Remembering Things

I am home. Got here on Christmas Eve's eve and haven't left. That's the problem with home, I never have a whole lot of ambition to go anywhere. Probably because there's not many places to go. Anyways...

It's been good. I've had a lot of great family time, Christmas was wonderful, I've been sleeping on a bed rather than a couch. My allergies are acting up, due to the amount of cats living in the same space as me (in fact, there's one in my bed now; she just won't leave me alone), but that's really my only complaint as of right now.

There has been a lot of cleaning going on in our house the past two days. Three of the four kids have clean rooms (and there's really no hope for a perfect four for four, Bradley is kind of a slob; and by kind of, I mean a total slob...). I spent well over seven hours unpacking, cleaning, rearranging, and organizing my room so I'd have space to live and breathe for the next few months as I figure out my life. My little sister also spent the better part of yesterday cleaning her room and getting it ready for us to paint later next week. Today Josh cleaned and rearranged his room as well. We've been busy.

I don't know if it's just our family, but we kind of like watching each other clean. I'd take a break and go watch Sara put away her clothes. Sara'd get bored and come watch me organize books. Tonight I spent about half an hour watching Josh clean his room. I'm not sure why this is a trend, but I've noticed it before.

I've also noticed how much stuff we actually have. I will be real -- I like my stuff. Very rarely do I feel guilty about how much I have, and maybe that makes me a terrible person. But when the majority of my personal belongings are books, I find it hard to feel too terribly guilty. So sue me.

It occurred to me tonight that much of what we keep around is quite useless. In my room above my window I have a shelf filled with mementos from my childhood, knick-knacks and stuffed animals that have stuck around. Truthfully, I remember getting, or even liking, two or three of the things on that shelf. Yet I keep them. Why?

We keep things to remember what we think is important. Not a bad thing. But when we keep so much that it all becomes meaningless, is it worth it? Like when I found a couple of bolts in my dressing table yesterday, it took me about three minutes to remember why I had them, but I knew they had to mean something, otherwise I wouldn't keep a couple of bolts. Eventually I remembered, but if it wasn't important enough to remember right away, was it important enough for me to throw them back in the drawer?

And if I was too young to remember liking that stuffed animal on the shelf, is it worth it to keep it? It isn't a part of my memories; if anything, it is a memento from my mother's past, not mine. So do I ditch Funny Bunny, or does he get to keep his place on the shelf because my mother can remember how much he made me laugh as a baby?

Maybe I'm only thinking about these things because everything I own, outside of a few large pieces of furniture, is somewhere stashed in this bedroom. How much do I need in order to remember?  When do we become crushed by the things that are supposed to be reminding us of something that we don't really need something physical to remind us of?

I don't have the answers. I only got rid of one garbage bag of things for Goodwill, none of which are the mementos that are still haunting my room. Obviously I have no answers. I guess that's okay, just something to think about.

Until next time.

Ending Remarks

It's the end of the world as I know it. Literally. Tomorrow, if the world survives, will be my last day in Chicago. At least for awhile.

It is a strange realization. Shouldn't be. I've know this day was coming for the past few weeks. I just am not a fan of endings. But then again, who is?

 At this time, have three quotes running through my head:

"It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine." by R.E.M.

 I just find this ironic. Not sure what the significance is at the moment, it just makes me happy.

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." by Semisonic.

I really like this song (Closing Time, if you didn't know). Classic 90s. I actually wrote this quote on the wall of hopes at the show I'm working on. Someone's comment back: "conservation of energy, bitch." Obviously they didn't get the reference. Whatever, it made me giggle.

"I hope, my Catherine, you are not getting out of humor with home because it is not so grand as Northanger. That would be turning your visit into evil indeed. Wherever you are you should always be contented, but especially at home, because there you spend the most of your time." from 'Northanger Abbey' by Jane Austin.

Obviously, the last has the most impact on my current situation. I am not used to Jane preaching to me, but this morning she convicted me. Being home and being contented is something that has been very hard for me for the past 4 years.

But what I also realized last night and this morning is that i don't feel contented in Chicago anymore either. It was a realization not terribly welcome, I will be honest. My season in Chicago is changing just as the cold weather is sweeping into the city. Ironic, is it not?

 I just don't know what this means for me. This is a major time of transition, I just don't know what I'm transitioning into. Frustrating. So very frustrating. I just want to know my real next step.

 I still can't see going home as my next step. It feels like going backwards. Good things will happen while I'm there, I have no doubt. But it is not ideal, not by a long ways. Sorry beloved family. You are wonderful; Orchard, not so much.

 Then again, the would may end tonight. Maybe I won't have to worry about it. Yeah, not counting on that...

Until next time.

