and people compared me negatively to Marisha Van Pessl and Curtis Sittenfeld, but teenage girls bought my books in droves and had crushes on my dreamy hero so I didn't care about the snotty reviewers.

So that's what I'm doing. And should that fail, I will re-apply to internshipland.
*****************************

Third of All, in Education News:

Completely shameless self-promotion: emails from a few students after hearing I've left teaching to try to write for magazines.

______________________________

Hi Ms. [Fellow-ette] How are you? I miss you so much. You are realy a good teacher.
I feel so bad when i hear you are not teach. Today when i waik through my english class i look in your class i so another teacher. This year my english teacher is Ms.[redacted]. I love you so much and i want to be in your class. I pass the math regents.

Your love [Student A, who is ESL]

______________________________

Hey ms.[fellow-ette],

I hope all goes well for you with the magazine. I was hoping that you
were going to return this year to teach juniors:) but i'll keep in touch though....
I actually have Mrs. [redacted] for english this year, she seems alright....
Once again, [very talkative student] happens to be in my class :( lol
Since Junior year is my most important year, im going to make it
my best year:) .........
well i guess i'll talk to you later,
[student B, who clearly got her elementary ed in the suburbs]

______________

good luck with your new job i hope you do very well with that career path
i will stay in touch
you are a wonderful teacher

[very succinct student C]

_________________

damn, that's sad.... a great [school name] loss there is... good luck to u.... i'll see what u write on ur magazines..... hope that is no cosmo mag XD

[student D, who loves ellipses]

___________________

ok thank you ms.[f] anyways good luck to you and yea i will and yea i am going to tell you everything hopefully everything goes fine, by the way is junior year hard?and take care much love.....[student E, who hates punctuation]

_________________

first day:

it was cool untill it started to rain and I got my new sneakers wet.... me and [very hyperactive student] went to eat at wendies and we were cracking up on the old times.... ALSO he did some ghetto shit XD.... he went to get a metro card from the machine WITH COINS!.... a long line was made.... one coin fell... we made some people angry and the lady on the cabin was yelling at him with the MIC. it was FUNNEY!
Att: [student D again, reporting on first day of school]

PS: WE miss u and [very hyperactive student] says for u to write him

_____________________

it's amazing how these kids, who all hated me at times, let the good times supercede the bad in their memory! And so does their teacher (she tries, anyway).

Lastly, read

Capsule Reviews of Books I Read Pre-, During, and Post-vacation

2006-08-29T13:48:00.000-07:00

The World According to Garp, by John Irving

This was, I hate to admit it, my big reading accomplishment of the summer. The first 300 pages consisted of me putting the book down at intervals and conemplating hurling it off various Prince Edward Island cliffs. Then people started dying, pathetically and gruesomely, and losing various limbs and other appendages, and it actually became touching and moving and sad. But there was too much unnecessary dismembering and extramarital affairs for my liking, and for the effort and plot twists, I'd take Dickens or Eliot any day.

Tara Road, by Maeve Binchy

A complete gem of a book, sweet and knowing and wise and full of that irish lilt and yarn-spinning. I thought it was an excellent portrait of the changing economy of Ireland, the way we cope with tragedy, and the funny ways life has of healing us. As a portrait of tragic death and extramarital affairs, I'd honestly say that although not done in the same tour-de-force way as J.I, I was more affected and absorbed by Binchy's more conventional, gentle, fairy tale.

Five Little Pigs (aka murder in retrospect) by Agatha Christie

The Dame at her best. A hot-tempered artists, his long-suffering wife, his coterie of friends, his mistress, his art... and Hercule Poirot. Hot stuff.

The Blue Castle, by L.M. Montgomery

Lucy Maudlin's only book written for an adult audience: it has a hint of scandalous gothic thriller a la Louisa May Alcott pre-Little Women, a strong dose of irreverent humor, some romance, and the rapturous descriptions of nature we know and love in our Lucy Maud.

Anne of Green Gables, Anne of Avonlea, Anne of the Island, by L.M. Montgomery

The best re-re-re-re-re-read ever, excepting the Emily books.

The Happy Prince (story) and the Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde

The first's a sweet, sad, sentimental, parable
The second we all know-- witty, surreal, morally dubious, and terribly clever. And I'm only halfway done because I've seen it put on as a play and I can't bring myself to move forward.

The Sunday Philosophy Club, Friends Lovers, Chocolate, and The Right Attitude to Rain (fothcoming, thanks for the Galley swvl) by A. McCall Smith

Isabel Dalhousie is a Scottish philosopher-ess, and the descriptions of Edinburgh, the moral quandaries therein, and the man-eating delicatessen owner, Cat, are all fantastic, clever, tender and amusing... a worthy euro-peer to Mma Ramotsowe...

September's comin round the mountain...

2006-08-29T09:48:00.000-07:00

I have no regrets about not being tied in knots over the prospect of school starting again this year... no dread about lesson planning, no anxiousness about my CUNY grades or profs, and no horror of anticipation and dread at the thought of my ex-classroom, "the cave", a massive-lecture-hall sized former home-ec classroom, which was picked by pigeons as their nesting ground, mice as their scampering ground, and electric switches as their turning-off ground.

But I really miss my students. I miss their company, their hilarity, their curiosity, and their scrutiny of my clothes. I wish a hundred times a day that my sense of humor last year was what it is now. But of course, I needed these months off to re-nurture it.

I went to the post office today to mail The Metamorphosis to a former student of mine who needs to read it for honors. I am throughly freaked out at the prospect of two or three kids--or maybe even ten, swinging by my room to say hi, and not finding me there, so I'm going to send them an email next week warning them. And then it will be time for me to move on.

back from canada...

2006-08-27T11:15:00.000-07:00

T

There's nothing worse, methinks, than returning from a vacation somewhere wild and infinitely gorgeous, to New York on a rainy sunday. New York has a beauty all its own, of course, and it's my home and I adore it. But when it rains, and one has just returned from a place where the rain would make everything soft and misty and enchanted, to a place where rain is dreary and washes garbage down the street... well. You see what I mean.

Canada was excellent. From the gentle curves of Prince Edward Island, to the treeless, angry red cliffs and turbulent seas of the North Atlantic hittng the Isles Madeleine, all was frais and belle: beaches woods, and amazing seafood. Being in Francopone Canada was bizarre and amusing; ah, for those quebecois accents and the outpost of real culture in the wild.

And lastly, visiting Green Gables, tourist trap though its become, inspired my entire family to reread the place's namesake book and to my annoyance/secret pleasure, nickname me "Anne" when I get too chatty. It's inspired me to re-read the series literally for the fifth or sixth time if not more, which is saying a lot considering that it's eight books long and I've jist finished two. But and every word, every scene, is like an old friend. So having Anne with me has eased my return to urban life, and coming home to my wonderful amie and the excitement of moving and starting anew is also a plaisir. Adieu, readers.

The sentimental,

F.E.

les photos....the sea in its infinite moods...

mmmm.... Drano!

2006-08-14T14:41:00.000-07:00

AGW spent the last hour pouring liquid chemicals down her bathtub drain ...then scrubbing out the the tub, in honor of it being three weeks until move-out time (again). Bien sur, fellow-ette and her copain are moving on up... to Ft. Washington avenue, a mere three blocks from the gorgeousness that is Ft. Tryon Park. True, the rent, low by NY standards, probably (definitely) means we'll be living beyond our means for a while, but hey... no more roaches, no more jehovah's witnesses knocking on our doors, no more crazy neighbors who stuff the chute full of trash, and no more elevators breaking in the middle of every heatwave.
Yes, it's been an eventful summer. And to counterbalance the current madness, the future prospect of living equidistant from FTP and Frank's, home of truly delicious muffins and iced coffee, is enough to make a life-long New Yorker raise a half-eyebrow in pleasure.

Amazing things I've discovered during my downtime this last week or so:

The texan governor's race is a hoot. I'm going Kinky.
The mysterious, Eastern voice behind several emerging bhangra-ton (for lack of a better term) hits turns out to be another "other."*
Celebrity split-up, round 1 billion: somebody I was with recently called this tragedy. Who was it? (But seriously, those Hawn/Hudson women need some empowerment 101)
Even fascist countries acknowledge global warming.
My own version of Gawker Stalker/entire summer edition: , on 194th and broadway, a very very small Jodie Foster and somewhat less tiny Neil Jordan, filming their new movie. Also, robert Downey Jr.'s wife, a producer. At the Film Forum: Ethan Hawke, buying popcorn. On 80th and Columbus: a dour-looking defeated Joe Lieberman. (insert victorious laugh here)

I'm leaving these parts in a few days for the glory of our neighbor up north (Oh, Canada!) with ma and pa and brother, where we will dine on mussels and build our muscles via biking, hiking, and bodysurfing. I hope my dwindling readership enjoys these last, golden days of summer, and is able to function unimpeded by the neuroses that accompany the anticipation of Autumn (if you're feeling depressed about going back to school/work/moving, etc....just think: corduroy!).

xoxoxo.
<3>
f.ette

*meant with due irony

Sorbet is good.

2006-08-09T20:26:00.000-07:00

There's been a long, long hiatus from my active participation in this blog. I know you've been pining for a little bit of my trademark haterade-drinkin, wit-spewin, system-bringing-down- bloggin'.

But it's hard out there for an imp (ish online persona).

First of all, I'm not really fellow-ette any longer, and I'm not going to lie that that's giving my blogging a bit of a struggle finding a vrais identity. Should I sign my posts "semi-unemployed-but-still-on-payroll-ette"? It doesn't quite roll off the tongue. Neither do I wish to be "journalista," yet/ever because...eww.

(Incidentally, though, for readers who gallivant on the upper east side... check out the chartreause drop-boxes containing this mag to see a little of fellow-ette's work/selling-out. I know there's a semi-full one on 72d and lex... the one on 79th and 3rd got emptied today.)

______________________________________

Other Updates.

For reviews of Miami Vice, which I attended here in WaHi with Shook, Twist, and Swivvle click here (and follow the links, biatch).
To read about the charming Scottish author who's been charming me on my subway rides, click heah. Viva Mma Ramotswe!
Check out a hot hot hot new video, thanks to my EW-reviewin' life companion...
To exult over the ouster of that shonda, Joe Lieberman, just breathe in the sweet sweet aroma of justice.

_____________________________________

And in conclusion...
Still hung up on edjumication? Read this e-mail from a fellow just -uit fellow-ette, which mysteriously made its way to AGW:

I just got the new "NYCTF Bulletin" and it is plastered with stuff for new teachers and it made me really MAD so I just needed to vent... For example, I noticed that it says that your NYC Board of Ed. mentor will visit you TWO TIMES PER WEEK, with one observation and one meeting. My mentor, who by the way was worthless and who I also heard makes a lot of money, visited me AT MOST once per month, and didn't even start observing me until second semester. In fact, my [CUNY college A] mentor who came once a month observed me more than she did. Honestly, if I had had even one person who gave a damn how I did and how I was doing, my first semester would have been so much better. Instead, I got hired so that I could be fired in a year, my school treated me like shit, observations were threats rather than designed to help, and literally no one cared. I got observed ONCE by my principal, and driven out with the threat of a "U" for the year, so I would be kicked out of the program. I guess getting this newsletter reminded me of how I felt a year ago -- like I was nervous but really CARED and wanted to do it and do a good job -- and the year just sucked all of it out of me. I'm just so mad that they set people up for failure and threaten people with paying back money if they quit. Or that they pretend to care and actually just want to get a person in the classroom and scare you enough to stay there. It makes me so mad all over again, even though I'm not even doing it anymore! I want to write an editorial or letter or something about all of this. [Elite College A] RECOMMENDS this program. [Elite College B] probably does too. It's so absurd. The program is just a huge sham. Or something

Just so my readers remember why this all started.

Thanks fellow fellow-ette, for letting your words leak to AGW's readership.

xoxoxox.

/the artist formerly known as fellow-ette.

____________________________

...Oh and Peee ESSSS, the reason for the post title is because I'm eating sorbet right now. Sharon's sorbet, mixed berry, and it's seriously yum. Go, Sharon.

Hot Child in the City

2006-07-23T18:55:00.000-07:00

It's been so humid in the citay that one could cut the proverbial air with a proverbial knife. So I've been dealing with hizzeat by being as cool as I possibly can. It all started with 'ritas and aps on the west side with J-Dawg my bestest bud from HS, and we followed it up with hip-hopping on the lower east, former home of the squalid tenements and sweatshops of our immigrant ancestors, where we hit hotspots Pianos, Schiller's, and some French place that was so authentic, it even had its own Tabac.

Unfortunately, the combination of vin blanc, more plebian booze, and horrifying weather ensured that I had a headache and nausea and was out of commish for the nextish day. Nonetheless I rode out with dad and bro (and clutching stomach to hold on to its contents) to the hottest of suburban destinations, north-central jersey, to chill at the uber-greasy truck stop Pal's Cabin with a renowned architect and grandpa. Then on to Newark, to surprise mom with a pick-up-- she was coming, coming, back back from Cali Cali.
But then the apocolypse, in guise of a torrential thunder and lighting storm, arrived, grounding my mom in Hartford of all places (no offense, M. Twist), and sending eddies of rainwater into the baggage claim area at Newark (or Liberty for you hopeless patriots). So we turned 'round. But the food in the airport was gone, and things looked pretty grim. Lesson for today's world: bring luna bars, agua, and reading material wherever you go.

