Detour

Well, I have been Getting My Ass Handed To Me by departments of teacher certification in both Arizona and Massachusetts. The fact that I barely know how to spell Massachusetts, as indicated by the red line under my multiple tries, is perhaps the Universe's way of telling me that I shouldn't move there. I'm only joking when I say this, as MA DOES have this much going for it: the folks at the MDE don't yell at quite the decibel level that the folks at the ADE do.

Now, my time in Asia has taught me to go with the flow, that worrying is futile, and the only thing created by worrying is lines in one's forehead. I've learned how to have faith and know that everything always works out as it should. SO....to that effect, while my career may be veering frighteningly off course at breakneck speed for the time being, I have compiled a list of other possible professions that I can explore during this time of temporary road blocks:

-Beekeeper
-Telemarketer
-Burlesque dancer (not to be confused with stripper)
-Elevator operator
-One of the lost cosmonauts
-A participant in the wife carrying contest

By the way, the fact that the U.S. does not have universal teacher certification from state to state is an absolute crime. And California???? Don't get me started on California. I don't know who California thinks it is. No one is apparently good enough for it. It's sitting there on its west coast perch all, "Ooooo, just LOOK at my beautiful, frothy, glistening shoreline and abundant population of English language learners (I mention this because working with ELLs is my area of expertise and true passion in life). You wanna come here and teach?? Suck my redwoods, biatch!"

Forgive me. I worked for almost 13 hours today, and it is quite possible that the beer I smelled earlier in the lobby of my condo has actually succeeded in getting me drunk.

Any career suggestions/magic wands for making certificates appear out of thin air/talismans (talismans or talismen?? Doesn't it seem like it should be the latter?) for warding off evil department of education spirits would be greatly appreciated.

I'm gonna go sleep it off.

Renovations

"Miss Brooke 29."

"Yes, that's right! I'm 29. You are four."

"When Miss Brooke 27, I two."

Kids just never freakin' cease to amaze me. Especially at this age when you can literally HEAR the synapses popping and the dendrites forming. The fact that this little kiddo was able to figure out both of our ages two years ago and compare them sent me into total shock. Another student that same day suddenly became fully switched on to how rhyming words work and now thinks that it is terribly funny to wander around the classroom, making up all kinds of rhymes:

"Miss Brooke! Play dough, say dough, may dough, tray dough!"

"Very good! Now it's time to put the play dough away and get ready for snack!"

"Snack, pack, track, dack, quack, sack....."

I have another student who is only going to be in my class for a few weeks while his Thai school is on summer break. Both of his parents were killed in the tsunami, and he was found on a beach when he was seven months old. He was then adopted and named by, oh, let's just say a Very Important Family here in Thailand. He is devastatingly sweet and has these wide, wizened eyes. He prefers to observe our morning circle time from under the safe haven of the art table, but every once in awhile he will emerge, curl up next to me, and look up at me with an expression that is equally hopeful and quizzical. And then I have to resist the urge to unhinge my jaw and swallow him whole, because, OMG what a delicious little soul.

The other day he picked up one of my "letter of the week" cards, stared at it for a little while, and then looked over at our alphabet wall. His wide eyes got even wider as he spotted the same letter on the wall. He practically sprinted over to it, pointed to the card, pointed to its equivalent on the wall, and looked at me with surprise. He then proceeded to find the letter in other places: in his fellow classmates' names, in the poem that was hanging on my teaching easel, in the titles of books in the reading corner. And every time he showed me where this letter was hiding, it was as if he was letting me in on a great secret.

The days lately have been these long, breezy, humid stretches of perfect ease. There is still hard work, there is still the occasional difficult moment, but mostly it's been peaceful and, dare I say it, blissful. Bangkok has taken its nonchalant scalpel, carved around my Worry Tumor that has been there since, um, birth (remember the Worry Tumor?), and ground it into a material of substance that can be actually useful to me. Which is not to say that the process of carving was not painful or full of all kinds of sharp, throbbing aches. I sometimes think that the brain has to sear itself in order to rewire itself. Any renovation involves destruction, tearing, severing, demolishing.

And while I've been putting the finishing touches on my own internal renovations, my students have wedged their tiny little feet into the door of literacy, and these small moments of recognition, of emerging ownership over this vast and crucial expanse of the written word, have become huge and important fanfares of purpose for me and my students alike. We are temporarily bound together in the long and important journey of lifelong learning, and holy crap will I miss them when our time together is over.

