Category Archives: Musings and Mindspills: Ideas Rattling Around In My Head

What’s New???

With 11 class days remaining to the school year, I am surprisingly energetic.  I say, surprisingly, because I am usually dragging my butt.  However, I have changed my diet, which seems to be reaping benefits physically, emotionally, and mentally.  Having osteoarthritis of both knees, my orthopedic specialist is constantly on my back about my weight.  My most recent follow up visit led me to take my doc’s words to heart.  I began by changing my eating habits during lunch, which led me to this blog.  It’s been a transformative experience.  So much so, that I began to cook in earnest, which led to the need to purchase real food. Consequently, I am no longer eating  the processed, packaged frozen stuff I had been eating in over abundance.   A dear friend who is also a professional cook told me, “What you can buy you can cook.”  So, I cook breakfast and dinner, and eat salads at lunch.  I also begin dinner with a small salad. Not only am I eating better, I have also developed a more positive relationship with food.  I was often so hungry between meals, my snacking was out-of-control; it scared me.  Additionally, my dinner meals left me unsatisfied, leading me to eat two desserts, and snack late at night, or early in the morning.

Once I changed my patterns and habits of eating, I realized that my carb-heavy diet led me to crave carbs even more.  What I needed instead was to consume protein at every meal, including breakfast.  I’ve also ramped up my water intake significantly.  I strive to consume one bottle of water before breakfast and lunch.

In addition to a new and improved diet, I’ve tried different activities in the classroom, and have met with great success. I’ll write more about them in an upcoming post.

Baggage

A long-time neighbor recently relocated permanently to Florida. I suppose news of her moving should not have come as quite a shock and a surprise: As a person in her early 80s with health and slight mobility issues, she mentioned as much last fall just prior to leaving for the winter months.   She stated that she wasn’t sure just how much longer she could continue going back and forth between Florida and Connecticut.  But it was a shock and a surprise.  Particularly in the way in which I was informed, and the events which followed.

About two weeks ago, I arrived home one Friday afternoon to discover my long-time neighbor who lived in the apartment directly across the hall from me, rummaging around in her rented storage closet.  I called her name, to which she responded with a slightly aggravated tone, “What?”. I was somewhat taken aback, not only by the tone, but, by the fact that she didn’t seem to recognize my voice.  Shock and Surprise Number One. In any event, I approached my neighbor, gave her a warm and affectionate hug, and asked her how she was doing. Having gotten past all of the pleasantries, I asked her what she was doing, to which she exclaimed, “I’m moving!” Naturally I asked to where, to which my neighbor responded, “Florida.”  Shock and Surprise Number Two. She then went on to say that she didn’t have anyone’s telephone number. Really? She and I made sure we had each other’s numbers every fall before she departed.  Shock and Surprise Number Three.  If each of the previous three shock and surprises weren’t enough, my neighbor delivered the coup de grace: She had returned on Tuesday of that same week, and was scheduled to move on the following Tuesday.  Shock and Surprise Number Four.  After a few more minutes of casual, albeit superficial conversation, I said good evening, to which my neighbor responded, “The door will be open, stop in.”

Huh? What?

I thought that for the past six years, we had been closer neighbors.  We shared meals in favorite restaurants, conversations on all sorts of topics in her apartment over wine and cheese, and phone calls about the goings-on of other neighbors.  I enjoyed her company.  But, given all that I had experienced in front of my neighbor’s rented storage closet, I was not only shocked and surprised, but also hurt.  For the remainder of my neighbor’s stay, I gave her the space she needed.  I had considered for a fleeting moment to knock on her door and offer to help her pack. However, I couldn’t get past the hurt.  Besides, she had her best friend there all weekend, helping her to do what she needed in order to move.

The following Monday, I wrote my neighbor a farewell note.  It was upbeat for the most part: I recall the good times we had had, and, my well wishes for her move.  I did, however, mention my hurt at the news, and the way in which she conveyed it to me. I also mentioned that she probably had her reasons for what she did, and therefore, decided to give her the space I thought she needed. I placed the note in an envelope, and stuck it in her door. That was that.

