Mermaid

In class the other day one of my students decided to dance around a bit before getting down to work. As he finally sat down he fell and landed spectacularly on the floor. The class laughed and once I saw he was okay I pretty much ignored it and tried to move along to the next activity.

It seemed a ploy for attention, an idea that wasn't disproved when Jonathan* remained on the floor. I ignored his being on the floor for a while, and then I went over to him and asked him what was going on. He didn't reply so I asked him to write about why he was upset (this works about ninety percent of the time when the student won't respond verbally). He wrote that he was upset because Edwin* (the boy next to him) had pulled his chair out and caused him to fall. I wrote back that I hadn't realized that the chair was pulled out from under him, and it was dangerous and I would speak to Edwin after class. Jonathan continued to frown but acquiesced to my request that he get up off the floor.

I walked away and assumed he had gotten to work until I walked by again and saw that he was busy drawing a telling image- a boy riding a dolphin above the waves. The waves were labeled "piranha tank" and a boy in the water was labeled "Edwin." I smiled and let him keep at it.

Class ended and I went over to where Jonathan and Edwin were sitting. I turned to Edwin and said, "Edwin, you cannot pull chairs out from under people. It is dangerous, someone could get hurt, and it is not respectful. It's not funny when it can really hurt" or something along those typical teacherish lines. Edwin nodded and left.

Class had ended but Jonathan continued sitting and drawing. I came back to Jonathan a couple minutes later and beheld the new, improved version of his piranha tank vision; the tank and Edwin had been erased, and I had entered the picture as a mermaid! It is an ever so accurate depiction of the class, despite the slight misspelling of my name:


*names were changed

Dear President-Elect

Dear President-Elect Obama,

Today I mailed a packet of 65 sixth grade students’ letters, letters filled with introductions, advice and questions for you, the President that will hopefully carry these young students from childhood into adulthood. My students live in the South Bronx, in one of the poorest congressional districts in the country. The majority of them receive free lunch. The letters they have written you are filled with hope for the change you seek to bring to our country. I try to teach my students that their voices are worth being heard. Please read and consider their statements. I think their dreams reflect what many of us across the country want to see. In a selection of their own words:

“My wish came true you became president.” “I am happy because you are the first black man to be a President. And I am sorry because of what happen to your grandmother.” “You are the president that gets to change this world and make it a safer and better place for all of us to live in.” “I hope that you will do a great job fixing all of former President Bush’s mistakes.” “I wanted to work for you but I am only 11.” “I am writing to you to give you my opinion. I have great ideas.”

“I hope that over the next four years you will change the war. I hope the war will end soon. I think that because people are dying for no reason when maybe you just need to sit them down and tell Iraq that we don’t want to fight anymore.”

“Another thing I think you should do is make taxes lower because people spend too much money and barely have any leftover. I think it would help millions of people. Also it would give people a little more money in their pockets and more money to spend on food. Especially when you have a family you need as much money as possible so you can feed everyone’s mouth. I know this because I have a family with one sister, one brother, and a mom and a dad just like you I know you have children and a wife. That’s why I know you understand.”

“You should make a college for poor people so that they can learn.”

“Are you going to put a basketball court in the white house when you move there?”

“You made history from what Mr. Martin Luther King Jr. said, he said “We Shall Overcome” and that’s what you did on Tuesday, you overcame Obama.” “I believe in you and look up to you because you make me think that maybe when I get older I might be able to become the first female president of the United States.” “I know you have a tough road ahead of you, but you can do it because you know what I believe in you.” “Lastly I know you will be the best president ever.”

Sincerely,
Ms. Edmonds and various Sixth Graders

“P.S. I hope you like being the president!”
“P.S. You are the man!”

Donors Choose Me, Please!

