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!

"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.

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 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.

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!

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?

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.

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!