I stand corrected

The Art Teacher only teaches 2 art classes and 1 music class. The other day she asked if we could hire a part time music teacher so she would only have to teach 2 classes!

Usually when a teacher is out my school we have to give up our preps since there are no subs. Our math teacher was out on Friday. I refused to give up my only prep and told the lead teacher to give the classes to the 2 teachers who only have 3 classes and another who only has 4 classes to teach. Well, guess what? The other teachers gave up their preps to cover the classes because the assistant principal said she covered 2 classes. The poor thing couldn't cover the rest? We bust our asses and she gets to walk through the school without a care in the world. I am so pissed off.

My Week In The Classroom

Monday:

1st period two of my advanced U.s History students looked at me after I had just explained the difference between democracies, monarchies, and dictatorships, when they looked up at me and said, "Why are you teaching here? You are so smart." I replied, "Do you want people who don't know their subjects here teaching you?" They replied, "Yeah teachers know their subjects but you are too smart to be teaching here." How do you respond to that?

Tuesday-

One of my students told me, "You got me suspended for three days." I replied, "I got you suspended? Are you sure it was not for something you did yourself?" He replied. "You told me you were going to throw away the gang symbols I drew all over my paper but you turned them in. You tricked on me." My response was, "First off, I do trick. It's my job. Secondly, I warned you the first time about the gang drawing. Especially when you are using MY supplies. I told you as long as you threw it out and didn't use my supplies or paper I was fine. Instead you drew another one. THAT is the one I turned in."

Wednesday-

We have a new Art Teacher in the building. She just started Monday. To me, I feel she is stand-offish. She looks down her nose at people. Not just the students but to faculty as well. During 9th period I caught a student in the hallway (our Principal told us the day before under NO circumstances should he be allowed out of class). When I confronted him he first pulled on the Math Teachers door then began to open the Art Teachers door. Since it was her first week I did not want her to be hit with the wandering trouble makers.I stood in her doorway, blocking the student from entering her room and called to her. She was standing in the middle of the classroom. She was not lecturing, talking to a student or supervising work. I called her name 6 times before she looked up and said "Yes". In the time I was calling her, the students sitting around her kept looking at her with a bewildered expression, such as, why are you not answering your fellow teacher. My hide was chapped at that point with her.

Thursday-

As the Art Teacher was hired during mid-semester there were only 2 art and 2 music classes that were for the teacher to complete teaching. Meanwhile ALL of the Teachers (minus the one who teaches 2 career classes, 2 consumer ed classes, and has field work to secure jobs for our students) teach 8 classes a day including lunchroom duty and homeroom. This teacher teaches 2 classes in the morning and 2 in the afternoon, has NO homeroom, and has 6 periods free!!!!!!!!! The rest of us have ONE!!!!!! free period. This woman had the nerve to ask the Lead teacher today if we could hire a part-time Music teacher to take her Music classes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This would leave her with only 2 classes to teach and only in her subject area. ALL of the teachers have more than one subject matter to teach. On top of that she makes as much as I was initially offered for this year!!!!! It is 2K more than what we were offered at the beginning of last school year!!!!!!!!!!

Holy F@cking Sh$t!!!

I am still in shock as to what happened today after school. At about 2:50 (the time I am packing my things to leave) I hear a teacher yell for our Principal and start running down the hall towards the North Avenue exit (a super busy main street on the westside of the city). I run after to see if someone was hurt or if anyone needed help.

As soon as I made it out of the doors I saw our ENTIRE student body and some of their peeps from the block literally sprawled across North Avenue (Blocking all 4 lanes of traffic!) while at least 2 girls were fighting. I am not over stating when I say it was a street riot. The Principal, Assistant Principal, and Security were trying to pull people off of each other. The two warring girls were on opposite sides of the street while we tried to maintain peace and get our students to leave when a whole pack of students crossed the street and the brawl started again. All 4 lanes of traffic were stopped. Some of the students were leaning and punching while on the cars that had no where to go.

We called the police within a matter of minutes when the first brawl started. (Remember the time was 2:50) The second brawl stopped. We pulled some of the girls into the school who were fighting to try to stop the fighting. While those girls were inside another brawl started with friends of the girls. Again North Avenue was blocked. While the Principal and Assistant Principal were trying to break that up the girls pulled inside began fighting. We were pulling them off of each other. Meanwhile our entire student body and a bunch of peeps from the block are outside. By the time we got the fighting outside stopped it was 3:30. Still no police arrived.