The next morning – Tuesday – the moving van arrived at 7:30 a.m.  By the time I arrived home at 5:30 p.m.  neighbor was gone. In a strange sort of way, I was relieved; the drama of having her across the hall, but feeling completely invisible, was over. I said a prayer for my neighbor, asking the Lord to keep her in his care.  I suppose the prayer was as much for me as it was for her, perhaps even more so for me.  A friend once told me many years ago that the prayers we say for those who have hurt us in some way is really for us and for our own healing, peace and comfort.

I shared my feelings with my Dear Mother and my Dear Brother. My Dear Mother stated that people often carry baggage with which they hurt others, leaving the others to wonder what happened.  My Dear Brother said that there was probably much more going on than my neighbor wished to share with me.  Additionally, perhaps she didn’t want to leave, but had to leave, and didn’t quite know how to say good-bye.  That being said, my Dear Brother added that sharing her true feelings wasn’t one of my neighbors fears.  My Dear Brother reassured me that her behavior towards me in her final hours in her apartment was not about me.

 

In a Reflective Groove

I recently celebrated my 48th birthday.  Yippee!!! Now, many women would not hazard to make a public pronouncement such as the aforementioned. However, I feel truly blessed for each year the Good Lord grants me on Earth.  So, there…I said it…I’m 48!

It’s funny; each birth year brings new gifts.  For example, in my search for ways to make lunch and dinner salads more balanced, nutritious and not-boring, I was blessed to stumble upon a wonderful blog.  Not only did I achieve my initial goal, but I also have discovered a new way to eat in order to lose some weight, and, more important, to become healthier in the process.

I am also blessed with wonderful friends who are suggesting that it’s time to move on from my present place of employ, and to place myself on a tw0-year career plan.  I am seeking a leadership position which will allow me to remain in the classroom.  While teachers are certainly leaders in their own right, I want to parlay my strong skills in pedagogy, and lead a school’s academic program.

Last, and speaking about my place of employ, I am learning to focus less on the parts over which I have no real control – my colleagues, the leadership of the school, and the day-to-day administrative sloppiness – all of which used to lead to a truck-load of frustration for me – and more on the parts over which I do, which is, my teaching. I communicate via email with colleagues only when they communicate with me, or, when I need something, which isn’t very often.  Additionally, I have created alternative lunch spaces for myself.  I do eat one to three times in the dining room with colleagues, but, on the days I don’t I eat in my classroom, and I’m fine with that.  It provides a quiet place to decompress, and to ready myself for my next class.

So, that’s where I am.

Not doin’ it for you no mo’

There’s nothing I look forward to more than Black History Month. In fact, I look forward to Black History Month with the same anticipation and joy as my own birthday. For the past three years, I have attempted to share that joy with my colleagues. In 2010, I posted a “Black History Fact of the Day”, for 28 consecutive days. In 2011, I posted a “Black History Month Reading List”, which highlighted books by and about Black Americans, citing their achievements in the arts, politics, education, math and science, the military, and sports. In 2012, I created a Multicultural Resource website for the use of the teaching faculty.

A few folks remarked positively about the Black Facts and the reading list. On the other hand, only one teacher has used the Multicultural Resource website. By the way: I invited colleagues to pass along books for the reading list, and to add/share resources for the website. NO JUICE.

So, this year, my colleagues will have to celebrate Black History Month without my help. As a result, it will be far more enjoyable for me.

Why I’m not participating on my school’s diversity committee

If you asked me five years ago, I would be been as happy as a pig in the sunshine to participate. Fast-forward five years, to today, my answer is NO. Here’s why:

1. Too much unexamined racism – both personal and institutional
2. Too much token diversity programming versus making changes to teaching and learning. But, that would require doing Number One.
3. The psychosis of race is too deep to expect the leadership to have a Come to Jesus moment and wipe the slate clean.

