My 6th graders wrote me a poem.
It was a surprise. They wrote two acrostic poems, one about Jo and one about me, as sort of a "Thank you" which they read at graduation. We were both totally shocked - I knew they were planning something I couldn't know about, but I thought it was extra verses of a song that I actually did know about. But, I was wrong. It was a poem. I got really emotional, and after the ceremony, as I was congratulating my students, I was going to ask if I could have a copy of the poem, and one girl handed me a copy that they had all already signed. It was an electric, emotional, exciting moment.
Here is the poem in its entirety:
Joel Abramovitz is one a kind, a better teacher is hard to find.
Oh so supportive you have been to everyone in our class, the year we spent together is something that in our hearts will always last.
Excellent at teaching with a new and exciting mind, you are smart, helpful, caring, and kind.
Learned from you this year many things, a positive and interactive way of teaching is something with you you truly bring!
[The last two lines don't fit in the acrostic]
You are leaving to Israel next year, and we will definitely miss you so, but we appreciate all that you've done for us, and we hope that's something you know!
The road of being a teacher you have only just begun, but you have made this year fun for everyone!
I think it was a great year. I'm really proud of what I learned, accomplished, and did. And now... off to Israel!
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Intergenerational Day: Preview (review?)
I just got home from Intergenerational Day. It was a day I, and the rest of the staff of TIOH, have been dreading for weeks. And it was a lovely day, and an amazing night. I'm coming off an incredible high of the evening. It was the 6th graders' last IG Day (as they are graduating in less than 3 months) and the emotions were running high, and their performance tonight was great. Jo and I were faklempt (my eyes were misty; Jo might have been legitimately crying) and after the show the 6th graders had an incredible, electric energy back in the classroom. They were singing, and dancing, and hootin' n' hollaerin', hugging each other and Jo and me and shouting and stomping feet and carryin' on. Anyways, it was really wonderful and memorable and I will try to write more on the whole IG Day process soon... But no promises...
Expect the unexpected.
Expect the unexpected.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
i'm sorry... what did you say?
Man oh man the kids were punchy today.
Judaica is the last class Tuesday-Thursday, and today I was starting the class while Jeff, the Judaic teacher, was finishing 5th grade Judaica. I was trying to quiet the class and get them focused, and one boy was reading a book, and I stood in front of the room, waiting for his attention. The majority of the class was silent, at attention, but this one kid was reading, (un)intentionally oblivious. Then he looked up, put the sheet he was futzing with down, and asked, "Can I help you?"
What ridiculous chutzpah.
Quickly regaining my cool, but feeling the blood rush to my head and the impatience and anger starting to swell, I said, "You can help me by putting that sheet away and sitting quietly."
Zing!
Judaica is the last class Tuesday-Thursday, and today I was starting the class while Jeff, the Judaic teacher, was finishing 5th grade Judaica. I was trying to quiet the class and get them focused, and one boy was reading a book, and I stood in front of the room, waiting for his attention. The majority of the class was silent, at attention, but this one kid was reading, (un)intentionally oblivious. Then he looked up, put the sheet he was futzing with down, and asked, "Can I help you?"
What ridiculous chutzpah.
Quickly regaining my cool, but feeling the blood rush to my head and the impatience and anger starting to swell, I said, "You can help me by putting that sheet away and sitting quietly."
Zing!
Monday, March 17, 2008
saying goodbye... in march
I keep thinking about the song "Saying Goodbye" from The Muppets Take Manhattan. It's a quiet, lovely Muppet song, and when I was younger I would fast forward through it because I wanted to get back to the fast-talking Muppet brand of sass.
The sentiment of "Saying goodbye, why is it sad?/Makes us remember the good times we've had/Much more to say, foolish to try/It's time for saying goodbye/" never made much sense to me, as a little kids. But now I have some perspective, and have an idea of saying goodbye, I definitely appreciate the sad sad song. And especially now, as we approach the end of the year, it rings true. Not really for me, but for my kids, who have been at TIOH for years; many of them have been there, together, since Mommy and Me, and are now preparing themselves to leave. It's only mid-March, but I think they're getting ready to part and some of them (and definitely some of their parents) are having a hard time with this.