I stayed outside to make sure the students getting on the bus really got on the bus and did not stay to fight some more. Once insde the school another fight broke out with the girls. We finally got them into seperate classrooms and the office. While they were in the classrooms they began calling their own people to come up to the school.

Our Principal went into each room. I am not sure what was said. The girls were still in the school. Not to be released until a parent came to get them. By now it was 4:00 and still no police. One of the girls mother's showed up with about 10 young men and came into the school. It looked like it was going to be set off again. We called the police AGAIN and waited. Finally we were able to get the boys to wait outside but the dammage was done. While the police finally came the boys had left to go down to Cicero Avenue (it is a HUGE intersection of North Avenue with 6 lanes.)

The police told us they would try to have a car by the school between 2:30 and 3:00 and told us they had to leave because a fight broke out on North and Cicero they had to stop. That fight was obviously an extension of what happened by our school.

I am still in utter shock that the police were called several times due to the magnitude of the brawls and it took from 2:50-4:05 till any police arrived at the school.

I would not be suprized if there was not a shooting in the area tonight. I am sure tomorrow will be just as bad if not deadly. I just had one of my favorite students return to school after he was shot at a party. 2 other people died that night but the bullet only went through his shoulder. He is 17 years old!

Been awhile

I know it's been awhile since my last blog. BVetween teaching summer school and getting rejected by CPS schools, I've been pretty crazy. I just wish it were easier to have a decent paying teaching position. When you are paid 15-20K below that of a starting teacher in a public school, it really sucks. And of course you do twice the work with no benefits. Why do I continue with this maddness you may ask? Because I LOVE teaching. I know what I was meant to do. Sure I get crazy and frustrated sometimes but it is still the right fit for me.Since I have low level learners I wanted to make US History sink in.

I decided to teach WWII to Present, as it is only 4 weeks. It was amazing how taken my students were with "The Pianist". They begged to watch it 3 TIMES! I know it was not to just watch a movie, we actually discussed it and the political and military situations surrounding it. It was such a raving success we used "Saving Private Ryan" for the American view of the war. It was wonderful being able to disuss the U-Boats and JFK being a commander on one. They watched the war in a new way, relating it to the war going on in Iraq. I really felt like I was getting through to them.That feeling is why I love teaching. We have good days and bad days.

As we moved to the 1950's I brought in sheets of slang words from the 50's and had them describe an average story of their own replacing their slang with 50's slang. They loved it. One student said he was going to bring some of the words back into style.These are young adults from a very poor urban area. Most of them have done jail time. To watch them enjoy learning (without realizing they are actually doing it) makes my heart burst. Will they ever memorize all of the President's of the United States? Problably not. But what they will have is some historical resarch skills and a firm grasp on the culture of the US, at least in the 1940's and 1950's.

Arrakis-3 years ago

I was looking for a paper I'd written about the Enola Gay, to share with my class next week. While searching I came across something I'd written almost three years ago. (I still cannot believe it has been three years)I do not even remember writing this. But for my dearest lost love, a tribute:

Arrakis

Waiting for the inevitable is always difficult. Oppression of a heavy heart while attempting to produce a seemingly productive day weighs me down as I ascend the steps to my third floor apartment. Today would be the day. The finality of a gut feeling that today would be the day.

For months the signs have been there. Life has a way of assisting in the blindness of what is nearest to your heart. I was fortunate enough to have enough distractions to overlook sickness and sorrow. Now as each step brings me closer to what I've been avoiding for the past four months, the soon to be emptiness of loss.

The key turned softly in the door. I dared not look in the corner of the kitchen. Rather, I deposited my bags and sweater beside my desk, turned on my pc to check the day's e-mail and thought of what may await me in the kitchen. With resignation I stood, and slowly entered the kitchen.

She was there, sleeping in the same corner she'd occupied for the past month. The towel that I'd covered her with this morning still draped over her. Lightly I touch her head and she raised it slowly. My dear sweet friend is slowly leaving me. I begin to feel the sting of tears that have continually fallen since the beginning of the end.

Almost twenty-one years with a friend seems to have gone by so quickly. I look at the face of a love and comfort in my life as she suffers and awaits her own passing. I lay down on the floor beside her, not knowing what more I can do. I pet and comfort her, hoping that she knows I am still here. That she is not alone.

