Entitlement

So, I meant to write about this on Thursday, but I got bogged down with life, and well, here it is Sunday.

Anyway,  on Thursday, my students and I came back to school after a long snow-filled weekend.  Many of them came back to standardized tests that they had to retake because they had failed them in the past.  First, they know they failed these tests to begin with.  Second, there have been lists posted on the walls of the school since the beginning of December with test retaker information.  Third, there have been announcements daily regarding these tests since December.   Fourth, there was a weekly email sent out to students, parents and teachers since December.  Fifth, the night before we returned to school, there was a robocall to all students, parents and teachers.

Yet, here we are, Thursday morning — “What?!”

“I didn’t know I had to take a test.”

“When did they tell us this?”

“This isn’t fair!  I didn’t know.”

“What test?”

You get the idea.  I can almost forgive them for having snow brain–almost.  But what bothered me most was at least three students, although one was far more vocal than the others saying (and I’m paraphrasing):

“How do they expect me to take this test?  I didn’t get no remediation.  They can’t make me take a test without remediation.  This school sucks.  I’m just going to click and fail anyway.  What’s the point?  I’ll fail every time I take it because I don’t care.  My dad won’t care either.”

The student then proceeded to demand-and note I say demand–that they be allowed to go see the principal to tell  how they feel about this whole situation.  Because it is easier to let them go than listen, I allowed the student to leave.  When they returned, their tirade continued:

“I hate that . . .  so stupid.  Tell me I have to take my test and I shoulda gone to tutoring.  When was there tutoring?  No one told me.  I got better things to do than this.  I got work and I’ll make more money than . . .  I’m gonna call my dad and get . . . fired.  . . . so stupid. ”

There are a number of things that bother me about this.  First, that anyone would fail these tests to begin with.  My states’ tests are a minimum standard.   So, my state basically says it’s okay to know only the minimum.  I don’t want a doctor that knows only the minimum of what he should.

Second, that it is somehow the school’s fault that they are not prepared.  We have tutoring available after school pretty much everyday, and if they don’t like us, our local university offers free tutoring, career counseling, college application help, internship help, etc.  The representatives for the university are in our building, and they come to the classrooms on a regular basis.

Third, that they feel entitled to confront an adult about something and then call them stupid and threaten to have them fired.  And along with that, that a parent will support their child on that.

Now, most of my students are not like this.  Which is why this student stands out.  However, what I do see more and more of, except in the very brightest students, is a pure apathy regarding anything that does not directly relate to them.  If it’s not entertaining or interesting, they want to have nothing to do with it.  And many of them tell me that “When they get to college” it will be different.

I have taught at the local community college.  This is what I observed.  Students over the age of 30, regardless of how long they had been out of school, no matter how weak a student they had been in the past, were able to stay on task, get their work completed on time, and were able to pass with a B or better.  Students between 25 and 30 struggled more with time management and in actual work created–their work quality was much poorer than their older classmates, but they usually showed improvement, and all passed the class.  The worst students were those under 25, and specifically, one’s who had graduated in the last few years.  Coming to class unprepared, staying on their cellphones, not completing assignments, arriving late or not showing up at all.  They were all intelligent, what little work I could get from them was always of good quality.  In the three years I taught at community college, 90% of the students out of high school in the last five years either failed or received D’s in the course.  And it didn’t matter if they came from the worst or the best schools in our area–they were all the same.  I stay in touch with many of my former students, and the majority of those who started at community college, either because they were trying to save money or their grades weren’t up to snuff are still there, or quit, even five to eight years after graduation.

So, do I fear for our future?  Yes I do.

Fat Ghost

So, since we have almost a foot of snow on the ground here, and I’m home from work until Wednesday, I have not felt guilty at all about watching a lot of tv.  Today, I watched Bright Lights, which is an HBO documentary about Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds.  In all, it was not all that enlightening, nor was it a fantastic piece of filmmaking-if anything, it made me realize how really screwed up Carrie Fisher was.  But, Carrie Fisher had a great question.  “If you die fat, do you come back as a fat ghost.”

I thought this was funny.  I pictured a bunch of really fat ghosts who can’t quite fit through walls and when they go through narrow doorways, parts of their ephemeral bodies go through the walls as well.  Or, seeing a ghost sit on a chair and have parts of them hang off the sides.

But, then I thought a little more seriously.  What if those of us who are heavy in life are punished for our gluttony by remaining so in the afterlife?  Maybe that is God’s justice–we mistreated our temple, so now we must haunt in our brokedown palace.  There are many ideas of heaven, and one that I see quite often is of everyone returning to a better time in their lives–missing limbs are replaced, beauty is restored, and souls live in perpetual youth and beauty.  Perhaps that is what is meant by heaven?  But what of those who were disfigured from birth?  Do they remain so, and thus remain ugly?  Or does ugliness not exist in heaven, because it is a perfect place?  Or, do we go as we died–old, fat, crippled.  Well, frankly, if that is the afterlife, I don’t want to live the way I live now–I want what I can’t do now.  So, I would prefer the thin and beautiful.

