I love Joanna Newsom. I want to take her home in my pocket. I want to marry her. I want to listen to her sing and talk and sing some more forever. I never thought I would feel this way about a woman, but, I guess there's a first time for everything. I love Joanna Newsom.
Last night she played at the Walt Disney Concert Hall (holy shit!) with the LA Philharmonic (oh fuck!). It was incredible. Joanna and her little band played Ys with the full philharmonic - it was like hearing the album live but better. The arrangements were crisper and fuller, her voice was like honeyed water, and her hands, rustling among the harp's strings were so beautiful and majestic.
After intermission, Joanna changed her clothes from an elegant, symphony-type black dress into a really scanty, super short, low cut, pink velvet dress and black platforms. She walked out on stage and the audience cheered doubly. It was great. She played a bunch of Milk-Eyed Mender songs (Bridges & Balloons, Peach Plum Pear, Right-On, etc) with the Band, in these fantastic, layered multiple instrument arrangements. It was really different than the album and when I saw her last year (she played all the MEM songs just her and the harp).
She played one new song, just her and the harp, that felt like an interesting mix between MEM songs and Ys songs. And the Disney Hall is such a fantastic venue. It's a really neat space, and even though we were sitting behind the stage (in the cheap seats) we had a great view of her hands. I have the music stuck in my head, running loops over and over, and it's great.
Coming Soon... When I taught a full day!
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
"my child is sooooo perfect" Not!
Today was my second (and final) day of my first round of parent-teacher conferences. Whew.
Yesterday was the “official” conference day. However, because the 5th/6th grade team teaches a total of 39 kids, there was no way we, as a team, could do 39 conferences in one day. So our Head of School ordered some subs for today, and we spent the day talking about the kids with their parents.
Now, this whole situation was complicated by the fact that the lead 5th teacher (and 6th grade math/science teacher) had a baby last week (rather, his wife had a baby). So he’s been out since Thursday, and was absent for the conferences too. We missed a big component there.
It was a long two days. It felt a little bit like speed dating on crack: every twenty minutes a new parent (parents) would be sitting in front of us, ready to “sell us” on their child. Over and over again. For two days.
Seeing and meeting the parents really answered a lot of questions about the kids too. I loved the moments when I saw a parent look at me a certain way, or do a specific hand motion, or use a certain phrase – which were things their kids does as well. It gave a good backing for where the child is coming from, what their make-up is, the sort of attitudes and views they really get from their parents. One could write a whole ethnography on seeing teaching that way.
But the one really interesting result is now I really see the kids differently. I know all these things about the children: how one loves to play the drums, or how another rides ponies, or how another is usually stubborn the first few months of school and then really opens up to the teachers. Their parents were so insightful and had such detailed things to say about the kids’ personalities and idiosyncrasies, things I never would have picked up on. Now, I want to get to know each and every one of them better, as unique individuals. Today, as I walked in and out of the classroom, when the kids were in class or at lunch (we had lunch inside today, due to the poor air quality caused by the fires), I kept seeing new things about them, observing them do things in a way I hadn’t noticed before. Familiar, but fresh and beguiling. It was like meeting them for the first time, or more like seeing an old friend after many years.
Yesterday was the “official” conference day. However, because the 5th/6th grade team teaches a total of 39 kids, there was no way we, as a team, could do 39 conferences in one day. So our Head of School ordered some subs for today, and we spent the day talking about the kids with their parents.
Now, this whole situation was complicated by the fact that the lead 5th teacher (and 6th grade math/science teacher) had a baby last week (rather, his wife had a baby). So he’s been out since Thursday, and was absent for the conferences too. We missed a big component there.
It was a long two days. It felt a little bit like speed dating on crack: every twenty minutes a new parent (parents) would be sitting in front of us, ready to “sell us” on their child. Over and over again. For two days.
Seeing and meeting the parents really answered a lot of questions about the kids too. I loved the moments when I saw a parent look at me a certain way, or do a specific hand motion, or use a certain phrase – which were things their kids does as well. It gave a good backing for where the child is coming from, what their make-up is, the sort of attitudes and views they really get from their parents. One could write a whole ethnography on seeing teaching that way.
But the one really interesting result is now I really see the kids differently. I know all these things about the children: how one loves to play the drums, or how another rides ponies, or how another is usually stubborn the first few months of school and then really opens up to the teachers. Their parents were so insightful and had such detailed things to say about the kids’ personalities and idiosyncrasies, things I never would have picked up on. Now, I want to get to know each and every one of them better, as unique individuals. Today, as I walked in and out of the classroom, when the kids were in class or at lunch (we had lunch inside today, due to the poor air quality caused by the fires), I kept seeing new things about them, observing them do things in a way I hadn’t noticed before. Familiar, but fresh and beguiling. It was like meeting them for the first time, or more like seeing an old friend after many years.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
back-to-school night
isn’t all that it's cracked up to be. Not so bad. It wasn’t so scary. I bit my lips, dug my claws in, and came out the other side, growling, covered in some amniotic goo, and ready to fight.
Because the 5th and 6th grade teaching teams consist of the same people, we devised a very clever rotating system which, through a complex mathematical equation, arranged the allotted time into time slots specifically proportioned to the amount of time we have each week with the kids. Don’t you love 6th grade math? Unfortunately, the 45-minute all school presentation turned into an 80-minute all school presentation, and so our time with the parents – the most important part of the evening – was drastically cut short. So, that meant that my 3-4 minute shpiel became a 30-40 second shpiel.
“Hi, I’m Joel Abramovitz. I love this school. Your kids are amazing. They rock my world. Ok bye!”
So it goes.
But the parents, bless their hearts, seemed totally disinterested in me and anything I had to say. All they wanted was the goods on the curriculum, how many times they’d be asked to drive/bake things this year, and what trouble their kids had caused so far. Nobody wanted to hear from the new guy. And that was fine by me.
One back-to-school night down! So many more to go...
Because the 5th and 6th grade teaching teams consist of the same people, we devised a very clever rotating system which, through a complex mathematical equation, arranged the allotted time into time slots specifically proportioned to the amount of time we have each week with the kids. Don’t you love 6th grade math? Unfortunately, the 45-minute all school presentation turned into an 80-minute all school presentation, and so our time with the parents – the most important part of the evening – was drastically cut short. So, that meant that my 3-4 minute shpiel became a 30-40 second shpiel.
“Hi, I’m Joel Abramovitz. I love this school. Your kids are amazing. They rock my world. Ok bye!”
So it goes.
But the parents, bless their hearts, seemed totally disinterested in me and anything I had to say. All they wanted was the goods on the curriculum, how many times they’d be asked to drive/bake things this year, and what trouble their kids had caused so far. Nobody wanted to hear from the new guy. And that was fine by me.
One back-to-school night down! So many more to go...
Monday, October 8, 2007
Columbus day
sucks.
For one thing, we don't even get it off. Not that I'd want it off, because with the past month's days off I've hardly worked at all. Do I have a job? I forgot. But still. If it's a national holiday, which I guess it is, then schools should be off.
And the post office is closed. And the libraries are closed. And that just makes me so angry, I could eat a ham!
But what really gets my goat about Columbus day is it's a holiday named after Christopher, and there's absolutely no observance of it. Things are closed, sure, but who the hell talks about Christopher Columbus on Columbus Day? There's no discussion - commercialized or otherwise - about his legacy. Jerks.
I feel like I'm being a bit bitchy. I just got home from an awkward 5th/6th grade team meeting about social issues going on in the class, which morphed into a referendum on how the administration feels about the way the 5th/6th grade team is doing our job. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Schools are way too political for me. I thought teachers DIDN'T have to deal with workplace politics. Just student driven politics. Grr.
For one thing, we don't even get it off. Not that I'd want it off, because with the past month's days off I've hardly worked at all. Do I have a job? I forgot. But still. If it's a national holiday, which I guess it is, then schools should be off.
And the post office is closed. And the libraries are closed. And that just makes me so angry, I could eat a ham!
But what really gets my goat about Columbus day is it's a holiday named after Christopher, and there's absolutely no observance of it. Things are closed, sure, but who the hell talks about Christopher Columbus on Columbus Day? There's no discussion - commercialized or otherwise - about his legacy. Jerks.
I feel like I'm being a bit bitchy. I just got home from an awkward 5th/6th grade team meeting about social issues going on in the class, which morphed into a referendum on how the administration feels about the way the 5th/6th grade team is doing our job. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Schools are way too political for me. I thought teachers DIDN'T have to deal with workplace politics. Just student driven politics. Grr.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
fits and starts
is my new favorite phrase. I've been using it to describe how starting the school year has been going. "Oh, you know. It's really hard to figure out how it's going; with all the Jewish holidays it's been a thing of fits and starts." I always manage to quote Stanley Kunitz's The Dragonfly - coincidentally my favorite poem. We're in our 5th week of classes (oh my god) and it feels like we haven't really started. Like it's all been a prologue until now. And this week, too, we have Thursday off, and then go back on Friday. It's frustrating, especially because I really need to find a groove, to get a firm handle on things, start figure out what I'm doing, and how to do it. We're out of the honeymoon period with the kids, and yet we have no momentum. There's no traction, just friction.
