Miss Adams… and the potlatch

It is an important week, semester finals. Kids are rushing to get work turned in. Teachers are rushing to grades done and submitted. Now, this is an end to something. I hate endings. I think that beginnings are scary, middles are happy and endings are sad and depressing. And how do Italians cope with sad things like saying goodbye? We eat… actually, we feed the people we are loosing. So! Guess what I am doing this week with my classes? You bet, feeding them. Every class is having a potlatch! I just finished making a huge army size pot of meatballs. Talk about food of love people! School potlatches have a special place in my heart… let me tell you why…

I had an amazing friend when I was in high school. We met our freshman year, right after my family moved from Texas to California. We weren’t friends at first; in fact he made me cry the first time we met. He yelled at me because I was sitting in his seat. And when I say yell, picture your second day of school in a new state (lookin’ like a preppy in the hood) and an angry latino male up in your grill lookin’ like he gonna kill you. Since I was not the tenacious Miss Adams that you now know and love, I avoided him at all cost for several weeks after the incident. I even went as far as to fain illness and go home to avoid being in the same room as him. But he was a nice person, and when he was finally able to catch me, he apologized for what he had done. We were friends from that point on. But my fondest memory of this friend was our 11^th grade class potlatch.

We had made a pact him and me that we would join our school’s restaurant and so in 11^th grade we did. After a year working as cooking partners we had mastered the art of making breakfast sandwiches and burritos, cookies and other delightful Eagle’s Nest delicacies. For our final grade we were assigned to host a class potlatch. I was thrilled! I have always loved to cook, and this was an opportunity to cook what I love and not what I was assigned. I made tortilla soup. We sat at the potlatch for 2 hours eating soup and goodies and talking. And I realized what a special friend I had when I was sitting at that potlatch. There is something special about sharing something you have worked so hard on with people you care about. Sometimes there are no words to say thank you. Sometimes there are no words to tell someone how special they are to you. But food is an art form that let’s us do that.

Miss Independent and Korean Drama Induced Narcolepsy...

So I went to dinner last week with a friend of mine, and there we were enjoying our Korean BBQ when the topic of dating came up proceeded of course by the realization that I am a quarter of a century old. I am closer to 30 than to 20 and I don’t even have a prospect of a love interest at the moment. Now, I am fine with this on a daily bases. I like being able to say that I answer to no man, I go where I want when I want and spend what I want. I travel; I have stamps in my passport. I don’t have to justify my job to anyone. In fact, just start humming independent woman right now and put a picture of me in your head. But it struck me today… I am exhausted from being so independent! I used to be able to watch T.V. without falling asleep, now as soon as the T.V. turns on, I am GONE! It is driving me crazy!!! I just want to watch one show, just one little 30 minute show. Is it possible to develop narcolepsy at 25? I saw this Korean drama once called “Loveholic”, where the main character developed narcolepsy and she falls asleep everywhere she goes, bus stops, work, dates. Is that what is happening to me? Have I watched so many Korean dramas that my life is becoming a mixture of “Star Candy”, “Samsoon” and “Loveholic”? That is it! I think I need so good old American T.V. Is “Lost” still on???

The Miss in Miss Adams is the most important part of the name

So while I was in South America my students were assigned to read Bacon’s “Essays”. Specifically, they had to read “Marriage vs. Single Life”. Now, this is required reading. I didn’t pick it, but some how my kids had the idea that I was sending them a message from Chile through their reading selection. And you better believe that when I checked my email the day after they read the essay, it was filled with messages reminding me that “overseas romances are never a good idea”, “single life fits you, don’t let a man tie you down…”, “boys are bad” and so forth. What happened to I was so old I was near death? I think I might have some students with abandonment issues… But this really made me think, what if I could send subliminal messages to my kids… What if….????

If I could really get subliminal messages through to my students they would go something like this…

1. Pee before you come to class…because, no you will not get a pass…

2. Bring a sweater, because Miss Adams doesn’t care how cold you are… wear a full shirt for that matter, then she won’t have to write you up for a dress code violation…

3. Bring Miss Adams a Twix… or a Double Shot from Starbucks…

4. Miss Adams doesn’t care why you are late; you still have to check in at the front desk…

5. Miss Adams is not your mom, so stop asking her for money… and STOP trying to hug her…

Transcendentalism…

Transcendentalism – Basically this was a movement in American literature rebelling against the norms or religious thinking, social and urban life.

Here is what teaching transcendentalism to teenagers is like….

Day 1: Students went on a nature tour of the campus. Really what this means is that we walked to one of the two grass areas on campus, just 50 feet from the classroom, right next to the parking lot. I set them loose with their journals and this topic, “what natural objects do you see?”. It really is sad when kids think that cars, basketballs and benches are natural objects. “Grass people, think grass! Not that kind of grass, school appropriate grass!”