Saturday night we kicked it in the 10040 with J-dawg and Yo It's... Sunday was Columbus Circle/hell's kitch with a cameo from Twist, and I got new running shoes. They were not Nikes (fuck Nike).

Oh, and the weather finally de-humidified and is dry and delightful. And Entourage made me squirm (booo, Eric).

So that's my keepin' it cool narrative. The end.

roaches killed today: 2
good apartments snatched up this weekend while I was dallying: 2 (but it's cool, yo)
delicious brunches I enjoyed in the 'heights with free muffins, soy cheese omelette option and fresh squeezed Oj- but absolutely no line whatsoever:-1
Number of responses when you google my name and john tierney's together: 1

Where should I live?

2006-07-20T15:09:00.000-07:00

Want to help me out?

Browse
here,
here,
or maybe

here
or
HERE.

a slightly disgruntled former teach.

Oh, procrasturbating

2006-07-18T11:19:00.000-07:00

AGW is going through a crisis of inaction. After a delightful weekend in Brewster, tha cape, with MommaVoz and a hot immigrant bitch, she came back to the sweltering city with her subconscious determined not. to. work. That's not good when you're ostensibly a self-motivated freelancer. But it's not like I've been sitting doing nothing. I've been tooling around with what was once a "long piece of fiction" but has as of today crossed the 20,000 word mark and become a novel-in-progress. This is nothing new for me. I have several novels-in-progress that are very much not in progress, but this one has made it pretty far, and I'm hoping to do something with it, even if that means just sending it around to my friends, Earl of Rochester style.

Or publishing it in its entirety HERE, on AGW, first.

J/K mah peoples. I would never subject me or you to that.

So on the subject for which this blog was originally created, I wrote a letter to the editor responding to John Tierney the prick, who was in turn responding to a brilliant story in the WSJ. The gist of my letter, which won't be published because it was too long, was: test scores prove that kids can learn regardless of environment. But environment determines whether or not kids will pursue education. So public schools need more, not less money. And why white assholes in suits like tierney don't get that is because they're self-satisfied bigots.

**********

That aside, I've been reading up a storm, one of the reasons I think I've been inspired to write so much. Here are my (parenthetical) instantaneous reviews:

Fun Books (or as snobs would say, "Summer Reading")

Academy X (about my Alma Mater) by Andrew Trees
The Devil Wears Prada (boring and poorly written but it hooks ya) by Lauren Weisberger
Circle of Friends (seriously made me feel like I was back in Ireland, ohmigod soooooo good) by Maeve Binchy

Depressing books (or as snobs would say, "Real Books.")

In Cold Blood (siiiick, as my brother would say) by Truman Capote
Wide Sargasso Sea (also siiick, Jane Eyre in Reverse and modernist), by Jean Rhys
The Unbearable Lightness of Being (A lot of references to sex and shit for a book with "lightness" in the title. But the style of the translation is haunting and sticks with you.) by some Czech dude. Milan Kundera. word. Thanks, pasty.

Aight, that' s all folken. Til tomorrow, or the next time I'm bored/procrastinating.

La cucaracha

2006-07-12T10:37:00.000-07:00

Ahh, new york. There's nothing like it. Among the critters we've gotten friendly with up here is the old fashioned roach (no, not that kind of roach, shook) , thanks to the heat and general creakiness of the building. Fortunately, ours are fairly tiny, not like the massive waterbugs from hell that used to crawl out of the drains in Harvard's oldest and most respected "House" dormitories.
I don't know why I'm writing about these fellas (and how I've gotten super at tracking them down, killing them, and smokin' em out) except to gross out any jappy readers out there. Because if you're not shaking your manicure in disgust and saying "Ewww!' and then turning on those heels and guiltily coming back for more, I'm not satisfied.

Also, note to moms: There aren't that many, okay?

Item 2:

So the story I've been working on for my little family magazine that could is about finding the perfect nanny. After interviewing an intense number of intense mothers, I started thinking about my own students and how that aggressive parental zeal was lacking in their lives. After all, working class parents don't have time or money to do the kinds of insane things the bourgeoise and or wealthy do for their kids-- but ironically (and this is why I hate capitalism) their kids need it more. Without tutoring, and nannies, and college counselors, rich kids would still be bright and literate and set up for success.

Item 3:
This is the foundation I want to start to rectify the imbalance described above:

_________

You are invited to a benefit for...
The Nest is Never Empty Foundation

Pairing empty nest manhattan parents with public high school students in the Bronx to give them:

cultural excursions, to museums, films, and parks
Tutoring-- to sign these kids up with tutors, literacy coaches, Kaplan, regents prep people, or what have you...
College counseling-- from finding four-year schools, to helping with applications, to haggling for financial aid...
Mentoring-- to check up on students' homework, social lives and emotional lives.

_________________________

Now in no way would these empty-nest boomers be replacement parents. Rather, they would use their formidable system-beating skills to help guide the families of students who weren't picked for specialized high schools, prep-for-prep, or other life-changing alternatives as young kids, but who could aim just a little higher if they had the right guide. Getting these kids into SUNYs instead of CUNYS, for instance, would be a huge accomplishment. And the insane energy so many NY parents devote to their kids would go somewhere useful, instead of to refilling their Xanax prescription or retiring to play golf.

Now, George Soros, are you reading this? Sponsor me!

Washington Heights = Paradise

2006-07-10T06:36:00.000-07:00

Birds, not bandits, lurk outside my home...

Okay, so last night I kept my hard-working boyfriend awake for half an hour with a dash of insane paranoia about someone being outside our window, and I'm sorry, but I'm not far from wrong.
Because this morning, after he unbedgrudginingly trotted off to work, I woke up again (weak, and weary) to an insistent tap-tap-tapping at that very window--blearily, I assumed it was either a pigeon, squirrel, or rapist (from the night's Plutonian shore), and glared at it from across the room. But then I noticed its bright hue, stumbled for my glasses, and lo and behold, 'twas a blue jay. And it was still rapping, very authoritatively, at our window. Because we're so near the park (Ft. Tryon park, that is), we get all sorts of winged critters-- blue jays, non-pigeony doves, starlings and gorgeous red cardinals.

Quoth the Blue Jay: Nevermore!

Okay, you're thinking, she's lost it! She used to blog about do-rag sporting, Cam' ron loving teenagers and psychotic school administrators, and now she's blathering about BIRDS. What has happened to our snarky, spunky, angry fellow-ette? The answer is... summer has happened, bitches, and if you're so desperate for sordid tales, go buy a Zane novel and don't bother me. I like hangin' out with the birdies.

In other news:

-Fellow-ette partied this weekend with the ultra-orthodox yehudim and engaged in a spirited, weekend-long discussion/debate with swvl about the relative cultishness of various "cults" from hasidim to Jews for Jesus to the moonies.

-We feted briefly with a group of wealthy new york tweens, a group just as exclusive and closed-minded as the above.

-We bought crocs and oh how we love em.

-Speaking of footgear, Fellow-ette is starting to run again and needs new sneakers: advice?

-Fellow-ette got accepted into NYU's Draper program, a cool, part-time master's program that she is currently debating attending. Thoughts?

-France lost the world cup which sucks (though the Italians are dishy), Entourage last night was actually funny and Vince is maturing, and oh, yeah, the world is going to shit. And that is why I'm not touching current events with a ten foot blog-pole.

/Over and out.

Tick-Tock

2006-07-07T14:54:00.000-07:00

Ten minutes 'till the second interview of my newly-discovered journalism career (this is the one rescheduled after mucho phone tag on Weds). I have figured out how to get my wireless headset thingamagig working with a cordless phone (but not my ghetto-ass cell), and despite its awesomeness, I still have a hard time mastering a professional voice on the phone. My homies M. Twist, Shook and Swvl are all my inspiration for their excellent reporting skills and their "business voices"-- tho no one beats M. Twist's grown up voice-- and I aim to reach their level.

Anyhooch, it's funny trying to be all assured and businesslike when I have not reported a story in over three years, and even when I did, I was on the student beat because my lack of a serious tone enabled students to trust and spill their guts to me, while administrators were a wall I could never crack.
But perhaps my disarming humility is a plus ; )

But it's all good. For as Shook says, "our bylines are spreading up and down the northeast corridor like kudzu." So mazel tov, and shabbat shalom. Tonight I'm going to an Oneg Shabbat with some seriously religious cousins of my main squeeze, and I promised him I would refrain from making any "God is dead" type comments until we got home.

Real Time... the life of a journo

2006-07-05T09:24:00.000-07:00

I'm in the midst of the part of the features-writing process I hate the most; the call and call-back stage. After a week of playing phone tag with his PR rep, I had all but given up on ever making contact with my interview subject. But just as I, clad in spandex and ready to hit the gym, was preparing to make one more futile call before i did so, she called me back of her own volition.

"So he can do the interview today," said the PR rep, "but I have to go to a funeral."
"Sorry," I muttered.
"So here's his cell-phone number."
"Okay," said I, "do you have his assistant's number in case I need to reach her."
"As I said," she said dutifully giving me the 310-number I requested, "I'd be happy to do the go-between today but I have a FUNERAL." (I wondered if she'd heard my sorry from before. )
"Okay, I said, then I'll call his assistant and call him."
"She's not in her office,' she replied. "It's in LA.'
"Oh. Then I'll call him." (Now feeling like the pea-sized amateur I am.)

So before calling the cellphone number given to me, I put together the nifty recording sytem I'd blown 100 bucks on last week. I connected the phone to a pair of headphones, a digital recorder, and a recorder-phone-headphone connector, and voila!

...Except absolutely none of it worked. I think it might be because I dropped my phone in the toilet (again) a few weeks back... when you live in a studio where the bathroom door is the only door you can actually close, it's bound to happen folks.

Hopefully I'll get to do the interview the ole' fashioned way, with a phone cradled lovingly in my shoulder blade and fingers flying across the proverbial keyboard. But only time will tell. More deeets to come later.

*************************

Meanwhile, readers, I hope your holiday was as nice as mine. I attended two hip indie rock concerts, one inside at night, one oustide during the sweltering afternoon. I went for a swim, had a yummy barbecue dinner (thanks, pops), spent some time overlookin' the hudson, watched a nest of baby birds, and spent some time with yo it's... and swvl wandering Ft. Washington avenue, where we observed four different sets of fireworks in varying locales from our hilltop position. Then, urchin-like, we perched outside someone's building and ate us some muffins. Word. Happy fucking independence day.

Bragging Rights

2006-06-30T12:10:00.000-07:00

Fellow-ette needs to take some time to CROW. Her life-partner is well on his way to his first byline in a national glossy, her brother absolutely destroyed that test of tests, the LSATS (and he also won a huge scholarship to study literature in Scotland), and her bloggin' buddies are taking the world of daily print journalism by storm. And we ain't talking about their campus daily, that old rag!

So yes, fellow-ette is swelled with pride. And she's said goodbye to her massive and nasty school in the Bronx, which ended with two crowning moments.
The first moment:
When one of her students came in on report card day and was told she passed the regents, the first thing she did was turn to her teacher and say "THANK YOU, MISS!"
She didn't say "yo, I rock," or "I'm the best." How un-teenagery can you get? Fellow-ette almost cried on the spot.
The second moment was a comment from her AP that a particularly humiliating encounter involving him, her classroom, and a deranged student hiding behind a portable white-board "made his memoirs."
Ok, I'm switching to first-person here to better express myself. So this was his final passive aggressive fuck-you, a pathetic reaction to my unceremonious departure, and you know, I hope my memoirs of my time in "the system" come out before his do. But I don't really care. Because as one of my students emailed me (and this is a direct quote):

"Ha! school is finnal [sic] over, which means one thing. FREEDOM!!!"

I couldn't agree more.

The Life Pursuit-- (I always cry at endings)

2006-06-27T11:58:00.000-07:00

...except when i score freee tickets after a mere two hours online!

So my pursuit ended up being more like a 10k than a marathon. So shoot me. Anyway, today's hooky-ticket=buyin' spree was delightful.

My latest trauma: I'm now working three jobs, at least until tomorrow, and the guy I'm trying to interview for the first freelancing gig is a big corporate hotshot whose PR rep is leaving me hanging.
Still, I'm thrilled to be earning my stripes as a writer. So I won't complain.
Yet. Until the next blog: scribblin' gone wild! with its clever creator and author, "journalista."

Over and out.

/Fellow-ette

The Life Pursuit-- Hour two

2006-06-27T10:01:00.000-07:00

Dear Catastrophe Waitress...

So the kindly frenchman who was taking a ten minute break hasn't been back in an hour. My guess is he has abandoned the life pursuit.
I took a ten minute break myself to run to barnes and noble, pee, and pick up what i thought was a simple veggie wrap and cranberry juice.
Not so.
The incompetent servers at teh B&N cafe stuck the thing in a panini maker and seemed totally unfazed by my nercous pacing throughout the entire cafe.
When it was finally ready, they took a lesiurely stroll around the behind-the-counter area to find the proper holding container for the sandwich while i jumped up and down like there were living coals beneath my feet.
At last, food in hand, bodily needs attended to, i dashed back to find the line just as I had left it. I opened my sandwich, prepared to take a delicious bite.
It was a greasy, inedible mess.
And they forgot to give me a napkin.