In other news, what I feel has been noticeably absent from my blog postings is the little detail about getting two hour massages twice a week (and, um, sometimes more), and fabulous mani-pedis once a month. And eating out every day. These are luxuries that I will surely not be able to afford once I'm back in the U.S., and their impact on my life should by no means be underestimated.

So, um, I'm off to get a massage, and I will be sure to instruct the masseuse to pay extra attention to the area where the Worry Tumor used to be :)

Happy Day!

So here's what happened this morning:

My employers sat me down and told me that they will now be taking 3,000 baht LESS per month out of my paycheck for taxes. They also said that they will be paying the RIDICULOUSLY HIGH fees that the condo charges per month, thereby reducing my monthly utility bill by 5,000 baht per month. They also gave me a bunch of snacks because they don't think I eat enough.

So let's recap:

*I get to keep 8,000 more baht per month (or about $260)
*They gave me snacks

I was waiting for them to trot out a brand new pony for me, because that's the only way that the morning would have gotten more awesome, but alas, that may have to wait until Christmas.

All I had for them was a Power Point presentation, but they practically wept with joy when it was over.

I'm not even all that good at Power Point.

I can definitely say that things have turned a (very large, very scary) corner with my employers, and we are living in our own happy little world. There are animated bluebirds that sit on my shoulder all day long, and the flowers in the (rather ample) garden actually sing to me. This has been a loooooooong time coming, and a lot of sweat and tears had to pour forth from my overachieving little body before we could get to this point. I wish I had one baht for every time I thought about running away. I'd probably have 8,000 baht by now.

Oh, wait!! I do!!!!!!!

Honestly, though, it's not about the money or the snacks. It's about a rather solid level of mutual respect and understanding that will give us the footing to move forward and create something wonderful for the kids. And I never thought we'd get here.

Let this be a lesson to you, kids: patience, persistence, the ability to suspend all common sense and dive into the shallow end (spinal cord injuries, be damned!!!!), and a touch of workaholism actually DO pay off.

In all seriousness, though, I'm really excited. I know the next year is going to fly by all too quickly.

A conversation and subsequent thoughts....

I had this conversation with one of my students today. I wish I could reveal his real name, as it is Super Awesome and I fully plan to put it in the running for the Baby Names Campaign (if and when I ever decide to finally settle down and let my uterus start calling the shots (Mom, Dad, I can FEEL you cringing from here)).

I digress.....

Allow me to first put it in context: the kiddos were working on a mini-project and I told them that they had four minutes left until we came back together for a group discussion. N. (age 8) gave a Scarlett O'Hara-eque sigh and the conversation proceeded from there:

Me: What's wrong?! Will four minutes not be enough time for you?
N.: No, it's not enough time. What is the maximum amount of time that you can give us?
Me: Um, I think maybe five minutes.
N.: Actually, the maximum amount of time that you would be able to give is infinity minutes.
Me: Well, in theory, yes.
N.: And the minimum amount of time would be point-infinity-zeros-one second. Um, one infinitieth of a second.
Me: That's much faster than we can blink or breathe or even think.
N.: Is infinity an even number or an odd number?
Me: Well, let's think of the number 5,018,903. Is that number odd or even?
N.: Odd.
Me: How do you know?
N.: You can look at the ones place.
Me: Well, since infinity goes on forever, it doesn't stop long enough to HAVE a ones place.
N.: So infinity can be BOTH even AND odd*.
[thoughtful pause, proceeds with coloring]
So it's both at the same time.
[thoughtful pause]
And it's neither at the same time.
Me: Wow, N. That's deep!
N.: Yes. I can be pretty deep sometimes.

We then calculated how many seconds are in a week, how many minutes are in a year (um, I knew that one off of the top of my head because I am a big, humongous Rent fan), and how many seconds are in a millennium. We also talked about they meanings of dec, cent, and milli as used in the words decade, century, and millennium. His mathematical curiosity sated for another day, he turned back to his mini-project.

N.: [Drawing a rabbit on his paper] Rabbits eat their own poop.

Never a dull moment.

*Alright, attention Math Nerds: I did a little bit of research on this topic after the conversation to make sure that I, y'know, did not pollute an Impressionable Young Mind by allowing him to think something that is erroneous. Infinity is definitely a very--dare I say it--spiritual concept. As one math nerd stated: "infinity is not a number, but a state..." Dude. It is therefore impossible to attempt to categorize it in any sort of manner, as it is outside of the realm of definition that language can give to fathomable concepts. However, another math nerd (on the same forum) was quite clear in stating that, while infinity is neither even nor odd, it certainly CAN'T be both at the same time, as even and odd are "mutually exclusive" descriptions. Some other websites seem to disagree with this statement by providing the explanation that if it is neither, it is also both**. Double dude. I am NOT a math person by any means. I DO, however, enjoy provocative (if a bit dorky) questions, especially when they are posed by eight-year-olds. Anyone care to tackle this one?? I've got my pocket protector ready.....