End of Night

Theatre is all about making the audience believe in what you are saying. At least for the 2 hours you hold them captive. That is unless your audience is full of pretentious hipsters (Autocorrect totally made this monsters, which also works) too cool to take part in your awesome interactive experience.

 There is always one night that everything seems to go wrong. Tonight is that night. List time!

1. Lights.
I am not a light person. Never have been, never will be. Tonight I was the first person in the space, and as assistant stage manager, it is my job to turn lights on. So I opened the step by step instructions and tried to follow them to a t. Only problem was that someone did not properly shut them down last night. So i spent 30 minutes turning on the stupid lights. Gerr....lights....

2. Sound
While I was turning on lights, the sound designer came in looking for his laptop. He hid it in the lobby because the theatre was locked, but couldn't find it. Found the bag, but no laptop. Someone jacked it. He was very calm about, which was good, I guess. So all the music for our end of the world party is live drumming.

3. Ezra
Ezra is an actor. He is a problem all in himself. To my NYC friends, think Tiemen problem. Tonight was so full of Ezra problems, he gets his own sub-list.

A. Lost necklace. He starts the night as a homeless man on the street, ends it as mystic shamen. In between the two, he has a beaded necklace. He couldn't find it. Wasn't in the giant plastic bag, wasn't in the small fabric bag. I didn't believe him, or at least wanted to make sure. So i start digging. Wasn't in the fabric bag. Wasn't in the plastic bag. Finally found it in the smaller plastic bag filled with other plastic bags inside the bigger plastic bag. His response: "what would I do without you?"

B. Lost underwear. He has specific red boxer briefs he has to wear. Couldn't find them, asked me where they were. I told him that was one prop I wasn't going to keep track of for him. He finally found them stuffed behind a bike helmet in the top of a locker.

C. Lost pants. After he found his underwear, he couldn't find his pants. I took one look in the locker and found them in a ball on the bottom of it. His response: "what would i do without you?"

D. Body paint. Every cast member gets some paint, but he gets a whole lot. After the other Kristen was fired from the task, I got to step in as Ezra painter. Half way through the show he decided it wasn't right, so he was going to wipe it off and make me do it again.
"No, Ezra, you don't have time."
"Kristin, Kanome hasn't even started her poem."
"Every night you keep painting and it is never dry when you have to go on, so you're upset because you get paint on your pants. You don't have time."
"But my friends are here."
"Your friends won't know the difference."
"Yes they will, they've been staring at the stupid symbol all night."
"I don't care, Ezra, give me he baby wipe, you aren't taking it off!"
"But it's wrong!"
"Ezra, you're an actor, you know about status. Give me the status and shut up. You're on in a second." "Mean."

 I have a feeling that by the end of the run next week I could have a whole alphabet of Ezra problems. The guy is on his own planet most of the time, but I have such a soft spot for actors like him. They make me feel needed, because honestly, I don't know what he would do without me there picking up after him or finding his stuff.

4. No red paint or q tips.
Because of the large amount of painting going on, there is a run on red paint and q tips. The actors think It's the end if the world. They may have to use pink! Gasp!

5. Broken mirror. It fell off the wall. Good fun.

6. Dark. Kristen fell over a bench. Great fun.

Ok, so really, the show went well considering. Theatre has had a lot worse luck, that's for sure.

My tablet is about to die and McDonalds is about to close. This is enough for tonight.

 Until next time.

Christmas Spirit

The past couple weeks I have been getting in the Christmas spirit. Because Chicago refuses to give me snow, it's been a little tough. Plus, I can't put up a Christmas tree. Maybe I'll convince Dan and Andrew they need one for the week I'm living on their couch.

But little by little, I've been getting Christmas-y. Want to see how? Well, okay, you convinced me...

1. "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens at the Goodman Theatre.

Dan took me and a couple of Chicago Semester girls with his and Andrew's comp tickets a few weeks ago. It was so great. All four of us were really excited about Christmas afterwards. Plus, it was great theatre. Can't beat that.

2. Zoo Lights at Lincoln Park Zoo.

Yes, it was December and I was wearing a sweater and jean jacket. Chicago is wonky this year. But Zoo Lights was so cool. Heather and Lynda were visiting for the weekend, so we made out way through the zoo. Saw no animals, but lots and lots of Christmas lights. It was great.

3. Ice Skating in Millennium Park.

I had never been ice skating before, but it was on my to do list before leaving Chicago. I was really nervous before we got there. And when we were putting on our skates. And right before we got in the rink. And the first couple laps around the rink.

But after about fifteen or twenty minutes, I was doing surprisingly well. I could go a lap around the rink without holding onto the rail. It was so fun! And I only fell once, which is pretty impressive for a first time ice skater. I loved it, and because Christmas music was playing, it was a great way to get all excited for Christmas music.