Day 2: Students are given examples of nature and as a class we discuss how we as individuals are similar to objects found in nature. “Miss Adams, what do you mean I’m like a cloud? I’m not a fluffy!”, “Jorge looks like a puppy”, “No I don’t… hey can I borrow your mirror?”, “I’m a pineapple”, “Why?”, “…ummm….do I have to have a reason?”

Day 3: “Okay, I think we have all had enough so let’s wrap this up. Pick one natural item that you have things in common with, draw a picture and write 2 paragraphs explaining the item and your similarity to it.” ….

“Miss Adams?”

“Yes?”

“Can I go outside and get a leaf to help me draw?”

“Sure”

And thus students were sent out to collect nature and bring it back to draw. Now there will always be one student who thinks outside of the box. And my students like to think WAY outside of the box.

Student 1: “Can we go out to get some nature?”

Adams: “If you’re gone more than 5 minutes, I’m calling security to get you”.

Student 2: “We’ll be really quick, don’t worry”

3 minutes pass and I am standing with my back to the window of my classroom when all of a sudden a student yells out, “ADAMS LOOK”. I turn, unsure of what is behind me, when I see students 1 and 2 walking up to my door with their nature. Nature apparently to them involved ripping a 5 foot tall branch off a tree and completely uprooting an elephant plant. I stopped them at the door taking the branch, and trying not to laugh as student 1 attempts to hide the plant he is carrying.

Adams: “What is that?”

Student 1: “I don’t know what you are talking about”, as he places the 3 foot high plant in the trash can behind him.

Adams: “Put it back, where ever you got it, put it back”

I look to the right to see how it was possible that two students could make it all the way across campus with half a tree and an entire plant. There I see the campus security guards laughing hysterically and pointing at me. I burst into laughter myself. What do you do in that situation? The elephant plant was replanted, the tree branch ended up being used in my class’ red ribbon week door décor, and then the students in question were “talked to” about the “appropriate” application of transcendentalism. Thankfully there the principle and vice principle were at a meeting and did not witness the events. However, the stand in admin was watching the entire thing on the video cameras. As I stood at my door during the passing period I was approached by the stand in admin and asked if I needed any shovels. And for that matter, he told me that he would lend me the strongest boys on campus. “Why?” I asked. “Well I thought you might want that tree over there for your project”, he remarked as he pointed at a 50 foot tree. HA HA HA. Better yet were the security guards who came into my room looking for missing trees and campus plants for the next week.

Transcendentalism…

Age is just a number…with very little meaning and no absolution.

Sometimes I wonder if the generation that I work with has ever seen the movie “Bambie”. Because if they have, I think they have missed one of the essential lessons that movie seeks to teach young children. One smart reared child in my class decided that I am an old maid and that I am nearly past the years of child bearing. She told me, not just that I was old, but that I was *$%@ing old. REALLY? Since when is 25 *$%@ing old? What would possess you, to make you think that saying something like that was okay? So here's to you... I think i may hang an "old people crossing" sign up in my room, since I am so near death and didn't even realize it.

Red Ribbon Week and an Attempt of Conqure a Small but Meaningful Portion of the World

Alright, let’s chat… it’s been a while. It is my DUTY to humankind to spread the word of Red Ribbon Week. However, there is an irony in Red Ribbon Week here at my school. Red Ribbon Week at a continuation school is like throwing a baby shower at an abortion clinic, completely ironic. I mean hello, everything I learned about drugs was here, from my kids.

But I really wanted to take this as an opportunity to do something worthwhile as a teacher, and thankfully I am getting the chance. It was decided that teachers could use forced child labor (otherwise known as class participation) to decorate their door for RRW with the hopes of winning a party for their class. And much to my pleasure 4^th period was the chosen group to do this. I love my fourth period class. It is a tiny group of kids, which for the most part make my whole day better. No matter how bad things might be, my fourth period always makes me feel like everything I go through is worth it, because I have them. And I have struggled this year to connect with the new group coming in, but these kids are a gift. But anyway… let me get back to the point RRW.

Our mission is to pick a theme and decorate our door. I was thrilled with this competition. Really any competition has my name written all over it. Any chance to conquer a small portion of the world and I am all over it. But to top it off I get to conquer a small portion of the world with my beloved fourth period! Who could ask for more? But much to my dismay, not so many of the other staff members were as thrilled as myself. So how to fix that… put them on blast during the announcements and call them pansies of course! Needless to say sending out “don’t be chicken” and “make my win worth the work” emails went far.

We have a good portion of the staff decorating doors now. But I will just say this; my kids have this in the bag. I will spare no expense, I will pull everything physical and monetary resource I have. Why? Not just because I love to win… but because I never realized how excited my kids would be with the project. They have brought ideas and talent and joy to the competition. I’m really proud of them. And we will relish in the tears of the classes who perish in the luminescence of our splendor!

Oh Yeah...

Teacher of the month... ME!!!! Next step, total world domination=)