Something was wrong with her, I knew it in May as summer approached. It started simply enough with calling her and her non-response. My husband reminded me that she was getting older and it was normal for hearing loss. She moved a bit slower but was still the beautiful girl I'd always known.

By July she began loosing her sight. Normally dainty and refined in movements, she had begun to bump into walls. I began tapping on the floor to get her attention for food and affection. The one thing I didn't want to do was completely handicap her by carrying her from one place to another.

She began spending all of her time on the rug on our son's floor. Only moving to eat, use her facilities and return to her area on the rug. Our son began covering her with a towel to keep her warm through the night. I felt as if it provided some comfort to her as an arm protectively holding her.

Distractions came easy for the month of August and into September as I began full-time student teaching while maintaining a reading class, volunteering at the park and raising a son. Each day brought new adventures, tales and life. As my life progressed hers deteriorated. A once proud and undefeatable defender of my youth slowly began her final stages into death.

September brought other tears to shed, as her back legs no longer supported her. Her days were confined to the kitchen close to her food and water. Every evening I would spend a few moments sitting beside her on the floor, crying for what I knew the outcome would be. Towards the end of the month she refused to eat and only drank if her head was held up to drink. My tears never seemed to dry. During the day I was "on" with a smile on my face and command in my voice. The end of the day was spent watching the listless form on the floor that resembled my dearest friend.

Often I would talk to her, letting her know I was there for her and it was okay for her to let go. I apologized for the pain she was going through and damned myself for not taking her in for a slight pinprick to end her pain. I don't know if she suffered for she rarely cried out. When she did cry I cried, put my arm around her and repeated that she was not alone.

Now as I lay here next to my dear friend I cry for the life that will not be shared with her. I cry for the loss our son will feel and most importantly for the void that will be left in our lives. She'd managed to survive an apartment fire twenty years ago, travel from one apartment to the next with me and finally across the country and back again, always beside me and always accepting.

My husband and son came home that night to find me still at my post, lying beside her. My husband spoke to our son, though he knew she was sick, the comprehension of what would be the end washed new tears down his cheeks. Our lovely son took my post for an hour or so. He'd drawn a beautiful picture for our fallen soul. As the night progressed I felt the need for solitude and reflection with her.

Alone in the kitchen I spoke to her of our life together. I spoke of how many wonderful memories were shared with one another. I whispered that it was okay to let go. She had a wonderful life. Over and over I kept repeating, "You are not alone". When her final breaths were upon her I laid my head close to her, looking into her eyes and held her paw in mine. I hurt from watching her take her last gasps yet did not want her to die alone. I stared into her eyes as her breaths became more and more infrequent until her last gasp. I held her eyes and knew the moment she passed. I sat up and sobbed, holding her close to me, knowing she was no longer there.

Supreme Court, jobs, and money

I am in such a confused state. I had a Management Recruiting firm contact me about a position in the suburbs doing my old line of work for a substancial amount of money more than I am making. Our finances have suffered as I have taken such a low paying teaching job at a charter school. If I worked for the public schools I would be making about what the outside company is offering me. My problem is, I love teaching. What do I do?

We really need the money. Maybe now that the supreme court had their ruling about desegregation in the the schools the rule will appy to teachers as well. I am sorry this ruling came so late. Maybe my son would have been concidered in his choices of schools without race as a factor. At least based on an article I read, race will be taken out when factoring in for admission into magnet schools. I found it so odd that my son, who tests at a post high school level in all areas (except Math, he was at a Sophomore level, scoring in the 99th percentile range was rejected, not to mention for the random lottery. But will this apply to teachers as well?

One of the high schools by my house told me I was the wrong color to apply there. Will this decision allow me to have a chance for a teaching position in my area without a quota system in the city of Chicago? I still don't know what I should do now. We really need the money and yet I have worked so had to become a teacher. I love being in the classroom. Why does it have to be this hard?

School is almost out!

School is almost out, finally. Of course we still have to teach summer school in 2 weeks, but I'll take the 2 weeks off. Graduation was really nice. I'd never been part of a faculty with graduating students before. It was so bitter sweet. The hopes and dreams you see of your young men and women who walk proudly down the aisle to receive their diplomas made me weep. Even the students who you don't always get along with you weep for their accomplishment and happiness.