I’ve struggled for years and years, without any support or recognition, to bring my school to a new phase in their diversity journey, and to what end?

Too many independent schools are stuck in a diversity time warp 20 years out-of-date. School leaders still think that affinity groups, multicultural assessments, and diversity committees will solve their diversity problems when in reality what is needed is:

1. An examination and eradication of White Privilege; and
2. Culturally Responsive Pedagogy, which focuses on good teaching and quality relationships between students and teachers.

So, there it is. Instead of becoming angry, frustrated, and emotionally drained, I will focus my time and energy on my family, friends, self and classroom.

2012 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 4,500 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 8 years to get that many views.

Click here to see the complete report.

Working to Stay Off the Grid, Part Two

In my continuing effort to fly low under the proverbial radar, this is da bomb!

I was tempted to post in the Faculty Lounge – for about a hot minute.  However, I reminded myself that I’m letting my colleagues put their own work in.  I’m on permanent hiatus from doing the work for them.  Instead, I’ll post it near my desk, as a personal reminder/enforcer for me.

American Ignorance on Steroids

imagesLast Friday afternoon was my bi-weekly manicure appointment, and should have marked the end of a challenging but good week, and the beginning of a ten-day Christmas vacation.  However, I had to do battle with a most ignorant woman who was grossly misinformed on so many aspects of American history.

Unfortunately, this woman is typical of the American citizenry: neither well-read nor well-educated, much of what she does know is based on stereotypes and miseducation passed down in her family, and has lived a pretty isolated existence.  Her “knowledge” of Others is superficial.

As my nails dried under the nail dryer, and as the woman in question was receiving a pedicure – we share the same aesthetician, who, by the way, is a LOVE, it began.  First, the woman in question said something re: the holidays, eating too much, and needing to watch her diet.  Then, she mentioned something re: how her husband brings the leftovers from home, and deposits them in the teachers’ lounge.  She seemed proud of the fact that her husband does this.  I remarked that the amount of food in the teachers’ lounge is out-of-control, that teachers need to monitor their intake, and that the eating is spurred by stress.  I remarked further that teachers experience LOTS of stress.  Moreover, unless one knows a teacher on a personal level, they have NO IDEA as to how stressful the work is.  The woman in question then said something re: how teachers drink a lot as well.  I reminded her of the stress component to teaching, and, that, I myself, am a teetotaler.  She then said something re: teachers have a tough job – especially today.  That led to remarks from her re: Sandy Hook/Newtown, Adam Lanza, guns and gun control.  She didn’t know how Nancy Lanza, Adam Lanza’s mother, was allowed to own an assault weapon. Apparently, this woman has not read the CT gun laws. Thus the reason Nancy Lanza was able to purchase them, and legally. In fact, I can walk in to my local neighborhood Cabella’s and purchase the guns that Adam Lanza used in his murder-suicide rampage.

I remarked that the United States culture has a strange fetish with guns, and that the very nature of the country’s genesis and history have been largely rooted in violence, i.e. atrocities committed against American Indians and African Americans.  The woman in question disagreed, although was unable to say why.  She then said that American Indians perpetrated violence, which, in her mind, seemed to justify the violence perpetrated against them – a typical response. We then arrived at the S word: slavery.   The woman in question said that slavery existed everywhere.  Of course it did. And, still does, in many places.  However, what made American slavery unique was it was based on the importation of people who were deemed less than human, for the sole purpose of free labor, i.e. chattel slavery. This in turn made the United States very wealthy in a very short period of time and very early in its history.   The woman in question then said: “Slaves sold slaves”.  Huh?!? What?!? Those two things don’t even go together.  First, slaves weren’t  American citizens. Rather, they were counted as 3/5 for voting representation purposes.  As a result, slaves weren’t allowed to own property.  Think about it: If it were illegal for African slaves to read, then how in  Hell could they own property?!?  The woman in question was correct about one thing: African chieftains sold Africans to the White slave traders. However, she didn’t seem to understand why: They were war captives of war. As a means of depleting the enemy, African chieftains sold their captives to the White slave traders.