These feelings are especially intense this week because on Friday the Middle School acceptance/denial letters will be mailed, and the kids (and many, if not all, of their parents) are on some serious edge. It's a very stress-inducing process and it's reaching the climax. Some will have a happy weekend; others, not so much. Thank god they'll have the weekend to digest and come to school Monday (hopefully) doing okay.
So, to prepare them, Jo ended the day today with a class talk. We went to the courtyard and sat in a circle and went around talking about our favorite (or great) things about this year. It was so lovely, so nice, so positive. It was a crazy week last week, and there was some lingering craze today, crossed with growing stress and anxiety about the letters, that it was a great way to center the kids (and the teachers) and remind them how wonderful each and every one of them are.
At the same time, it totally reminded all of them (and the teachers) that there's only 10 weeks of teaching left in the year. So, yeah, we're getting ready to say goodbye.
The sentiment of "Saying goodbye, why is it sad?/Makes us remember the good times we've had/Much more to say, foolish to try/It's time for saying goodbye/" never made much sense to me, as a little kids. But now I have some perspective, and have an idea of saying goodbye, I definitely appreciate the sad sad song. And especially now, as we approach the end of the year, it rings true. Not really for me, but for my kids, who have been at TIOH for years; many of them have been there, together, since Mommy and Me, and are now preparing themselves to leave. It's only mid-March, but I think they're getting ready to part and some of them (and definitely some of their parents) are having a hard time with this.
These feelings are especially intense this week because on Friday the Middle School acceptance/denial letters will be mailed, and the kids (and many, if not all, of their parents) are on some serious edge. It's a very stress-inducing process and it's reaching the climax. Some will have a happy weekend; others, not so much. Thank god they'll have the weekend to digest and come to school Monday (hopefully) doing okay.
So, to prepare them, Jo ended the day today with a class talk. We went to the courtyard and sat in a circle and went around talking about our favorite (or great) things about this year. It was so lovely, so nice, so positive. It was a crazy week last week, and there was some lingering craze today, crossed with growing stress and anxiety about the letters, that it was a great way to center the kids (and the teachers) and remind them how wonderful each and every one of them are.
At the same time, it totally reminded all of them (and the teachers) that there's only 10 weeks of teaching left in the year. So, yeah, we're getting ready to say goodbye.
Friday, March 14, 2008
something in the water
This week has been hazy, loopy, discombobulated. A thing of madness. Like constantly walking underneath a waterfall. Strangely hallucinatory, but in a very lucid, straightforward sense. The children have been off the wall this week, silly and serious, demanding and meek, embodying all sorts of contradictions stuffed into muddles wrapped in enigmas. It's Friday evening and I'm exhausted, totally drained. I've used all my mental and emotional and physical capacities keeping my head together and maintaining my cool.
Is it because of daylight savings time?
Is it because middle school acceptance/rejection letters come out in a week?
Is it because it's Adar?
Who knows?
All I know is I'm going to bed early tonight!
Is it because of daylight savings time?
Is it because middle school acceptance/rejection letters come out in a week?
Is it because it's Adar?
Who knows?
All I know is I'm going to bed early tonight!
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Shakesperience!
Today we went on a field trip, to Glendale, to see a 90-minute Shakespeare play, called "Shakesperience!" It was a program designed for middle (and probably some high) school students to introduce them to Shakespeare. It was pretty cool actually.