4. Christmas movies and Christmas Pandora. I don't have a picture for these, sorry. But my roommate bought a pack of six classic Christmas movies, so we've been watching old movies like Frosty and Rudolph and Santa Claus is Comin' to Town. When we don't watch movies, I have Christmas music playing from my computer. It's lovely.

It's been a little strange, making it through this much of December without any snow or Christmas tree decorating or present wrapping. But I think I'll make it, somehow. A week from tomorrow night I will be on a bus all night to get me back to Nebraska. I will be home by Christmas Eve's eve, and I will try very hard to convince my mother to put up the Christmas tree (she doesn't want to put one up because she always gets yelled at for not taking it down until March or April, so she decided to just not put one up this year. Silly, and not acceptable. That will be my task, so beware, family. My tradition of putting up the tree with old Christmas movies will not be broken).

I am excited to spend my Christmas at home. I'm excited to go to Christmas Eve service with my Grandma. I'm excited for chili and new pajamas on Christmas Eve. I'm excited for cinnamon rolls and staying in my pajamas all day on Christmas. I'm excited for snow, because it will happen while I'm home. I can feel it.

Until next time.

Rehearsal Report

You would think that since I'm not at school for eight hours a day, I would have more time to blog.

Wrong.

Kinda. Technically I probably would have more time, if my schedule hadn't changed so drastically. I'm still adjusting to being able to go to sleep late after rehearsals and stay in bed later in the morning. It's been a strange new development in my life, this sleeping in thing. Not complaining, my most natural sleeping patterns are from 1 a.m. to 10 a.m.

I've also been very busy with the production I'm assistant stage managing. I went to rehearsals a couple times last week as teaching was finishing up, then more full time after that. So that has taken at least five hours of my day. On days like Monday when we built set, I was there for 10 hours. Tuesday for technical rehearsal and cue to cue, I was there for another 10 hours. Last night for invited preview, I was there for 8 hours.

It's been exhausting. But really great. And hopefully tonight is the first night of a typical run time, so I should only be there about 5 hours. We'll see.

This has been a very enlightening experience so far. The company I'm working with is quite small, but packs a lot of punch. The space they work in is on the third floor of an artists studio community. A very unconventional space, but they make it work. Every single person working on this show has a day job, which was not unexpected.

Last night was the first time I truly felt needed, which was so encouraging. That is the hardest part for me when it comes to stage managing. But in the chaos of preview, I bloomed. I was body painting actors, I was setting props that they forgot while the audience was distracted, I was stifling giggles as we realized our stupidity. Reminded me why I love being an assistant stage manager: interaction with the actors.

Today on the list of things to do is start packing, which I am not looking forward to. I've decided my next step takes me home for a few months, just long enough to figure out my real next step. I'm not terribly excited about going home for any long period of time, but I am excited to see my family. When the whole world is open to explore, going home seems like retreat. But I'm trying to see it as a strategic battle plan. We'll see how it goes.

I think that's enough for this Thursday morning. I'm going to put on some Christmas music and start packing. Yay...

Until next time.

KP Wrap-Up

I have completed my student teaching.

Wowza. That feels good to type.

Still sounds a little funny when I say it, still makes me sad when I think about my students, but it feels so good to be done.

I actually have some pictures. On my last day, I made all my classes take group pictures with me. Most of them did it. They are all quite awkward pictures, but they make me smile. Especially since none of them could get the idea of creating rows, so they all just stood hidden behind each other. Maybe that was their plan...

Second period. Started the semester with 6 students, ended up with about 16 by the time I left. Since it was Friday, there were a lot of absences. This was a great way to start my day of teaching. Such goofs.

Third period. This class changed members so often, some of these students I only had for three weeks. My favorite one in this picture is in the black cardigan; he really likes to think he's tough and cool. I guess for a freshmen, he is.

 Fifth period. This was actually our largest class. It also had the largest amount of students who refused to take their picture with me. Lame. A hard class for me to teach, but some really great students.

 Sixth period. I love this class. All around top notch. Crazy, but top notch.

Eighth period. The craziest possible way to end a day of teaching. They were nuts. But so great. The one giving me bunny ears was one of my favorite students over all. He also told me he could talk to his aunt and hook me up with a job at T-Mobile.

I miss them already. Mostly just because I know I won't see them on Monday.

Surprisingly, I didn't cry at all on Friday. It was strange, I expected to. But the more I think about it, the more I'm pretty sure this won't be my last time at KP. It feels like it did when I was leaving Waco the first time; I knew I would be back. I'm pretty sure I'll be back at KP.

It didn't feel like good-bye, merely a see you later.

Until next time.