Today, especially, felt symptonic of the stop-and-start nature of the last few weeks. I made a girl cry today. A 6th grader. One of mine. It's a long story, and involves anagrams of my name (Jell-o, if you add an extra "L"), a boy putting chips in another girl's hair, asserting yourself when someone butts their nose into your business, and the way this girl I made cry - let's call her Carly - has been viewing and talking to me the last week and a half. I thought Carly and I were having a really good, open, productive discussion about communication and how to apologize, and I was really proud of myself because I got to put some of the techniques and phrasings that I've been reading about into practice. As we shook hands after our conversation (no hugging!) I felt like this was a breakthrough for me and my comfortability in dealing with crises.
And then another 6th grader runs over and tells me Carly is crying. Because of me.
The other teacher on the yard said I did exactly what I was supposed to do, and that every kid takes things differently. And some kids use crying as a manipulative tool. And some kids are just criers. They cry. But still, it's a shitty feeling right now. I didn't fuck up, but I didn't do as well as I could have. And there was no way to know that in the moment. But now, I can reflect on my actions, and see that she probably felt singled out and alone.
I don't know. I think if we had more continuous time with the kids, less starting, more moving and going and momentum building, my ability to gauge their feelings, internally and externally might be sharper. Slightly. But enough so I don't make anyone cry again.
Today, especially, felt symptonic of the stop-and-start nature of the last few weeks. I made a girl cry today. A 6th grader. One of mine. It's a long story, and involves anagrams of my name (Jell-o, if you add an extra "L"), a boy putting chips in another girl's hair, asserting yourself when someone butts their nose into your business, and the way this girl I made cry - let's call her Carly - has been viewing and talking to me the last week and a half. I thought Carly and I were having a really good, open, productive discussion about communication and how to apologize, and I was really proud of myself because I got to put some of the techniques and phrasings that I've been reading about into practice. As we shook hands after our conversation (no hugging!) I felt like this was a breakthrough for me and my comfortability in dealing with crises.
And then another 6th grader runs over and tells me Carly is crying. Because of me.
The other teacher on the yard said I did exactly what I was supposed to do, and that every kid takes things differently. And some kids use crying as a manipulative tool. And some kids are just criers. They cry. But still, it's a shitty feeling right now. I didn't fuck up, but I didn't do as well as I could have. And there was no way to know that in the moment. But now, I can reflect on my actions, and see that she probably felt singled out and alone.
I don't know. I think if we had more continuous time with the kids, less starting, more moving and going and momentum building, my ability to gauge their feelings, internally and externally might be sharper. Slightly. But enough so I don't make anyone cry again.
Friday, September 28, 2007
lies (for a sixth grader)
Today I stopped my first “almost fight” between two boys in my class. A bunch of 6th graders were playing Butts Up during lunch (like a combination of handball, dodgeball, and H-O-R-S-E) and I was reffing 4-square (I’ve become quite the 4-square expert. I could ref the world series, if they had a World Series of 4-Square.). A girl in my class came running up to me, saying that Sam (pseudonym, duh!) had fallen. I ran over and saw him holding his knees, which looked like stew was pusing out of his legs, gasping for breath, crying, and saying Mitchell had tripped him. Mitchell and some other boys were standing there, gawking, and I made sure Sam felt ok, and them made him (he didn’t want to go, wanted to appear tough and strong, but I thinm the crying really made that pretty hard, yeah?) up to the office, to get cleaned up.
I took Mitchell aside, and asked him, “Did you trip Sam?” And Mitchell looked me in the eyes, with his adorable sweet baby-face, and lied, “No.” and then he waited. It took me less than a second to realize that he lied to me, that his first concern was not getting in trouble, and as soon as he realize that he would tell me the truth.
I really like this kid; actually both of them. But Mitchell especially. I think he’s extraordinarily smart, and a little but cruel as well. He’s duplicitous and deceitful, maybe even manipulative. He has little patience for people who can’t keep up with him. He’s a good friend. He’s a short boy. He’s a good student, sometimes too good. In short, I see a lot of me in him.
So I said, “I’m not mad, I just need to know what happened. Did Sam trip?” Mitchell nodded. “On you?” He nodded again. “So, you tripped him then?” Sam said, “Yes.” And then I said, “Was it an accident?” and he said yes. It was hard to tell truth from fiction; or how he viewed the truth. I told him to sit on the side for a moment.
I had no clue what to do, what to say, etc. Part of the problem is I don’t know what I’m supposed to do at TIOH when the kids don’t listen or are clearly out of bounds. I don't know school policy, or how my mentor teacher would have preferred it handled (she was out because it was the second day of Sukkot). The 5th grade co-teacher, who is becoming a really good source of support and advice for me, said that these two mboys have a history, and she believes it possible that Mitchell could have tripped Sam, and that Sam could have thought Mitchell tripped him on purpose, even if he didn't. She then said she usually has the offending kid take care of the hurt kid’s first aid (get him an ice pack, a band-aid, etc) to help repair the damage, and make sure he's okay (brilliant!).
Since Sam was already getting sewed up, I couldn't do that immediately. I took Mitchell aside and said, “You’re not getting in trouble, because I’m sure it was an accident, but I still want to make sure there isn’t any upset between you and Sam. We want to keep the peace in the class (almost “shalom keetah”). Please go up to the office, see how he’s doing and how you can help him feel better; maybe get him an ice pack. If you want to apologize, that’s up to you. I trust you to do the right thing.” (Ok, it wasn’t as eloquent as that. But it was the same idea).
I went up to the office a few minutes later, and the two boys were chatting and smiling and laughing as the school receptionist/miracle worker bandaged Sam up. Ah 11-year olds. They can be really harsh one moment, and then forget it the next. It was a good success!
Someday, this will come naturally for me. Many, many, many years from now.
(for the third time in as many weeks): Chag Sameach!
I took Mitchell aside, and asked him, “Did you trip Sam?” And Mitchell looked me in the eyes, with his adorable sweet baby-face, and lied, “No.” and then he waited. It took me less than a second to realize that he lied to me, that his first concern was not getting in trouble, and as soon as he realize that he would tell me the truth.
I really like this kid; actually both of them. But Mitchell especially. I think he’s extraordinarily smart, and a little but cruel as well. He’s duplicitous and deceitful, maybe even manipulative. He has little patience for people who can’t keep up with him. He’s a good friend. He’s a short boy. He’s a good student, sometimes too good. In short, I see a lot of me in him.
So I said, “I’m not mad, I just need to know what happened. Did Sam trip?” Mitchell nodded. “On you?” He nodded again. “So, you tripped him then?” Sam said, “Yes.” And then I said, “Was it an accident?” and he said yes. It was hard to tell truth from fiction; or how he viewed the truth. I told him to sit on the side for a moment.
I had no clue what to do, what to say, etc. Part of the problem is I don’t know what I’m supposed to do at TIOH when the kids don’t listen or are clearly out of bounds. I don't know school policy, or how my mentor teacher would have preferred it handled (she was out because it was the second day of Sukkot). The 5th grade co-teacher, who is becoming a really good source of support and advice for me, said that these two mboys have a history, and she believes it possible that Mitchell could have tripped Sam, and that Sam could have thought Mitchell tripped him on purpose, even if he didn't. She then said she usually has the offending kid take care of the hurt kid’s first aid (get him an ice pack, a band-aid, etc) to help repair the damage, and make sure he's okay (brilliant!).
Since Sam was already getting sewed up, I couldn't do that immediately. I took Mitchell aside and said, “You’re not getting in trouble, because I’m sure it was an accident, but I still want to make sure there isn’t any upset between you and Sam. We want to keep the peace in the class (almost “shalom keetah”). Please go up to the office, see how he’s doing and how you can help him feel better; maybe get him an ice pack. If you want to apologize, that’s up to you. I trust you to do the right thing.” (Ok, it wasn’t as eloquent as that. But it was the same idea).
I went up to the office a few minutes later, and the two boys were chatting and smiling and laughing as the school receptionist/miracle worker bandaged Sam up. Ah 11-year olds. They can be really harsh one moment, and then forget it the next. It was a good success!
Someday, this will come naturally for me. Many, many, many years from now.
(for the third time in as many weeks): Chag Sameach!
Monday, September 24, 2007
"We're not in Kansas anymore. We're in Oz!"
Last night, I had what I'm pretty sure will be the gayest night of my life. Rufus Wainwright, probably the gayest man alive, recreated Judy Garland’s (most significant gay icon ever) 1961 Hollywood Bowl concert, at the Bowl. It was extraordinary good fun, although probably would have been better if I knew more of the songs.
Rufus did not recreate her banter, but he told stories at the same moments in the concert that she told stories (his own stories, and my favorite was about how when he was 4 he was saved from drowning at the pool at Hotel Marmont by Betty Buckley). He also didn’t recreate her wardrobe - although he did sing his first encore song in stilettos, tights, and a Liza Minelliesque dress/jacket, and top hat. It was almost sexy.
Best highlight of the night:
Jake Gyllenhaal sighting. I saw him at Royce Hall when the Rock Bottom Remainders played there during Book Festival ’06 as an 826La fundraiser, and that was truly heartstopping, but this was quite exhilarating. He walked from the West Gate past the program booth (where we were standing) and into the lower boxes. I have to fan my face just thinking about it.
