I love the morning ritual:
Chasing Ashley and running up and down the street crossing
Walking to school under a full moon
Slamming through the turnstyles
Hopping on the train
Laughing at the sleepy men with us on the morning commute
Laughing when the train driver slows down for a look at Ashley
Music on the Metro.
The Churro* salesman.
Watching people setup their food stands before the sun is up
The smell of fresh vegetables, frying pancakes, and cinnamon coffee
The juicer's stall - never with a light on, always with club music
Jose our bus driver
Nora, Sandra, Scott, Mark, Enrique, and the random other few
Balancing bags and lunches on our knees
Shoulders jamming against headphoned sleeping teachers
Tuning out negative conversations
Trying to learn from positive discussions
Watching the sun rise over Mexico City as we climb up out of the smog
Yawning ¨Beunos Dias!¨ everyone as we stumble inside and up 4 flights of stairs
Email.
The day has begun :-)
*Churros are a kind of fried breadstick with cinnamon sugar... really good!
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Monday, January 21, 2008
This is the stuff of (future) legends
We watched “Soy Leyanda” (I Am Legend) Sunday night. All the Bob Marley themes have me missing Tanya really bad. I wanna make coffee and tease the customers. I also watched some of “Friends” for the first time – my roomie brought the first season with her. Hah. I finally know 
what everyone was talking about, and figured out some connections a certain acquaintance made with coffee shops. Weird when you start figuring out what makes people tick.
what everyone was talking about, and figured out some connections a certain acquaintance made with coffee shops. Weird when you start figuring out what makes people tick.The metro isn’t really that bad, and I’ve been in love with public transportation since Moscow. At night, during “rush hour,” when the trains are crowded, the front 3-4 cars are reserved for women and children, so we don’t have to worry as much about being felt down while 
smashed like sardines. The veteran Americans here have given us a lot of good advice, and we never go anywhere alone. We
live in a safe part of town, and watch each other’s backs. Mexico City really is the secret of Mexico – I had no idea how classy it could be. Sure, the kidnappings really do take place, but safety can become a habit. We try to switch up our routes home every once in a while. We’re saving a lot of money cooking at home, so we don’t have to go to the ATM all the time, and we can leave valuables and home and carry the minimal change and passport copies.
My language acquisition is horribly slow. I listen and usually catch the drift through guessing and context, but Ashley’s my security blanket – I freak out if I’m asked a question and don’t know what it was or how to answer. The barista at Starbucks (yeah, we found one nearby! J) was irritated with me when I couldn’t tell him if I wanted anything else, but he didn’t sabotage my drink, so we’re cool.
smashed like sardines. The veteran Americans here have given us a lot of good advice, and we never go anywhere alone. We
live in a safe part of town, and watch each other’s backs. Mexico City really is the secret of Mexico – I had no idea how classy it could be. Sure, the kidnappings really do take place, but safety can become a habit. We try to switch up our routes home every once in a while. We’re saving a lot of money cooking at home, so we don’t have to go to the ATM all the time, and we can leave valuables and home and carry the minimal change and passport copies.
My language acquisition is horribly slow. I listen and usually catch the drift through guessing and context, but Ashley’s my security blanket – I freak out if I’m asked a question and don’t know what it was or how to answer. The barista at Starbucks (yeah, we found one nearby! J) was irritated with me when I couldn’t tell him if I wanted anything else, but he didn’t sabotage my drink, so we’re cool.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Thursday Reflections
Upon returning to the hotel after dinner yesterday, Mr. Wright informed us that he had found 4-6 more apartment options for us, and that we will take tomorrow (Friday) off in order to try to find one and finalize our plans. I am very relieved. Think I will miss school, but it is important to find an apartment. Besides, we need to find somewhere to do laundry – I can only wear the same pair of dress pants so many days, especially since the hems get so dusty with walking.
