One more week and I will be in Michigan! I am excited, although I will be spending as little time as possible outside - my mom accused me of going soft but let me tell you I have always been cold, heck I get cold on Arizona. Last night was the light parade here, it was fun to stand outside and watch all the Christmas lights without freezing your toush off:-)
Today I am working getting things around to go home, this week is going to go fast! The kids are revolting already, most of them misbehave because they do not look forward to these breaks and this one is three weeks. One of my students was suspended yesterday, I know big surprise. Apparently he has been playing with a lighter and spray cologne during my advisory period. One of my other students turned him in anonymously. I felt like a fool when my boss told me, here this has been going on and I had no idea. Thankfully she didn't blame me but I still felt like an idiot and he is in so much trouble when he gets off suspension. The rest of the students are just nutty anyway so I am hoping we can be a little successful this week and learn 1 or 2 things. Right now I am filling Mary Kay orders to send out, let me know if you need anything!

Today was the student vs. staff basketball game. It was great, I even made a basket! The kids had such a good time and we all got out of class for the morning. On another bright note my cel phone was returned, I am glad and keeping it in a much safer spot now. It is truly hard to believe that 12 year olds can be that malicious.
Anywho, I have gone through this mail process to have my mail stopped while I am out of town for Christmas. I have little faith that this will actually work since the donkey's who deliver mail cannot read but hey, it is worth a shot. I have a real problem with the USPS, they are not into customer service at all. For instance I recieved a postcard from the post here in Yuma saying that are staying open late so that people can come in at thier own convience during this busy time of year. The postcard then had the "new" times that they would be open, except that there were no new times, the hours have not been extended at all, this is just one nore reason to go postal :-)

So in order to understand this tale of the seventh grade teacher you have to know that I have trouble remembering things. I used to blame it on the medicine but now I just accept it for what it is. Today, toward the ends of 6th period, I had pretty much reached the end of my rope (this happens frequently) and a fellow teacher came in and needed some paperwork. I went to my back counter to help her when this small foreign object wacks me in the boob. This may not seem like a big dea, but please remember that throwing things is something my class has been workign on not doing for quite a few weeks now. So I look at the student whom I think is guilty and tell him to wait for me in the hall. Now, as a rule, we are not supposed to put students in the hall as a punitive thing but occasionally if I need to get ahold of the class I will ask one to wait out there so I can yell at them in private and then class proceeds almost uninterrupted. Today though was a bad memory day. I still have a headache and I was distracted by a colleague and so on and so forth.
The point of this story is that after the other teacher left I remebered that a student was there who had been out for a week and I had a grammar packet to give him. So I find it and give it to him and explain what I want him to do and them like a bolt of electricity I suddenly remember that I sent a student to the hall! So I blurt it out like an idiot that I forgot he was out there. I personally found this hilarious in that innapropriate, I shouldn't be laughing but I can't help it way. So I am standing by the door trying to compose myself to go out and yell and let's be honest, I couldn't remember what he had done. So I go out there and ask him what his excuse was, I tell him to stop throwing things and we move on.
Thankfully it will not scar this particular student for life but I am going to start having the students put a sign on the door or something when they are out in the hallway, so I don't forget them in the future. I was at this class a couple weeks ago and they told me that a teacher makes 5000 decisions a day and that 5 will impact a child for the rest of thier life. That scares me to death and ever since then I have been really weighing the smallest decsions, I think I need to go back to thinking that my decisions don't impact others and that I am only one person so how much damage can my inapropriate laughter cause. At least I will feel better.

I have a new theory, for those of you who are familiar with the postage theory, this is much better! See yesterday I discovered that in Mexico even though there are public bathrooms, they cost 25cents. At first I was like why? and then I go tthinking about it, if the United States had us pay a quarter to use a public toilet we could raise a lot of money (it would also cut down on the amount of change we carry around). This money could be used for many things, eradicating disease, feeding the hungry, giving books to children, making the bathrooms smell better. I don't really care how the money is used but I think this is a valid idea. There is nothing in the Bill of Rights that says we have the right to free toilets wherever we happen to be at that moment. Just something to think about the next time you use a free toilet.