My two (three) highlights of the concert:
1) Throughout the second half and encore, he was joined at times by his mother, Kate McGarrigle (she played solo piano when he sang, sitting cross-legged on the stage, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”); Judy’s other daughter, Lorna Luft (who sounds exactly like Judy and did a duet with Rufus), and Rufus’ sister, Martha Wainwright. Martha came out and sang “Stormy Weather,” in the middle of the second half, and it took my breath away. If the concert had ended there, it would have been fine with me. I’d never heard Martha Wainwright before, and where Rufus is grating and he slurs his words, she’s emotional and crisp. Her performance was vulnerable and soft, poignant and honest. I’m still in a bit of shock over it. I think it might have been the best single song performance I’ve ever seen.
1a) Martha, during the encore, did an incredible version of “Someone to Watch Over Me,” while her mother played piano. It was amazing, but didn’t quite top “Stormy Weather.”
2) At some point in the original Garland concert, Judy strutted down the catwalk part of the stage, walked into the audience, and planted a kiss on an audience member – who happened to be Rock Hudson (planned, I’m sure). So, he recreated that act: Rufus sauntered down the catwalk, walked into the audience, and planted a big kiss on Debbie Reynolds. Debbie Reynolds! It was adorable. She kissed him back a few times (in a very grandmotherly style) and then they waved.
Rufus did not recreate her banter, but he told stories at the same moments in the concert that she told stories (his own stories, and my favorite was about how when he was 4 he was saved from drowning at the pool at Hotel Marmont by Betty Buckley). He also didn’t recreate her wardrobe - although he did sing his first encore song in stilettos, tights, and a Liza Minelliesque dress/jacket, and top hat. It was almost sexy.
Best highlight of the night:
Jake Gyllenhaal sighting. I saw him at Royce Hall when the Rock Bottom Remainders played there during Book Festival ’06 as an 826La fundraiser, and that was truly heartstopping, but this was quite exhilarating. He walked from the West Gate past the program booth (where we were standing) and into the lower boxes. I have to fan my face just thinking about it.
My two (three) highlights of the concert:
1) Throughout the second half and encore, he was joined at times by his mother, Kate McGarrigle (she played solo piano when he sang, sitting cross-legged on the stage, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”); Judy’s other daughter, Lorna Luft (who sounds exactly like Judy and did a duet with Rufus), and Rufus’ sister, Martha Wainwright. Martha came out and sang “Stormy Weather,” in the middle of the second half, and it took my breath away. If the concert had ended there, it would have been fine with me. I’d never heard Martha Wainwright before, and where Rufus is grating and he slurs his words, she’s emotional and crisp. Her performance was vulnerable and soft, poignant and honest. I’m still in a bit of shock over it. I think it might have been the best single song performance I’ve ever seen.
1a) Martha, during the encore, did an incredible version of “Someone to Watch Over Me,” while her mother played piano. It was amazing, but didn’t quite top “Stormy Weather.”
2) At some point in the original Garland concert, Judy strutted down the catwalk part of the stage, walked into the audience, and planted a kiss on an audience member – who happened to be Rock Hudson (planned, I’m sure). So, he recreated that act: Rufus sauntered down the catwalk, walked into the audience, and planted a big kiss on Debbie Reynolds. Debbie Reynolds! It was adorable. She kissed him back a few times (in a very grandmotherly style) and then they waved.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
where have all sensations gone?
I just got back from seeing The New Pornographers at the Fonda in H-wood, and while it's way past my bedtime, I'm totally wired. I could write about my day today, or the mock trial we're doing tomorrow (who's responsible for the death of the owlet in the African folktale "Why Mosquitos Buzz in People's Ears" - it's acually been a great literature lesson for the 6th graders) but instead I'll give a brief rundown of the Porno's show tonight.
The Pornos were, of course, Amazing, with a capital "A." They had great banter. The crown was really into them. The drummer, Kurt Dahle, was something else. The songs are fantastic, and even the new ones, which I was previously more or less lukewarm, were great. They had a huge lightbulb signboard, in early 80's porn style, saying their name, on the top of the backdrop. And, I've said it before and I'll say it again, Neko Case has an incredible set of pipes. They played a great setlist, which is always icing on the cake.
The opener, Lavendar Diamond, was not good. I saw them about a year ago when they opened for the Decemberists, and then they were dreadful. Tonight, just weird. The singer kept stopping and saying, "Let's give it up for ________________!" You can fill in the blank with any number of innane, flooziful nouns/phrases: "not sending kids to Juvenille hall" "world peace" "liberation" "singing" "los angeles" "children" "mothers" "you" "the new pornographers" "sexy clothes" "no lies" "tribes" etc etc. You get the picture. And then she would do these weird dances. I didn't quite get it.
But, a great Porno show.
Tomorrow, Arcade Fire!
The Pornos were, of course, Amazing, with a capital "A." They had great banter. The crown was really into them. The drummer, Kurt Dahle, was something else. The songs are fantastic, and even the new ones, which I was previously more or less lukewarm, were great. They had a huge lightbulb signboard, in early 80's porn style, saying their name, on the top of the backdrop. And, I've said it before and I'll say it again, Neko Case has an incredible set of pipes. They played a great setlist, which is always icing on the cake.
The opener, Lavendar Diamond, was not good. I saw them about a year ago when they opened for the Decemberists, and then they were dreadful. Tonight, just weird. The singer kept stopping and saying, "Let's give it up for ________________!" You can fill in the blank with any number of innane, flooziful nouns/phrases: "not sending kids to Juvenille hall" "world peace" "liberation" "singing" "los angeles" "children" "mothers" "you" "the new pornographers" "sexy clothes" "no lies" "tribes" etc etc. You get the picture. And then she would do these weird dances. I didn't quite get it.
But, a great Porno show.
Tomorrow, Arcade Fire!
Monday, September 17, 2007
the gates of heaven are closing... soon! so buy now!
Dear loyal "Part-Time Punk" Readers:
Due to some personal/professional concern over the ethics of discussing proprietary information on the web (i.e. scribing daily anecdotes, especially those, however benign, that involve the actions and words of my students), I've decided to "restrict" access to the blog. I really hate to do this, because blogspot really doesn't make this easy. I still haven't figured out exactly what to do, but basically, I send you an e-mail and you hit okay. If you're a gmail/blogspot member, then you're permanently "okayed;" if not, I think it has to be renewed periodically. Eeep.
So, If you want to keep on reading... let me know! Or I'll just awkwardly add you to my reading list whether you like it or not. I'll be providng tantalizing posts this week to reel you in, and keep you in, right before the doors of heaven close. On the eve of Yom Kippur, "Part-Time Punk," like the Book of Life, will be closed. Forever. And ever. And ever.
Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming. Tra la la la la.
Due to some personal/professional concern over the ethics of discussing proprietary information on the web (i.e. scribing daily anecdotes, especially those, however benign, that involve the actions and words of my students), I've decided to "restrict" access to the blog. I really hate to do this, because blogspot really doesn't make this easy. I still haven't figured out exactly what to do, but basically, I send you an e-mail and you hit okay. If you're a gmail/blogspot member, then you're permanently "okayed;" if not, I think it has to be renewed periodically. Eeep.
So, If you want to keep on reading... let me know! Or I'll just awkwardly add you to my reading list whether you like it or not. I'll be providng tantalizing posts this week to reel you in, and keep you in, right before the doors of heaven close. On the eve of Yom Kippur, "Part-Time Punk," like the Book of Life, will be closed. Forever. And ever. And ever.
Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming. Tra la la la la.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Shana Tova!
I'm off work (and at home) for the next three days to bring in the new year, proper style, yo.
Happy 5768!
Happy 5768!
Monday, September 10, 2007
best sixth graders ever
I'm in love.
With my sixth graders.
Oh, not that way. Get your mind out of the gutter.
They're a great, great group of kids. There's 17 of them, and about 90% have been at TIOH since "Mommy and Me." The least amount of time any of them has been in the TIOH community is since 3rd grade. They're adorable, and sweet, and energetic (that's a bit of an understatement; on Mondays they have a prep course for the ISEE, a standardized test they have to take to get into independent middle/high schools next year, and we give them pizza between when school ends at 3 and when they start they're prep course at 3:30. Jo and I waited with them, and after they ate their two slices of pizza and three cups of Sprite, they were getting r-o-w-d-y.) and really friendly. To me. Since it's such a close-knit group, it's a bit of a challenge to come in and try to be their teacher. I have no repartee, no history with any of them, and yet, they're taking me in. It's fantastic. I'm walking a fine line between teacher and "friend." I know my place, but since I'm so young (although, they are less than half my age) and close to them generationally (we talked shop about movies we like - a lot of them have seen "Little Miss Sunshine" and "Blades of Glory" which are definitely NOT 11 year old appropriate) it's easy to forget that I'm a teacher. I have to develop a close relationship with them, but maintain the boundaries. It's tougher than I thought. I want to like them and I want them to like me.
One of my students had her birthday over the weekend, and she brought cupcakes in for the class today, and she brought one for me and one for Jo. I was touched. So I ate mine when the kids ate theirs, during recess, and then at the end of the day, Jo handed me hers and said, "Do you want this?" Now, this was a delicious, chocolate on chocolate cupcake, and I really enjoyed mine. But one was enough for a few days. So, I said, "Sure," and gobbled it down right then and there. How can I say no to chocolate?
With my sixth graders.
Oh, not that way. Get your mind out of the gutter.
