Who am I? Friday: Successes

For those who do not know me, I am a special educator in a general education high school. My students with disabilities are included in regular education classrooms. And by this, I mean fully included - all subjects, phys. ed. and all extracurricular activities. I am currently co-teaching 11th grade English, US History and Chemistry.

Yesterday, at my subject area meeting, the teachers were asked to share some successes that we have had this year. I have had three great successes this year. For confidentiality purposes, I have changed their names.

Success #1

I had a student, whom we will call Bob, that was classified as emotional disturbance. As a child, Bob had difficulty controlling his anger and his emotions. He threw chairs, cursed out teachers, and had a general lack of respect for any type of authority. As he grew older, these displays of inappropriate behavior diminished but it was evident from various assessments that his learning was severely impacted.

Last November, he wanted out of special education. I tried to reason with him and convince him to keep the services for at least one more year. Bob said "NO! I should not be punished for the rest of my life for mistakes I committed in my past. I am a bird and I want to fly!" Well, we decertified and his parting words were, "I'm gonna prove you wrong, Miss." I am happy to say that he did prove me wrong. Not only is Bob doing well in all his classes without support, he is excelling on all the predictive state assessments. Needless to say, I cried, hugged him, apologized and told him he was absolutely right!

Success #2

I have a student, Brian, who was absent for about 50% of his 9th grade year and 60% of his 10th grade year. Now in his 11th grade year, he decided to make a change. Brian asked me for support in all of the classes in which I co-teach. I give him encouragement when he feels he just can't do it anymore. I provide him coping strategies for when he feels like giving up and I give him guidance when he feels unsure about himself. Yesterday, I told Brian, "You are one of my successes this year and I made sure every 11th grade teacher knew it. I praised all of your hard work and your improved attendance. Keep it up!" He smiled from ear to ear and had a little pep in his step when he walked into my US History class. When I shared this with my co-teacher, I cried yet again.


Success #3

This one is dear to my heart. I have a student, Bill, who has a learning disability. He has difficulty reading grade level text, deficits in reading comprehension and challenges transcribing his thoughts in writing. Bill did absolutely no work from September to December. From what my colleagues have shared, Bill has a difficult home life and it affected his ability to concentrate in school. However, in February, Bill began to attempt writing tasks, he was more vocal (he has a lovely deep baritone voice) during class discussions and he began volunteering for roles in collaborative activities. My co-teacher and I attribute this to the 11th grade Washington DC trip where the students visited various colleges. He saw himself sitting in the lecture hall and envisioned himself a success. It makes a difference when a student can see him or herself in a positive environment and becoming successful.

I told Bill that I was so proud of him. I explained to him that I noticed the improvement in his work and the progress he was making in credit accumulation. I suggested that he explore radio internships since he had a great voice and a presence that made people stop when he spoke. He smiled, blushed and said, "Miss, I won't fail you." Again, I cried and hugged him.

Upon reflection, I didn't do anything special that other teachers have not already done. However, it takes just a positive remark and letting someone know that you care and feel that they are worth something. Pass along a kind word to someone today and help facilitate that person to blossom.

I am feeling so good that I have crazily joined the BuNoWriMo! :D

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

I'm INVINCIBLE!!!

[and if you have been properly initiated, you know the next line... say it with me...]

“You're a loony...”


Whereby I explore life without limitations...


Extreme Work

This happens when you have a massive deadline (read: National Institute of Health grant due next week), an employee quits and so a new one has to be hired (which means hiring two—a temp and then the one for the long haul), TWO manuscripts are accepted PENDING REVISIONS, and the special interest group of which you are secretary needs coordinating... GADS!



Extreme HOME

This happens when the home's homemaker gets a fully time job so a full time worker (read: me) becomes a full time mom on top of being a full time writer. *cough* including such atrocities as COOKING and SHOPPING (did you hear me gag at the word shopping?) and remembering we have pets and children!

Extreme Writing

JALO BuNoWriMo!!! In the first seven days I averaged more than 3000 words EVERY DAY. It's a CRAZY pace. It's been pretty easy—the story is flowing... but time consuming (and pretty much the only thing I'm not complaining about doing).


Now... if you truly aspire to lunacy invincibility, try all three TOGETHER.


It's that simple.


And HA! Whereby you get two blogs for the price of one, or... we eat crow for no writing blog yesterday... did you SEE that clever segue? We are going from BuNoWriMo as INSANITY to BuNoWriMo as a WRITING project?! Nice, eh?