Well, I have been out of commission for a couple days with a nasty migraine. But today I went to Alodonase, Mexico to do some Christmas shopping. I met La guerita and her husband there, they live in Mexico and he cannot come here so I go there to visit. It was fun but thank goodness I was with Spainsh speakers, you get better deals if you speak the language and it is easier to order food.
I would like to tell everyone that I am not sure that lack of border control is the problem that the governement should be worried about. When I came back into California today, I was asked if I was a U.S. citizen and what was in my bags, to which I responded yes and some turtles, a mirror and some jewlery. The nice border patrol agent smiled and said have a nice day. No I.D. check or looking in the bags. Not that I particularly minded the speedy exit but I worry about how easy it is to get in and out of Mexico. Now, this is a particulary touristy area and it was welcome back snowbird day but still, I said I had turtles, how did she know I didn't mean real live, turtles. I just found it strange that La guerita's husband cannot come here but I can walk around with anything I want and no one cares because I said I was a U.S. citizen. I am rethinking my career, maybe I should go back to school and become an immigration attorney or something. Anyway, that's all the computer I can handle for now.

Today started off great, alarm off at 5:30 - major pain in head - back to sleep til 7:10 oops! Got to school on time, La guerita (Co-worker who has never met an El Salvadorian she likes) gave me bunny poster that says I did it, but I am blaming you. The kids now think everything is there fault which is how it should be.
Everything was great for hour 1, seeing as though I had taken vicodin and was feeling invincible. Second hour was crazy, I discovered that 7th graders should not be allowed to do group projects unless it is to create a mime show.
4th and 6th hours were pretty difficult, I was observed for five minutes for this student engagement piece that we have to have as part of our jobs and I didn't do very well because my students were taking a test but alas, on to more important information. A fellow Euorpean (team mate of mine) is having difficulties with her husband and is sick so I listened to her for a while, my rich Italian co-worker's husband came home from deployment so she is incredibly happy!
Then I went to drown my sorrows of not knowing what to do with 12 year olds that won't sit in their seats to La guerita (said co-worker and resident of Mexico) and we had a discussion about horses instead.
Speaking of Mexico - I am going to Algodonase on Saturday. That is a border town with a big market to buy cheap jewelry and such. There are a bunch of us from work going which is good considerign last tiem I was there my friend was almost abducted by a pushy Mexican salesman. So now we are taking big Marines to stave off any unwanted attention.
For those of ypu back home I am going to tell you a story about my drive to work. Everymorning I drive past the fields (I don't know yet what they are growing) and see the white school busses bringing the migrant workers to work. The busses go to the San Luis border and pick them up every morning, it is like a big car pooling thing. The busses have port a potties attached to the back and everything. Anyway, the migrants get off the busses and prepare to work in the fields for the day. Now, being a northener I am not familiar with this and it makes me sad. I am not being uncouth here but it honestly makes me sad that these people do this day in and day out. I did not grow up in a place where this was common. Your parents had a job and they went to it everyday and so on and so forth. So many of my students spend half the year in Yuma and have in California, wherever their parents have work. I am learning more about this and really trying to understand but it still makes me sad every morning. That and the emus cooped up in the small back yard across from Wal-Mart.
On a completely different note, Sarah asked me tonight if using cocaine makes your nose dry and cracked because her nose has been hurting for like a week. After I finished yelling at her she explained that she has a cold and was wondering why anyone would choose to have that happen to their nose. I am not convinced that she doesn't have a habit so if anyone is around her way look for signs and report back.