Today was a little scary. The husband woke up with numbness in the left arm.I took the day off to get him to the Dr.'s. Everything is good.And we got a day off on one of the most beautiful summer days this season.

Frontal Lobe Dementia

This is the illness my uncle Charley has. He is only 39 years old.

FRONTAL LOBE DEMENTIA AND PICK'S DISEASE

Like Alzheimer's disease, Pick's disease and frontal lobe dementias cause a progressive and irreversible decline in a person's abilities over a number of years. Frontal lobe dementia and Pick's disease are the cause of less than 10 per cent of all dementias and may usually be distinguished from Alzheimer's disease early in the course of the illness.

Arnold Pick first described Pick's disease in a 71-year-old man in 1892. Pick's disease affects the temporal lobes of the brain in 25 per cent of cases, frontal lobes in 25 per cent and both frontal and temporal lobes in 50 per cent. Frontal lobe dementia affects the frontal lobes initially. Damage to the frontal lobes leads to alterations in personality and behaviour, changes in the way a person feels and expresses emotion, and loss of judgement.

Who can get the disease?
Anybody can get the disease, although there may be geographical differences in the incidence of Pick's disease. Some studies suggest the disease to be more common in women while others suggest a greater risk in men. The most severe cases of Pick's disease occur before the age of 60 years. The highest incidence is between 50 and 60, but people may develop the disease earlier or up to 80 years.

What is the cause?
As with Alzheimer's disease, in most cases, the cause cannot yet be determined. However, there are strong genetic components in certain families. When there is a genetic element, it is autosomal dominant, (on average, half of the children of an affected parent will develop the disease, but half will not) but is clearly modified by a number of environmental factors as yet to be discovered. The genetic component has been variously described as affecting 20 to 50 per cent of people with Pick's disease.

Diagnosis
Although Pick's disease can only be conclusively diagnosed after a person's death by a post mortem examination of the brain, there are several techniques, such as brain scans and EEGs, which can be used during the person's lifetime to give a probable diagnosis. These techniques can help in determining whether the dementia is likely to be Pick's disease or a closely related disorder, for example, Alzheimer's disease.

Prognosis and treatment
As yet, there is no cure for Pick's disease and neither can the progression be slowed down with any medication treatment. Probably because Pick's disease is much less common than Alzheimer's disease, there is less research into Pick's, and there are currently no drug trials taking place in relation to treating Pick's disease.

The course of Pick's disease is an inevitable progressive deterioration. From the onset of the disease, life expectancy is 2-15 years, with an average of 6-12 years. Death is usually caused by infection.

Some of the symptoms of the disease can be treated effectively. For example, certain medications can reduce some of the behavioural problems. Also knowing more about the disease and why the person is behaving as they are can in itself be an effective means of helping people to cope with the disease.

Then there was 1

Ever since I was born there have been 2 constants in my life, Chris and Charley. Chris and Charley are my uncles but more like brothers. Chris was 3 years older than I and Charley is 1 year older than I. My beloved Chris died 10 years ago on June 6th. Today I called Charley to make sure he had the invite to the kids 8th grade graduation party. Charley gave me the hardest pill to swallow.

It seems that he was diagnosed with a non-curable genetic disease that effects your mind. He is going to die. As soon as he told me this I thought he was joking. As we talked I knew he was not. The tears began to flow. I spent most of today crying and in bed.

My childhood was rocky to say the very least. My mother moved us every year. through the insanity that is her life, moving, the cult she had me in, my one refuge was to see Chris and Charley every day. Sure they were typical evil boys but they were my evil protectors. I always felt safe with them around. I did not have friends growing up. I was not allowed to have non-JW friends and the JW kids didn't play with me because my mother had me out of wedlock and she was gay. Chris and Charley were my brothers and best friends all rolled up into one.

As the years passed we grew apart but always had a bond. Chris was the one most like me. Charley was the good one with a big heart. When I look at the kid sometimes I can see glimpses of Chris and Charley in him. I mentioned this to Charley but Charley told me he sees Chris.

My heart is breaking. I will be the only one left. My poor Grandmother. She will have lost both of her youngest children while she is still living. She is strong but the death of Chris almost killed her. I have no idea how she will get through the death of Charley. I am so selfish to think of my own pain but I will now be truely alone. Both of my brothers gone.