___________________________________

there are a bunch of really loud and poser indie kidz in front of me in line. The clear center of their crew is a couple; he is wearing a tie-dyed shrit, orange pants, and a large jewfro/beard convo. He clearly wishes this were a phish concert.
She on the other hand, is more hip than hippie-- long red hair, chic shades, birkenstocks, and the loudest, most obnoxious mouth I've heard, as she drapes herself around her laddie and they debate the difference between emo and indie.
Shoot me,

Meanwhile, the other hippie high-schooler behind me are discussing how when you drop acid, "like, greens are SOOOOO green."
Fellow-ette wouldn't know. But she does know that magic mushrooms actually make the trees talk to you.

The Life Pursuit

2006-06-27T08:59:00.000-07:00

LIVE BLOGGING from the sidewalks of new york, as i sit, butt on the sidewalk, stealing wireless, at the beginning of a five hour wait for free-ass belle and sebastian tickets. In honor of the occasion, i wore cut-off jeans, a velvet underground t-shirt, and a detached, moody demeanor.
Upon arrival on line, the shirt was immediately complimented by a nice, waif-like young lad with flowing locks and mediocre skin. "Hey, man, I love your shirt."
I knew you would.

HOUR ONE:
The nice french man next to me and I are agreeing to watch each other's stuff for intervals of ten minutes. My ten minutes are going to be a dash to the pizza place across the way and the astor place barnes and noble.
My butt is getting numb.
The girl next to me is patronizing me all the way. MY enthusiasm for our street-camping adventure is very un-hip, je sais. I just tried to make a joke about the dorky guy who asked me about belle and sebastian. "What are y'all waitin' for?" "Who are THEY?"
She didn't get it.

More updates to come.

The End of the Road

2006-06-25T09:23:00.000-07:00

Many teachers become teachers because they want to change the world, lower the achievment gap, make a difference, and give back. But let's face it; a lot of teachers who stick it out really enjoy both the power and the pedantic pulpit they feel entitled to due to their position.

Perhaps that's why my departure, and the departure of other rookies, is so rankling to those who have stuck it out--it's seen as an abdication, a de-validation, if not a miserable retreat. It's none of those things, though. It's just a choice, the right one for me, and I'm quite happy about it too.

I'm not sorry I did this this year. In the end, my time was not soooo horrible, even if I did come to my blog on all the worst days. I am weatherbeaten yes, yet I feel anything but defeated-- particularly after fantastic regents results for my students (almost half of my sophomores who sat for the test passed). I am eternally grateful for the lessons I've learned this year, which were from the teens I taught, not from the administration, beaurocracy, or veteran teachers. And that's more than okay, because I do believe (and perhaps this was my downfall) that the younger we are, the closer we are to certain truths and insights. Never is our sense of justice and injustice stronger than when we are adolescents, but never is our frank understanding of the world's petty transactions and cruelties stronger either. It's an awesome thing to witness even from seven or eight years down the road.

And yes, those of us children of the ivory tower who spend a year or two in the inner city before re-entering the rat race--cliche that we are--have that much more understanding of injustice and cruelty. We learn viscerally just how tall the walls our society has built around its ghettos are, just how the same all groups of people are when one comes down to it, and just how arbitrary the idea of privilege is anyway.

The only people I am thankful for within the BOE system though are my fellow first-years, who didn't begrudge my leaving for a second and simply said they'd miss me (or left at the same time), who downed Daiquiris and beers with me at the Bay Plaza Applebees and various Jerome avenue dives and diners, who watched Youtube videos with glee during our lunch breaks, and who fell over backwards with laughter as we strove to imitate our kids. In short, they rock, and should really keep rocking. Fo' Sho.

Over and out for today,

The ramblin' and rantin'...
Fellow-ette

All good, bad and ugly things must come to an end.

2006-06-14T18:33:00.000-07:00

My teaching career ended yesterday with a slam. A body-slam, that is. Four of my more rambunctious students spent the last fifteen minutes of class demonstrating a coordinated imitation of WWF wresting, down to the homoerotic holds, the coordinated slapping-off to demonstrate partner-shifting, and the melodramatic body slams. I almost cried, I was laughing so hard (and I prayed very loudly that no one get hurt).

And that was the end. There was no, "Miss, you've changed my life" or "Miss, I'm never going to give up thanks to you." There were lots of "I'll miss you this summer"s and hugs, and smiles, and grins at the funny awards I gave out (including the "stop beastin'" award, the "it's cause i'm black" award, and the "fashionably late" award).

Anticlimactic, to say the least, though we did play a killer game of bingo which demonstrated that they'd learned something. And some of my special kids really have ...for lack of a better word, blossomed this year. I even cried last night at the thought of one particularly adorable freshman whom I might not see again.

But the hijinx at my school remain the same. I arrived headachy this morning to a day of being a "reserve" proctor, and discovered five minutes before the global history exam that I was needed to cover a room. Of course, this was conveyed to me via a nasty announcement on the loudspeaker that I was ten minutes late. Late to what, might I ask? My psychic appointment?

None of the kids in my test room had pencils; and after I was "relieved" no one knew where i was supposed to be, and so i spent a good three hours post-proctoring sitting in a classroom I knew to be testing=free, watching an interview with Paul Krugman online and gmail chatting shook with the repeated 'I am borrrrreeeed".

Also, Frantic, my co-teacher, took amazing pictures of the whole department. In my classroom, the kids posed adorably, but with their hats and do-rags on (what did I care, they took them off after the photo sesh was over?) and this message was relayed to Frantic from an administrator:

>Also, you especially don't want to post pictures of kids wearing hats and
>dew-rags [sic]. It appears that [our school] is lax in following this rule in the
>classroom. While there might be some laxness [sic] in the halls due to the shear >[sic]volume of kids and the minimal number of adults, there should be zero
>laxness of this rule [uhhh...laxness(?) OF this rule?] in your class [actually it was Ms. Fellow-ette's class. Sorry, buddy]. >

Speaks for itself, no?

It looks like my career as a freelance writer might be taking off (slowly) in the near future. If so, what are my readerships' recommendations? What should I do with this blog?
I await responses eagerly.

Another email...

2006-06-12T15:35:00.000-07:00

Dear Ms.[Fellow-ette],

Can i please ask you for a tiny favor? It will be really appriciated...
If you say yes keep reading. If not, erase this message. (decide after reading the whole thing)

I please ask you for a page with all the literary elements that may appear in the regents with it's definiton. You don't have to write the definitions, I can do that by myself. I ask you this because im having problems having to remember all this vocabulary words that we used a long time ago.

Thx for taking your time to read this,
Att: [student's name]

PS: If you think you wasted your time by teaching this year at [school name], well you are wrong. I couldn't have a better english teacher. Also I didn't trew away my review sheets, in fact! I have it folded on my binder, thx for it :-

Correspondance avec les etudiants

2006-06-10T09:59:00.000-07:00

Here are some emails I've received from students recently:
_________________________________________

[in response to an email reminding some of them to finish an essay]

From:[student a] ladykiprich@redacted.com (kiprich is a reggae star)
To: "Ms. [fellow-ette]" <[fellowette]@gmail.com>
Date: Jun 7, 2006 8:02 PM
Subject: Re: finish your essay!

ok ms.[f,]do not forget to buy the harry potter tape/dvd

_________________________________________

From: [student b] t_bone@redacted.com
To: fellowette@gmail.com
Date: Jun 8, 2006 8:43 PM
Subject: RE: finish your essay!

Dammit, [fellow-ette's FIRST NAME]. I can't find the Essay i hardly worke on... Can i send it to you friday afternoon? cause i have to rewrite it >.< It's a pain in the ass... God im gonna have them by sat afternoon or sunday morning. Hope it's not too late

_________________________________________

during class, after finishing a test, student c emails this to me:

From: [student c] ladyseductive130@redacted.com
To: fellow-ete@gmail.com
Date: May 26, 2006 10:11 AM
Hi ms [fellow-ette], its [student c], [student d] gets on my nerves!!!

NOTE: student d gets on my nerves too.
_________________________________________

And lastly:

From: [student e]
To: [fellow-ette's REAL, non-teach email address]@gmail.com
Date: Jun 9, 2006 1:21 PM
Subject: u wack

u a loser, u wack, u a geek lol
_________________________________________

Oh, the adorableness of it all...

two days and counting til I stop being an authority figure and remain merely a cog in the state-test grading-slash-proctoring wheel.

It's Too Darn Hot-slash-stormy

2006-06-01T14:20:00.000-07:00

..so, fellow-ette is sort of semi-retired these days, for avariety of reasons. The first is that school, and teaching, are fine, and that even when they're not fine (like when my students are in denial about their upcoming state mandated exam) it's all very ho-hum and funny and handle-able.

I'm having a blast with my co-teachers at lunch, mocking our students and selves, proving that the summer is going to our heads too.

Today there was a power outage at my school due to the massive thunderstoms, and then an evacuation and pandemonium. It was perverse fun. After a mad dash to the subway, and a long ride to dry off, i was thrilled to exit in manhattan to dry skies. But a block later, that same storm caught up to me, and doused me again. Meanwhile, my boyfriend who was headed up to our apartment in washington heights slipped through the storm in minutes. It sits here, and I'm waiting it out.

Much love to the remaining readers of this dying blog.

Fellow-etta

Why oh why

2006-05-25T17:41:00.000-07:00

am i so gosh-darned in love with my students right now? Is it the pained look of concentration on their faces as they attacked a full-length practice regents today, the delight in their eyes as we chatted about WWF, the pseudo-porn of Zeferelli's R and J, x-men, and their jamaican pot-smoking uncles (that was only one of them), or was it both? Or is it that the end is so... damn... near?
Who knows... but I feel, in a very perverse way, that things haven't been so bad after all. I'm glad I'm here and not even that bitter. Now how's that for a storybook ending?

Been a Long time...

2006-05-23T14:05:00.000-07:00

Since the fwavl-o-sphere (or the peeps-o-sphere) has quieted down, and teachers like me now get to school so soon before they must actually teach that their blog-browsing time is cut off, AGW has experienced a dearth of visitors. I'd say COME BACK! but I've gotten so apathetic, even I don't visit my blog, or any others. Not even gawker. Now that's sad.

Nonetheless, faithful few, I have an observation or two to share.

*First, filed under the "aren't they precious?" category: Today, while talking about the "Rose by any other name would smell as sweet" speech in R &J, one of my students kept insisting it wasn't true. She kept saying "if my name was Bungkwana and I had huge braces that stuck out, you wouldn't still love me miss." And I kept saying, "no, your beautiful personality would be the same." And so on. It was SO CUTE. wooo.

*
Second of all, filed under the "I am an eavesdropper" category: Today on the long, long, long subway ride home I tried to eavesdrop on two older teachers chatting passionately about the profession. One of them made an amazing point which I want to highlight here: he was commenting on the way the litigious nature of our society keeps disruptive students in the classroom because of their "right to an education." But what if, he suggested, a group of average, diligent students kicked up a fuss and sued the Board of Ed, saying that by keeping said loudmouths into the classroom, it was cutting their (good kids') learning time in half and denying them THEIR right to an education. Oho! Whose rights matter now, bitches?

Okay, so my response to this is WORD. Dude, it would really bring a shitstorm flying down on the old permissive crappy BOE. I know in charter/public schools in boston and baltimore, some teachers can throw kids out of the classroom. But in New York, with its macho culture, teachers are all about the "hey, I can handle these punks" and admins are like "hey, what are YOU doing wrong that these kids are threatening and harassing each other?"

Now don't get me wrong. I love my punks. I mean, I really love them. That's my main problem; I spent too much time this year trying to coax, tease, and cajole them into being good, so that by the end of the year their behavior at its base had barely changed. But kids need to understand that their right to an education ends when they stop someone else's education. Or their right to anything (say, freedom from incarceration, freedom to work) ends when they violate other's rights. Whether I agree with our punitive society or not, this is the society into which we're sending our kids. And it's not such a terrible thing to impress upon them how important it is to respect their peers-- to understand that doing all your OWN classwork does not somehow make up for interrupting, being loud, or bothering others. For self-centered teenagers in a "me" culture, this lesson needs to be drilled in harder.

So average joes out there, my message is: SUE THOSE BASTARDS!

*Lastly, filed under the grad school sucks category: Grad school sucks. Particularly the part where you have to write 10 page papers in one night about theories of literacy. Not that this is happening to anyone I know. Or anything.

Cheers.

Fellow-ette

Romeo, Romeo...

2006-05-20T10:15:00.000-07:00

So picture this: It's Thursday afternoon, and you've just had two fantastic days in the classroom, introducing Romeo and Juliet to your freshman, preparing hard for the regents listening passage with your sophomores, being uninterrupted by fights and disruptions thanks to the suspension/cutting of your favorite delinquents, you're felling misty-eyed about the bonds you've made with a couple of precocious, emotionally self-aware students, and you sit down at the end of your school day and pour it all into a blog entry that includes the word "fuck". You put the finishing touches on it, check for typos, press "send" and suddenly you get your favorite message: "Access Denied; the site has exceeded its tolerance of questionable words." Just like that all your writing and emotion vanishes into cuberspeace, irretrievable despite back clicks galore.