They're a great, great group of kids. There's 17 of them, and about 90% have been at TIOH since "Mommy and Me." The least amount of time any of them has been in the TIOH community is since 3rd grade. They're adorable, and sweet, and energetic (that's a bit of an understatement; on Mondays they have a prep course for the ISEE, a standardized test they have to take to get into independent middle/high schools next year, and we give them pizza between when school ends at 3 and when they start they're prep course at 3:30. Jo and I waited with them, and after they ate their two slices of pizza and three cups of Sprite, they were getting r-o-w-d-y.) and really friendly. To me. Since it's such a close-knit group, it's a bit of a challenge to come in and try to be their teacher. I have no repartee, no history with any of them, and yet, they're taking me in. It's fantastic. I'm walking a fine line between teacher and "friend." I know my place, but since I'm so young (although, they are less than half my age) and close to them generationally (we talked shop about movies we like - a lot of them have seen "Little Miss Sunshine" and "Blades of Glory" which are definitely NOT 11 year old appropriate) it's easy to forget that I'm a teacher. I have to develop a close relationship with them, but maintain the boundaries. It's tougher than I thought. I want to like them and I want them to like me.
One of my students had her birthday over the weekend, and she brought cupcakes in for the class today, and she brought one for me and one for Jo. I was touched. So I ate mine when the kids ate theirs, during recess, and then at the end of the day, Jo handed me hers and said, "Do you want this?" Now, this was a delicious, chocolate on chocolate cupcake, and I really enjoyed mine. But one was enough for a few days. So, I said, "Sure," and gobbled it down right then and there. How can I say no to chocolate?
Thursday, September 6, 2007
welcome to technology!
Today was the first day of DeLeT class since the summer session ended, and while the whole video conferencing thing was bizarre and will take some getting used to, it was a really enjoyable day. It was also exhausting, but I’m hesitant to keep typing that word, because I feel it’ll lose all effectiveness. Maybe it’ll be my word of the week. Just for this week.
Class at TIOH (the second day of real class) was fun today; I was just there for the morning. 5th grade Language Arts was fine; we had a mock spelling test. A preview, if you will. In my 6th grade time, when we had the 6th graders talk about books they read over the summer. Before that, we had reassigned them seats. Yesterday, the first day, we let them pick seats – where ever they wanted. All of the girls sat at one table, and all of the boys at another. There are 8 girls and 9 boys, so of course, the girls sat at the table with 10 seats, and the boys sat at the table with 8 seats, leaving one boy to sit with his not-yet-testosterone-secreting-self amongst eight 11-year-old girls. It was funny. So today, we let them rechoose seats, asking that it be boy-girl-boy-girl, and they choose to sit near the front if they have vision problems. And then we moved a few of them around. But it was a funny, funny moment, when Jo said, “we want you to sit next to someone of the opposite sex,” and a muffled, titillating laughter rippled through the class, especially the girls. I almost rolled my eyes.
Delet class, then, was refreshingly adult and almost erudite, in comparison. Getting oriented to the video conferencing – how the Fellows in the Bay Area learn from the sessions – was strange. It will take some time. There were five of us, five fellows: 3 in LA and 2 in the Bay, but when we started, there was only one on the video screen. And then they explained that he had dropped out – after a week of teaching, he felt that it was not for him. We all had mixed emotions about it: sad we didn’t get to know him better, glad he was honest and open, a desire to wish him luck on his next endeavors etc. But I’m not sure any of us felt surprised. That was the weird part. It somehow… made sense.
Anyway, after that slightly awkward moment of not knowing what to say to the Delet director, we commenced with Parashat HaShavuah (Torah Portion of the Week) – except we’re a few weeks ahead, so we can teach the portion, if need be, when the correct week arrives. And then our second class was called “Meeting the Needs of All Learners,” and that was really interesting. It’s on teaching and relating to “exceptional” students (autism, ADHD, Learning disabilities, gifted kids, etc), focusing mainly on the kids we’ll find in Jewish Day School settings. And then we had two hours of Delet class, talking about our last few weeks. It was great, being able to talk to the other fellows, know that we’re going through the same thing, in different ways, and get advice from each other. They know what it’s like for me.
All through the afternoon, I wanted to turn to the TV screens. It's amazing technology. I love it! There are two set up; one showing us the room in SF, and the other showing us how we appear on the screen. But there were five of us in LA, and one in SF, so we looked really small compared to Brian in SF. He looked normal, and (I thought) we looked digitalized and pasty. I did wear a solid green shirt, but I realized I have weird posture when I sit, and the chairs in the video room are really big, comfy, executive chairs, so it’s easy to sink in and lose myself. I have to remember to drink coffee before we start class.
Class at TIOH (the second day of real class) was fun today; I was just there for the morning. 5th grade Language Arts was fine; we had a mock spelling test. A preview, if you will. In my 6th grade time, when we had the 6th graders talk about books they read over the summer. Before that, we had reassigned them seats. Yesterday, the first day, we let them pick seats – where ever they wanted. All of the girls sat at one table, and all of the boys at another. There are 8 girls and 9 boys, so of course, the girls sat at the table with 10 seats, and the boys sat at the table with 8 seats, leaving one boy to sit with his not-yet-testosterone-secreting-self amongst eight 11-year-old girls. It was funny. So today, we let them rechoose seats, asking that it be boy-girl-boy-girl, and they choose to sit near the front if they have vision problems. And then we moved a few of them around. But it was a funny, funny moment, when Jo said, “we want you to sit next to someone of the opposite sex,” and a muffled, titillating laughter rippled through the class, especially the girls. I almost rolled my eyes.
Delet class, then, was refreshingly adult and almost erudite, in comparison. Getting oriented to the video conferencing – how the Fellows in the Bay Area learn from the sessions – was strange. It will take some time. There were five of us, five fellows: 3 in LA and 2 in the Bay, but when we started, there was only one on the video screen. And then they explained that he had dropped out – after a week of teaching, he felt that it was not for him. We all had mixed emotions about it: sad we didn’t get to know him better, glad he was honest and open, a desire to wish him luck on his next endeavors etc. But I’m not sure any of us felt surprised. That was the weird part. It somehow… made sense.
Anyway, after that slightly awkward moment of not knowing what to say to the Delet director, we commenced with Parashat HaShavuah (Torah Portion of the Week) – except we’re a few weeks ahead, so we can teach the portion, if need be, when the correct week arrives. And then our second class was called “Meeting the Needs of All Learners,” and that was really interesting. It’s on teaching and relating to “exceptional” students (autism, ADHD, Learning disabilities, gifted kids, etc), focusing mainly on the kids we’ll find in Jewish Day School settings. And then we had two hours of Delet class, talking about our last few weeks. It was great, being able to talk to the other fellows, know that we’re going through the same thing, in different ways, and get advice from each other. They know what it’s like for me.
All through the afternoon, I wanted to turn to the TV screens. It's amazing technology. I love it! There are two set up; one showing us the room in SF, and the other showing us how we appear on the screen. But there were five of us in LA, and one in SF, so we looked really small compared to Brian in SF. He looked normal, and (I thought) we looked digitalized and pasty. I did wear a solid green shirt, but I realized I have weird posture when I sit, and the chairs in the video room are really big, comfy, executive chairs, so it’s easy to sink in and lose myself. I have to remember to drink coffee before we start class.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
The Big Day, Part II
The first day. The real first day. Whew. It was great. I mean, exhausting and long and a little bit nerve-racking, but all and all great. Due to the heat, I had a hard time sleeping last night so I took a MotrinPM. Worked like a dream. I got up at 745, showered, dressed, and headed to school.
The day itself was short; it was an open house style, only from 10-12. We had two activities planned for the kids: they make a name tag with their English and Hebrew names, and then decorate, draw, write, and collage on the name tag to show things that represent themselves (we’ll then laminate the name tags and make them permanent). We also asked them to write a poem about themselves (which we’ll read tomorrow). Parents were also welcome to hang out with the kids, schmooze with Jo, Jeff (the Jewish studies teacher) and myself, catch up with each other, have fun with their kids. It also takes away a lot of the anxiety of “The First Day of School” because it’s a short day, kids can stay as long as they and their parents want, and it’s just a fun day. They don’t have to worry about performing or seeing each other after a long summer. And plus, Jo made apple chips which were delish!
My first impressions of the kids are that they’re a great group. They all seemed really sweet and with it and happy to see Jo – and she seemed really happy to see them – and to meet me and to see each other. They were all really cute too. They’re all around 11, and have that pre-pubescent, cusp of adulthood glow to them. They’re still innocent and kind and eager to learn.
One mother was talking to me, a little bit about her child, but she also said, “This is a really good class. And I’m not just saying that because my son is in this class. My older son graduated from here, and his class was not so good, if you know what I mean. This class is really sweet.”
The parents seemed pretty parental. I think that’s the best descriptive word. They were all very friendly, some a little more than others, and most were interested in me being a Delet fellow. What exactly that meant. Here’s a sample conversation:
Parent: Joel, how long have you been here?
Joel: This is my first year.
Parent: Where did you work before? (Thinking: this kid looks barely older than my 6th grader…)
Joel: No, this is my first year teaching.
Parent: Oh great… (turning slightly pale). So, Joel, what is your role here? The teaching assistant? The aide?
Joel: No, I’m a Delet fellow.
[Parent has blank look on face.]
Joel: I’m basically the co-teacher for the 6th grade.
Parent: Oh, wonderful! (Thinking: I’m putting my kid in another school… pronto!)
But all and all, they were very nice. I just haven’t gotten the names down yet.