Yesterday we walked to the metro station from the hotel – we left at 6, got to the metro about 6:15, caught the next train, and were still about 10 minutes early for the Westhill van. I bought cinnamon-sugar coffee from a street vender and paid the gringo price, because I forgot to ask how much it cost – I paid a crazy $2 USD L. Lesson learned, however – and it was really good. I brought my ghetto portable CD player (everyone else had Ipods) and nearly fell asleep on the 35 minute ride to school listening to Arabic love songs. Somehow listening to relaxing music, particularly if I don’t understand it, makes the cultural transition easier. I’m not sure why, but am pondering it.
I spent the first couple of periods writing emails back and forth to Kennesaw, getting advice from my professors and trying to resolve some issues with financial aid and the study abroad office. After a couple of hours writing stressful emails, I sat down and organized my teacher notebook – hole-punching and filing everything till I was satisfied. I know it’s a sign of perfectionism, but I love to clean/organize when I’m frustrated because I feel like I can fix at least one area of my life. Maybe I can use this tendency in my classroom.
I sat in on 2 of Ashley and Mr. G’s classes and observed, once again, his amazing ability to adapt his lessons to the specific needs and abilities of his classes. Ashley and I both observed that he treated his 12th graders like college students, asking them higher-level questions that required critical, philosophical answers. He told more anecdotes and stories to the 11th-graders, however, and glances around the room saw all the students in rapt attention, sitting on the edge of their seats. I really would like to be that kind of teacher one day!
After classes, Mr. G took the time to talk with me and Ashley, and give us some advice. He tried to explain the importance of teachers understanding the difference between negligence and simple negligence. He explained (from an insider’s administrator’s position) that often administration not familiar with teaching will try to pass the blame to the teachers, and (especially as new teachers) we need to not only document everything, but learn to determine whether we had really done our best. If so, he said to let the blame roll off your shoulders and not get upset. I’m so grateful for his advice, because I could see myself breaking down under pressure and being confused. Hopefully I’ll learn a lot here and be better prepared to face these types of strain.
During Mr. S’s classes, I noticed how wild the kids were. The couples couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and one girl was even painting her nails in class! I know they’ll mope and complain, but I to try to be strict. They’ll probably still trick me, but I will try my best. Not be mean, of course, but try to maintain order. Mr. S told me that he’ll sit down with me today (Thursday) or Friday and go over next week’s lesson plans, and let me start easing into the classroom by backing up his lessons by leading activities. We then attended the high school staff meeting. I’ve always wondered what teacher meetings were like, and wanted to participate. Things went well, and after a get-to-know-each-other, build-working-relationships activity led by the school psychologist, various announcements and concerns were addressed. A (cultural?) concern that received the most heated interaction was that of objects “missing” (probably stolen by security/cleaning staff), which administrators answered by reminding everyone to keep their valuables with them. Mr. S ended the meeting by announcing that it was his last year here as the headmaster, and I was surprised to see how little reaction resulted. Perhaps everyone already knew, but it almost appeared like some were relieved – most did give him a hug or handshake as they left. I may be young and idealistic, but I think that even if I did not agree with someone, after fighting alongside them for a common cause – the education of the kids – I would at least have some level of attachment and regret that they were leaving. Previous work experience showed that I could still be nice to people I didn’t always like and appreciate their strong points.
Ashley and I signed up for lunch duty patrolling the recreation areas outside during 6th period lunch on Thursdays and end-of-the-day duty at the front entrance for Tuesdays. Ashley will be working with the 12th grade group on Oaxaca, and I will be with the 11th graders who represent Saudi Arabia. Mr. G then gave Ashley, Tara, another teacher and I a ride home and a mini-tour of the Santa Fe district, which is very much like Beverly Hills. Today I hope to discuss planning with Mr. S, but if not, I’m learning to be flexible. J Being proactive is good, but sometimes I think you have to do your best and let the responsibility lie on someone else, in order to avoid harassing them.
Sorry I don´t have more pictures yet - I haven't bought batteries yet. When I do, I'll post them.
