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?