After the last kid left, Jo and I cleaned up, and then the Parents Association provided lunch for all the Day and Nursery school teachers. It was a decent lunch; friend chicken, corn on the cob, coleslaw. But really good brownies. Then, the best part of the day: CPR training! I’ve never had CPR or First Aid training, so this whole 30 compression-rescue breath-look for a pulse-etc techniques really got me 1) freaked out that I would ever be a victim 2) even more freaked out that I would have to perform this on someone. I mean, in an emergency, you gotta do what you gotta do. Of course. But a three hour session with rubber dummies doesn’t even come close making me a passably credible life-saver. And knowing me, I think I would just jump around, my arms flailing, going, “Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!” and then volunteer to run away and call 911.
So, after sitting through three hours of grip, grin, and blow, I was wiped. WIPED. And then I came home and to fine my (pirated) internet dead. ARGH. So I wrote, but I couldn’t post until right now! Alas!
The day itself was short; it was an open house style, only from 10-12. We had two activities planned for the kids: they make a name tag with their English and Hebrew names, and then decorate, draw, write, and collage on the name tag to show things that represent themselves (we’ll then laminate the name tags and make them permanent). We also asked them to write a poem about themselves (which we’ll read tomorrow). Parents were also welcome to hang out with the kids, schmooze with Jo, Jeff (the Jewish studies teacher) and myself, catch up with each other, have fun with their kids. It also takes away a lot of the anxiety of “The First Day of School” because it’s a short day, kids can stay as long as they and their parents want, and it’s just a fun day. They don’t have to worry about performing or seeing each other after a long summer. And plus, Jo made apple chips which were delish!
My first impressions of the kids are that they’re a great group. They all seemed really sweet and with it and happy to see Jo – and she seemed really happy to see them – and to meet me and to see each other. They were all really cute too. They’re all around 11, and have that pre-pubescent, cusp of adulthood glow to them. They’re still innocent and kind and eager to learn.
One mother was talking to me, a little bit about her child, but she also said, “This is a really good class. And I’m not just saying that because my son is in this class. My older son graduated from here, and his class was not so good, if you know what I mean. This class is really sweet.”
The parents seemed pretty parental. I think that’s the best descriptive word. They were all very friendly, some a little more than others, and most were interested in me being a Delet fellow. What exactly that meant. Here’s a sample conversation:
Parent: Joel, how long have you been here?
Joel: This is my first year.
Parent: Where did you work before? (Thinking: this kid looks barely older than my 6th grader…)
Joel: No, this is my first year teaching.
Parent: Oh great… (turning slightly pale). So, Joel, what is your role here? The teaching assistant? The aide?
Joel: No, I’m a Delet fellow.
[Parent has blank look on face.]
Joel: I’m basically the co-teacher for the 6th grade.
Parent: Oh, wonderful! (Thinking: I’m putting my kid in another school… pronto!)
But all and all, they were very nice. I just haven’t gotten the names down yet.
After the last kid left, Jo and I cleaned up, and then the Parents Association provided lunch for all the Day and Nursery school teachers. It was a decent lunch; friend chicken, corn on the cob, coleslaw. But really good brownies. Then, the best part of the day: CPR training! I’ve never had CPR or First Aid training, so this whole 30 compression-rescue breath-look for a pulse-etc techniques really got me 1) freaked out that I would ever be a victim 2) even more freaked out that I would have to perform this on someone. I mean, in an emergency, you gotta do what you gotta do. Of course. But a three hour session with rubber dummies doesn’t even come close making me a passably credible life-saver. And knowing me, I think I would just jump around, my arms flailing, going, “Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!” and then volunteer to run away and call 911.
So, after sitting through three hours of grip, grin, and blow, I was wiped. WIPED. And then I came home and to fine my (pirated) internet dead. ARGH. So I wrote, but I couldn’t post until right now! Alas!
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
my big bang theory
I had the most surreal evening I’ve had in a long, long time. And I think that’s saying a lot. I’m really tired and, like the real person that I am, have to get up to go to work tomorrow, so I will try and make sure this isn’t a surreal experience for you too.
My friend Nick works at Warner Brothers (no, he cannot get you a meeting or a screen test) and got tickets to the taping of the second episode ever (the first being the pilot) of a new sitcom called “The Big Bang Theory” from the same creators of “Two and a Half Men.” Here is the premise: Leonard (Johnny Galecki of “Rosanne” fame) and Sheldon are two brilliant, but very nerdy and socially awkward, physics PhDs at CalTech. Then a gorgeous, ditzy girl moves in next door and teaches the two guys lots of lessons about life and love. Hilarity ensues.
This should be enough build up to either make you gag or laugh, and gag was my initial impulse, but I’ve never been to a sitcom taping (unless you count watching the entire series of “The Comeback” – a must Netflix if you haven’t seen it!) and thought, hey, sounds like a fun time. So Nick and I camped out (sort of literally) for almost two hours before they let us into the studio, and then waited another hour. It was a lot of waiting, and about 100 degrees outside and 50 degrees inside (Nick made me take a sweatshirt, and while it looked utterly ridiculous while we were waiting, it was a mechiah inside). And very LA.
They played the pilot for us while we were waiting, and while it wasn’t amazing television, it was actually pretty clever. The actor who played Sheldon was the actor who played Tim in “Garden State” (the knight who was dating Peter Saarsgaard’s mom), and he was fantastic. Johnny Galecki was good, appropriately nerdy. The other two guy friends were very good (one sleezy-stereotype and the other Indian-sterotype), and the girl, Penny, was pretty good. The science jokes were funny (I’m a bit of a nerd myself) and well timed.
But the act of watching a sitcom being filmed was so weird. The episodes, sans commercials, run about 22 minutes, and it was the longest 22 minutes of my life. About 3+ hours long. They film it chronologically, in order, “like a play” they said. Except a play doesn’t stop and start as they move scenes around the set, and reshoot, and wait for actors to flub their lines. I could sort of see the live action, but sometimes the screen felt too boring. There was a lot of waiting and repetition. It was often frustrating. And really hard to force myself to laugh the third time when the joke wasn’t funny the first time. It was like being in the television show. I was creating the laughter. I was the laughter. Ha ha.
Then there’s a host who’s supposed to keep the audience entertained and happy (except the seats were horribly uncomfortable and I was sitting next to this HUGE man who oscillated between pushing me into Nick and my chair), but that’s a big joke (no pun intended). His name was Mark, and he was like William Holden on crack. He wasn’t very funny, and when he was funny, he got his laughs by poking fun of the people in the audience. It was kind of game showesuqe; he tried to give away $20 (seriously; it’s not a lot of money but people did some crazy shit) with dancing contests, laughing contests, farm animal noise making contests, a blind-dating game, a singing contest, really stupid people participating in stupider magic tricks. And then he made fun of a lot of old people. It was somewhat pathetic, slightly funny, but mainly just weird.
Today at TIOH we had a disaster and emergency preparedness lecture (it was on PowerPoint and boring and I took a brief nap in the middle), and one of the things he focused on was earthquake preparedness, because that’s the most likely disaster to strike our school. All through the taping I looked up at the ceiling, and the vast web of cables and monitors and booms and beams, and then realized there was no good place to duck and cover (the chairs were about 10 inches by 10 inches), and then kept thinking that this would be the worst possible place to be in an earthquake. If it happened, we would all be dead. Or seriously maimed.
While we were walking out of the lot, we walked past the soundstage of “New Adventures of Old Christine” and saw Julia Louis-Dreyfuss herself load up her lime green New Bug and then drive off the lot. Julia Louis-Dreyfuss! Celeb sightings at 10PM on the WB lot are always good, bizarre way to end an evening.
And now, I've seen a sitcom being filmed. I am done with LA. Goodbye, nurse!
My friend Nick works at Warner Brothers (no, he cannot get you a meeting or a screen test) and got tickets to the taping of the second episode ever (the first being the pilot) of a new sitcom called “The Big Bang Theory” from the same creators of “Two and a Half Men.” Here is the premise: Leonard (Johnny Galecki of “Rosanne” fame) and Sheldon are two brilliant, but very nerdy and socially awkward, physics PhDs at CalTech. Then a gorgeous, ditzy girl moves in next door and teaches the two guys lots of lessons about life and love. Hilarity ensues.
This should be enough build up to either make you gag or laugh, and gag was my initial impulse, but I’ve never been to a sitcom taping (unless you count watching the entire series of “The Comeback” – a must Netflix if you haven’t seen it!) and thought, hey, sounds like a fun time. So Nick and I camped out (sort of literally) for almost two hours before they let us into the studio, and then waited another hour. It was a lot of waiting, and about 100 degrees outside and 50 degrees inside (Nick made me take a sweatshirt, and while it looked utterly ridiculous while we were waiting, it was a mechiah inside). And very LA.
They played the pilot for us while we were waiting, and while it wasn’t amazing television, it was actually pretty clever. The actor who played Sheldon was the actor who played Tim in “Garden State” (the knight who was dating Peter Saarsgaard’s mom), and he was fantastic. Johnny Galecki was good, appropriately nerdy. The other two guy friends were very good (one sleezy-stereotype and the other Indian-sterotype), and the girl, Penny, was pretty good. The science jokes were funny (I’m a bit of a nerd myself) and well timed.