The tears keep flowing, the lump in my throat keeps getting bigger. Why does life have to be so cruel?

Sucks to be me....

Why is it that it is impossible to have 2 minutes of instruction so students can begin the class? I swear, I spent almost 20 mintues waiting for them to be quiet 2nd period. I told them I give up and everyone gets a zero. They were so loud 2 security gards, the lunch lady, mantinence person and assistant principal came in.I was so pissed. I told them they keep telling me they are grown (18-21) yet don't act like it. They act worse than 6 year olds! I hate getting angry at work. I hate feeling like these people that I am here to help could give less than a rats ass. They are so disrespectful and rude. I could be working in corporate America making double what I am now but choose to want to make a difference in lives.

As of December I have one student who was murdered, one who is going to be serving hard time 3-5 for posession while on house arrest, and one who is at large for murdering someone. It makes me so sad. Am I even making a dent in anyones life?Had to call other Goddess for a laugh. The tears were ready to flow. Luckily she had a joke so corny it distracted me. Thank Dog for BF's!

A Kiss Goodbye?

I teach at a school in a low-income area. many of these students' only meals are the ones that the school provides. As it is a small school and atendance is pretty poor, they do not serve hot lunch. These students eat cold sandwiches every day. I started a ritual during the winter of, everytime I went to Aldi's, I would buy a case of Rahman noodles. They avereged out to less than 10 cents for a hot meal. I would keep those in the classroom for students if they wanted a hot meal once an awhile.

The demand for noodles has been low and I haven't been to Aldi's since before Christmas. One of the students who would get noodles from me usually hadn't been in my class in almost 2 months. Yesterday he saw me in the hallway and asked for some noodles. I told him I was mad at him because I haven't seen him in months and missed him in class. While I was looking, with my arms folded, into my fellow teachers classroom with a pretend frowny face on, the student gave me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek and said he still moved me anyways, and scampered off. I went into my fellow teachers room and we laughed about what an odd thing to see. I am a physically distant person. People, especially students, pick up on that.

Today, I met with my fellow teachers for our morning ritual of talking about yesterdays events. I shared the story and went about the day. 4th period is lunch for most of the school. That and there being a field trip which took 30 students left me with no students for 4th or 5th. One of my other fellow teachers came to me during 4th period (a much needed time to catch up on grading) and told me that the homicide police were at the school during 4th period lunch looking for the student who kissed me on my cheek the day before. It seems that a few hours before that kiss on the cheek he killed a man. During the conversation with the other teacher she too had an odd experience with him coming up behind her at her desk, giving her a quick hug and kiss on the top of her head, and told her that he loved her.

Was that because he knew he would be caut? Or that he was leaving the city and it was his way of saying goodbye? The only other time I remember an affectionate act as striking me as odd was the last time I saw my uncle Chris. When he was leaving my house after visiting for the day he hugged me and told me what a great mother I was and how proud of me he was and how much he loved me. The hug lasted longer than our standard hug and it stayed with me for days after until 2 weeks later when I got the call that he hanged himself.

I don't know now, like I didn't know then, how to feel. This was a student that was very smart, stayed up on current events, could debate political views, and was a talented writer. It is such a waste. A waste of life for the man he killed and that of the life he will spend in prison when he is caught.

Grandma

I love my Grandma!

One of my aunt's e-mailed me this morning to tell me my Grandmother was in the hospital. She'd been there since midnight on Sunday. The hospital is only a block from my house. I was pretty cheesed no one told me sooner. After I picked up the boy from school we went to the hospital and spent 3 hours with her.

One of the great things about my Grandmother is her sense of humor. She is very devilish and has quite a evil wit about her. She began telling the boy and I about the neighbors who lived next door to them in the 70's in Rogers Park. Back then my Grandparents owned a beautiful greystone 2 blocks from the lake (Lake Michigan). It was my second home and the only place I ever felt loved. The couple who lived next door to my Grandparents HATED my family. My Grandparents had 12 children, the oldest being my mother and the youngest being an uncle 1 year older than me. That uncle and my other uncle who was 3 years older than I (my beloved Chris) were constantly terrorizing the neighborhood with their boyish antics. This neighbors had several verbal spats with my Grandparents.