However, I also like the idea of a fat ghost.  Perhaps, they would be more friendly than a normal ghost, perhaps equated with Santa Claus.  Fat and jolly.  Plus, as a fat ghost, you could be a warning for those you haunt–appetite control from the other side.  I see new ads for Nutri-System.  “Lose it now, or live your afterlife like this” with a picture of a morbidly obese ghost.  New products marketed as “the death diet” making sure you look good in your shroud and chains.

But how do you measure BMI on something noncorporeal?

 

 

Shall we Shuffle off this mortal coil?

So, I didn’t write on Thursday.  There’s two reasons for that.  First, I really just didn’t feel like it–I’d had a busy week and I was cleaning and I really didn’t feel like thinking.  Two, I really couldn’t think of a topic. So, I didn’t.

Now, I wanted to write last night, but I went to be early, and frankly, I can’t write when my DH is around–he gets all squiggly.   So, I’ll do last night’s post now, and do tonight’s tonight.

Anyway, I think for the first time in a long time I really accepted the fact that I am fat, unhealthy, and heading for an early grave.  I went to the doctor for a follow-up for an earlier illness, and they weighed me and took my vitals.  She also showed me my trends for blood pressure over the past two years.  I realized that I have been fooling myself as to how big I am, and how healthy I am.  Now, nothing she said was too alarming, nothing is too far gone that I’m headed for the coroner’s slab tomorrow, but I realized that what I have at 42 I shouldn’t have.

Since my new year’s resolution was to work on myself, as I said, one of those things that I want to work on is my health.  And since the New Year started, I have been doing some things right.  I have cut out non-diet soda, I haven’t eaten fast food (except once, but we have to celebrate small victories), I haven’t eaten chocolate, and I’ve been controlling my portion size.  I haven’t exercised, but I have had a terrible cough and stuffy head, so I don’t think getting on a treadmill and then hacking up half a lung is a good idea.  And of course, this weekend, we’re snowed in, practically, here, so I’m not going anywhere.

But, what’s more important than above is that I don’t feel like I’m depriving myself, which I usually do when I do these types of things.  Maybe my brain has finally turned that corner–this is not something I want to do, it’s something I need to do.  I’ve realized that I want to be half of myself by this time next year.  I’d love it to be by my birthday, but that’s in only six months, and that’s not practical.

Maybe being healthier wil make a lot of other things better.  Who knows?  Maybe it will change my overall outlook, or the outlook of those around me, and everything will get better.  Or is that too much to hope for?

Is it worth it?

So, I just finished a game for my students for vocabulary practice.  As I finished, I thought, as I often do – is it worth it?

I consider myself a good teacher.  I spend many hours preparing good lessons, creating games, grading papers, and overall, trying to make my classroom a good place to be.  I want my students to learn, and even if they don’t appreciate everything I teach, I want them to at least feel the need to be there.

My “is it worth it” question comes from observing two things today, and usually everyday.  Quite often, I watch my classroom of students make no effort to do anything I ask unless there is some immediate reward for them–candy, points, etc.  Would they put in the same amount of effort if I gave them a worksheet, printed from the internet, as long as I gave them a candy bar when they were finished.  Would they learn the same thing?   I spend two hours creating a review game, and while I know they’ll have fun when they play tomorrow, are they really getting anything out of it?

I ask “is it worth it” when a student comes to me in class and asks how he can fix his English grade so he doesn’t have to go to summer school and then watch him leave the list of makeup work on the desk when the bell rings.

I ask “is it worth it” when I repeatedly have to ask students to put away the phone or the Chromebook because they are not listening, writing, learning.

I ask “is it worth it” when I see students sleeping in my class who are sleeping not because they’re bored, but because they work to support their family–and for them, understanding Shakespeare is not going to make a difference.

I ask “is it worth it” when I look at my students and realize that preparing them for college is not the right path for them and that what they’re doing in my class is essentially a waste of their time.

I ask “is it worth it” when I give them an opportunity to share what they know in a way that works for them, they simply turn away and do nothing.

I could go on and on.

But, then, I realize that sometimes, it is worth it.  Today, a former student of mine came to my class to teach my current students how to do a presentation.  I gave him a day’s notice, and he did it, for no other reason than because I obviously meant something to him.  He got nothing from me except a “Thank you” and a smile.

I hope he felt it was “worth it”.

The Transparent Eyeball

I’m a teacher.  I teach English.  Today, I revisited transcendentalism for the umpteenth time.  American Lit is not my favorite part of literature, and I’ve never really been a fan of Emerson and Thoreau.  My first introduction to Thoreau was back in AP English when one of my summer reading assignments was Walden.  Not sure if you are familiar with Thoreau and his time on Walden pond, but here is the short summary:

Goes to pond.  Lives in shed.  Grows food. Eats food.  Wanders the woods.  Goes back to society.