Road Conversations

I can't remember if I've mentioned on here how much time I spend on the public transit system here in Chicago. A LOT. At the very least, two hours a day. Which is average for a commute. But it seems like I spend an awful lot of time on a train or bus in this city. Mostly because I do.

Today on my way home, something happened that made me pull out my journal and fill the last to empty pages with this poem. Thought I'd share it. Not my best poem, but I like it nonetheless.

Dirt Road Conversations

Something happened on the bus

That reminded me of home

Two buses drove one after another

Mine in the back vying for front

She pulled up next to him

Opened the door

And started talking to him

During a red light

And I had visions of old men

Stopping on a dirt road

Rolling down their windows

And having a nice chat

Alone and uninterrupted

Until another farmer

Or a teenager drove up

Wanting to continue on their way

A tip of the farmer’s cap

A friendly parting word

And they’d be on their way

Until the next farmer approached

These bus drivers weren’t friends

She just wanted to tell him

She would be passing him

But it made me smile nonetheless

And think fondly of dirt road conversations

Little things like this are always happening, sometimes they are bigger than others, but there are often little sightings of home in this city. And it's these little things that make me feel connected not just to Chicago, but to my roots back in Nebraska. Because no matter where we end up, there are somethings that are just in human nature to do, like start talking to someone in a vehicle pulled up next to you.  It helps me not feel so homesick.

Until next time.

Fifth Period Smiles

I've had this poem ruminating in my head since fifth period today. It's about a very special student of mine that was having a particularly tough day today. G.T. is one of those students who always, always makes my day better. He struts into class, typically a little late, with a wide grin on his face. He's a little rough, but not as rough as he'd like everyone to think. G.T. loves football, hates reading, and really likes to tease girls. His grin always makes me smile, and during fifth period, I need anything I can get to smile.

Today was different. So different that I wrote a poem about him.

I could tell something was wrong when you didn’t smile

You always share your smile with me

It’s the highlight of fifth period

But today there was no smile

No wandering around the room

No teasing the girls near you

No smile

I needed that smile

Partially for me

But mostly for you

I’ve never felt anger in a body the way you carry it around

Square shoulders of a fifteen year old

Muscles tight and tense

As if it was taking every iota of restraint

To keep you from exploding into pieces

You kept your eyes on the ground

Asking if you could go to the restroom

At first I told you no

Following classroom rules

But pulling you aside by the door

Asking what was going on

You said nothing

That you were fine

I didn’t believe you

Asking if you needed to talk

You said no

That it could only be resolved by action

Red flags went off in my head

I stood in front of the door

Keeping your focus

Telling  you that nothing is worth that much trouble

The kind of trouble that would get you kicked out or arrested

That would keep me from seeing you every day

Because I don’t have very many days left

And I would hate to miss one single day of seeing you

You glanced up

Seeing if I was serious

I held eye contact reassuring you

Telling you how important you are to me

You glanced up again

Checking to see if I was still serious

Like you didn’t believe me

I smiled

You didn’t

But you did look relieved

When I told you I was here to talk if you needed me

I let you go to the bathroom

Said I expected you back in ten minutes

You nodded and left the room

Shoulders a little less squared

I returned to the class

Three minutes later so did you

You didn’t smile before the bell rang

But a couple periods later in the hall

I saw a smile

And I needed that smile

But not as much as you did

Today was a rough day. During forth period, the freshmen lunch period, there were four fights in roughly forty-five minutes. Two were in the lunch room, two in a couple classrooms. Tension is running high at Kelvyn Park. The blood split on the streets of Chicago this past week is leaking into the halls.  It makes teaching very hard and learning almost impossible. 

The final project for the unit I designed is about issues they see in the community or school and suggestions for improvement. At least three groups in all five periods are talking about gangs and/or violence. 

I am becoming more and more aware of how blessed my life is here. Yes, I'm hours away from many friends and family, I have almost no money, I'm stressed beyond belief. But a thirty minute bus ride and I leave behind the issues those kids have to go home to. 

Because as much as people want to separate home from school, what happens at one has a direct impact on the other. If a kid can't sleep because there are gun shots happening in the park down the block from his house, he's going to have a shitty day in school. When a kid's mom bought drugs instead of groceries that week, she's not going to be able to focus in second period. 

And the worst part? I can do virtually nothing. Encouragement and smiles are about all I can give them, and even those they have to be willing to take. It's hard. Really, really hard.

It's a good thing it's Friday. I'm tired, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. And yet I'm still awake. 

Until next time.

One Ripple

It's November. Fall. No shave November. NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). I have felt the desire to write lately. And as much as I would love to write a novel in the month of November and partake in the exciting challenge, I don't have that kind of time.