My Grandmother found these people to be boorish and petty. As my grandmother was a very active member of the community she worked quite a bit with the police department. Everyone knew her (and no, not from her children's activities). One summer evening my Grandmother decided to get some air. She sat on the front porch drinking some god awful orange kool aid like stuff. A police car drove by. She knew the officers. The officers also knew of the horrible neighbor with the blood feud (this guy would hold his dog over the chain link fence while it crapped so it would crap into my Grandparents back yard. The guy was a bit tapped). The police shined their bright light on the neighbor who was also sitting on his porch, then quickly got out of the squad car, walked up my Grandmothers steps, put her in cuffs, put her in the back seat and drove off. The neighbor was in shock. The great thing about this was they drove and dropped her off in the back of the house. This would happen every week or so. What a laugh! Only my feisty Grandmother could pull something like this off. My Grandmother is my hero. Not just for this but for all that she has done in my life.

52, Are You Kidding Me?

My 2nd Period Class was just given 5 new students in the last 2 days bringing my total number of students in that class to 52. It is a Consumer Ed class and let me tell you, it is next to impossible to teach 52 Alternative Ed Students at the same time.This morning a boy was in the Computer lab during my 1st period Computer class. I asked him to leave. 10 minutes later he was still there I asked him to leave again and he became volitale. I wrote him up and then had to see him the next period. Again he began to become riled up. I have security in my class this period because of the size, 52. When security tried to take him out he took a swing at the security guard. This turned into security, a male teacher and the lunch lady trying to restrain the boy. Mean while all of the students have poured into the hallway and want to jump on the teacher and security so we are trying to pull students off the faculty and not get hit in the process.I told them repeatedly there are too many students in this class. I was informed yesterday that they would not take anymore out of the class. I am stuck with 52 until June. I'm just awed I didn't get punched in the process. Here I am, all 5'3 of me pulling these 6 foot kids off of a fellow teacher. Even though the male teacher was on the ground with the kid, security and the other students, he's alright. Poor guy.Well, I guess it's back to attempting to grade papers, ha.My rant is over.And by the way, my favorite nephew has turned 18 today! I could weep when I think of him growing up. He has turned into such a cool dude. Of course having a Goddess for a Mother and Aunt doesn't hurt. Big Props to this awesome Dude!

WHAT THE HELL!!!!

I called my Grandmother about an hour ago to see how she was doing. It's been awhile since I've spoken to her. Probably since I first started teaching in September. She told me something that completely shocked me. My cousin Tyler, who is 6 months older than my son, HAS CANCER! The doctors found a tumor on his thyroid so they decided to take both out to be on the safe side. When they took out the one without the tumor they found cancer. His mother, my aunt who is the same age as my husband, had a complete liver transplant a year and a half ago due to Hepatitis C. Now her only child has cancer. I guess they tested to see if they got all of the cancer and we will know something in the next few days. How insane!

To Cry...

I have this amazing student who just transfered in this semester. She only needs 2 classes, both mine, to graduate. This remarkable young woman gives you hope for the inner city and with the youth of today. She is like a ray of sunshine to walk into the class every morning. She is a single mother of 2, works full time at a hospital, has her own rock band (in a school where 99% is all Rap, it is a breath of fresh air), and pretty damned smart to boot.

Last week she told me that doctors discovered a tumor on her brain. She told me on Friday that she would be getting results this Saturday. What I was faced with this morning that this wonderful girl was dying. There is a surgery that could maybe save her but the likelihood of survival was only 25%. If she does not do the surgery she has at the most, 2 years to live. It took all I had to not cry today. Such a wonderful girl who has so much potential will not be here to see her own daughters graduate high school or even grade school.

There is so much ugliness in the world. Often I go to work dreading it until I find a student like this who makes you happy you showed up. When I told her it was breaking my heart she told me not to be sad, it was difficult for her to be around sad people. She wanted to go on with the life she has left. By 3rd period I was bawling like a baby.

When faced with something like this it really makes my problems seem so insignificant.

Last Week Was Not My Week

Monday-Was in a hit and run. There I was minding my own business and this stupid woman hits me while I am at a complete stop for the traffic facilitators. She was going at least 35.

Tuesday & Wednesday-Cannot move my neck. Find out the stupid woman does not have insurance and I only have liability as the car is old and I am an under paid teacher at a charter school.