Erm... or not...


The Beauty of a WriMo

I think it's the adrenaline... no the camaraderie... no the adrenaline... no the camaraderie... Man, I LOVE the group writing thing... the encouragement, the buzz... and I love to write like that... no holds barred. It is the best way, in my opinion, to crank out a first draft. I am prone to all these tangents otherwise...

It ALSO serves as a fabulous double deadline. DOUBLE, you ask?  Well sure... you have to tie up your OTHER stuff before you can START, and you have to tie up THIS first draft in a month.

But as a GROUP project, it is going GREAT. A couple people are past 20K words (including me, you may have guessed)... a couple have set alternate writing goals, Mari and Leanne are even co-writing, which has been very amusing to watch as they bat their story back and forth... a couple are getting started late--which is fine, we're easy...

But there have been discussions that help a lot of people. And there has been so much encouragement. It really has been fabulous. Now if someone were to start today, they'd need to write 2,272 words a day, which is a lot, but it could be DONE... so if you think you might wanna... Join us!

Education for All - Falling through the Cracks

Eleven year old Kalimuddin's family migrated to the city of Kanpur to escape griding poverty in their village in North East India. Though they were willing to work hard, ragpicking was the only job which his parents could find. The family lives in makeshift housing near the garbage dumping grounds, and spends their entire day sifting through the garbage to find things that can be re-cycled. Kalimuddin's day begins at 5 am, when he is at the dumping ground going through the garbage to find anything that can be re-used, re-cycled or re-sold. At ten, Kalimuddin had never stepped into a school- there were no schools in his locality, and even if there were, he was too busy working to think of an education.

Kalimuddin was only mildly interested when an informal education center was opened in his community. What convinced him to enroll in the "Apna Skool" was the fact that the classes were being conducted in the afternoon after he ended his working day. He is now so passionate about going to school, that even after his family was forced to relocate to a different locality, he continues to cycle 4.5 miles to get to school, and even ferries other younger kids to school and back.

Nine year old Arthi is enrolled in grade 5 in the local government school in her village of Amirthapuram in Tamil Nadu. Though she is a regular student, who wants to learn, a year back, she was struggling with her classes because of the poor quality of teaching in her school. She could barely read simple words, and struggled to subtract double digit numbers. Arthi is the name behind the statistics thrown up in an independent study conducted on the state of learning in India - "While 99.5% children between 6-10 years of age attend primary school in the state of Tamil Nadu, more than 50% of them cannot read a simple story or subtract 2-digit numbers."

Arthi was one of the lucky ones. Her problem was spotted and she was enrolled in a remedial learning program. Today, not only has she mastered her numbers and letters, she helps other students learn the 247 syllables of the challenging Tamil-language alphabet.

Nine year old Anuj belongs to the Musahar (rat-eating) community, which has been officially notified as a "criminal community" by the Government. Though enrolled in a local school, he was discriminated against, and not allowed to attend classes with the 'higher caste' children. His widowed mother was contemplating pulling him, and this three siblings, out of school because she could not think beyond the squalid conditions in which the family had lived for centuries.

Anuj was lucky enough to be noticed by a school that offered him free education in their residential school in Patna. Anuj is now doing extremely well in school, and dreams of studying engineering in one of the top institutions in the country.

In theory, the Government of India guarantees the 'Right to Education' of every child. In reality, millions of children like Kalimuddin, Arthi and Anju manage to slip through the cracks for a host of reasons.

Drive through rural India, and the largest building in almost every village is the government primary school. Unfortunately, almost all these buildings are deserted, because few teachers, if any, choose to show up, and parents see no point in sending their children to schools where there are no teachers. In the evening, in the same villages, you find dozens of children crowded into tiny sheds which double up as private 'coaching classes'. Parents who can afford to do so send their children to these classes, often conducted by the teachers who employed to teach in the government schools, the rest of the children end up dropping out of the system.

Though it is illegal to do so, in both rural and urban schools, teachers discriminate on the basis of caste, creed, religion and gender. Students belonging to the lower castes are often forced to sit so far away from the teacher that they cannot hear what is being taught in class. Once these children drop out of school, it is almost impossible to get them back into the system.