So I'm having a PerPoWriMo (Personal Poetry Writing Month). Writing a poem everyday is much more doable for my time allotments. I may not post one every day, but hopefully I will write one every day.

So, day one:

one ripple

i am only one person
with one heart
one mind
one soul
every morning i walk
two blocks
ride the train for
two stops
and ride the bus for
twenty times two minutes
then walk
two divided by one blocks
to a school falling apart
literally and metaphorically
i use my two hands to
pass out countless papers
i use my two eyes to
see countless faces
walking through the halls
i use my two feet to
wander through desks
filled with students who
don't want to be there and
will tell you all about it
not just with words but
body language
eye rolls frowns folded arms
slouched postures judging eyes
i teach the same lesson five times
i teach the same lesson to
one hundred and sixty students
i answer the same question
two dozen multipled by two times
my voice fades among the
two dozen plus two plus two plus two
voices that keep talking
my two ears hear
rumblings of fights and
escapades going on in the building
my two eyes see the pain and
frustration when things get hard
but my two hands can't do anything
because as much as i want to be more
i am just one person
with one heart
one mind
one soul that longs to make the
smallest ripple
hoping that ring grows
beyond what i can do

Until next time.

Symphonic Tails

I think it's funny
The way men flip out their
Tails before they sit down,
Saving their suit from wrinkles.
It seems like such a dramatic
Gesture made to signify
Dignity and class.
Because gentlemen don't
Wrinkle or crease,
And they always flip out
Rather than tuck in.
Women don't have that
Luxury or dramatic statement.
Imagine the reaction
Received if a woman lifted her
Dress before sitting down,
Letting it fall around her but
Not under her,
Bare legs sticking to the plastic
Chair and underwear peaking.
That just wouldn't do.
How unfair life tends to be,
Keeping tails flipped out and
Skirts tucked in.
These expectations I am supposed to be
Confined to tighten around my
Neck like the tie I'm
Self-conscious to wear.
Because sitting with your legs
Squeezed together is uncomfortable and
Impossible for eight hour days
And going to the ballet with no
Bra is socially unacceptable.
And it doesn't seem to matter my
Desire to stick to chairs and
Let them hang once in awhile.
I find myself longing for
Luxuries that don't come with my
Body or sex or gender,
Kept from comfort and convenience by a
Vagina and boobs,
When sometimes all I want is to
Flip out my tails. 

Buckets and Ramblings

I am revising my bucket list for the semester:

1. Ride on all colors of trains. So far I've crossed red, blue, and pink off. That leaves green, yellow, purple, and brown.

2. Green Mill Poetry Slam. I've been here eight weeks and still no poetry slam at the founding bar.

3. The Brew and View Movie Theatre. I'm most likely going to watch the last Twilight movie tipsy. Hopefully it will make it better. Or at least more enjoyable.

4. Ice Skating in Millinium Park. I've never gone ice skating. It may kill me. But I want to try anyway.

5. DuSable Museum of African American History. It's only free on Sunday, so it may be my afternoon outing today.

6. Jane Addams Hull House Museum. Always free, just need to take the time and actually go.

7. Blue Man Group. If you volunteer to usher, you can see the show for free. My roommate and best friend went last night, I was jealous.

8. Museum of Mexican Art. Also always free, just need to take the time and actually go.

9. Have one drink in the Hancock Building Signature Lounge. Because buying a drink is cheaper than paying to go to the observatory, and the lounge is higher.

10. See as many shows for as little money possible. My goal is actually one every week, but that might be stretching it a bit. It's possible to get cheap seats, but I don't know if it's possible to get that cheap of seats.

It's been an interesting week. Monday I had my first really awful day of school. Week seven is pretty good for my first awful day. And then Tuesday was great, so it all turned out fine.

I went to a ballet. Beautiful. But I'm realizing that my attention span isn't long enough for ballets. It's very hard to just focus on what is happening on stage. It's lovely and moving, but often times I'm watching and thinking about something completely different. I think it's because I'm such a lover of words that it's hard to pay attention when there aren't any.

I've been struck by the first homesick twinges for awhile. Like Monday after my awful day, I just wanted to go home. I also made pizza casserole for Andrew that night and ate his mushrooms; if I was home, I would have been eating my brother Brad's mushrooms. Stupid things like that. Or going to a show on my own yesterday made miss walking into the theatre department and finding someone who would go see a show with me. I'm also missing friends who don't require going out and drinking every night to have fun. Not that I'm against drinking, but I don't want to do it every, single night. Not my scene at all. Strangely enough, I found myself a little homesick after talking to my dad on the phone about farming and my absentee ballot.

The desires to go home pass quickly, but they are there nonetheless. I'm excited for Christmas so I can go home for a bit. I'm not excited for Christmas, because I have no idea what my life is going to look like after December 7. I need a Chicago roommate.