Somehow it's a metaphor for the whole experience of working for the BOE... those of you who share an employer with me will understand the metaphor without my having to go into it.

Anyway, lost are those reflections, but I will try to recapture them briefly:

Listening passage prep: We practiced for Regents Task 1 all week and took a quiz on Friday. It was really fantastic to actually watch my students' minds and their skills grow. And then there was this: one passage was hardly relevant to my kids' lives. It was Virginia Woolf speaking about “The Angel in the house,” the voice of Victorian propriety that haunted her when she tried to write. As the angel warned her to mask her mind behind art and deceit, one of my students, unable to contain himself, shouted out, “but that’s racist!” Then realizing his mistake, he said “I mean, I mean, umm, sexist.” It was totally brilliant.

Romeo and Juliet: a mixture of success and failure. The kids are entranced by the story and the format of reading a play in class, but they hate the language. Plus, everytime there's a "what, ho!" they dissolve into giggles. I'm looking forward to playing them scenes from both Luhrman and Zeferrelli, not to mention playing them the Indigo Girls singing "Lovestruck Romeo..." and Lou Reed singing "Romeo had Juliette" as the weeks go by.

Getting rid of "bum-ass you know whats"-- the success I've had in my 10th grade classrooms minus two or three superpunky ADHDers just confirms my belief that certain students need to have their sorry arses hauled out of the mainstream classroom and into somewhere where they can have individualized attention.

Spring Cleaning...

2006-05-14T13:55:00.000-07:00

Man, is fellow-ette tired. She woke up this mom's day early, and has been erranding, cleaning out her closet, gathering laundry, unloading/re-loading the dishwasher, stacking shoes with their mates, sticking earrings with their mates, throwing out old receipts/menus/professional development flyers, folding up winter clothes and packing them away, sticking loose change in a body butter canister, and vaguely pondering her future. She's also been discussing the new gmail photo feature with shook:

fellow-ette: have yougiven thought to your gmail pic?
shook the spot: haha yep!
but i dunno...
fellow-ette: no one wants to be the first!
[redacted gossip about people we know vis-a-vis their pictures]
shook the spot: the question is, does it need to be a presentable pic?
fellow-ette: right... is it a facebook-style glam shot, a professional-looking mug, or the stonedest-looking pic you got?
shook the spot: i'm thinking professional-with-a-twist
but i'm pretty stoned in every picture i have of me
fellow-ette i feel ya

it goes on... then i picked a photo, but it was sideways, and much drama ensued. Yahoo.

But I meander. So back to my school, with its pearly gates of metal detectors, with its sentinels of bored cops, with its citizens sporting nikes they often can't afford, that memorable place for the discussion of which this VERY blog was created. The days have been pretty manageable since vacation-- nothing too horrible or exciting. I'm feeling a lot of separation anxiety about my kids. They are so good, for the most part, and so unmotivated too, and that combination makes their teacher worried all the time.
Plus, they are so alive and funny and interesting and stimulating, even in negative ways, with their new slang expressions, their observations about my wardrobe, their melodramas and insights, and their amazing litany of pop lyrics. They really amaze me. I don't know how to tell them I'm not going to be back next year.

IMPACT folks were in the building on Friday, leading to a flurry of surpsise "GIVE US A TYPED LESSON PLAN" visits-- for some odd reason, fellow-ette was omitted from this search. Which was good, because fridays are official bullshit days in her classroom. She did quiz her students on the literary elements though, which many of them are beginning to understand much better. Conflict, dialogue, setting, characterization. Say it after me!

That's it for now... have a lovely mom's day; shout-out to fellow-ette's mom in Yosemite hiking the gorges, her grandmom socializing uptown, and all the other moms who raise their children right and get lots of shit from us nonetheless.

Today's Science Times...

2006-05-09T18:55:00.000-07:00

actually read it cover to cover.

Let me know if you agree that this interview with a departing congressman is not, like, seriously and unexpectedly sad and moving.

And also, for all those educators and sex-advocates (just kidding on the latter [not]!) who are concerned with these abstinence-only pledges and chastity rings and whatnot, this somewhat confusing survey result just goes to show that if anything, teens need an open, frank diaolgue about sex and its consequences, not some mystical born again hocus-pocus bullcrap. Like the pamphlet entitled "God Created Sex" which I found resting on a students' desk after class one day. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

Thank you for smocking

2006-05-08T19:21:00.000-07:00

WARNING: incoherent rant follows

One of my students insists on spelling smoking that way when he freewrites about his weed-laced exploits,much to my chagrin. The spelling, that is.

I also just saw the movie, which was amusing and sharp. But I've been led to digress from discussing the spinmeister portrayed therein by Aaron Eckhart. Why do I digress, you ask? Well, it's because of a thread on the imdb message board for "Thank You" star Maria Bello which discusses the amount of pubic hair she showed in a "History of Violence." Apparently, the posters generally agreed that the pubes were too much/unnecessary.

ARGH.

I like to talk about women's bodies as much as the next guy or gal-- they're more interesting in general (and infinitely more portrait-able) than mens'-- and I'm also in a personal not-so-feminist mood these days, but pricks (and I use the word on purpose) like these always get the Steinem in me RILED UP. Note to people like this: stop complaining about women's bods when they're portrayed in any way that de-pornificates them or makes them seem human or real, and then take a look at your own flabby or scrawny and probaly hairy ass, wasted away from too much time on the computer salivating over actresses' nude scenes. You pervs are DEAD TO ME.

On a similar note, I gave all my sophomores a lecture on the connection between Piri Thomas' homophobia/sexism and the racism he encounters to the tune of "If white society makes him feel emasculated, he decides to take it out on even more disadvantaged people so that he can regain his manliness but in the end he's only adding to the hierarchy" blah blah blah. I wanted them to understand that in writing about his homophobia, Thomas isn't condoning it, but rather confessing. It was the quietest my sophomores have been in ages. I hope their discomfort was productive to their self-growth.

Finally, today "M," a student I've bemoaned on AGW before, told me I was his "favoritest" teacher; after all the "This class is boring" and "fuck school" I endure regularly, I was suprised by how moved I was. A little positive reinforcement goes a long ass way.

Got them Sunday Blues...

2006-05-07T18:50:00.000-07:00

there is so much to catch up on in fellow-ette land, including

*fellow-ette and her fellow are officially shacking up in washington heights!

*fellow-ette has a horrible run-in with a delinquent five minutes before the bell rings on a friday!

*fellow-ette grades final exams!

*fellow-ette teaches with a hangover!

But since my eyes are tipping towards closed, and I missed the sopranos, I durst not tarry, or dally (or tally, for that matter), and thus we shall re-encounter each other on the morrow, readers fair, whereupon thou shalt be learned of the things discussed herein and heretofore.

Here's to another week.

PS Check this out.

Colbert Scandal A-Brewin'

2006-05-03T12:25:00.000-07:00

Truthiness, part II.

Looks like I'm not the only one peeved at the friggin' NY Times for ommitting any mention of the Colbert speech at the White House Correspondents' dinner... so now the Grey Lady has changed its tune to "Cry Me a River." Does that make any sense? Whatever, I'm going with it.

Check out this string of livid comments from smart people. If the Times doesn't publish the angry letter I sent on Monday (I'm giving them til Friday-- you here that Times:? You're on notice.), I will posts its contents here, because frankly it was so unbelievably witty i need to show it off.

So stay tuned, faithful readers.

The Circle Game

2006-05-03T11:58:00.000-07:00

Today in my 6th and 7th period class, the usually-dominant and obnoxious clique (with frustratingly regular attendance) was gone... all, i learned, either "in" or "at" a fight. sigh. the class was deflated without their perky and bullying and often amusing presence, and so, halfway through, i dragged all my students and their desks into a circle. it was an amazing experience... they resisted, but there was something about it as it happened, when they realized it wasn't kindergarten but rather, college that they were preparing for, and that I could see all of them, and they could all see each other...and suddenly books opened, voices quieted. I really liked it, the mellowness, the sophistication. But then I started thinking, oh f*ck, what if all high school classes in the inner city were like this, this small, and in a circle, with everyone accountable from day one, and that just got me all pissed for a change.

So we shall see if i decide to keeo the circle thing going. But it gave us a moment, and Joni Mitchell would be proud.

**Oh, speaking of badass sixties figures, I also played Neil Young's "The Needle and the Damage Done" and we compared it to Piri Thomas' description of junkies...

Good, Bad and Ugly

2006-05-02T18:55:00.000-07:00

Bad: M, a super-hyper active student with severe problems [with whom I'm in a pseudo-detente all the time] walked in late today and proceeded, within minutes, to make two girls horribly uncomfortable/distraught by "cutting ass" on their appearances. A phone call home and a long talk about how women's appearances are an off-limits subject for "playin'" as well as ten minutes of silence for the whole class cause i was pissed ensued. More discipline to come tomorrow.

Good: A particularly thoughtful student,"D" who had previously made some sketchy comments about the immigration protests watched the news, reflected, came in today and told me he regretted what he'd said. [admittedly, this might have to do with his learning that some protestors were in an ethnic group closer to his, but still, i was so proud of him]. That's a huge thing to happen to a teenager at my school. Yay, "D"!

Ugly: my garbage can springing a leak halfway through the day.

"Truthiness to Power"

2006-05-01T14:42:00.000-07:00

Stephen Colbert is more my hero than ever.

Watch an excerpt,

or

Read this story about what he said at the White House Correspondednts dinner.

Some key quotes:

And though I am a committed Christian, I believe that everyone has the right to their own religion, be you Hindu, Jewish or Muslim. I believe there are infinite paths to accepting Jesus Christ as your personal savior.

Now, I know there are some polls out there saying this man has a 32% approval rating. But guys like us, we don't pay attention to the polls. We know that polls are just a collection of statistics that reflect what people are thinking in "reality." And reality has a well-known liberal bias.

I stand by this man. I stand by this man because he stands for things. Not only for things, he stands on things. Things like aircraft carriers and rubble and recently flooded city squares. And that sends a strong message, that no matter what happens to America, she will always rebound -- with the most powerfully staged photo ops in the world.

But the rest of you, what are you thinking, reporting on NSA wiretapping or secret prisons in eastern Europe? Those things are secret for a very important reason: they're super-depressing. And if that's your goal, well, misery accomplished. Over the last five years you people were so good -- over tax cuts, WMD intelligence, the effect of global warming. We Americans didn't want to know, and you had the courtesy not to try to find out. Those were good times, as far as we knew.

But, listen, let's review the rules. Here's how it works: the president makes Bdecisions. He's the decider. The press secretary announces those decisions, and you people of the press type those decisions down. Make, announce, type. Just put 'em through a spell check and go home. Get to know your family again. Make love to your wife. Write that novel you got kicking around in your head. You know, the one about the intrepid Washington reporter with the courage to stand up to the administration. You know - fiction!

Because really, what incentive do these people have to answer your questions, after all? I mean, nothing satisfies you. Everybody asks for personnel changes. So the White House has personnel changes. Then you write, "Oh, they're just rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic." First of all, that is a terrible metaphor. This administration is not sinking. This administration is soaring. If anything, they are rearranging the deck chairs on the Hindenburg!

Okay,I could obviously keep going and going and going. But seriously, this shit is amazing.
So in honor of the man himself, here's my own anti-dead-to-me list:

Badass celebs who stand up for shit:

Neil Young (hear living with war here)
Stephen Colbert
Pink
The Clooneymeister
Brangelina (mostly cause they be so hot right now)

Alright, that's it for now. I am in awe, Stephen.

and don't forget to THANK STEPHEN!

Regents Retching...

2006-04-30T19:47:00.000-07:00

I spent my Sopranos-hour, as well as time in Starbucks, at my parents' dining room table, and elsewhere frantically grading midterms-- I now have two out of three classes done. However, I've come to a depressing conclusion. In helping sophomores prepare for an ELA regents-style essay, my directions have hurt their "actual" essay writing skills. These regents essays that cause them to jump around from a critical lens to two books, or from a passage to a chart to a "task," actually hurts their ability to write a clear, concise, five-paragraph essay. while they're hitting the major regents points, they;ve lost a lot of the coherence they had been building towards this fall. What they should be writing about is about two poems or one novel, or something more simple and literary. That kind of writing is a much more classic, college-oriented skill in my humble opinion. What is with all this "real-world" bullshit they stick on the test?

Perhaps I sound muddled. I'm just so frustrated by these damn exams... they remind me too much of how angry I am, of how much I care, of how biased the system remains. F*ck the regents.

On another note, this weekend was gorgeous...and fairly productive for once. I think my next locale might be in Washington Heights, at least for the summer... I have to brush up on some Spanish and be ready to jog in Ft. Tryon park instead of my lame-ass elliptical training on the upper east side! I am keeping my fingers crossed that everything works out, so I can ape the super-cool ZM and LK, the main members of my teacher crew, and spread out in some hip new digs.

*And oh, yeah finally, a former colleague of mine is doing some research for a professor at Harvard about sex-ed in the public schools. Any of you people in the teacher blogosphere/edwize readers have a copy of a sex-ed syllabus you could send her way? Let me know by posting a comment or sending me a missive. Word to your moms.