I did a cool project with my students last year in which they wrote creation myths and then illustrated the myth in a little book. We invited their parents and read and celebrated their work. It was a proud occasion and I'm looking to recreate it this year, but I need some funding (I know, not the best economy to be asking for that)- but anyway, here is the link for the full proposal on Donor's Choose:
http://www.donorschoose.org/donors/proposal.html?id=224650

Maverick

On election day, my dad, who is a member of the East Hampton Town Democrats, went to his local polling place to hold up an Obama sign with the other Town Democrats. Now, tradition in East Hampton dictates that Democrats hold up signs on one side of the street, Republicans on the other. My dad decided to stand on the Republican side. Some folks were miffed, so the chair of the Town GOP walked over and told my dad he needed to stand on the Democrat side. In characteristic fashion, my dad refused, explaining that he was a "Republican for Obama." Later, the GOP leader learned that my dad is in fact a big ole Dem. So he goes back to my dad and says "You're on the Democratic committee. Why did you say you were a Republican?" My dad's response: "Because I'm a Maverick." (written by my sister)

Letter to the Editor

My Letter to the Editor on this NY Times article, Next Question: Can Students Be Paid to Excel?

To the Editor:

Re “Next Question: Can Students Be Paid to Excel?” (front page, March 5), about a program to reward teachers and students for test performance at P.S. 188 on the Lower East Side of Manhattan:

I was a student teacher at P.S. 188 and am familiar with the school’s focus on state tests. I was shocked that educated professionals would support an initiative to pay students for test scores.

As a middle-school English teacher who constantly strives to help students realize that reading and writing are a larger part of life than a short state test, I detest the concept of rewarding their performance with money. Poor students who do basic academic work because it results in cash are merely being coached to perform, and the people really benefiting are school professionals and politicians.

This initiative sends the message that learning for learning’s sake is obsolete. Paying students for test scores reduces the teaching of English to a transaction, one in which a teacher sells students methods of fooling test graders.

This is not an education.

Julie Edmonds
New York, March 5, 2008

I'm Not Running for President

In college my housemates and I spent a disproportionate amount of time personifying objects, which is part of why I find this ad, about the wind and for wind turbines, awesome.

Miracle Berries

I cannot eat sour foods. I pucker uncontrollably, turn red, cry, and my throat closes up. It is truly horrible. Unfortunately, my sour receptors are also very keen- oranges, for example, are a bit too sour for me to really enjoy. Limes, Granny Smith apples, kumquat and grapefruit- out of the question.

For Valentine's day, Adam came up with a gift to address this issue. A magical gift by the name of "miracle berries" or "miracle fruit."

Miracle berries are just that; berries from West Africa that, for about 20-40 minutes after you eat them, make sour foods taste sweet. It is hard to imagine or believe, but it is true, and amazing! The proof I offer you, besides personal testimony, is in the form of pictures. The one at the top is a before (horrific face caused by lime) and the ones on the left are befores, on the rights afters (kumquat-induced):

I love the last lines of poems.

Navigating in the Dark
by Erik Campbell

Papua, Indonesia

In this mining town in Papua the electricity
Has a habit of giving up at night, and this

Is a miracle of modern stasis, a secular Shabbat,
Reminding us of what is expendable, of how so few

Of us ever truly experience the dark. We are amazed,
My wife and I, with the heavy darkness

Of the no moon jungle, insect sounds lacerating
All illusions of silent places. "It's so absolute,"

My wife says, and I like to think she means
More than the darkness; the naked places

Of ourselves we dress in sunlight, lamps,
And recorded music like antithetical

Blanche DeBois's fearing a different sort
Of scrutiny. "We could pretend it's 1940,"

I say, "put a Jack Benny tape on the short wave
And drink coffee, light candles." She suggests

A walk outside instead, where there are dozens
Of others already out on paths bounded by jungle,

Stepping small and laughing loudly through various
Uncertainties; flashlights as eyes, ears like animals'.

Soon we are trying only to remember not to disappear
Altogether; everything is so absolutely, so darkly possible.

Happy St. Valentine's Day!