The Wages of Teaching
By Anna Quindlen
Newsweek
Nov. 28, 2005 issue - A couple of years ago I spent the day at an elementary school in New Jersey. It was a nice average school, a square and solid building with that patented classroom aroma of disinfectant and chalk, chock-full of reasonably well-behaved kids from middle-class families. I handled three classes, and by the time I staggered out the door I wanted to lie down for the rest of the day.
Teaching's the toughest job there is. In his new memoir, "Teacher Man," Frank McCourt recalls telling his students, "Teaching is harder than working on docks and warehouses." Not to mention writing a column. I can stare off into the middle distance with my chin in my hand any time. But you go mentally south for five minutes in front of a class of fifth graders, and you are sunk.
The average new teacher today makes just under $30,000 a year, which may not look too bad for a twentysomething with no mortgage and no kids. But soon enough the newbies realize that they can make more money and not work anywhere near as hard elsewhere. After a lifetime of hearing the old legends about cushy hours and summer vacations, they figure out that early mornings are for students who need extra help, evenings are for test corrections and lesson plans, and weekends and summers are for second and even third jobs to try to pay the bills.
According to the Department of Education, one in every five teachers leaves after the first year, and almost twice as many leave within three. If any business had that rate of turnover, someone would do something smart and strategic to fix it. This isn't any business. It's the most important business around, the gardeners of the landscape of the human race.
Unfortunately, the current fashionable fixes for education take a page directly from the business playbook, and it's a terrible fit. Instead of simply acknowledging that starting salaries are woefully low and committing to increasing them and finding the money for reasonable recurring raises, pols have wasted decades obsessing about something called merit pay. It's a concept that works fine if you're making widgets, but kids aren't widgets, and good teaching isn't an assembly line.
McCourt's book is instructive. Early in his 30-year career, he's teaching at a vocational high school and realizes that his English students are never more inspired than when forging excuse notes from their parents. So McCourt assigns the class to write excuse notes, the results ranging "from a family epidemic of diarrhea to a sixteen-wheeler truck crashing into the house." Pens fly with extravagant lies. You can almost feel the imaginations kick in.
The point about tying teaching salaries to widget standards is that it's hard to figure out a useful way to measure the merit of what a really good teacher does. You can imagine the principal who would see McCourt's gambit as the work of a gifted teacher, and just as easily imagine the one who would find it unseemly. Tying raises to pass rates is a flagrant invitation to inflate student achievement. Tying them to standardized tests makes rote regurgitation the centerpiece of schools. Both are blind to the merit of teachers who shoulder the challenging work of educating those less able, more troubled, from homes where there are no pencils, no books, even no parents. A teacher whose Advanced Placement class sends everyone on to top-tier colleges; a teacher whose remedial-reading class finally gets through to some, but not all, of a student group that is failing. There is merit in both.
The National Education Association has been pushing for a minimum starting salary of $40,000 for all teachers. Why not? If these people can teach 6-year-olds to add and get adolescents to attend to algebra, surely we can do the math to get them a decent wage. Since the corporate world is the greatest, and richest, beneficiary of well-educated workers, maybe a national brain trust might be set up that would turn a tax on corporate profits into an endowment to raise teacher salaries. Maybe states and communities could also pass regulations with this simple proviso: no school administrator should ever receive a percentage raise greater than the raise teachers get. Neither should state legislators.
In recent years teacher salaries have grown, if they've grown at all, at a far slower rate than those of other professionals, often lagging behind inflation. Yet teachers should have the most powerful group of advocates in the nation: not their union, but we the people, their former students. I am a writer because of the encouragement of teachers. Surely most Americans must feel the same, that there were women and men who helped them levitate just a little above the commonplace expectations they had for themselves.
At the end of his book McCourt, who is preparing to leave teaching with the idea of living off his pension and maybe writing—and whose maiden effort, "Angela's Ashes," will win the Pulitzer—is giving advice to a young substitute. "You'll never know what you've done to, or for, the hundreds coming and going," he says. Yeah, but the hundreds know, the hundreds who are millions who are us. They made us. We owe them.
© 2005 Newsweek, Inc.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/10116331/site/newsweek/

I got so much done this weekend and I was feeling pretty good and then this morning I had a panic attack in my closet, God knows why. I was almost late for work but I feel better now. My chicken salad is good, I used spices and everything! I am reading that Anne Lamont book and it is hilarious! I couldn't put it down last night. Also I haven't showered since Saturday, I just keep forgetting, I think Shannon may be right it is the end of the world and we all have lead poisoning! I am actually pretty happy so please do not mistake this as a cry for help. I think I am having an out of body experience! Hope your day is filled with less random thoughts than mine!

Here's how my blog was born!
Angela:
That's interesting, What do people do with anthologies like that though? do they actually read them? or are they dust collectors? Those are questions from Angela, maybe I should start my own radio show or blog!

Sarah:
Check out this link - it'll take you to an article and a slide show about Calvin and Hobbes.
http://www.slate.com/id/2129373/