Thas it for now.
-Fellow-ette, for whom balmy weather has meant an abundance of sweet nothings whispered and/or typed into the ears of her oh-so-intelligent blog-readership.

Angst-O-Rama

2006-04-30T13:36:00.000-07:00

Just finished reading Prep, by Curtis Sittenfeld, which i tore through in a mere 24 hours or so instead of grading midterms. The book isn't perfect, but damn, the way it captures the psyche of the adolescent was unbelievable. It brought back all sorts of memories and uncomfortable feelings from the hallways and paths of my prep school (which seems positively plebian compared to Prep's Ault School), and also reminded me in not insignificant ways of my students, far removed from the aristocracy such schools foster. The way they scrutinize each other's clothing, their extreme self-consciousnes, their muttered responses and downturned eyes. All of it is there. And the absolute obsession with cataloging everything about oneself, one's peers, one's world, as if thereby you can have control of it, was equally heartrending to see in print.

Reading a good book leaves a person in pain, in a daze, unready to face even the beautifulest of Spring days! But I must, if only because Tony Soprano awaits me in a mere 4 hours.

Adieu to April!

Ms. Fellow-ette.

Snarkified E-mail I sent to my CUNY-affiliated mentor

2006-04-26T15:51:00.000-07:00

To: [redacted]
From [Fellow-ette]
Subject: your visit

Hi [Redacted]! Thanks for stopping by room [redacted] and your helpful comments. I have one quibble though.
On your comment sheet, you mentioned that I might have prepared my students for Bob Dylan by discussing Alicia Keys and Mary J. Blige with them. Although both of these ladies make excelllent pop-soul/R&B, they are pretty far from the protest tradition Dylan in his folk years embodied. Had I wanted to compare Dylan to social protest music more "relevant" to the students-- although I wonder if they needed that giving the compelling subject matter of "Hattie Carroll"--I would have played Talib Kweli, Lauryn Hill's unplugged album, classic Tupac, or even some underground hip-hop like Immortal Technique. But not Alicia Keys. Definitely not!

See you soon.

[fellow-ette]

SCREAM!

2006-04-26T14:04:00.001-07:00

You better not wear hats
or do-rags or phones
you better not sell weed
within the school zone
the school superintendent is coming to town...

we're on the impact list
which is not very nice
they're going to break up our giant school*
before we blink twice
the school superintendent is coming to town...

she knows when we use the workshop model **
she knows when we're trying to fake
she knows when our rubrics and bulletin boards suck ***
so plan standards-based assessments for goodness sake!

*(into small equally ineffective institutions)
**(also known as point-of-entry)
***(i thought we were protected from this in our new contract)

(bullshit.)

(fellow-ette is feeling like she could care less...)

(she's sick of emails getting censored and everyone scurrying like rabbits due to the prospective arrival of some belligerent, incompetent beaurocrat.)

(this post makes fellow-ette such a badass, right?)

(well, i think it does.)

You who philosophize disgrace

2006-04-25T12:23:00.000-07:00

I did The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll with my sophomores today. It was a heavy intro to Dylan's voice--not exactly Usher--but they dug the lyrics' message about racial injustice. And so will you.

It's ba-aaack.

2006-04-24T18:13:00.000-07:00

Precious moment from today...

while attempting to teach my kids Wyatt's "They Flee From Me That Sometime Did Me Seek" (a very sexy poem from the 16th century) one said to me, "Miss I didn't know there were "hos" 500 years ago..."* and the general class conclusion was that the narrator was a pimp, who was "dominated" and then dumped by his new girlfriend.

Which proves to me that... THEY GOT IT.

*while comments such as these do not go on without a response in my classroom, for the sake of the blog, i leave them unadulterated.

Picture of the day...

2006-04-23T12:52:00.000-07:00

Plagiarism 101?

2006-04-23T08:30:00.000-07:00

My former stomping grounds, The Harvard Crimson, reported last night that superstar author Kaavya Viswanathan’s "How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild and Got a Life," bears a "striking similarity" to another chick-lit gem, "Sloppy Firsts" by Megan McCafferty.

The whole thing feels damn uncomfortable. It's true, as one blogger noted that Harvard is FILLED with schadenfreude (check out this story we ran back in the day) and likely to salivate with unbecoming glee even before we hear from all sides. That's why this news makes me uncomfortable of course-- it taps into my barely-supressed schadenfreude as an aspiring writer (like everyone at Harvard), and also gives rise to a huge amount of pity and bewilderment. I feel immature and naive on a daily basis, as this blog can attest to. How can someone three years my junior be expected to stare down the pressure she has, and will? But that's how it works, sadly. Pop stars younger than she are held up to the lens of the press with even more vicious regularity. Young women in particular court publicity--and succesful, pretty young women are primary targets for tear-downs. We're still not comfortable with the heights they reach.

But there's something about being a wildly successful, precociously talented anything at a young age, that seems to go hand in hand with a certain pressured recklessness... as well as an abundance of connections, and a more-than-healthy dose of good luck. It's the first of those three qualities that perhaps leads to those yet-to-be-explained "striking similarities"... or in the case of another young Harvard hotshot recently disgraced, out-and-out fabrication.

At the end of the day, this will only inch the book up the bestseller list. But the biggest question is, how is it that we live in a society that enables this sort of thing to occur over and over again? The answer, in my opinion is the inflation of the fame-money nexus. If you have it, if you want it (or if you want it for your child/protege/client), you forget the rules. From Lindsay Lohan on down, we're so obsessed with the next hot young thing, that we forget about the young part.

PS heehee

I don't miss college...

2006-04-20T21:59:00.000-07:00

But it sure has been fun to hang out, college-style. From raiding elegant student-faculty teas for the goodies, to eavesdropping on pretentious situations/conversations, to cider at the local brewery, to watching the way white girls shed their clothes the minute it climbs above 50 (a phenom I see in a new way after hearing my students describe it), this week has been incredibly relaxing. And I've reconnected with two members of my former gal posse, both who were coincidentally in town (but not in gown) this week.

However, the stiffness of the average Joe Harvard, and news about faculty reshuffling that dismays me (why do the brilliant, animated young profs always get booted in favor of their stuffy, ass-kissy counterparts) causes me to remember, with a relieved sigh, that there are some advantages to being far away from rouged, ivied brick structures--and I'm not talking about the co-eds. Maybe the brutal honesty exhibited by teenagers has just further highlighted the fakeness that reigns supreme here. Or something. Anyway, the sun set on 4.20.06 hours ago, so the time has come to put pen aside and slumber.

/fellow-ette

All the news that's fit to gossip about: Duke Scandal, Free Teacher Housing, and of course, Tomkat's baby

2006-04-19T11:52:00.000-07:00

Fellow-ette is back in Cambridge Mass, scene of her former days as a rabid intellect (or just rabid). And so, as her fellow perfects the last phrases and grafs of his Reggaeton review for the Boston Phoneix, she finds herself back to browsing Google News aimlessly, trying to draw connections between today's headlines and her job.

The first one is obvious: they're so desperate for teachers in NYC that they're offering math, sci and special ed teachers meager housing subsidies to convince them to come. What have I to say about that bold move by Bloomberg and Klein? Merely the same old thang: more money is good, anything that helps move teaching from vocation to profession is good, but what would be even better would be making the experience of teaching more professional. Small classes. Competent, caring APs and principals. Small classes. Schools that actually are communities instead of hierarchies. Small classes. Less disciplinary responsibilities and more focus on content.
Oh, and class size.

The second headline I'd like to comment on is the ever-brewin' Duke scandal, which just sounds sketchy all around to this former reporter. These lacrosse players appear to be a bunch of overprigileged, over-testosteroned, bigoted jerks, but the evidence against them is also unclear at the moment, making the entire situation upsetting--gender-wise, race-wise, age-wise and class-wise.
The saddest part to me is that yes, many young people are coarse, many young people fuck up, many young men abuse their strength, and it's never right. But most of them don't get a chance to get backed up by wealthy lawyers and defended by host of indignant sharers of the elite-sphere who see this arrest as an intrusion into the established order. Situations like this one make the racism and closed doors, which my students rant about only semi-knowingly, all too apparent. And also just brings to light the brutality of our current society and the horrible behavior of young men, whose problems (across lines of class and race) are a crisis in the making. More on that some other time.

The final headline of the day is less serious: TomKat's kitt en! Hurray for weirdness in the celebrosphere. I hope Suri hasn't been planted on the planet by the anti-scientologist aliens her rents are always talking about. Glorp. Gleep.

That's it for today.
And as a coda: decision-making is tough. Should fellow-ette blow 40 of the DOE's precious bucks on these?

Weigh in, dear reader.

Sopranos rundown

2006-04-16T21:40:00.000-07:00

I love love love Tony's newfound consciousness... even though it brings him steps closer to being whizzacked.

I hate hate hate the homophobia the show brings to light so brilliantly, which hits too close to the home of my minigangstas and their constant slurs. How hard it is to achieve tolerance when it isn't taught to us.

And how can we not hope that Vito will find peace and redemption in "Live Free or Die" NH (easy on the symbolism, Chase and co.!)? Even if it's as futile as wishing the water in a turgid white mountain waterfall will stay still for just an instant...
but oh, what an instant.

*
Today I developed a photo of three of my favorite ninth grade mini-Gs, and found myself fawning over them. The wonders distance works.

Spring comes to frigid nyc...

2006-04-16T11:29:00.000-07:00

Thank the divine spirit...

Fellow-ette could not be feeling pagan-er.
(heartcha, titian)

ALL EDUCATION VACATION SPECIAL

2006-04-13T14:16:00.000-07:00

Happy passover to those who do and don't celebrate it...

This last week at school was truly lovely, at least in terms of my students, who patiently reviewed for and then steadily (albeit rowdily) took their midterms, which in the case of my sophs were two full-length practice regents tasks. I don't know what happened to them-- why all of a sudden they buckled down and TRIED this regents sh*t, but it was beautiful. Maybe it was because they, like me, see an end. And then, when they traipsed off to their ten-day hiatus, I actually felt kinda sad. I wondered if I was coming down with something.

On Weds I went to the last of several teacher "round-tables" hosted by our fearsome principal. These came in response to a list of grievances some angry teachers have submitted. From what I've heard from all attendees, said meetings consisted of timid teachers venturing complaints and M. Principale defending herself at four times the length of said complaints. At my roundtable, complaints were even timider, and fellow-ette left feeling discouraged. She had pity in her heart for everyone in the school, from the top to the bottom, who has to take the crap handed down to them from top to bottom.

As I said to my students before collected their midterms, stuffed them with sugar and sent them out the door; "BE SAFE, BE WELL."

Ciao for now.
/"Miss"

Mo' Sopranos

2006-04-10T15:21:00.000-07:00

Greetings, Sopranos Fans:
To those of you who are arriving at AGW due to a google blogsearch for our favorite noir-mobster-generally-deep-stuff weekly tv show, all I have to say is come for the gabbagoo, stay for the wit and searing social criticism from the front lines of narrowing the achievement gap.

And as for last night's episode-- it was a nice day for a white wedding, and my heart went out to Johnny Sack. The themes of violence and retaliation and loyalty always hit me hard when I return to my gangsta's paradise after a Latte liberal weekend in upper manhattan.

For more in depth Sopranos commentary, try our compatriot shook (with comments from MV) or defamer. Or check out this silly Sops parody.

(For those coming to discuss the urgent state of urban public Ed-- what wonders are found in a week only three days long! My kids are angels, the sun shines on them all.)

Hi-larious sopranos parody....

2006-04-09T16:32:00.000-07:00

teehee.

April Showers.

2006-04-09T10:24:00.000-07:00

Bring...

Apr 10

Sunny

61°/48°

61°F

Tue
Apr 11

Mostly Sunny

66°/49°

20%

66°F

Plan a Shopping Vacation

Wed
Apr 12

Partly Cloudy

63°/54°

20%

63°F

Thu
Apr 13

Showers

64°/53°

40%

64°F

Fri
Apr 14

Partly Cloudy

63°/51°

20%

63°F

Sat
Apr 15

Scattered T-Storms

63°/50°

40%

63°F

Sun
Apr 16

Mostly Cloudy

63°/51°

10%

63°F

Mon
Apr 17

Showers

60°/52°

60%

60°F

Beat the Rainy Day Blues

Tue
Apr 18

Showers

62°/53°

60%

62°F

(courtesy of weather.com)
Lookit that forecast! A whole week of 60+ weather. Now that's what I call motivation.

*****************************************

Fellow-ette has so much to report from the nearly-week since she's been postin' to AGW. To start with, I showed my students "Slam," the risque but positive docu-drama kinda film about the power of spoken word poetry to fight violence, self-destruction, and the "prison of the mind."
It's one of those symbolism-heavy "deep" movies that teenagers love, with enough hood-talk and cursing to appeal to them. The scene that really got to my kids was in the prison courtytard when the protagonist (played by Saul Williams) is about to get jumped by some toughs, and he starts rhyming so beautifully and expressively (------ plottin shit, lovely/ but the feds is plottin me/tryin to lock up my astrology") about how violence between imprisoned blacks is worthless; playing in to the master plan, and stops them from fighting.
One of my kids actually said he was going to try that the next time he is under the threat of being jumped. Okay, so realistically, will this film deter my kids from f*cking up, fighting, landing themselves in prison? Who knows. But it touched them, as it touched me when I saw it at the tender age of fourteen -- snuck into the theater by my older "alternative" friends, and I had my mind blown in a way that still reverbrates.