**Just a question: If something TRANSCENDS a certain boundary or definition (as infinity transcends odd and even), does it necessarily ENCOMPASS it as well?? Something that is transcendent is, by definition, BEYOND any sort of conceptualization or simple dyadic explanation (in other words, it is not something that can be defined by what it IS in part by stating what it IS NOT). At the same time, though, while infinity is neither odd nor even, isn't it also a manifestation of both? Or are the terms "odd" and "even" so rigid that they can only define a number whose boundary is completely firm, and therefore cannot be united in a single definition of "both"?? I have a headache....

Maybe N. will know the answer?

The Teacher's (ridiculously long) Manifesto

(I would like to dedicate this post to the indefatigable Kitty Boles, who is the kind of teacher, and cheerleader for teachers, that I strive to be)

Alrighty.....I had a post planned all about the Perfume Pagoda--and the unbearably beautiful journey that I took to get there (look at all of the pictures on the website that I linked. It will give you a very small idea of how beautiful it all was)--but instead I think I need to take a minute and write a few words in defense of my profession.

So recently I've been spending a lot of time thinking about what my next step should be after my time in Thailand is over. I am currently in sort of a "hybrid role" as an administrator and a teacher--that is, I am simultaneously developing the curriculum AND implementing it. It has been a tremendous experience, and I am definitely in love with curriculum development and the research that it entails. My inner nerd does a happy dance every time I print out a scholarly article on emergent curriculum or vocabulary or motivation. I am now cultivating new skills and knowledge which, combined with a fancy shmancy degree, means that I should technically be able to go out and really Do Some Awesome Things. Some things that flash through my mind are working for NGOs and curriculum companies and creating ways to mobilize resources in order to foster literacy worldwide.

But, at the end of the day, all I want to do is TEACH. It's my love, my passion, my calling. And this is going to sound completely crazy, but there is a small part of me that feels a little guilty admitting that.

Now, sure, there are those wonderful voices who say that teaching is such an honorable profession, and that we are an underappreciated lot, and that we are heroes, and we make a real difference. And a big, thunderous applause and adamant thanks to those voices from me! However, sadly, there are certain realities about this profession--and the way it is perceived by American society (I say American because, hell, teachers are REVERED here in Thailand)--that also incite a chorus of negative voices.

Without reiterating the entirety of my Teachers, Leadership, and Power course that I took in grad school (and which unquestionably changed my life), and without sounding like I am slandering the profession that I love more than anything, I just want to point out some of these realities. First of all, teaching is a flat career. By and large your job description on the first day does not vary greatly on the last day. There is no career ladder, and certainly the top undergraduates in the country are not going into teaching (unless, of course, they choose to participate in Teach For America, as I did (and it is an experience which I cannot recommend highly enough). However, the sad reality is that most of these talented individuals go on to something "bigger," like law school or business school or medical school). The pay and the prestige are both meager, and it is not a job that is synonymous with intellectual prowess. It's not a job that individuals have if they are serious about having an Important Career.

During my second year of Teach For America (before I was completely certain that I was going to be in this field for the rest of my life....hell, journalism was looking mighty appealing!!), I had a meeting with one of a zillion educational consultants that had come to my school--a school that was failing abysmally, and which TFA eventually pulled out of like that last helicopter on the Embassy roof in Saigon. I had a long and thoughtful conversation with this woman who had spent 25 years in the classroom. At the end of it, she looked at me over the top of her bifocals (um, I seriously hope I don't ever wear bifocals, even after 25 years in the classroom) with all of the wisdom of a seasoned veteran, and said these words that have been forever seared into my brain:

"You're too smart to be a teacher."

And she would not be the last person to say that to me. Even my coworkers at my last school didn't understand why I would want to waste my time and money going to Harvard for grad school when I could get a perfectly good degree at Arizona State for, like, an 80th of the price. "What's the point?? It's not like you're going to get paid more just because your degree is from Harvard!" What they seemed to be asking, though, is why I would want to go to such a prestigious school for such a seemingly insignificant degree. And, to be honest, HGSE does seem to be the ugly stepsister of the rest of Harvard's schools. It is definitely on the bottom rung in terms of funding, and one only has to compare the restrooms in the Ed School to those at Harvard Business School (with their marble floors and neatly arranged baskets of tampons and toilets that actually FLUSH) to see how wide the spectrum really is (I'm sorry if I sound like I'm hating.....I'm really not. The time I spent at HGSE was the most incredible time of my entire life. It is a simultaneously grueling and supportive environment, and I frequently find myself longing for it again).