My weeks in Chicago are over half over. By the time November comes, I'll have missed it. Halloween, then I have friends coming the first weekend of November, then the elections happen, then Aleah is visiting, then I think Heather and Lynda are visiting, then it's Thanksgiving, then I have two weeks of teaching left. Bah. Crazy to think about. So I'm not going to think about it.

Until next time. 

Homecoming Humbug

I have never been a part of a school so anti-homecoming as Kelvyn Park.

Maybe anti-homecoming isn't the right way to phrase it.

I have never been a part of the school where students aren't excited about dressing up everyday. When the weird student teacher is one of the most decked out, there are issues. Why wouldn't you take the opportunity to dress like a complete fool if it was given to you?

I've worn quite a few funky things this week, things I never thought I'd get to wear to school, such as:

-Star Wars cut off shirt
-Neon blue leggings
-Purple skinny jeans
-Light blue swim trunks
-Denim floral button up shirt
-Orange paisley tie

Sadly, the weird days are over, leaving Kelvyn Park Spirit Day (wear gold and black) and Twin Day (gross...). I must say I made a pretty decent nerd, a really awesome '80's chick, and went all out for wacky-tacky day. It's been fun. If nothing else, I've given the kids something to talk about.

It's been so interesting realizing the feelings of animosity and frustration that your teachers hold, your students are going to pick up on. Where there is disfunction and stress, it's no wonder the students don't show a whole lot of school spirit. Hard to force spirit in a place that seems pretty spiritless.

However, despite the chaos still happening all around us, we are doing our best to create a classroom of safety and stability. I don't know how well it's working, but we sure are trying.

The most important thing for me is that I am having a good time with the students, and I think they feel the same with me. They give me a hard time well enough, I would hope they enjoy me.

They've discovered that if they're funny and make me laugh, I often loose a lot of my intensity and seriousness, obviously. So I'm trying to figure out how to keep control but still have a good time. The proportions are tough to figure out. Mom told me the other day that it's better they know me as the teacher they can make laugh than the teacher they can make cry. I've gone seven weeks without crying. That's gotta be some sort of record for a student teacher, right?

So I'm starting to wade into the deep end, teaching three classes every day and planning a couple lessons a week. I also have the unit plan to create this weekend, so that should be lots and lots of fun.

Until next time.

Student Substitute

Student teachers shouldn't be left with substitute teachers. Bah. Crazy.

Really, it wasn't terrible. The students were a little chaotic at times, but we kept them in check and on task for the most part. It wasn't until eighth hour that it got really interesting. And by interesting, I mean mass chaos.

The task for the day was creating islands in their groups. It was to give the group a way to solidify themselves. Little did we know when I was planning this activity that today would be the day when most of the students would get schedule changes. So the groups will all be different tomorrow. Frustrating.

Anyway, they had to name their island and capital; name a national flower, animal, and colors; write an island motto; give their island a mission statement; appoint a president, vice-president, secretary, and treasurer for the island; write a history of their island; and create a flag. So they were supposed to be creative, have fun, and get done by the end of class.

Here's some of the highlights:

- At least five groups asked if their national flower could be marijuana. No.
- No, "Sex Island" is not an appropriate name, nor is "XXX" for the capital.
- YOLO (You Only Live Once) is the most over done motto I've ever heard. Seriously, be more creative.
- DOLO (Dinosaurs Only Live Once) is a bit more creative. It made me laugh.
- Don't tell me your head phones don't work. I know you're lying. You wouldn't have them in your ear if they didn't work.
- You're a sophomore. Go to your own class.
- "A shipwreck"  is not a good enough history. Come on, be creative, tell me a story!
- You don't get candy everyday. And you have to earn candy.
- Hey, you're too loud. Bring it down.
- "What's your name again?" "Ms. Trease." "Tree?" "Trease" "Tree?" "Trease." "Tree?" "You can call me Ms. T."
- Writing curse words on the desk with dry erase markers is not approriate behavior. I don't care if it wipes right off.
- Oh my goodness, stay in your seat!
- "Sit." "I'm not a dog." "I know you're not. Sit down, please."
- No, he doesn't "look gay." There is nothing wrong with being gay, but don't call him gay if he's not.
- No, Adhall can not be your national animal. He's a human, pick an animal. And you don't spell his name Adel. 

And the cherry on the sundae:

I broke up my first fight.

Kevin had his bag and coat in the chair next to him, made it look like a person, they called him Bob. Jordan wanted to sit in Bob's seat. Kevin pushed Jordan's arm away. Jordan grabbed Kevin by the shirt and shoved him out of this seat into the table behind them. That's where I jumped in, breaking them apart and taking them to the hall. The sub made sure they didn't kill each other, I pushed the button for security. In the mean time, I went to the hall, talked them down. Kevin calmed down, went back in the classroom. I calmed Jordan down, gave him a minute, he went back into the classroom. They both went back to work just fine. Five minutes later, security showed up. Little late, guys. I had it handled by that point.