**************************************************

This weekend was a lovely one for fellow-ette, excepting the absence of her fellow. On Friday she went over to the Riverdale Diner with co-teachers for brews and nachos... we talked for once about subjects deviating from school, and wasn't that delightful?
Saturday night, fellow-ette's family dined on Saag Paneer and Chicken Jalfreezi at Sapphire (YUM) and then went to the Metropolitan Opera to see Beethoven's Fidelio-- less entertaining than any opera by Fellowe-ette's faves, Puccini and Verdi, but still, going to the Met is a TRIP. Women in ballgowns, opera glasses in tow. Chandeliers hoisted to the ceiling as the lights dim... it's like a version of Edith Wharton's New York.
Thanks, dad!
After the opera, fellow-ette and her best friend from her high school days headed downtown to hear a band play--but ended up on the 2 instead of the 1, got off at fulton street to find a bathroom, ended up sneaking into a random Holiday Inn and taking the up to the stock trading floor to find a potty, and realized their friend's set was long over, so found Ryan's, a dive bar of the diviest quality, where they shot she sh*t till the wee sma's and subwayed back up, parting in front of Gray's Papaya on W. 72d.

I am feeling so thankful this morning for all these people, family and friends (many of whom were bonding up in beantown ce weekend) and reminding myself just how lucky I am, and how easy it would be to see the glass half-empty if it weren't for them. So thanks to them-- and I hope I can bring their positivity to my students as spring progresses into summer.

Cathartic moment...

2006-04-04T14:40:00.000-07:00

Today while having mini-conferences with each student, I had a particularly painful one with S, a girl whose confrontational nature and loud voice has been colliding my nerves so much recently it's been distressing. We were talking quietly and earnestly and she just started shaking and crying and saying she failed freshman year, she failed this fall, what's going to happen to her? All the bravado and anger and racism she's spat all year faded, and I remembered how young she was as I put my arm around her and reminded her that it was never too late for a second chance...

It reminds me that behind every single sneering adolescent is a teary one.

Oh and it makes all my griping and whining seem so selfish.

Two interesting links from edwize:
A reminder that the successful teacher in today's climate is Type A (read:not me)

Another reminder that the successful teacher in today's climate is a NEAT type A (not me, nope, definitely not)

MORNING FROM HELL

2006-04-04T06:31:00.000-07:00

Things that happened this morning:

*I locked myself out of my apartment and had to call and wake up my 91-year old roommate to let me in (sorry grandma!)
*I blew four bucks on a taxi uptown hoping it would help me make an earlier express train
*Said train did not appear for 20 minutes.
*Said train was further delayed in the tunnel.

*Upon arrival in school, I had the dreaded "five absences" letter in my box. My name was incorrectly spelled on it.
*Upon arrival upstairs, I spent twenty minutes perfecting the research introductions worksheet I had constructed last night.
*I then accidentally closed the document and lost it to a temporary folder.
*The printer was broken anyway and my AP was absent, rendering both my work and my stress useless. In the end I had to bum a worksheet off of frantic.
*My pass has disappeared for like, the 60billionth time (but it always turns up again, sigh.)

That's about it... is it enough?

Heh-- Read This

2006-04-03T16:39:00.000-07:00

A POST OF MANY COLORS

*An article about a different kind of white flight...

*Spring Break Counter:
...7 instructional days to go...

*Passover Counter
...7 instructional days to go... 9 actual days til we celebrate freedom and unleavened bread!

Passover for Dummies

Pink's "Stupid Girls" Hits Home...

2006-04-01T09:45:00.000-08:00

Fellow educators who are sick of watching the embedded misogyny of the average teen, regardless of demographics (although I'd venture to say it's worse in educationally-deprived areas like mine, where there's not even one or two maverick feminists in an average class), this video is a refreshing change...

My favorite part is where she contrasts the girl being the next president with the one dancing in a video next to Fifty Cent-- although her spoof of Jessica Simpson falling of the truck she's cleaning is pretty hee-larious.

Pink, like George Clooney and Kanye, is the rare celebrity who speaks up on matters bigger than his or herself. Underground rappers and songwriters are political-- and maybe that's why they stay underground.
When I think about the incredible lack of real role models my students have, I wish more celebs would get the guts to be political. They have no obligation to do so, but the world of good they can do for the average media-worshipping teen alone is amazing. My students, as I did when I was a their age, are absolutely obsessed with pop culture, without the critical distance we mediaphiles get when we get older and more cynical. Come on, people! Speak up!

Another Sunny Day

2006-03-31T14:36:00.000-08:00

Late this afternoon (after spending hours upon hours recovering from the past five weeks) my boo and I made our way out to Brooklyn, Williamsburg to be precise, where we observed that we were not dirty or shaggy enough for the hipsters, but also that the neighborhood is in no way as gentrified as everyone claims... although there were enough trendy nightspots to make a New York City Teaching Fellow ponder schooling herself in the art of Re-building Tolerance.
New York City is really amazing-- the way neighborhood intermingle and build upon each other, totally different but never isolated. That, plus the sunny weather and the far away distance of certain dingy school hallways, made Fellow-ettes mood decidedly plus calme.

On a different note entirely, this blog now allows anonymous comments. So, even if you are not a) a savvy teacher-cum-blogger or b) a savvy-student-or-student-in-spirit-cum-blogger you can now post freely and leave your love and hate whenever you damn well please. Or not. I really don't care. Whatever. Seriously. It's up to you.
Okay?
Okay.

Oh oops again.

2006-03-30T17:10:00.000-08:00

So my lesson was generously given an S after all that. I'm relieved. I'm taking tomorrow off to nurse a horribly stiff neck, a cold, and my mental health, and can't believe how guilty i feel at the prospect. My kids have been adorable this week... when I am full of love for them, my blogging becomes sparse.

I HATE THE FASCIST BOARD OF ED

2006-03-28T08:46:00.000-08:00

Quick Contacts

[Redacted]

Chat is
disabled.

Set status
here

Your network administrator has disabled chat in Gmail.

Do the Right Thing... or not.

2006-03-27T12:06:00.000-08:00

I am so tired of having to be moral all the time! Today went very well, as days go. But in trying to stop bullying (said attempt is my new whip with which to flagellate myself) I am encountering the obstinate lack of empathy of the Adolescent Male, over and over again. Oh, their moods, their nastiness. But at the end of the day, they are the ones I get along with. It's the women are so personally competitive with me...I just want to hold up a giant peace sign and sway all the time. But seriously, y'all. Today was good. My freshpeople love me. My sophomores' obnoxiousness is a natural product of their growth. etc.

This weekend was also hott. It's spring break up Nort', so I got to chill with the old gang, plus a super cool pair of middle school teachers (one, a Road Rules X-treme alum, the other, writer of the infamous "letter" and now under review for verbal insubordination, tru), Tony Soprano, and two delightful lasses, Margarita and M. Jane. That part was awesome!

12 instructional days to go til Spring Break!

Ms. Fellow-ette.

Caught in the act!

2006-03-24T06:31:00.000-08:00

Twenty minutes ago, fellow-ette and two of her fellow [ette] teachers as well as an entire class of sophomores were apprehended by our AP while watching the racial draft episode of the chapelle show, door open, students drifting in and out.

It was so worth it.

Apologeez, frantic.

Whooops, part deux (REVENGE)

2006-03-23T19:22:00.000-08:00

incidentally:

this is the notice i got about my now-infamous obs:

"This week you will be observed by the Principal, Miss [redacted] and I."

Way to go, Grammar Boy!

The recent hiring good fortune of my significant other, who has followed his dream of writing about music doggedly, has made me wonder about my own psyche. Last year at this time, I thought I was on the brink of becoming a young, left-wing journo sensation. After a fracas involving my University Prez, my writing got, like, even more exposure that AGW! gets it now (self-deprecating wink). The obstacle to fulfilling my dream was my deep-seated discomfort of the idea of 1) working without a real salary and 2) on some level, what I perceived as selfishness of pursuing that career, which was not really selfishness but 3) the fear of exposing my most treasured talent and enjoyed activity to the harsh criticism of the real world.

And so here I am, unsatisfactory and unsatisfied. The kinds of validation I used to get were fan emails from readers of the campus rag, grad students marvelling at my prose (but chastising me for those typos), and the infinite satisfaction of putting the closing phrase on a piece of my writing, a piece of me.
Now, my validation comes in the form of a student peeking his head around the door and making me guess who he is, the smiles of the students --mostly immigrants who suffer daily at my school--whom I praised tonight in front of their parents, reading my students' lovely autobiographies of characters we read (even though they were not time-managed properly) and making at least one true, genuine friend and several other warm connections. But wonderful as it all is, I remain restless. I need something more--official. If one administrator would say to me "yeah, you need a lot of work, but we're so glad to have you here and we value you" all my thoughts of quitting just might waver. But instead it's "it will get better next year" as if my being there next year is this given. I just wish I felt as needed as I know I am. But "enough, no more," as Orisno would say. The hardest part of my year is over. I don't know it, but I will it.

Peace to the homies, the lovers, the friends.

WHOOPS.

2006-03-23T15:29:00.000-08:00

Turns out I got a U because of my poor time managment. As if that's EVER going to change.

Whew # 2.

2006-03-23T11:55:00.000-08:00

halfway done. today was definitely the day from hell--less bad than marathonish. a surprise visit from my principal and AP, another visit from the literacy coach and a prospective teacher or someone i didn't know, a headache, standoffish 6th period students, and oh my god. I can barely face the thought of the night to come. But at least it's over-- my last formal observation. Unless they come again.

Now off to applebees with my fellow fellow-ettes.

Chuck D is a golden god

2006-03-21T17:59:00.000-08:00

why does no one listen to the political celebrities? I just tuned in to a song called "Bin Laden" which features the refrain:

bin laden didnt blow up the projects

it was you nigga

it was you nigga

(the you of course, being George W. Bush).

It also includes lyrics about how black and latino youth get the worst education. This of course me feel like a failure-- even though I know it's ridiculous for me to expect to make more than a miniscule dent in the system. After two days chock full of incidents including students cursing out my AP, accusing me of snitching, pulling lighters out and singeing each others braids, and whipping out cellphones out to plan fights, oh yeah and generally bullying each other so much I can't stand it, I hope my idealism/righteous indignation is not irreperably lost. I admit to having all the negative thoughts I forbade myself from entertaining at the beginning of the year.

So here's the schedule for the week:

Tomorrow: Dinner for grandma's 91st! (mazel tov grandma)
Thursday: Observation and p-t-conferences-- aka hell day.
Friday: p-t-conferences...

weekend: HALLELUJAH.

Someone please post a comment. My blog is getting looonely!

Sunday Morning

2006-03-19T07:51:00.000-08:00

As always, I wake up totally wired, the polar opposite of how I'll be come Thursday night, when I collapse in exhaustion. On my mind this morning is the pesky regents. After a disastrous regents practice sesion on Thursday in which half of my students stared at the language as though it were chinese and then quietly gave up, I was feeling so down on myself, them, the school and the system that I needed a reality check. But after a day lying in bed because of a migraine yesterday, I've put it in perspective. Seriously. I really have... whatever = )

First of all, the regents is too damn hard for at least half of my kids. They're not ready for it, and no amount of cajoling on my part is going to get them ready. So my plan has to be to find ways to target those students who are fuly capable of passing and those who are borderline, while continuing to engage the entire class on an appropriate level. Easy as pie! Not. But I need to be realistic. One idea I had was to give students a regnets task to take home every monday, make it due friday (or vice-versa) and know that the motivated students will do it on their own.
But enough thinking aloud. I'm looking forward to the week and hoping that the stretch towards spring break will slowly begin to seem less stretchy. It really is a long long long long long way to go...

Cool link:
Article about big v. small schools with interview that discusses teaching fellows, class sizes, etc.

URBAN PUBLIC SCHOOL TEACHERS GONE WILD!

2006-03-15T16:43:00.000-08:00

I went wild today in response to the idiocy of my students. One of my students, irked that I hadn't given him a pass, (and while he was pretending to throw things to piss me off I said "Hey, you dropped off the baseball team [due to failing all your classes], so you really don't need to practice, do you?") drew a devilish picture on the board and labelled it "Ms. Fellow-ette." In response, I drew a bland smiley face with a talk bubble reading "I make my teacher cry" and put his name on it, and then visibly cracked myself up... childish but satisfying. At least, my fan club in the class loved it.

Later, another student wrote an equation on the board: "Shaniqua + Britanya = a ton". I responded with "Prince's brain + a ton = a ton." The students, puzzled, looked at the equation. "Ohhh.... we get it, so you're saying..."

Anyhooch.
So maybe I'm stooping too low, but sometimes the little buggers need it!