It was at the Alex Theater which is the cool old theater/movie house in downtown Glendale - down the street from the almost infamous Galleria. There were a lot of schools there and they all came on busses and were sat and fed by old lady ushers (sort of like Design for Sharing, for you Royce kids). The show itself was a selection of scenes, all "on the common theme of relations between a man and a woman," from the following five plays:
1) Romeo and Juliet
2) Taming of the Shrew
3) Macbeth
4) Hamlet
Interlude - a mocking of the Julius Caesar (the play we'll be reading next month) assassination scene
5) Midsummer Night's Dream
It was a pretty good show. The acting wasn't amazing, but it was solid. They really played more towards the broader comedy in all of the scenes, even the unfunny ones (like "Out Damned Spot!" or the fight between Romeo-Tybalt-Mercutio), which I think made it much more accessible to the kids, even if some of the subtleties of the scenes were lost. But, I'm a but of a purist (snob? A rose by any other name...).
The whole thing was tied together by a "narrator" character, assuming the role of Robin Goodfellow (the real name of "Puck") who was actually the actor playing the part. More often than not he would break the 4th wall, and talk, in street speak, to the audience. It was good 11-year old humor. There was some hip-hop music in there, as well as ending the show with a pretty neato Elizabethan style dance.
I really like field trips in general. One, they break the monotony of the day. Two, I get to spend time with the kids in a non-academic environment. Three, I get to wear a t-shirt.
It was at the Alex Theater which is the cool old theater/movie house in downtown Glendale - down the street from the almost infamous Galleria. There were a lot of schools there and they all came on busses and were sat and fed by old lady ushers (sort of like Design for Sharing, for you Royce kids). The show itself was a selection of scenes, all "on the common theme of relations between a man and a woman," from the following five plays:
1) Romeo and Juliet
2) Taming of the Shrew
3) Macbeth
4) Hamlet
Interlude - a mocking of the Julius Caesar (the play we'll be reading next month) assassination scene
5) Midsummer Night's Dream
It was a pretty good show. The acting wasn't amazing, but it was solid. They really played more towards the broader comedy in all of the scenes, even the unfunny ones (like "Out Damned Spot!" or the fight between Romeo-Tybalt-Mercutio), which I think made it much more accessible to the kids, even if some of the subtleties of the scenes were lost. But, I'm a but of a purist (snob? A rose by any other name...).
The whole thing was tied together by a "narrator" character, assuming the role of Robin Goodfellow (the real name of "Puck") who was actually the actor playing the part. More often than not he would break the 4th wall, and talk, in street speak, to the audience. It was good 11-year old humor. There was some hip-hop music in there, as well as ending the show with a pretty neato Elizabethan style dance.
I really like field trips in general. One, they break the monotony of the day. Two, I get to spend time with the kids in a non-academic environment. Three, I get to wear a t-shirt.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Conferences: round two
Yesterday and today were parent-teacher conferences, two days worth. I got to skip out on today because I was teaching the kids (it's supposed to be one day, so Monday was a no-school day). I'm not sure who got the better end of the deal.
The whole idea of the 5th/6th grade team (6 teachers!) sitting around a table, waiting for their next victim, is a little nerve-racking for parents. It's a lot to take in and handle. A lot of feedback. I didn't say much. I listened. I contributed when I had something really different to add, but otherwise I was just an awkward extra body.
Oh! The parents! Such kvetchers! Some of them, most of them, are actually very nice. But others, oy. It's like being in the room with a helicopter and the blades don't stop whirring and you move out of the way so they don't slice your face off, but you move too slow.
And by the end of 7 hours of conferences (one 20 minute break), my mind was pretty loopy. Like being high. High on words.
The whole idea of the 5th/6th grade team (6 teachers!) sitting around a table, waiting for their next victim, is a little nerve-racking for parents. It's a lot to take in and handle. A lot of feedback. I didn't say much. I listened. I contributed when I had something really different to add, but otherwise I was just an awkward extra body.
Oh! The parents! Such kvetchers! Some of them, most of them, are actually very nice. But others, oy. It's like being in the room with a helicopter and the blades don't stop whirring and you move out of the way so they don't slice your face off, but you move too slow.
And by the end of 7 hours of conferences (one 20 minute break), my mind was pretty loopy. Like being high. High on words.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Civilize this!
Last week, I finished teaching my first unit, conceived, planned, designed, and taught all by moi.