It was crazy. One minute I was reading about Barney's Island, the next I was prying fists from a kid's shirt. I just hope the students didn't notice the panic on my face.

All in all, I feel good about the day. I think I handled everything very well. It was just not how I expected my day to end. Crazy. Welcome to inner city schools.

On a positive note, I got to talk to a student about not dropping out of school. I hope he stays. I think I convinced him to at least wait until Friday so he can talk to Ms. Holzmann tomorrow and the councilors on Friday.

I love my placement. Always an adventure.

Until next time.

Coffee Shops

I've started drinking coffee. If you know me at all, you realize the giant step this is. There are just some mornings that a medium coffee with cream and sugar from Dunkin' Donuts is a necessity. I don't drink it every day, but I drink it often enough to realize that I should probably invest in a coffee pot or French press and make my own coffee in the morning.

I also watch a whole lot of "How I Met Your Mother" with my roommate. But that's not so surprising.

It's been a crazy week. School is so chaotic still. We like to blame the strike, but eventually we have to realize that it's bigger than that. There is a lot of crap going on in the school and the city politically that is still effecting our classrooms, which sucks. We can hardly promise a stable environment to our kids if we can't promise we'll be teaching them tomorrow. Very frustrating.

You know what else is frustrating? No locally owned coffee shops within walking distance of my apartment. At least not close walking distance. I had to take a 10 minute ride on the bus and walk 6 more blocks to get to the coffee shop I'm at this afternoon. But, it's better than Starbucks. Not cheaper, but better. I'd much rather support a local coffee shop than a huge corporate coffee chain. Plus, sometimes getting out of my neighborhood is a necessity.

Want to know an interesting fact about my neighborhood? Three blocks from my apartment is the original Playboy Mansion. I didn't even know the original was in Chicago, let alone so close to me. Not that it really matters one way or the other, but I thought it was interesting.

The walls in this coffee shop are really white... Sorry, distraction.

I think I'm going to give highlights of the last week. Sounds like a good idea.

Monday: Story Tellers Writing Workshop. The theatre that Andrew has his internship meets at a local bar on certain Monday nights and write. It was great to have a reason to write, not that I need reasons, but I don't often give myself reasons. And I love listening to other people's stories.

Tuesday: I made fresh peach pie. It was delicious. Also, Adholl invited me to the JV soccer game. I couldn't go, and they didn't actually play, but it was nice to be invited.

Wednesday: I taught my first class, kind of. At times my cooperating teacher jumped in to help me. It went well, for the most part.

Thursday: I taught my second class, all the way through. It was pretty exciting. Nicolas, one of the problem students, did all of his assignment for me. Success!

Friday: I went to a dress rehearsal for a low key opera. The opera itself was sub-par, at best. But it was nice to be back in a technical theatre environment. Made me miss it, a lot.

Saturday: I took a nap. It was lovely. And I spent the evening dancing with some really great people.

Sunday: A lazy morning and a productive afternoon. It's closing in on four o'clock, and I got done the majority of my to do list. That always feels good.

I think that's enough for now. I will be better about posting more regularly. Or at least I will try.

Until next time.

Learning to Teach

Back to school. This has been a very. . .interesting week.

Wednesday kind of felt like the first day of school all over again, except a lot louder, due to the fact that the freshmen timidness had started to wear off. There was lots of questions about the strike, lots of shrugs when I asked if they were excited to be back, lots of smiles when they thought I wasn't looking.

I feel as though I'm learning so much more than the kids are. So, due to the lack of lists as of late, here's one for you. All the things I've learned at school this week:

1. My boys are crazy, but oh, how I love them. They are so entertaining. I find myself overhearing things, giving them disapproving glances, then smiling as I walk away. It's terribly hard for me to reprimand something that's so fricking funny.

2. Schools are ridiculous. There is so much chaos, so many issues that teachers have to deal with. Especially this year. They are still fixing student schedules, figuring out what teachers are supposed to have what class, finding rooms for all the classes. Things that really should have been figured out, but aren't.

3. The longer I linger in the school after the day is over, the fewer students I have to ride the bus with. Trust me, that is a good thing to learn.

4. High heels are not great teacher shoes. But boy, are they cute.

5. The kids are still trying to figure out how they feel about me. Which is fine. I think we've gotten over the, "What the fuck does this girl want?" phase. Now I think they just laugh at me. Which is also fine.