Thursday & Friday-Horrible days with students. This new kid kept throwing up gang signs and one of my brighter ones would not wake up during 7th.

Friday night-Start feeling really ill.

Saturday-Felt like a truck ran me over. Went to doctors for results but she has to do the test over because she didn't get a good sample.Still had to write lesson plans for next week.

Sunday-6 loads of laundry and feeling like complete crap.

Today-Day off of school. Could do nothing but sleep. Papers still in a pile ungraded.

I feel like crap, need at least 2 more days of bed rest but cannot take days off of work. The National Accreditation walk through is this week and a day off means a day that my fellow teachers loose their preps and deal with my classes. I could just scream! If I were in a real school I would be able to have a day off and know that a Sub would come in.

Just a cranky week and day

10 Years?

Yesterday I cleaned out our storage unit to find things for the rummage sale at the boys school. What I also found was Chris' old answering machine. That was one of the things I got after he died. I packed it away without listening to it. I couldn't, the pain was still too fresh. I brought it upstairs with me yesterday and played his incoming messages. On one side were the last messages he received. It was so sad to hear his last message, the one from my Grandmother. There were only a few messages, one from my younger cousin inviting him to my aunts birthday party and a few from his friend in Wisconsin. The one person who loved him most of all was the last person to leave a message for him. I turned the tape over to see if their was anything else. While listening I realized what the other side was. He had saved all of the messages from his wife. There were many messages of love from both she and he to each other. There was one message from my uncle Charley and a shock voice, mine! He had saved a few voices on the back of the tape, during his happy time with his wife, and I was one of them. It was the only time I have ever heard my recorded voice and didn't hate it. Maybe because there was emotion in my voice. Maybe because it was for Chris. I do not know. Hearing his voice made me remember him all the more. I always think of Chris but hearing his voice made the memories all the more vivid. The tears did not flow yesterday while I sat there listening to a peice of his life. Now they do. I miss him so very much. It never gets easier. Time does not heal this wound. I wish we could have given him more to live for.

Geek?

You are 35% geek

You are a geek liaison, which means you go both ways. You can hang out with normal people or you can hang out with geeks which means you often have geeks as friends and/or have a job where you have to mediate between geeks and normal people. This is an important role and one of which you should be proud. In fact, you can make a good deal of money as a translator. Normal: Tell our geek we need him to work this weekend. You [to Geek]: We need more than that, Scotty. You'll have to stay until you can squeeze more outta them engines! Geek [to You]: I'm givin' her all she's got, Captain, but we need more dilithium crystals! You [to Normal]: He wants to know if he gets overtime.

Take the Polygeek Quiz at Thudfactor.com

What a "Cat"

I took a feline quiz, seeing as how I am part cat, and was amazed at who I was most like as a cat:




You're the Pink Panther. Suave and sophisticated, you enjoy your superiority and your natural grace. Though to some, this attitude makes you appear arrogant, most people are attracted by it rather than turned off. You especially enjoy being in the social spotlight. It just doesn't get any better than this.

http://www.quizilla.com/users/laur/quizzes/


1468 other people got this result!
This quiz has been taken 47017 times.
18% of people had this result.


Am I really this bad?

Drug Awareness Month

As it is Drug Awareness month at my school I chose to do something a little different than I normally do. Usually I write a quote for each theme from a President or famous person as it relates to the topic. Though I find them amusing and witty, it is not always the case with my students. This month was a little different.

The following is the quote I put on the board:

Needlework the way, never you betray
life of death becoming clearer
Pain monopoly, ritual misery
chop your breakfast on a mirror
Taste me you will see
more is all you need
you're dedicated to
how I'm killing you

It sparked an interest in the class. One of my students told me the following, "That shit's like Shakespeare. All poetic and shit." I made a vow to e-mail Metallica, the authors of one of the best anti-drug songs of my generation. My students are hardcore Rap lovers. The thought of these kids liking the lyrics and wanting to know where it was from was awesome. Of course when they found out there was a quiet pause.

Ah, the joys of introducing Metal to students without them knowing.....

What a Mother is....

My mother just left yet another message I have yet to return. It is so difficult. I often think of calling to let her know I do not hate her but I cannot live with the toxic side of being in her life but I cannot. As soon as I start talking to her the vicious cycle starts all over again. She will refuse to admit she chose her girlfriends over me. Refuse to accept responsibility for the insanity that was my youth. If she could just admit it was her choices and not that of the current flavor of her life maybe things could begin to heal. As soon as we begin talking again she not only brings up past wounds but then wants to rub salt in the wounds by passive aggressively blaming everything from the religion I was raised in (different nightmare for another day) to my grandparents to her exes.