BUT. But but but.......

It wasn't until I began this administrative work that I realized how important the profession of teaching really is, and how it is so incredibly unfortunate that there seems to be an overwhelming misconception that the only real change in education can occur OUTSIDE of the classroom. A friend of mine in grad school was leaving the classroom to go into policy because she didn't think that the teaching profession had a big enough impact. And I see her point: While you most certainly impact one classroom full of children each year, you are not necessarily making a systemic change on a large scale. I also found it interesting that most people in the policy programs at Harvard (people who are brilliant and dedicated and will create tremendous change) had never set foot in the classroom. Don't get me wrong: each and every one of them will make a valuable contribution to the field. I just worry because, in this day and age of horrific educational policy, there is a large and hideous disconnect between policy and practice. And, for various reasons, the practice is not the place in education where the prestige is and where the real power seems to be. However, for me, as a teacher, I have a hard time stomaching the things that policymakers say that teachers "should" be doing and "aren't doing well enough" when they have no real understanding of the realities of daily life in schools and classrooms, and the tremendous obstacles that teachers must overcome each day in order to get the job done.

And, when it comes right down to it, you can create all of the policies that you want. You can secure gobs of funding, and mobilize resources, and teacher-proof the curriculum, and create hundreds of standardized tests, and create school labels, and raise salaries (hell, I sure wouldn't complain!!), and point fingers, and analyze data. But it ultimately comes down to the kids and student achievement. And if a teacher isn't ready, willing, or able, then it just Ain't Gonna Happen. The biggest form of power that teachers have is our veto power. This is all at once a wonderful and terrible fact of the profession: At the end of the day, teachers are going to close their doors and do what they're gonna do, for better or worse. And yes, I admit it, there are a lot of horrifically BAD teachers out there who are completely bitter and not at all dedicated. I'm certainly not trying to glorify all teachers everywhere, though I do think the nature of the profession, and the formidable environments that schools can be, certainly has a rather large role in creating bitter teachers. I just think it's sad that this profession does not attract the talent that it needs and deserves. People who, in the words of Joe Dirt, have "YES" in their hearts.

Well, I sure do have a resounding YES in my heart. And while I may always hear "Oh, isn't that cute!!" whenever I tell people I'm an elementary school teacher (combined with a lollipop and pat on the head....yeah, my friend who's a high powered attorney in Minneapolis sure does not get that response when she tells people what she does for a living), well, grad school was a breeze compared to the real, raw intellectual challenges that this profession presents on a daily basis. Granted, you may not believe me if you saw me in my Miss Magic Math costume, or playing a word game with Pinky the Phonics Puppet, but it's true. The best part of going to professional development workshops, and forming "think tanks" with other teachers, and doing lots of research is knowing that that knowledge is going to have a direct and tangible impact on the lives of students. And it's exciting that teaching is such a powerful vehicle for learning. And, y'know, there's just nothing like going to bed at night knowing that, after a long struggle, Juan successfully sounded out a word today.

Man....I LOVE this job.

So I guess my hope is that the next time I'm coloring a poetry chart, or practicing my "parts of a friendly letter dance," and my negative inner voice rears its ugly head ("You went to Harvard for this?? For THIS?!?!?!"), my inner teacher will send it to the Thinking Chair.

Oh, and if you can read this, thank a teacher!!
(Sorry....I couldn't resist :) )

Perhaps the most interesting excuse I've ever heard....

D.'s mom (D., by the way, being the YUMMIEST child in the entire universe--save for OlderNiece L. and YoungerNiece C.--and I very often have to remind myself that it would be highly unprofessional to try and eat him like the sweet little cupcake that he is) when she came to pick him up yesterday:

Miss Brooke! I'm so sorry I'm late! I have diarrhea!!

I think she took the words right out of Sarah Silverman's mouth.

When I taught in the U.S. I heard a lot of excuses for parental lateness (just got out of jail....long line at the welfare office....fell asleep by accident after working three different jobs in order to try to put food on the table), and some of them were downright heartbreaking. This was a first for the diarrhea, and dare I say it was slightly, you know, refreshing.