6. Silence is golden. It really, really is. And doesn't come around very often.

7. Eighth period is crazy. Absolutely no focus whatsoever.

8. I really, really do like freshmen. They are wonderful.

9. I already have my favorites. And they're the ornery ones, of course. 

10. I really, really do like teaching. This week. We'll see what next week brings.

Until next time.

Striking Ending

The strike is officially over. Tomorrow morning I will be among the lucky ones who get to board the buses and go to school! I haven't been this excited about school in a long time! So, so thankful. 

This weekend I offered to write an article for our campus newspaper, The Beacon. In celebration of the end of strike, I decided to post it here. It's earlier than when The Beacon is published, but in the grand scheme of things, not many people on my campus will read it here before they read it there. 

So, here it is, my opinion article on the Chicago Teacher's strike that officially is over.

First week of school. I was in a high school with approximately the same number of students that walk NWC’s campus. There were 150 some odd freshmen passing through our classroom. I was attempting to learn names; they were re-learning how to go to school. 

And then the walk out happened. After four days of school, teachers were outside holding signs and chanting, rather than inside the classroom teaching. Students were not in the classrooms. And I was not fulfilling my student teaching requirements. Slightly problematic on all accounts. 

If you listen to the main stream media, chances are the teachers and union are being cast in some pretty dim light. They are “depraving students of learning opportunities, being unfair in their demands, asking for too much,” etc.

There is a lot of misinformation out there. From my experience, very few teachers really wanted to strike. Most saw this as a last resort. Negotiations had been in the works since last November and getting nowhere fast. 

As I walked down the streets of downtown Chicago engulfed in a sea of red shirts and picket signs Monday afternoon, there were some words of wisdom being held that say it better than I do:

“I’m doing this to get rich,” said NO teacher ever.

Teacher’s working conditions = Student’s learning conditions

1/29^th of my time isn’t good enough. 

You can’t but students first if you put teachers last. 

The Chicago teachers are getting a lot of backlash from a lot of people who don’t take the time to get the facts. It doesn’t matter what side you stand on, as long as you do your research and know what’s going on. 

As for me, I’m standing with the teachers. They are fighting for their rights, for the student’s well being. And they are fighting for my future in this city, a fight that legally I’m not allowed to be a part of as a student teacher. 

Yes, it is a crappy situation. Parents are scrambling for child care, teenagers are at home bored, teachers are chanting in the streets. But despite all this, it has been beautiful to see a huge population of Chicago come together, strong and united. Not just teachers supporting teachers, but students and parents and community members supporting teachers. My favorite was the firemen and policemen joining with the chanting as the teachers rallied down the streets. 

Hopefully by the time this article is published, we will all be back where we belong, in the classroom, back to reading books and grading papers. Through this all, it’s clear that no one hates kids being out of classrooms more than teachers. Why else would they spend so much time taking attendance every morning? 

Until next time, call me Ms. Trease.

Blue Trains

Lately I have spent a lot of time on trains and buses. Sometimes I read, but other times I just people watch. It is so interesting.

People have certain ways they expect other people to act on the train. Headphones are common, though not a requirement. You can sit next to them if there are no double seats open, but as soon as two seats are available, they would like you to move to that empty bench so they can have both seats. Eye contact is looked down upon, or at least quickly averted. They don't want you looking at them. Or at least not to make it obvious.

I'm such a people watcher. I love it. There are little things that you can pick up that can tell a whole story about a person. That's where this poem came from this afternoon.

I went to the Museum of Science and Industry today on my day off, so I was taking public transit across town alone. I read on the train, but decided not to on the bus since I was unfamiliar with the stops and didn't want to miss mine. This guy wearing a blue shirt got on, put away his bus pass, and got out a yellow folder with "Greek" written across the front of it. He got off at a college campus and I went to the museum.

After wandering around the museum, I got back on the bus, and after a few stops, so did he. I wrote this poem on the train, which we both transferred to. I felt slightly creepy, but I try to remind myself that authors often do this kind of thing. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself.

Blue Trains

I am intrigued by the boy in blue

Who rides the train to school

And studies Greek on the bus.

He tunes out the world,

His ears enveloped by his own sounds,

While mine stay open to hear his sighs.

I am intrigued by his open Bible,

Not because I don’t have one of my own,

But because he is reading his.

This boy doesn’t notice me,

Or my Star Wars t-shirt,

Or at least he doesn’t make it obvious.

And I can’t help but think

We missed out on a good conversation.

A talk that started with Star Wars

And maybe ended with God,

Because the two topics easily

Run from one to another.

But instead after he was done with class

And I finished wandering

Aimlessly through the science museum,

We got on different train cars.

Living in the same city

But having no connection

Other than the CTA

And my intrigue of the boy in blue.

Until next time.