Of all that I endured from her the only lesson she ever taught was how not to parent. That and to read to my son every night. She did do that once and awhile. Because of that I have read to my son every night, no matter what, until he could read on his own. Now he brings books like Java, and Macromedia manuals to bed before he sleeps. I have so tried to be the bigger person and call but I cannot. It has gotten me so desperate to leave that hurt and pain behind that I do not even talk to my family. I have been told more than once that I am just a niece and she is their sister. I am wrong for hurting her by not talking to her. I had one aunt yell at me over my Grandfathers death bed because my mother cried to her that I am not speaking to her. These are the same relatives I begged to live with when I was young. Begged because my mother was insane, in a cult and constantly left me with evil people of the religion so she could lust after someone new. I begged these people when her girlfriend hit me over the head with a cast iron frying pan and I told my mother I couldn't live like that. Either she left or I would. My mother told me, a daughter of 15, to have a nice life, so I moved. It took 3 years and the girlfriend being gone before my mother would speak to me. And who's fault was it? You guessed it, the girlfriends.

Still I weep for the mother I never had. The father I never knew and the Grandmother I have not seen because it hurts. I just want to have 15 minutes of a normal childhood. The things most people take for granted. Now I have a son I adore and a husband who is so good to me. The last thing I want is for that to be destroyed by the chaos that would begin if she were in my life.

I feel so horrible about not talking to her. The thought of hurting someone else tears me apart but the peace I feel is good. It only comes to surface when she calls. My father said I should make peace or I will regret it when she's dead. He is the last person I expected to say that about her but that is the type of person he is. It's always so hard.

A New Year

Sister was in town for 5 days. This was the one pic that we took during that time together. Spent New Years Day taking her to Clark Street and Belmont to see the sites. It was a whole Yin and Yang thing in the Alley. She was into the incense and holistic stuff, I was and still am a Headbanger. Adored seeing the Sex Pistols lunch box. Almost bought it for the boy but knew he'd get in trouble at the religious school for it.

3 more days till work begins again. Just hope the blood pressure can maintain. It's been alright so far. That is after 6 different meds. They'll probably change it tomorrow at my appointment.

I sure have missed my fellow faculty members. We all needed a break from the school but it will feel nice to be part of a team again.

A Quiet Moment

My pc caught a virus and I have been off line for the past week and a half. It took all of that time to move files, reformat the hard drive, and re-install the operating system. Finally the old girl is up and running. Still missing some drivers for audio but I can live with that.

On top of that I have had a visitor for the past 4 days I have had a visitor, my sister from Virginia. We spent New Years Eve in the hospital. She is fine but when it comes to health you can never take chances.

I am trying so hard to get back to some sense of normal here. She is leaving tomorrow morning so at least the boy will get his bed back. I know it's hard having guests. She'd offered to sleep on the couch but she sleeps late and it puts everything on hold.

Good news is, after trying 6 different medications from the doctor and increasing the dosage several times, my blood pressure was 128/85 last night. It felt pretty good to have it look normal. Now if I can keep it that way I'll be in pretty good shape.

I was looking over my Goals list for 2006 and am happy to say that out of the 25 things I had on the list I completed 9. I wish it could have been more. I'm still torn if I should count #1 on my list. Find a job I love. See, I love teaching but I do not have a job I love. I love my students but I have no benefits, the salary is very low compared with public schools, and the hours of time in the building are longer than required by public schools. I already get to work at 7 am but they require you to stay till 3 everyday. So, does it count if I love what I do but not where I do it?

My biggest success from the list was creating a savings box. I made a box with a small slit in it and sealed it. I vowed to put in a dollar a day for the whole year of 2006. I would also throw in pocket change and an extra dollar or 2 every once and a while. I finally opened the box yesterday and was amazed that I had over $600 in the box! It was so hard not to open it for the whole year but I was sure glad I didn't. I am so proud of myself. Of course the tellers at the bank today will not be so happy to see me walk in today, especially with $12 worth of pennies.

2006 was not a great year but it sure could have been a hell of a lot worse.