Yesterday we walked to the metro station from the hotel – we left at 6, got to the metro about 6:15, caught the next train, and were still about 10 minutes early for the Westhill van. I bought cinnamon-sugar coffee from a street vender and paid the gringo price, because I forgot to ask how much it cost – I paid a crazy $2 USD L. Lesson learned, however – and it was really good. I brought my ghetto portable CD player (everyone else had Ipods) and nearly fell asleep on the 35 minute ride to school listening to Arabic love songs. Somehow listening to relaxing music, particularly if I don’t understand it, makes the cultural transition easier. I’m not sure why, but am pondering it.
I spent the first couple of periods writing emails back and forth to Kennesaw, getting advice from my professors and trying to resolve some issues with financial aid and the study abroad office. After a couple of hours writing stressful emails, I sat down and organized my teacher notebook – hole-punching and filing everything till I was satisfied. I know it’s a sign of perfectionism, but I love to clean/organize when I’m frustrated because I feel like I can fix at least one area of my life. Maybe I can use this tendency in my classroom.
I sat in on 2 of Ashley and Mr. G’s classes and observed, once again, his amazing ability to adapt his lessons to the specific needs and abilities of his classes. Ashley and I both observed that he treated his 12th graders like college students, asking them higher-level questions that required critical, philosophical answers. He told more anecdotes and stories to the 11th-graders, however, and glances around the room saw all the students in rapt attention, sitting on the edge of their seats. I really would like to be that kind of teacher one day!
After classes, Mr. G took the time to talk with me and Ashley, and give us some advice. He tried to explain the importance of teachers understanding the difference between negligence and simple negligence. He explained (from an insider’s administrator’s position) that often administration not familiar with teaching will try to pass the blame to the teachers, and (especially as new teachers) we need to not only document everything, but learn to determine whether we had really done our best. If so, he said to let the blame roll off your shoulders and not get upset. I’m so grateful for his advice, because I could see myself breaking down under pressure and being confused. Hopefully I’ll learn a lot here and be better prepared to face these types of strain.
During Mr. S’s classes, I noticed how wild the kids were. The couples couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and one girl was even painting her nails in class! I know they’ll mope and complain, but I to try to be strict. They’ll probably still trick me, but I will try my best. Not be mean, of course, but try to maintain order. Mr. S told me that he’ll sit down with me today (Thursday) or Friday and go over next week’s lesson plans, and let me start easing into the classroom by backing up his lessons by leading activities. We then attended the high school staff meeting. I’ve always wondered what teacher meetings were like, and wanted to participate. Things went well, and after a get-to-know-each-other, build-working-relationships activity led by the school psychologist, various announcements and concerns were addressed. A (cultural?) concern that received the most heated interaction was that of objects “missing” (probably stolen by security/cleaning staff), which administrators answered by reminding everyone to keep their valuables with them. Mr. S ended the meeting by announcing that it was his last year here as the headmaster, and I was surprised to see how little reaction resulted. Perhaps everyone already knew, but it almost appeared like some were relieved – most did give him a hug or handshake as they left. I may be young and idealistic, but I think that even if I did not agree with someone, after fighting alongside them for a common cause – the education of the kids – I would at least have some level of attachment and regret that they were leaving. Previous work experience showed that I could still be nice to people I didn’t always like and appreciate their strong points.
Ashley and I signed up for lunch duty patrolling the recreation areas outside during 6th period lunch on Thursdays and end-of-the-day duty at the front entrance for Tuesdays. Ashley will be working with the 12th grade group on Oaxaca, and I will be with the 11th graders who represent Saudi Arabia. Mr. G then gave Ashley, Tara, another teacher and I a ride home and a mini-tour of the Santa Fe district, which is very much like Beverly Hills. Today I hope to discuss planning with Mr. S, but if not, I’m learning to be flexible. J Being proactive is good, but sometimes I think you have to do your best and let the responsibility lie on someone else, in order to avoid harassing them.
Sorry I don´t have more pictures yet - I haven't bought batteries yet. When I do, I'll post them.
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