It was one of the most painful reading experiences I’ve ever had, and I vowed that if I ever became a teacher, I would never make my students read Walden.

Well, I don’t.  I do, however, read Emerson with my students.  I find Emerson much more palatable and because it is in much more manageable slices, my students can, too.  He also doesn’t ramble as much as Thoreau, in my opinion.  As much as his thoughts are very drawn out and detailed, he always seems to have a point, while Thoreau seems to say the same thing fifteen different ways and never really makes a point.  Any Thoreau lovers out there, I apologize for my criticism.

Anyway, today we were reading an excerpt from “Nature”, in which Emerson speaks of the “transparent eyeball”  In “Nature”, Emerson says, “I become a transparent eyeball.  I know nothing.  I see all.”  Although I have read this many times, today, for some reason, it really hit home.

In essence, Emerson’s is talking about the fact that as humans, we need to truly be a part of and observe the natural world around us if we are to truly achieve spiritual transcendence–that is transcendence from the mundane of human existence.  The transparent eyeball is the eye that absorbs everything it sees and makes it part of itself–seeing everything while at the same time not really know anything, always being in a constant state of wonder.

As my last class left today, I found myself thinking that I no longer have a transparent eyeball, as we all do when we are young.  I have allowed myself to think that I know everything about a lot of things, and I have often stopped looking at anything other than what I already see.

I look at my family, but do I really see everything about them?  I look at my students everyday, but do I really see them–or are they simply bodies occupying space?  I look at myself in the mirror each morning, but am I seeing what is there, or what my mind thinks is there?  If I really thought about it, could I tell you with perfect certainty what building is on the left side of the street at the turn that I make when I go to work, or more importantly, can I tell you what it actually looks like?

In our lives, we look, but we don’t always see.  As I think about this in myself, I start to think that perhaps this is one of the many reasons for this blog, and for my resolution to fix things in my life.  Maybe this is the reason for my long-running mid-life crisis.  I have begun to see, and don’t like what I see, so I want to change it.

For homework, I asked my students to observe something in nature.  Anything.  A tree, the grass, the rain, their pet.  And not just look at it, but observe it.  Determine what emotions that things creates in them, how that thing affects them.  They requested I do the same.  As I sat in my front window looking out at my willow tree, I chuckled to myself thinking of my students sitting in their homes, starting at their pets, or staring at a menacing squirrel–their parents shaking their heads and wondering “What are they learning at that school?”  As I did my homework, I realized how little attention I have paid to that willow tree over the years.  When I stare at, I realized that it makes me happy and sad at the same time.  Happy, because it is my favorite tree, and my DH planted it for me at this house not long after we moved in.  Sad, because it reminds me of happier times gone by.   Happy, because it is tall and strong, and it reminds me of the kind old lady who lived across the street who was so happy to see a willow back at our house (apparently, one had been destroyed in a hurricane years before).  Sad, because it is winter, and it looks so barren and forlorn with no leaves, its skeletal branches bare to the wind.  It makes me feel cold.  I cannot imagine my home without it, but I realize that I barely acknowledge its existence.

As I finished my homework, I realized how true Emerson’s words are.  By truly observing the natural world that is around, I was affected–emotionally and spiritually.  I looked at my life in a different way.  I thought about things differently.  I realized how amazing that tree is and how much it is a part of my life and my families’ life.  While I am far from a transparent eyeball, I can see his point, about obtaining transcendence and peace by simply existing and allowing the world to exist for you, fully and completely.

I am excited to see what my students come up with.

 

 

Day 1

So . . .  my New Year’s Resolution was to write everyday.  And, I’ve already broken it.  But, that’s okay.  Success is made of small failures.  So, today, I’ll write twice.  So, technically, even though it’s Day 2, we’ll pretend it’s Day 1.

So . . . why am I doing this?  I’m 42, and when I was 38, I started my mid-life crisis. There’s a lot of reasons for that crisis, but the problem is, I’m still going through it.  I have my good days and my bad days, and in the last few days of 2016, I got really sick, and I spent a lot of time thinking, and I realized that even though I have people to talk to, I don’t talk about what’s really eating at my brain.  I need a place to vent, a place without judgment, without censors, without solutions.  A place where I can say what I think or feel without any commentary coming my way.  So, this is what I’m doing.

Is this for the public?  Not really sure about that.  I am not using my real name, and I will change the names of people I talk about, just in case.  The internet is such a two-edged sword–it is anonymous, but at the same time, it’s not.  With enough investigating, your anonymous thoughts can suddenly be a can of worms that explodes in your face.  And despite some of the things I think I will say, I have no intention of hurting anyone.  So, for now, even though I am publishing this out there in the great vaccuum of the internet, I will keep things relatively indistinguishable–random and nonspecific, but still understandable and relatable.

This blog is not for anyone except me, but hey, if someone wants to read my ramblings, then so be it.  Enjoy!