But the act of watching a sitcom being filmed was so weird. The episodes, sans commercials, run about 22 minutes, and it was the longest 22 minutes of my life. About 3+ hours long. They film it chronologically, in order, “like a play” they said. Except a play doesn’t stop and start as they move scenes around the set, and reshoot, and wait for actors to flub their lines. I could sort of see the live action, but sometimes the screen felt too boring. There was a lot of waiting and repetition. It was often frustrating. And really hard to force myself to laugh the third time when the joke wasn’t funny the first time. It was like being in the television show. I was creating the laughter. I was the laughter. Ha ha.
Then there’s a host who’s supposed to keep the audience entertained and happy (except the seats were horribly uncomfortable and I was sitting next to this HUGE man who oscillated between pushing me into Nick and my chair), but that’s a big joke (no pun intended). His name was Mark, and he was like William Holden on crack. He wasn’t very funny, and when he was funny, he got his laughs by poking fun of the people in the audience. It was kind of game showesuqe; he tried to give away $20 (seriously; it’s not a lot of money but people did some crazy shit) with dancing contests, laughing contests, farm animal noise making contests, a blind-dating game, a singing contest, really stupid people participating in stupider magic tricks. And then he made fun of a lot of old people. It was somewhat pathetic, slightly funny, but mainly just weird.
Today at TIOH we had a disaster and emergency preparedness lecture (it was on PowerPoint and boring and I took a brief nap in the middle), and one of the things he focused on was earthquake preparedness, because that’s the most likely disaster to strike our school. All through the taping I looked up at the ceiling, and the vast web of cables and monitors and booms and beams, and then realized there was no good place to duck and cover (the chairs were about 10 inches by 10 inches), and then kept thinking that this would be the worst possible place to be in an earthquake. If it happened, we would all be dead. Or seriously maimed.
While we were walking out of the lot, we walked past the soundstage of “New Adventures of Old Christine” and saw Julia Louis-Dreyfuss herself load up her lime green New Bug and then drive off the lot. Julia Louis-Dreyfuss! Celeb sightings at 10PM on the WB lot are always good, bizarre way to end an evening.
And now, I've seen a sitcom being filmed. I am done with LA. Goodbye, nurse!
Monday, August 27, 2007
The Big Day, Part I
Today was the big day. Well, not really. Today was the first big day. The REAL big day comes next Tuesday, along with 17 adorable and scampy 6th graders (and, I learnt today, 22 adorable and scampy 5th graders). But today was pretty big in and of itself. It was a day of meetings, and some workshops, and more meetings and meetings. And a meeting or two. Somewhat exhausting (it didn’t help that last night I was too hyped up to fall asleep at a reasonable hour).
I arrived a little early for the 8:30 breakfast, and ran into Jo, my primary (general studies) mentor in the parking lot. She’s fantastic. We’ve started to have a running joke about our names – she’s Jo and I’m Joel – and that the kids will just have to say “Jo–” and someone will respond; it’ll be a bit hilarious for the kids, and confusing for us. Ha ha? Anyway, We had breakfast, which included meeting forty or so extremely friendly garrulous women (including myself, I can count the male faculty members on one hand). It was pretty overwhelming; I felt like a deer right before the car hits. I don’t do very well in large groups of new people, and so I grabbed a chocolate muffin (they were from Costco!) and sat with the other new staff members, and we chatted about not knowing anyone. Then began the day.
The entire staff had a small group discussion of Understood Betsy, the staff summer reading book, and then our groups created skits, drawings, poems, or songs – it was exactly like camp – about the content of our discussions. Then we did a workshop on the school’s mission statement; the school is undergoing their 6-year independent school reaccredidation and so reevaluating their mission. It was surprisingly interesting, and while I didn’t know that a lot about the character school and couldn’t contribute much (I did make one zingy comment, much to the welcome surprise of the Head of School), but it allowed me to get a better sense of how the faculty thinks about the school.
Then we lunch. Catered. Yum. And then the onslaught of meetings. Fifth/sixth grade meeting to work out scheduling. New staff meeting with the head of school. Fifth grade staff and school administration meeting with a set of parents about their student. Then fifth grade staff meeting about the kids for the year. It was a lot of meetings. Coming out of my ears. There’s been a lot of scheduling issues with my schedule: Delet has certain requirements, the school has certain needs, and the 5th and 6th grades have the most screwy schedule I can imagine, and I have certain vision of what I see my blossoming teacher role to be. Tomorrow, we haggle! We fuddle! We reconcile! Hours and hours of fun!
All and all, it was a really good first day. I feel like a real person now. I have burgeoning social responsibilities. I have a paycheck. I have somewhere to be from 8-5. And I'm tired and cranky in the evening.
I arrived a little early for the 8:30 breakfast, and ran into Jo, my primary (general studies) mentor in the parking lot. She’s fantastic. We’ve started to have a running joke about our names – she’s Jo and I’m Joel – and that the kids will just have to say “Jo–” and someone will respond; it’ll be a bit hilarious for the kids, and confusing for us. Ha ha? Anyway, We had breakfast, which included meeting forty or so extremely friendly garrulous women (including myself, I can count the male faculty members on one hand). It was pretty overwhelming; I felt like a deer right before the car hits. I don’t do very well in large groups of new people, and so I grabbed a chocolate muffin (they were from Costco!) and sat with the other new staff members, and we chatted about not knowing anyone. Then began the day.
The entire staff had a small group discussion of Understood Betsy, the staff summer reading book, and then our groups created skits, drawings, poems, or songs – it was exactly like camp – about the content of our discussions. Then we did a workshop on the school’s mission statement; the school is undergoing their 6-year independent school reaccredidation and so reevaluating their mission. It was surprisingly interesting, and while I didn’t know that a lot about the character school and couldn’t contribute much (I did make one zingy comment, much to the welcome surprise of the Head of School), but it allowed me to get a better sense of how the faculty thinks about the school.
Then we lunch. Catered. Yum. And then the onslaught of meetings. Fifth/sixth grade meeting to work out scheduling. New staff meeting with the head of school. Fifth grade staff and school administration meeting with a set of parents about their student. Then fifth grade staff meeting about the kids for the year. It was a lot of meetings. Coming out of my ears. There’s been a lot of scheduling issues with my schedule: Delet has certain requirements, the school has certain needs, and the 5th and 6th grades have the most screwy schedule I can imagine, and I have certain vision of what I see my blossoming teacher role to be. Tomorrow, we haggle! We fuddle! We reconcile! Hours and hours of fun!
All and all, it was a really good first day. I feel like a real person now. I have burgeoning social responsibilities. I have a paycheck. I have somewhere to be from 8-5. And I'm tired and cranky in the evening.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Ready to rock
So, I’m starting work tomorrow. Finally. It’s been almost five months to the day since finishing UCLA class, and even with the month long Delet seminar, my disemployment filled quasi-pseudo-early-semi-retirement phase got old long time ago. I’m ready. I’m readier than ready. I’m pumped. To an extreme. I want to do something significant, on any scale, instead of just driving my self to do things for me. I’ve read A LOT in the past five months, watched a lot of movies, taken a lot of naps and walks, traveled, spent a month in teaching seminar, spent time with friends, spent time with family, etc etc. But all of that, I hope, is a prelude to what amounts to my first post-B.A. full time job. I’m ready.
But I’m not nervous. Well, maybe a little bit. Tomorrow starts “staff week” – the kids don’t come until after Labor day – so I’m really not expected to perform, at all, tomorrow, except to be present and alert and involved and engaged. Piece of cake. There’s breakfast, and then some classroom time, and then a few meetings, and then that’s the day. Maybe some more classroom time. I’m not actually sure. No one gave me a schedule. I just gotta show up at 8:30, dressed casually, and ready to rock. Ready to rock hard. I’m ready. Let’s rock this shit.
But I’m not nervous. Well, maybe a little bit. Tomorrow starts “staff week” – the kids don’t come until after Labor day – so I’m really not expected to perform, at all, tomorrow, except to be present and alert and involved and engaged. Piece of cake. There’s breakfast, and then some classroom time, and then a few meetings, and then that’s the day. Maybe some more classroom time. I’m not actually sure. No one gave me a schedule. I just gotta show up at 8:30, dressed casually, and ready to rock. Ready to rock hard. I’m ready. Let’s rock this shit.
Friday, August 10, 2007
gouache (say "go-wash")
I haven’t posted in a few days because there hasn’t been many Delet-related things to post. In fact, there hasn’t really been anything. I’m waiting for TIOH to complete a final draft of my contract so I can go in and sign it so then I can get pay checks, but they’re still not ready. Apparently I fit into such a unique, strange, and unheard of category they don’t know how to word my contract. Or some other such nonsense.
But, I am enjoying my second round of semi-retirement. I guess it’s not officially retirement or disemployment anymore, because I am under contract with Delet, and will soon start to receive both relatively large amounts of money and insurance. But until August 27th, I’m a free free free man.
Yesterday, I painted for the first time since before Graduation. It was lovely (I was told by a friend that I say “lovely” too much. I countered by responding that I really don’t say "lovely" very much at all, I only write it. A lot. Maybe too much. So here goes nothing:). Painting was very relaxing and pleasurable. My friend Stephanzia, who is very artistic, came over and drew/sketched while I painted with Gouache paints. It was like an art-a-thon, except no one was raising money.
Gouache was a new medium for me – it’s a water-based paint, but thicker and with bolder pigment than general watercolors – and after a few pages of trial and errors, I feel I’m getting the hang of it. Sort of. I have very little actual painting technique, so I’m thinking I should get a book. Or take a class. Or do both. And then sometimes mixing the colors was a challenge. Like I’d add too much red and then suddenly the blue I was trying to mix would be brown. Stupid genetics. But it’s so calming, and soothing, and it’s an outlet for my super busy and super stressed out life.