Ta-da!
Am I a teacher now? Not quite.
It was a unit on the origins of civilizations (not necessarily a small topic, but one we covered in a short period of time, although now I feel I could design a whole semester on this). It featured six lessons, showing the progression of human society through various typological phases:
1) Introduction; Hunter-gatherer lifestyle
2) Agriculture
3) Cities
4) Civilizations
5) Culture
6) How it all fits together (not a misnomer)
I'm really thrilled on the results. Planning the unit was cool, because I got to revisit all of my (not so) old anthropology notes and texts and articles and take a lot of information from them. I got to use a lot of typologies and characteristics and information I learned from good ole' Brantingham and Lesure and Smith et al. It also make me a true expert in the classroom. I totally convinced them I knew exactly what I was talking about (because I actually did) and there were moments when you could have heard a pin drop because they were hanging on every word I said. No joke. Like when they asked about early art, and I told them the earliest human art was found in Australia. Silence. "Really?" "How come?" "What was it?"
The teaching of the unit was spread over the course of three weeks, and I could see a definite improvement in my teaching as the lessons progressed. I was constantly revamping and reworking the structure and delivery of the lessons, writing new handouts and worksheets, creating vocab lists and homework, etc etc etc. It was a lot of fun, albeit a tad stressful. But I hope the students learned something.
Their final assessment is to take a stance on this question: was the development of civilizations good or bad? And then design a brochure/pamphlet arguing their case using a specific civilization (Egypt, India, or an imaginary one) for the details.
Part of the problem is my lead teacher and I got some of our signals with the timeline of the project muddled, so she assigned a big project for the ancient India unit due in a week and a half, so even though this brochure is supposed to be a smaller assignment, the kids were going, "This is too much!" "It's not fair" "You want us to fail" "I don't understand how we can do all of this!" Stuff like that. That sucked. It was like fending off small animals attacking me, many at a time. All I needed was a big stick. Wham! Bam! Slap! Whack!
Ta-da!
Am I a teacher now? Not quite.
It was a unit on the origins of civilizations (not necessarily a small topic, but one we covered in a short period of time, although now I feel I could design a whole semester on this). It featured six lessons, showing the progression of human society through various typological phases:
1) Introduction; Hunter-gatherer lifestyle
2) Agriculture
3) Cities
4) Civilizations
5) Culture
6) How it all fits together (not a misnomer)
I'm really thrilled on the results. Planning the unit was cool, because I got to revisit all of my (not so) old anthropology notes and texts and articles and take a lot of information from them. I got to use a lot of typologies and characteristics and information I learned from good ole' Brantingham and Lesure and Smith et al. It also make me a true expert in the classroom. I totally convinced them I knew exactly what I was talking about (because I actually did) and there were moments when you could have heard a pin drop because they were hanging on every word I said. No joke. Like when they asked about early art, and I told them the earliest human art was found in Australia. Silence. "Really?" "How come?" "What was it?"
The teaching of the unit was spread over the course of three weeks, and I could see a definite improvement in my teaching as the lessons progressed. I was constantly revamping and reworking the structure and delivery of the lessons, writing new handouts and worksheets, creating vocab lists and homework, etc etc etc. It was a lot of fun, albeit a tad stressful. But I hope the students learned something.
Their final assessment is to take a stance on this question: was the development of civilizations good or bad? And then design a brochure/pamphlet arguing their case using a specific civilization (Egypt, India, or an imaginary one) for the details.
Part of the problem is my lead teacher and I got some of our signals with the timeline of the project muddled, so she assigned a big project for the ancient India unit due in a week and a half, so even though this brochure is supposed to be a smaller assignment, the kids were going, "This is too much!" "It's not fair" "You want us to fail" "I don't understand how we can do all of this!" Stuff like that. That sucked. It was like fending off small animals attacking me, many at a time. All I needed was a big stick. Wham! Bam! Slap! Whack!
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Appendectomy: One year later!
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!
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!
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.
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!
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