Yesterday, February 5th, was the one-year anniversary of my appendectomy. Yay! It's weird to think that it's been a year since then. Most of the time I forget it even happened. On New Years Eve, I asked the friends I was with what was the best thing for their 2007, and the worst. My best was graduating college, and I couldn't come up with a "worst." Not in the sense that It was an AMAZING year, but that I couldn't figure it out. About 12 hours later, I was like, "Oh yeah. Appendectomy! That was pretty shitty."
In other news, February 5th was also Super Duper Fat Tuesday. How about that? Go Obama. Stupid Clinton (who, it came out today, gave herself 5 million dollars. Come on!). Looking forward to Louisiana, Nebraska, and Washington!
In other, other news, I taught a kick-ass parasha lesson today. This week it was Terumah, when God first commands the Israelites to build the Mishkan (Tabernacle). I brought in 4 post-biblical commentaries and the kids read them in groups and gave their own opinions as to WHY God would ask Moses and the Israelites to build a large, elaborate dwelling for God's presence (when, God is in fact supposed to be everywhere). It was a really good 45 minutes.
In other, other, other news (I feel a little like Tevye): it's also pictures week this week. Today was the 5th and 6th grade class photo. 5th grade was a mess; it took over 20 minutes (and the photographer, at the insistence of 2-3 5th graders, has us shout "Yes We Can! Cheney Sucks!"). 6th grade did it in less than 10. Whooo!
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
The year of a bore, and Barack Obama
I won't start off this post by apologizing for not posting since last year because, well, that's lame.
In fifth grade literature we started a dual book group project. Jo (my mentor/lead teacher) divided the class into half, by reading abilities, and she took the high readers to read "Dragonwings" and I'm working with the low reader reading "In the Year of the Boar and Jackie Robinson" (an old favorite of mine). We finished two weeks of this. I think it's going well.
On one hand, it's really cool, because I get a group of ten kids all to myself for 4 periods a week. They read aloud, I read aloud, we do vocabulary worksheets, comprehension questions, talk about interesting passages, reflect upon our own experiences, etc: basically really exciting/fun stuff. And I'm in charge. I get to set the pace, the tone, the direction, the meaning, tell them what's important, what's not important, help them, keep them in line (it's a super tough group to keep focused), and basically be their full-on teacher.
On the other hand, I have no fucking clue what I'm doing. I'm flying by the seat of my pants, and haven't had the time to stop and breathe and think about a long term goal/objective/enduring understanding the kids should walk away with (and I'm being trained to do that, so I guess I need some more work on that). I also have a hard time keeping track of the various needs each student has. It is a pretty ow group, and the problem is they're all low in different areas. Some are smart, but super lazy. Others have serious comprehension problems. Others just can't make sense of the words and need help with the actual reading. Others have processing issues. Others can read and understand but can't demonstrate that. And I'm worried that I'm boring or the book is boring or they just don't care. They probably don't. And they're so needy. They don't listen when I talk and then ask the same questions over and over and over again. I think I'm getting better at dealing with them, but, why knows?
They are adorable though.
In other news, how disappointing is Hilary's win in Nevada yesterday? I totally thought Barack had that one in the bag. He really needs to win in South Carolina, or else Tsunami Tuesday is going to be a wash in the wrong direction.
In fifth grade literature we started a dual book group project. Jo (my mentor/lead teacher) divided the class into half, by reading abilities, and she took the high readers to read "Dragonwings" and I'm working with the low reader reading "In the Year of the Boar and Jackie Robinson" (an old favorite of mine). We finished two weeks of this. I think it's going well.
On one hand, it's really cool, because I get a group of ten kids all to myself for 4 periods a week. They read aloud, I read aloud, we do vocabulary worksheets, comprehension questions, talk about interesting passages, reflect upon our own experiences, etc: basically really exciting/fun stuff. And I'm in charge. I get to set the pace, the tone, the direction, the meaning, tell them what's important, what's not important, help them, keep them in line (it's a super tough group to keep focused), and basically be their full-on teacher.
On the other hand, I have no fucking clue what I'm doing. I'm flying by the seat of my pants, and haven't had the time to stop and breathe and think about a long term goal/objective/enduring understanding the kids should walk away with (and I'm being trained to do that, so I guess I need some more work on that). I also have a hard time keeping track of the various needs each student has. It is a pretty ow group, and the problem is they're all low in different areas. Some are smart, but super lazy. Others have serious comprehension problems. Others just can't make sense of the words and need help with the actual reading. Others have processing issues. Others can read and understand but can't demonstrate that. And I'm worried that I'm boring or the book is boring or they just don't care. They probably don't. And they're so needy. They don't listen when I talk and then ask the same questions over and over and over again. I think I'm getting better at dealing with them, but, why knows?
They are adorable though.
In other news, how disappointing is Hilary's win in Nevada yesterday? I totally thought Barack had that one in the bag. He really needs to win in South Carolina, or else Tsunami Tuesday is going to be a wash in the wrong direction.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
I hear you, Joanna
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!
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!
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.
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