But, I am enjoying my second round of semi-retirement. I guess it’s not officially retirement or disemployment anymore, because I am under contract with Delet, and will soon start to receive both relatively large amounts of money and insurance. But until August 27th, I’m a free free free man.
Yesterday, I painted for the first time since before Graduation. It was lovely (I was told by a friend that I say “lovely” too much. I countered by responding that I really don’t say "lovely" very much at all, I only write it. A lot. Maybe too much. So here goes nothing:). Painting was very relaxing and pleasurable. My friend Stephanzia, who is very artistic, came over and drew/sketched while I painted with Gouache paints. It was like an art-a-thon, except no one was raising money.
Gouache was a new medium for me – it’s a water-based paint, but thicker and with bolder pigment than general watercolors – and after a few pages of trial and errors, I feel I’m getting the hang of it. Sort of. I have very little actual painting technique, so I’m thinking I should get a book. Or take a class. Or do both. And then sometimes mixing the colors was a challenge. Like I’d add too much red and then suddenly the blue I was trying to mix would be brown. Stupid genetics. But it’s so calming, and soothing, and it’s an outlet for my super busy and super stressed out life.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Why capitalize those letters in DeLeT? Don't you know how to write?
I realized that I’ve been writing about this mysterious entity “DeLeT,” that has all these really funny capitalization and haven’t explained it at all. You’re either confused, or don’t care. But since this is a DeLeT inspired blog, humor me!
DeLeT is a Jewish day school teacher training program through Hebrew Union College in LA. Basically, it’s a 13 month program, the core of which is a year of what can best be referred to as student teaching in a classroom in a Jewish day school, bracketed by two summers of learning (classes on all sorts of teaching techniques, background, etc). While it is a graduate program, there is no degree waiting for me in a year. We come out of this as, and I’m quoting, “well-launched novice teachers.” I do get paid, so in that respect it’s very much like a job. But during the year I am both a full-time student at HUC as well as a full-time employee of Temple Israel of Hollywood.
The program is entering its 6th year; I am part of Cohort 6. There are five of us in the cohort, and we’re a pretty eclectic group, all coming from very different backgrounds and experiences and we bring something totally different. We spent the past month together, every day, the entire day, so we’re pretty well acquainted with each other. At least, in an academic setting. We’re all placed at different schools – three in LA and two in the Bay. I'm going to be at Temple Israel of Hollywood (TIOH) Day School, which is a day school part of a Reform congregation in, well, Hollywood. During the year we’re working at our schools every day, except Thursdays, when we spend five hours in the afternoon at HUC taking classes. The two guys in the Bay will learn with us via video conference (I’m already planning my Thursday wardrobes so I look good on camera. Suggestions?).
This summer we took classes in child development (early childhood, then middle childhood, and then early adolescence), teaching/learning about prayer, Jewish textual tradition, Parshat HaShavuah (“Torah portion of the week”), and a class called Teaching and Learning, which will continue through the year and it’s an introduction to how teaching-learning-content-school context all intersect, feedback on each other, and how it affects us, as teachers. It was all really great, but a huge overload of information. Like someone took a big syringe and injected it into our veins.
I’m going to be teaching in a 6th grade classroom. I’m really excited about TIOH – every time I’ve been there and everything I’ve heard about it from secondary sources leads me to feel is a very warm, open, committed day school that encourages growth in both its students and teachers. I know that sounds standard and “blah blah,” but as I’m coming to learn very fast, it is not at all standard or to be taken for granted in a day school community.
I've been writing DeLeT with these funny, random capitalized letters because that's how THEY (the ubiquitous) write it. DeLeT is a Hebrew word דלת meaning "door" or "doorway;" the program is designed to be a “doorway” into the world of teaching. But, because Jews can’t do anything straightforwardly, it’s also an acronym or mnemonic or something like that. The letters stand for words. (Quick Hebrew crash course: Hebrew words only have consonants, and the capitalized letters – all the consonants – represent the three letters in the Hebrew word). I’m not entirely sure what the letters represent, but I think the D stands for “Day School” the L stands for “Leadership” or “Leader” and the T stands for “Teaching” or “Teacher.” So that's the gist of it. Awwww.
I’m going to stop writing Delet with the caps now, because it’s annoying to type.
DeLeT is a Jewish day school teacher training program through Hebrew Union College in LA. Basically, it’s a 13 month program, the core of which is a year of what can best be referred to as student teaching in a classroom in a Jewish day school, bracketed by two summers of learning (classes on all sorts of teaching techniques, background, etc). While it is a graduate program, there is no degree waiting for me in a year. We come out of this as, and I’m quoting, “well-launched novice teachers.” I do get paid, so in that respect it’s very much like a job. But during the year I am both a full-time student at HUC as well as a full-time employee of Temple Israel of Hollywood.
The program is entering its 6th year; I am part of Cohort 6. There are five of us in the cohort, and we’re a pretty eclectic group, all coming from very different backgrounds and experiences and we bring something totally different. We spent the past month together, every day, the entire day, so we’re pretty well acquainted with each other. At least, in an academic setting. We’re all placed at different schools – three in LA and two in the Bay. I'm going to be at Temple Israel of Hollywood (TIOH) Day School, which is a day school part of a Reform congregation in, well, Hollywood. During the year we’re working at our schools every day, except Thursdays, when we spend five hours in the afternoon at HUC taking classes. The two guys in the Bay will learn with us via video conference (I’m already planning my Thursday wardrobes so I look good on camera. Suggestions?).
This summer we took classes in child development (early childhood, then middle childhood, and then early adolescence), teaching/learning about prayer, Jewish textual tradition, Parshat HaShavuah (“Torah portion of the week”), and a class called Teaching and Learning, which will continue through the year and it’s an introduction to how teaching-learning-content-school context all intersect, feedback on each other, and how it affects us, as teachers. It was all really great, but a huge overload of information. Like someone took a big syringe and injected it into our veins.
I’m going to be teaching in a 6th grade classroom. I’m really excited about TIOH – every time I’ve been there and everything I’ve heard about it from secondary sources leads me to feel is a very warm, open, committed day school that encourages growth in both its students and teachers. I know that sounds standard and “blah blah,” but as I’m coming to learn very fast, it is not at all standard or to be taken for granted in a day school community.
I've been writing DeLeT with these funny, random capitalized letters because that's how THEY (the ubiquitous) write it. DeLeT is a Hebrew word דלת meaning "door" or "doorway;" the program is designed to be a “doorway” into the world of teaching. But, because Jews can’t do anything straightforwardly, it’s also an acronym or mnemonic or something like that. The letters stand for words. (Quick Hebrew crash course: Hebrew words only have consonants, and the capitalized letters – all the consonants – represent the three letters in the Hebrew word). I’m not entirely sure what the letters represent, but I think the D stands for “Day School” the L stands for “Leadership” or “Leader” and the T stands for “Teaching” or “Teacher.” So that's the gist of it. Awwww.
I’m going to stop writing Delet with the caps now, because it’s annoying to type.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
three minor celebrities in one day
Let me first start this post with a digital moment of silence for the 7 dead people and 60 injured on the bridge in Minneapolis.
It freaked me out a lot when I first saw the new posting this afternoon. The bridge just... collapsed. It's crazy. It's horrible. just thinking that bridges can just... collapse. It's mind numbing. Scary. I'm never driving on a bridge again.
Anyway, tonight I went to an Ingmar Bergman double feature at the New Beverly Cinema with my friend Liz. Liz is an old friend from BBYO (the youth group I was in during my high school era) and just moved to LA to start grad school at USC film school. So she knows a lot, but is very non-pretentious about it. Anyway, Bergman died on Monday, and yet this double feature had been already on the New Bev schedule. Coincidence? I think so.
So, of course, it was packed. We sat through the first film - The Virgin Spring - despite not being able to read all the subtitles because of the big heads in front of us. The film was excellent, although intense and bleak and with some very strong Christian imagery at the end. We decided a second film (it was Wild Strawberries, for you Bergman fans) was too much, and so we left. We stood outside discussing the movie in a non-pretentious way (as compared to the guy in the tailored suit who threw in comparisons to Citizen Kane, Wagner, and Dostoyevsky in one breath).
Then I see a guy in line who looks familiar, and then I realize he's on the OC (or was on the OC). I pull Liz aside, and in hushed tones, I ask her to calmly look at the guy in the yellow shirt and see if she recognizes him. She says it's Adam Brody. Go me. He's kinda scruffy and has weird eyebrows, but we're pretty sure it's him. And then, a few people behind him, I see the guy who played Harold in Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle. Then we quietly freaked out for about 6 seconds, stopped, and then walked to our cars.
So these two minor celebs, coupled with the fact that I saw CJ from the third season of Top Chef at the Santa Monica Farmer's Market today, makes it a three-celebrity day. I can’t remember the last time I saw a celebrity when I wasn’t ushering. I feel so LA.
It freaked me out a lot when I first saw the new posting this afternoon. The bridge just... collapsed. It's crazy. It's horrible. just thinking that bridges can just... collapse. It's mind numbing. Scary. I'm never driving on a bridge again.