Now, to make like Laura Bush (hisss) I'm going to make a list of recommended reading. Here are the books I've read since enrolling as an NYC TF:

"Classics"

David Copperfield by Chazz Dickens
Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert
Cousin Henry by Tony Trollope

"Adult Contemporary"

Light on Snow by Anita Shreve
White Oleander by Janet Fitch
Bel Canto by Ann Patchett
The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown
The Autobiography of My Mother by Jamaica Kincaid

"Urban Themes"

Shame of A Nation by Jonathan Kozol
A Hope in the Unseen by Ron Suskind
Down These Mean Streets by Piri Thomas

The purpose of this list is to pat myself on the back.

Trapped in the Closet

2006-03-13T19:02:00.000-08:00

Today in order to teach parody in prep for Mark Twain, I played the snl spoof of "R. Kelly's' Trapped in the Closet" for my freshpeople. Were they amused? Yes... but did they get the concept of satire/parody? Not sure. I'll have to reinforce it tomorrow...

Today was pretty good. The light staying lighter, the year winding down, the weather and the advent of Piri Thomas (Ms. Fellowette cursing in front of her students!) are all good. What's bad? The meanness they exhibit towards each other. I remember how intense my hates were in high school-- so much so that I could barely be cordial to an old classmate I ran into recently-- but it's hard, when one is in one's twenties and tryin' to be positive and sh*t about people, to be around the hormonal, psuedo-racist animosity of teenagers.

On with the slow March (get it? it's a pun) towards St. Paddy's day and the first day of spring...

I'm already eating marshmallow peeps.

It's Monday Morning

2006-03-13T05:49:00.000-08:00

...still reeling from last night's "Sopranos"...

This message is to the many of you who have gotten here with a google or msn search for "Teachers Gone Wild," "Girls Gone Wild" or the simple "Gone Wild."

You people make me sick.

I''m approaching the week with a positive attitude again, or at least trying. Piri Thomas, redeem me...

I reminisce...

2006-03-10T05:31:00.000-08:00

LAst night fellow-ette had a date with a hot Russian Blonde. It had been three years since she and I met each other while wandering the French Alps, each solo at first, brought together by fate and the mystical aura of the mountains. Over expensive beer and gourmet salads at Cafe Lalo, we recollected those adventures swimming in the Turquoise Lac D'Annecy, taking unexpected car trips with sexy Grenoblese guitar players (her) and soccer-mad Brazilians (me), hanging out with Mike the busker on the job, encountering each other in a room full of wooden skis, and Betsy, the folk-singing Vegan who never emails. Not to mention the gondola rides.

This lovely evening reminded me that not so long ago, I did some really cool sh*t. And I'd like to do stuff like that again sooner, rather than later. Meanwhile, here I am in my smelly classroom, deprived of both sleep and adrenaline. This week has been better though-- my "Zen in the midst of chaos" philosophy is working well.

Meanwhile, in my Literacy grad school class, we continue to agree that cultural empathy and understanding are positive, but too much emphasis on cultural differences is not. Heatedly. Angrily. Ventily.

That is all.

Shoutout to a certain up-and-coming music journalist who hobnobbed with the band last night. Much love!

Call Brad Pitt/Edward Norton

2006-03-08T15:38:00.000-08:00

With the advent of balmy weather, the students have let the warmth go to their heads. In the past three days, there was a massive arrest of six students from my school, multiple fights (including one in which a new student of mine was jumped with my bathroom pass in hand-- it was later returned to me, sigh). The jumpiness, jitteriness, love-bugginess, rudeness, threats, "playing the dozens" and spazzing out is reaching epic proportions. Miss Fellowette has, according to her students, "gone black" which means I've gotten meaner and tougher, but somehow it hasn't calmed things down. I sense a breaking point nearing, which means to me either a movie or an art project...

I am reading Down These Mean Streets, by Piri Thomas, hoping to do it with the chil'n next week, looking forward to the stability of a novel and the novelty of reading a "Ghetto" story that nonetheless has beautiful language, interesting themes, clear metaphors, etc.

Now, off to dinner with my delightful east side grandmother.

WERD.

2006-03-06T15:03:00.000-08:00

So Much To Say...

Let's start with a bit of humor relating to the primary, oft-digressed from, subject of this blog:

hahahah. It's like that whole is ebonics a language debate. hahaha.

Next, I am going to cop a Stephen Colbert:

ON NOTICE:

My 6th/7th period class
The Academy
My boyfriend's Greek midterm
Reese Witherspoon
Professional Development

DEAD TO ME:
The state of Iowa
Summer internships at NY newspapers
Teach for America
Ebert and Roeper
Harvard Parents
The new UFT contract w/Circular 6R

REBORN TO ME
George Clooney
My freshman class
White people rapping
More white people rapping...
And still more...

Today's PD focused on bullying. The assembled english teachers decided that:

Our students bully each other.
We bully our students.
Our students bully us.
The adminstration bullies us and each other.
Etc, etc, etc...

It was enlightening. Not.

Anyhooch... My Monday was good, comme toujours. Still trying to work out the kinks with my former stars in the 6th/7th period slot... still trying to keep myself from passing out at the end of every day... but as Dolly Parton crooned last night, "I'm just travellin, travellin, travellin, I'm just travellin through."

Whew!

2006-03-03T17:07:00.000-08:00

Today was much, much better...

A profound thought from a classmate...

2006-03-02T19:09:00.000-08:00

who pointed out that neither those educated in suburbia/prepschools NOR those in the inner city appreciate and value education...until we have seen how the other half is educated.

It's an amazing, heartbreaking truth.

On the edge...

2006-03-02T17:59:00.000-08:00

I wish I had triumphs to report, but not today. I am so exhausted that today I skipped my fecking ridiculous locker room circular 6R and sat in my room, staring at the information i had conjured up on my screen about withdrawing from NYCTF/ flunking out of grad school. It's funny that all my serious thoughts about quitting should come up now, after I've made it through 2/3 of the year, three of my four observations have been "S" and I have not called a dean into my room since the third week of school (but I should have so many times). And yet here I am, teetering on the brink. Not sure whether it's the extra hour in the afternoons, the indignity of locker room duty, the fact that several of my brightest students have become a nuisance, the return of bitter cold, or the fact that vacation reminded me what life is like when your day isn't a battle that begins at 6:30 a.m and doesn't end until you collapse in the late afternoon.

Do I sound cheerful enough? Sorry to bitch and moan... my grad school class has been surprisingly good for morale; a bunch of frustrated, angry, first-year teachers on the verge of giving up all together, cursing loudly, reveling in our bewilderment. I always leave feeling a little better.

so now that I've expostulated, here's a rundown of good/better/interesting occurrences:

*word on the street is that a huge number of veteran teachers are peacing from my HS.
*Several of my students responded excellently to today's essay prompt about Langston Hughes' poems.
*I saw Stephen Colbert last night last night. He was super hot and amazing! Thanks, pastyrussian.
*I dig the new pics on the facebook.(Who's the better linksman now, Spot-shaker?)
*My frosh are super cute. One of them , "J" as he likes to be called, reminded me of how angry I used to be with them all the time. I have to figure out what worked with them, what turned that crazy class into my mellowest, that I need to do with my sophomores, who have taken the opposite trajectory.

Looking forward to a weekend with the loved ones, fo sho.

/fellow-ette.

Jittery Jittery Me...

2006-02-28T19:19:00.000-08:00

A curious question for any unionites out in cyberspace:
1-How exactly does our new contract protect us from micromanagement of our bulletin boards/desk arrangements?

Tomorrow is my third observation. I have a solid lesson plan, etc, so there's no way I can get a U unless something goes horribly wrong, but still... it's an irritating hoop to jump through.

The plan is to read "mother to son" and then have the kids write "son to mother" as a way of exploring the literary element voice.

It's an easy, straightfoward lesson plan, whose success hinges largely on how delinquent my delinquents are.

Today was tough. I think it was my pre-obs nerves plus the comedown from yesterday's high, and also the realization of just how physically exhausting this job is. Now that I have locker room duty 9th period, I get home a full hour later than I used to. My soph blocks are now an HOUR AND FORTY MINUTES every single day. It's just such an incredible grind, and the more one longs for the weekend, the more slowly and painfully one is ground by the grind.

So hard to do this one day at a time thing.

But there's some happy news: I'm going to a taping of the Colbert report tomorrow night with my sig other and his lovely fam. So exciting!

Also, I'm all revved up for the Oscars. Go Heath and Jake!

Oh, SHYTE!!

2006-02-27T18:39:00.000-08:00

Now I'm watching the really awkward scene where Marianne and Elinor and Lucy Steele and Edward are all in the parlor together...

And I'm blogging LIVE with shook the spot.

And Lucy Steele is about to be SHOT DOWN by Fanny "I am the soul of discretion" Dashwood.

****

Tomorrow I am doing "Theme for English B" with my students. I am older, and white, and a little more free... but as one of my co-teachers (also older, white and more free) pointed out to me, at MY high school, we're all inmates.

Emma Thompson is a golden goddess

2006-02-27T17:56:00.000-08:00

Since getting home from work/errands today I've been doing little save watching Film's most sophisticated leading lady do her thang... first in the Remains of the Day, where she and Anthony Hopkins smoulder as repressed servants of a Nazi-sympathizer Lord, and then she and Kate Winslet tear it up in Sense and Sensibility, the movie I can quote more than any other (thanks to Thompson's script.) Oh, how I adore a good period drama... oh, how I would adore watching them all day.

Favorite lines from S and S?
"What care I for colds when there is such a man?" "You will care very much when your nose swells up."
"If my feelings were shallower, I could conceal them, as you do."
"Like, regard, esteem?"
"Elinor, where is your heart?"
"Willoughby! Will you not shake hands?"
And the best line ever... of course... "He did (sob!) He did!"

**********************
BUT... I digress...

Today, my first day back, was actually rather lovely, with the exception of the long long long stupid department meeting which meant that I didn't get home til six...

My kids were cute. My lesson plans solid. My sense of humor was well-rested and flexible. I had to deal with the usual... being told my blue beads made me crip, three of my frosh pretending to jump me when I did hallway duty (i used kung fu to defend myself), one of my favorites from the Jamaican connection asking me if sex with shallow penetration still meant a girl could get pregnant (OY) and three of my students quietly begining to "rank" the girls in the class. The last one was the one I really went Ape-sh*t about because I remember what it was like to be a girl in high school. But all in all, I feel I handled it well. I even had fun! And taught something. Still, time goes by so slowly, as Madonna so eloquently says.

All Good Things...

2006-02-26T15:21:00.000-08:00

I spent the week divided between three locales... the rolling farm country of the Hudson Valley and the Hills of the Berkshires being the first, the mean streets of Manhattan the second, and the glowing red brick of a certain university in New England being the third.

Conclusions to be drawn:

*Nature is a wonderful healer.
*I love the winter olympics.
*College life is incredibly way more relaxed than working life, but there's a lot of angst there too that I sometimes let fade when staring at the past through rose-colored lenses.
*I (sort of, kind of, a litle bit) missed (some of) my students.
*I'm really on the home stretch of this year. It's been nine months since I started this gig, and the hardest nine months of the first year are behind me. With only 16 weeks until the end of the term, I shouldn't be afraid to put my best foot forward.

ON A DIFFERENT NOTE COMPLETELY:

So... many of the SNL cast/writers were surrounding me on the acela express home, inclduing jorma from the bing bong brothers, andy samberg and chris parnell smokin' that Narnia chronic, bill hedder, the new girl kristen, some guy i know i recognize who vaguely reminded me of Akroyd wearing a velour jupmsuit, hat, and huge sunglasses.
Why were they on my train?
There is a castle in a square.
The Ivy-League knows how to party.

Cool things that happened while I was pretending to listen to my ipod/be indifferent:
* they asked me to move my seat so jorma could sit with his fiancee, and andy complemented my hat
*i gave them my pen to sign their tickets
*they kept talking about "Horatio [Sanz]" and "Amy [Poehler]" and how they were eating burritos and taking the 3:10 train.
*they were complaining about seth myers leaving early this morning.
*they told a legendary story about martin lawrence's opening monolgoue where he talked about vaginal hygiene.
*they discussed how sick the smoke and liquor at the party last night made them
*chris parnell contiunally came over to the table near me, stuck his butt in the air, and showed the other cast members digital videos of the night before.
*they had a "fart sound" machine that they kept hiding in each others' seats.
*they were all drinking bloody marys and vodka red bulls.
*they actually called chris parnell "parn."

the end.

For the record, I'm sorry that I was so shy when faced with celebrities. I wish I'd had Swvl, or the hustler
or the Pasty Russian Jew or Mikey G with me to encourage more banter. I'm more the eavesdropping type, let's face it.

A journalist of the soul.

En Vacances-- Breaking News: Harvard University President Resigns

2006-02-21T12:06:00.000-08:00

...Fellowette is enjoying her week off so so so so so so much... although her thighs are killing after a day of skiing which reminded her that once-a-month trips to the gym may not exactly count as regular excersise...also, her eyebrows now have a constant skeptical arch thanks to a very blonde eastern european woman in a sketchy broadway salon wielding a tub of wax. So much for random acts of self-indulgence.