The slaves sold slaves comment was fascinating. So much so, I asked the woman in question to cite her source.  Of course, she couldn’t remember.  They never can.  At that point, she gave up the fight.  But, before completely giving it up, she added the atrocities committed by Saddam Hussein and the Holocaust.  We won’t even go there, except to say that the woman in question was ignorant and grossly misinformed on these issues as well.

Unfortunately, I have met and know people like this woman.  It makes me woefully sad that Americans have such a pitiful understanding of their own history. In fact, it’s embarrassing when people from so-called Third World countries not only know their history, but also ours, to the point that they are able to talk proverbial circles around us.

As I got up to leave before the woman in question did, she said, “Enjoy your holidays.” I responded, “You, too”, and departed, shaking my head.

When Inclusiveness Backfires

For the past two years, I have boycotted the People of Color Conference (PoCC), sponsored by the National Association of Independent Schools (N.A.I.S.).  Historically, the conference began as a place and a space for African American teachers and administrators in independent schools to get nurtured, supported, and re-directed in their work as people of color in independent schools. Over the years, however, the PoCC has moved away from its original intent and mission to become more inclusive.  So much so, that, at least for me, supporting and nurturing African American teachers and administrators is no longer the priority.  In fact, it’s more like one, big, two-day diversity 101 conference, and therefore, in my opinion, should no longer be called the PoCC. It should be called, “The Diversity 101 Conference.”

What has occurred to the PoCC is indicative of what happens when an organization, or, in this case, a conference, attempts to become all things to all people.  Everyone gets served, and then nobody gets served.  It seems that in its attempt to become the proverbial all things to all people, the group that the PoCC was originally created to serve has increasingly received the least benefit over the course of the past ten or so years, despite its efforts to return to its original mission and intent.  Once the African American baby was thrown out with the bath water, it signaled the death of a conference by us and for us.

While generalized diversity 101 conferences are important and necessary for a myriad of reasons, I regret that this fate has befallen the PoCC.  Unlike many of my POC workplace colleagues, I remember the PoCC before its diversity 101 conversion.  Which is perhaps an indication that we as African American teachers and administrators need to continue carving out places and spaces for our own support, uplift and advancement, because, corporate entities like N.A.I.S. aren’t going to do it for us.

Teaching, and So Much More

There are many thoughts filling my head at the moment. However, the thought which is foremost is about the recent parent-teacher conferences. Each year, parent-teacher conferences occupy approximately one and a half-days of 13-minute slots.  Day One consists of a half-day of classes, lunch, and then six hours of parent-teacher conferences.  Day Two consists of nine hours of parent-teacher conferences.  To say that I was tired when the entire process had concluded would be a proverbial understatement.  That said, perhaps for the first time in eight years at my current place of employ, and, in fact, for the first time in my almost-nineteen years of teaching, I felt: 1.  Confident;  and  2. Well-prepared and well-rested.   I cannot place the proverbial finger on either of the aforementioned.  Except to say that key stressors that have existed in the past were strangely albeit pleasantly absent. I won’t waste the writing space mentioning them.  However, I will say that I have let go many things about which I worried far too much in the past.

My parent-teacher conferences were grounded in what another teacher called, the sandwich approach, which is: something positive, something which needs work, and then something positive.  Perhaps my approach was more like an open-face sandwich: Something positive, something which needs work, and then strategies for how to improve. The aforementioned approach seemed to work for the parents with whom I spoke. It gave them meaningful and applicable ways to assist their children. As I said to the parents, it’s not all about the content that I teach.  It’s also about teaching the kids how to learn, and, about getting them ready for life.

I posted the following on Facebook on last Friday.  I think it’s a nice way to conclude this post:

“Perhaps I have arrived to the proverbial game late.  However, teaching is one-third content, one-third study skills, and one-third life skills.”