Anyway, tonight I went to an Ingmar Bergman double feature at the New Beverly Cinema with my friend Liz. Liz is an old friend from BBYO (the youth group I was in during my high school era) and just moved to LA to start grad school at USC film school. So she knows a lot, but is very non-pretentious about it. Anyway, Bergman died on Monday, and yet this double feature had been already on the New Bev schedule. Coincidence? I think so.
So, of course, it was packed. We sat through the first film - The Virgin Spring - despite not being able to read all the subtitles because of the big heads in front of us. The film was excellent, although intense and bleak and with some very strong Christian imagery at the end. We decided a second film (it was Wild Strawberries, for you Bergman fans) was too much, and so we left. We stood outside discussing the movie in a non-pretentious way (as compared to the guy in the tailored suit who threw in comparisons to Citizen Kane, Wagner, and Dostoyevsky in one breath).
Then I see a guy in line who looks familiar, and then I realize he's on the OC (or was on the OC). I pull Liz aside, and in hushed tones, I ask her to calmly look at the guy in the yellow shirt and see if she recognizes him. She says it's Adam Brody. Go me. He's kinda scruffy and has weird eyebrows, but we're pretty sure it's him. And then, a few people behind him, I see the guy who played Harold in Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle. Then we quietly freaked out for about 6 seconds, stopped, and then walked to our cars.
So these two minor celebs, coupled with the fact that I saw CJ from the third season of Top Chef at the Santa Monica Farmer's Market today, makes it a three-celebrity day. I can’t remember the last time I saw a celebrity when I wasn’t ushering. I feel so LA.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
printing my fingers
Today, I went and got my fingerprints printed. Can you say that? Let’s try again. Today, I went and had my fingers printed. It was simultaneously cool and weird.
Yesterday, I met with the HR manager at Temple Israel of Hollywood, my employer of this upcoming year, to go over payroll paperwork. It was a lot of fun, spending an hour filing out forms, writing my name, address, SSN, DOB, POB, DL#, etc many many times. Additionally, they require all new staff to be fingerprinted, so they can make sure I'm not a child molester or haven't committed statutory rape or some other such activities. Or, just that I don’t have a record of molestation and statutory. It was a little weird, because while I am going to be an employee of TIOH, they didn’t hire me. I was hired by DeLeT, and I'm also a part of DeLeT, and so you'd think that being a DeLeT fellow means I could skate by. But no, it couldn’t be that easy.
The HR guy gave a phone number to call, a state run company that submits my prints to both the FBI and the Department of Justice, compiles a report, and then sends it back to TIOH. Very exciting. So I went to this office in Culver City this morning, and, since it was in Culver City, even though I had perfect Google-map directions, I got lost.
After finding the building, I parked and walked into this office suite, and it got really surreal. There was a set of reception windows behind glass along one wall, but no one was behind the windows. The carpet was yellow and the room smelled like cherry juice. In the waiting chairs, there was an older woman with over bleached hair, in a beehive do, dressed in a frilly blouse, yakking away on her cell phone about banality and a very fat man with three chins sitting a few seats down from her. There was also a man sitting behind a folding table in the middle of the room, who, when I walked in and looked very confused, slurred, “Excuse me.”
I didn’t realize he was talking to me, and I said, “What?” “Excuse me, what do you want?” “I have an appointment for fingerprinting.” “Sit.”
That was it. He barely looked up from his newspaper. As I waited, people just kept walking in and out of the reception area, in and out of the office door. I couldn’t figure out what this office does other than fingerprint people, and yet it was strangely, very busy. All very hush hush.
I was called into the back room, gave the guy my form, and he processed the information. Then he pulled me up to a machine and printed my right hand, then my left, and then each finger individually. The machine was a scanner, except for fingers. It was kinda cool. Then I left.
I was confused about one thing though. If police can find criminals with part of one latent print, why did they need all ten of mine? Am I ten times the criminal that they need ten prints to find my nonexistent record? Joel Abramovitz, criminal mastermind. It seemed a little frivolous.
Yesterday, I met with the HR manager at Temple Israel of Hollywood, my employer of this upcoming year, to go over payroll paperwork. It was a lot of fun, spending an hour filing out forms, writing my name, address, SSN, DOB, POB, DL#, etc many many times. Additionally, they require all new staff to be fingerprinted, so they can make sure I'm not a child molester or haven't committed statutory rape or some other such activities. Or, just that I don’t have a record of molestation and statutory. It was a little weird, because while I am going to be an employee of TIOH, they didn’t hire me. I was hired by DeLeT, and I'm also a part of DeLeT, and so you'd think that being a DeLeT fellow means I could skate by. But no, it couldn’t be that easy.
The HR guy gave a phone number to call, a state run company that submits my prints to both the FBI and the Department of Justice, compiles a report, and then sends it back to TIOH. Very exciting. So I went to this office in Culver City this morning, and, since it was in Culver City, even though I had perfect Google-map directions, I got lost.
After finding the building, I parked and walked into this office suite, and it got really surreal. There was a set of reception windows behind glass along one wall, but no one was behind the windows. The carpet was yellow and the room smelled like cherry juice. In the waiting chairs, there was an older woman with over bleached hair, in a beehive do, dressed in a frilly blouse, yakking away on her cell phone about banality and a very fat man with three chins sitting a few seats down from her. There was also a man sitting behind a folding table in the middle of the room, who, when I walked in and looked very confused, slurred, “Excuse me.”
I didn’t realize he was talking to me, and I said, “What?” “Excuse me, what do you want?” “I have an appointment for fingerprinting.” “Sit.”
That was it. He barely looked up from his newspaper. As I waited, people just kept walking in and out of the reception area, in and out of the office door. I couldn’t figure out what this office does other than fingerprint people, and yet it was strangely, very busy. All very hush hush.
I was called into the back room, gave the guy my form, and he processed the information. Then he pulled me up to a machine and printed my right hand, then my left, and then each finger individually. The machine was a scanner, except for fingers. It was kinda cool. Then I left.
I was confused about one thing though. If police can find criminals with part of one latent print, why did they need all ten of mine? Am I ten times the criminal that they need ten prints to find my nonexistent record? Joel Abramovitz, criminal mastermind. It seemed a little frivolous.
Monday, July 30, 2007
A prize just for you!
Bonus points for the first person to name where the title of the blog comes from.
We'll start a quiz-show type competition. With prizes.
Oo! Who's excited?
I've never blogged before. It's a new experience. I feel obligated to post, at least, you know, every few days. I'm having a hard time coming up with post topics. Already. Jeez. Suggestions?
We'll start a quiz-show type competition. With prizes.
Oo! Who's excited?
I've never blogged before. It's a new experience. I feel obligated to post, at least, you know, every few days. I'm having a hard time coming up with post topics. Already. Jeez. Suggestions?
Friday, July 27, 2007
a noble experiment
I've never really understood the idea of a "blog." Even as part of the millennial generation, the concept of a blog as being a mode of cultural or political or personal communication has never quite made sense to me. It's just a funny idea. Someone writes their thoughts, for the entire world to digitally see, and then people can make comments. Is that an infringement on privacy? An intended intrusion? It's a funny concept. Even the name is funny. Blog. Blog.
But recently, I think I've come around. I've been reading a lot of blogs - mostly of friends, mostly travel realated - and they've sparked something in me. Does a public record make a moment more meaningful? Does it help give meaning to the person experiencing it? Maybe blogs are the solution to all of life's teensy, itty-bitty or momentous problems- our own form of self-therapy, self-aggrandizement, a self-directed GPS for life. A forum to vent, an opportunity to explore our relationships to the real/digital world, and a place to present a constructed self to John Q Public. Maybe, there's really something to them. Maybe not. But, only one way to find out. Hence, this noble experiment.
In my head, I'm primarily setting it up to chronicle, in some form, my DeLeT year - my first year teaching (or, at least, my first year in a real live classroom). I want to be able to look back on this tumultuous year, laugh a little, berate myself a little, weep a little, and then reflect upon all of those learning experiences. Of course, I can do this in a microsoft word document. But this way, I feel I'm prone to write better, make it more coherent, and provide potentially endless hours of guffaws for YOU: my faithful readers. So we'll see how this goes, and how much I actually talk about DeLeT and teaching, how much I use it as a self-aggrandizing soapbox, and how coherent it actually turns out.
So please be patient. I'm still learning how to type.
But recently, I think I've come around. I've been reading a lot of blogs - mostly of friends, mostly travel realated - and they've sparked something in me. Does a public record make a moment more meaningful? Does it help give meaning to the person experiencing it? Maybe blogs are the solution to all of life's teensy, itty-bitty or momentous problems- our own form of self-therapy, self-aggrandizement, a self-directed GPS for life. A forum to vent, an opportunity to explore our relationships to the real/digital world, and a place to present a constructed self to John Q Public. Maybe, there's really something to them. Maybe not. But, only one way to find out. Hence, this noble experiment.
In my head, I'm primarily setting it up to chronicle, in some form, my DeLeT year - my first year teaching (or, at least, my first year in a real live classroom). I want to be able to look back on this tumultuous year, laugh a little, berate myself a little, weep a little, and then reflect upon all of those learning experiences. Of course, I can do this in a microsoft word document. But this way, I feel I'm prone to write better, make it more coherent, and provide potentially endless hours of guffaws for YOU: my faithful readers. So we'll see how this goes, and how much I actually talk about DeLeT and teaching, how much I use it as a self-aggrandizing soapbox, and how coherent it actually turns out.
So please be patient. I'm still learning how to type.
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