NOW TO THE IMPORTANT STUFF:

I wanted to call my readers' attention to the brouhaha over at the hallowed academic ground of Harvard University (which I have been following totally objectively, not becuase I, like, went there or anything, umm, hehehe). There, dissent from a nearly-unified faculty has let to the resignation of the somewhat dictatorial president. If only we teachers who are far, far from the ivory tower (more like the guard tower) could give our collective egos a brush-up and stand up together, for change. But I guess those things only happen when educators get respect to begin with...

Here's the Wall Street Journal story:

*Summers to Quit Harvard Presidency*

By *DANIEL GOLDEN* and *ZACHARY M. SEWARD*
February 21, 2006; Page A3

Lawrence H. Summers, losing a power struggle with faculty after a
turbulent five years as president of Harvard University, is expected to
resign this week.

Two people familiar with the situation said last night that the former
U.S. Treasury secretary is expected to announce his resignation in
advance of a faculty vote a week from today on a motion of no confidence
in his leadership. It's unclear what plan Harvard may have for naming a
successor or when Mr. Summers's resignation will take effect.

Backing for Mr. Summers from Harvard's seven-member governing board,
known as the Corporation, has eroded in recent weeks in the face of
renewed criticism from many arts and sciences faculty members, the
people familiar with the matter said. Former U.S. Treasury Secretary
Robert Rubin, a Corporation member who pushed for Mr. Summers's
appointment in 2001, remains a supporter and was making calls on his
behalf to at least one key Harvard official last week, one person
familiar with the situation said. Several board members, including
former Duke University president Nannerl Keohane and Urban Institute
president Robert Reischauer, have been interviewing deans, faculty
members and alumni in recent weeks about Mr. Summers's performance.

Mr. Summers and Corporation members couldn't be reached for comment. A
Harvard spokesman declined to comment.

Mr. Summers's supporters, and even some of his detractors, say they are
worried it will be difficult for Harvard to find a strong successor now
that the faculty has demonstrated its clout. His propensity for
controversial comments on educational and national issues was regarded
by admirers as a welcome change from other college presidents who devote
themselves primarily to fund raising. His resignation could renew
concerns about whether presidents of elite universities can use their
"bully pulpit" as they once did to express opinions on vital issues
without risking their positions.

Mr. Summers's resignation would end the shortest stint of any Harvard
president since Cornelius Felton died in 1862 after two years in office.
The Corporation selected Mr. Summers, a renowned economist, as a strong
leader who would assert his authority over entrenched fiefdoms. His
achievements include establishing an institute on stem-cell research,
increasing faculty size and expanding Harvard's campus.

However, a number of his initiatives, including curriculum reform, have
bogged down. His brusque management style and sometimes outspoken views
have offended faculty members and led to turnover among deans.

Arts and sciences faculty members voted no confidence in Mr. Summers
last year after he gave a talk suggesting that innate gender differences
might account for the relative scarcity of women with high-level
academic careers in science and math. Faculty critics this year began
assailing him on matters varying from the resignation of a key dean to
the lack of any university discipline meted out to economics professor
Andrei Shleifer, a close friend of the president. Last year, Harvard and
Mr. Shleifer settled a civil suit brought by the federal government,
stemming from allegations that he had violated conflict-of-interest
rules by investing in financial markets in Russia while heading a
foreign-aid program there.

*Write to *Daniel Golden at dan.golden@wsj.com ^1

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB114049614996078827.html

Editor's Note:
This story was broken by a close friend of fellow-ette's-- not the same author of the infamous letter to the administator, but someone in the same category of badass people harnessing the mighty power of the pen to do justice. Mazel Tov.

Oy.

2006-02-17T11:56:00.000-08:00

In the last period of the last day before break, five new students walked into my classroom because their class ha dbeen broken up. My freshmen, who have been good recently, proceeded to show off to them by cursing, chasing each other, and generally being totally disruptive.

Sent Back to Class...

2006-02-16T18:51:00.000-08:00

GRADSCHOOL UPDATE:

Today in my literacy class we had a giant bitchfest about incompetent, nasty administrators, students who have learned how to con the system, ridiculously overscheduled days, and mostly our own frustration and impotence in the face of these obstacles. We all feel like we're pushing against a brick wall, with an occasional movement that spikes our hopes briefly. That group revelation, combined with the whole world of teacher blogging out there (thanks, other teacher-bloggers, for linking to me, I hope to return the favor soon!) that I'm discovering, makes me feel less alone.

One of my classmates suggested that the best solution to the corruption and decay seen by all of us in the public school system is to "blow up all the schools-- and some administrators-- and start from scratch." The entire room seemed to agree. I fantasize about hundred of little red schoolhouses, run with the spirit and care that wealthy parents would expect and ALL students deserve.

The one thing I felt that distanced me from the other teachers, besides my avowed youth, naivete and bewilderment, is that I don't think my path to making a difference will continue to cut through the classroom. I miss writing, interviewing, talking about ideas too much. My new ambition is to expose public schools the way prisons have been exposed recently (fat lot of good it's done) in some high-class new york media outlet. But who knows where I'll be and what I'll do? I just feel that the wind is blowing and I'll be bidding a restless farewell to my classroom come June. Til then? My planning starts once I'm on vacation, thanks so much.

Words, words, words.

2006-02-14T18:46:00.000-08:00

Today was Valentine's day. It was my first day back after the snow escapades, and I tried so hard to renew the positive attitude I had pre-regents week. Today we did Love-themed grammar and poetry. It was mildly successful, although the students were more interested in polling each other about who had Valentines than anything else. But what hit me as more poignant than teen loneliness/confusion was the main topic of discussion in my grad class; my kids' "home language"-- or their "primary discourse" to use education-world speak.

In other words, as I read an Edna St. Vincent Millay sonnet with all the passion I can and then ask my students to write their own sonnets in response (hoping they'll absorb some of Edna's eloquence) do I have a right to foist my preference for erudite sonnetteers onto my students, perhaps unintentionally making them feel small in their own inability to speak "standard english", whatever that is?

The die-hard liberal in me, the adolescent rebel who sympathizes too much with the 15-year olds in her keeping, wants to say no, that objectively, the home language must be valued as much as the school language, that the dominance of the school language is an arbitrary one determined by who has the money and power in society. But then I look at my students' love poems, which include such memorable lines as "love is good/it can be bad" or "i feel desire/you set my soul on fire" and am forced to relent, somewhat.

I do feel that the "home language" spoken by my students, and dictated primarily by social chatting and cliches of pop culture, HAS LIMITED them in their ability to express their feelings. And it adds to the problems they already have communicating with themselves, with others. In a sense, by our denying them a rich language, are we denying them a certain level of self-knowledge.

It is very hard, nay impossible, for me to say these things; I feel like I have no right to say that my students mediocre adolescent poetry doesn't stack up to the mediocre adolescent poetry their peers at hunter and stuyvesant are writing ("I sense a sort of jubilant obfuscation/ at this incarnation of my five-year old self" sort of stuff) which of course is equally obtuse and bland. In fact, they do stack up; they are both self-conscious cliches, both far from the truth more mature self-analysis might bring. Maybe my students' poems are more honest than the angsty stuff, but I just want them to have the TOOLS to choose. To merge their home language with Shakespeare, the way one of my English teachers who had been plucked from the streets to Princeton was so brilliantly able to do. I want them to not be limited by cliches about fire, desire, you and true. I want them to be able to look into themselves and choose from a sea of words and combinations knowingly.
*

On another note, I'd like to say best of luck to Bode Miller. The Olympics have been a most welcome distraction.
Also, I read "A Hope in the Unseen," by Ron Suskind about a kid who goes from the inner-city to the Ivy-LEague (the opposite of me, natch) and it was INCREDIBLY illuminating. I really recommend it for anyone interested in education.

Oh, the APATHY!

2006-02-13T13:15:00.001-08:00

"The cruel uneventful state of apathy releases me"

Thus saith the shins, cute indy rockers who've crossed over into the mainstream.

The apathy I'm speaking of is universal; my own, after taking another day off due to being stranded up North in the blizzard of '06, my students' apathy as reported by the teacher who took them in today, and watched as they didn't do their work, my own, and did i mention my own? What I should be doing now: lesson planning for the week. What I am doing? running out to see the snow in central park.
and so my emotional withdrawal continues, a backslide after so many highs and so much hard work, a slide that I hope will stop its backwards slide on friday, with a much needed week off.

Fellow-ette's getting reckless

2006-02-06T18:14:00.000-08:00

On Friday, day 3 of the "practice regents" we have been giving our sophomores, and coincidentally fellow-ette's birthday (now you know another piece of my identity. congratulations. go f*ck yourself). During the day, fellowette began sneezing, coughing, and feeling ill. Because of her weakness/usual incompetence, she had a very hard time keeping her students from celebrating her birthday FOR HER. She went home running about 102 degrees (see below) and swearing never to darken the door of baby Rikers (i.e her PLACE OF EMPLOYMENT) again. She kept that promise until (she assumes) tomorrow morning, when she returns to work with a normal temperature and a giant cavity where the chip on her shoulder used to be. Despite the birthday, she feels too young to be this grumpy.

Excerpts from an incisive, unpublished point-by-point letter of refutation of an informal observation report by a teacher dear to my heart.

2006-02-02T18:53:00.000-08:00

This unpublished letter was received by fellow-ette in a late night transaction. It sums up a lot of the frustration many new teachers express. Whoever this myserious Mr. X is, heredity must favor his literary genes!

"Dear Ms. XXXX [Dean at a bronx middle school],

I have received your informal observation. I want to thank you for taking the time to explain to me minute by minute, student by student, and lesson component by lesson component why my teaching on the day of February 1st was so utterly incompetent. I would like to respond to each of your criticisms (in fact, your entire letter was comprised of nothing else, since not one word of it was positive, encouraging or even neutral).

You state that there was no Aim on the board. That is correct. You walked in 30 minutes after the lesson had begun. In the interest of space (math problems, alas, require ample room on the blackboard) I had erased the aim and Do now 15 minutes into class, long after every student should have finished copying them,

...

I don’t know what you mean by “behavior intervention.” Did you want me to have one on one meetings with poorly behaved students during class. I have no doubt that had I done so, your observation would have included a statement along the lines of “ met with one student while ignoring the rest of the class.”

...
As to a system of checking the work: Perhaps you failed to notice my going around to each student and looking at their work to see if it was right and to help them if it wasn’t. Perhaps you failed to hear me directing questions to the class as a whole and eliciting reponses to assess their understanding. I’m not sure what you want from me: did you expect a quiz or a test at the end of the period to assess understanding? And given the fast approaching state test, I don’t have time for extensive assessment. I have been told to move rapidly from topic to topic, hoping that as many students “get it” as possible, and that is what I am doing. In the future, rather than talking about “behavior management intervention” and “system for checking student work” I would ask they you be more specific in describing what exactly you’re looking for.

...

You complain about Stacy leaving his seat to seek help from another student. I fail to see the problem. Collaborative work is a key component of the workshop model. Although I spent a good deal of time helping Stacy during the class, I am glad he had the wherewithal to seek help from other students when I was busy. If his tablemates couldn’t assist him, then I applaud his decision to seek assistance elsewhere.

You complain that a student could not be heard while reading the extended response. Clearly then, you recognize the auditory (not auditary, as you have been know to mistakenly claim) impediments to having a full group discussion/ share at times. I don’t see how I can be faulted for trying to discuss a problem and not being able to because my students were too noisy.

My lesson plan contained a do now, an aim, the topic to be covered in the mini lesson, class work, and homework. I admit it was not lacking in brevity, and I will attempt to make my lesson plans more voluminous in the future.

...

You claim that it was “disheartening” to be in my class. Sometimes, its disheartening for me too. I care so much about these kids, and I have so much to offer them, and sometimes the noise, lack of focus, and yes, my inability or disinclination to impose my authority over them, gets in the way of my helping them achieve what I know they’re capable of. Often, it pushes me to the brink. But I don’t want to let my kids down and I believe I am the best chance they have for a good math education so I always come back and give them my best. And then I get a letter like this. How do you think that made me feel? To be thoroughly scourged and not have one positive thing said to me? Do you think it makes me want to be a better teacher? Or do you think it has a disheartening effect on me?

...

In my own defense. I love my kids, and I believe they love me. When I’m absent, they always see me the next day and say they missed me, that class was horrible without me. When another teacher does AIS or subs for them, they always come back and say “he doesn’t teach like you Mr. XXX, he doesn’t it break it down the way you do.” I may not control them, but I respect them immensely and help them whenever I can. I encourage you to watch me walk down the hall or walk into class and assess how my students feel about me. I have been given an impossible task: to get kids with emotional and behavioral issues who are years behind in math ready for a rigorous state test in mathematics. I’m doing the best I can, but your harsh criticism serves no purpose.

As to your assistance. I believe you summed it up best when, in making plans with me to visit the new teacher you spoke of , you said “we have to go, because otherwise they’ll say I’m not helping you, and I’ll get in trouble.” This is clearly your attitude, cover your own ass, and do the bare minimum so you won’t “get in trouble”. I’m sorry, but taking me to see one literacy class and showing me typed lesson plans were inadequate forms of assistance.

I want to point out that if you put half as much energy into your job as you put into this informal observation letter, the eighth grade would not be in such awful shape and our school would not be on the verge of closing down. "

Sincerely,
Mr. X [Teacher at same Bronx middle school]

fellow-ette's note:
this letter has not actually been sent yet