The education system in India is stacked against girls. Many girls, especially in larger families, are often forced to drop out of school so they can tend to younger siblings while the mother goes out to work. Girls who escape that fate, are often forced to drop out of school after they attain puberty because most government schools lack proper sanitation facilities. Across the country, non-profits have found that the immediate effect of constructing toilet blocks is a drastic increase in female attendance, yet school buildings continue to be built without adequate facilities.

There is a large population of migrant laborers which spends six to nine months in the cities, and returns to their villages during the harvest season. Since there is little or no standardization in curriculum across schools, the children of these families are never enrolled in any school.

Is there a solution? Organizations working in the field will say there are. Is the Government listening?

Without Reading Monday

Reading, you say? But, aren't we writing this month..?

Okay... So I joined the club. The "Oh, bugger, was it my turn to write a blog post today?"-club. I could give you a million reasons why I forgot - many of which also explains why I've "forgotten" to post at my own blog for a while (and the last time I did, it was a pretty sorry excuse for a post). I could mention the distraction of Tokyo (I'm back in love with this city). The slight discomfort I still feel whenever there is an earthquake (but they are fewer and smaller now, so it isn't much of an excuse, really). The fact that I've been working 12 hour days more often than I care to mention lately. The "aren't we writing"-comment above...

Since today is Reading Monday, however, the most appropriate excuse of all is this one: I haven't been reading all that much lately.

Well, that's only partially true. I've been reading lots about the UN Millennium Development Goals, from which I've been reminded that there are a lot of people out there who are worse off than me. Their problem isn't that they don't have the time to read, it is that they cannot read. MDG #2 - universal education (including girls, which shouldn't have to be specified, but in fact has to) - still has a long way ahead before the target is reached. As with the other MDGs, many countries are making great efforts and great results are achieved, but  there still is a lot left to do globally. "Scaling up" was a recurring topic for the conference I attended on this before the weekend. In order to reach the goals by 2015 - which at the moment isn't looking too likely - we need to work harder, better, more united. Perhaps there isn't all that much you can do as an individual, but at least you can take ten minutes out of your day and read the fact sheet where you at least can educate yourself about what has been, and what remains to be done. Universal education, y'all.

I have also been reading about international trade restrictions, national (both Norwegian and Japanese) hunting legislation, Japanese energy policies, financial targets and domestic politics (which is a bit of a thriller - or perhaps soap opera).

I've been reading a lot into things. Like emotions. If you have never been an ex-pat, you might not know the feeling of the relationships that develop in a community where everyone has different cultural backgrounds, a general open mind for new things (hence the living abroad-part..), and they are there on a limited time basis. I've met some of the greatest people I know in the world this way. Many of which I have not been in contact with for years. You see, in the bubble that is ex-pat-ness you form strong, amazing, temporary relationships. A very limited amount of them last beyond the bubble - in these days facilitated by Facebook, email, and Skype. But many of these relationships are so tied to the specific situation when they are formed that they cannot exist outside of that, and that is fine. I don't value them any less. But it does make for some confusing human interaction. Trying to read my own and everybody else's mind in all of this is (un)surprisingly difficult.

Finally, I have actually been reading fiction. Barely. My Kindle (which needs to be charged, come to think of it) is a good travel buddy, and when I do have the time to sit down and read some, I'm grateful I have a library at my hands through a few clicks. My latest buy was Game of Thrones, which I quite like so far, even if I realize it is absolutely pointless to read it. After all, I've been watching the HBO series, and it sticks very close to the book. Apart from changing the age of certain characters (to make it less controversial, I would assume), they haven't changed much. And the series have some truly gorgeous costumes, scenery and actors.

So these are the very good reasons why writing about reading wasn't on my mind today. I hope you forgive me...

Who? Don't You Mean What?

Way Too Much...

Yup, it may be 'Who Am I? Friday, but it definitely should be 'What The Heck Am I Doing? Friday'. It's 10:15 am, I've been awake for a mere twenty minutes (I had a lie-in for once), and I suddenly remembered that it was my turn to write today's post. Erk.


That's not so bad - usually I leave everything until the last minute anyway, so it's not unusual - but this isn't the only window I have open on my laptop. As well as Blogger, I have two Word documents open. One of them is my BuNoWriMo novel, awaiting four thousand shiny new words today as I have to catch up from yesterday, and the other is a document titled 'Spartans 2 - Pirates of the Sparrebean' (don't ask). Then I have another Blogger window open so that I can skim through a few blogs that I'm following, and also because I'd really like to post on my main blog today because I know nothing will be added over the weekend, plus I want to try and post a couple of times a week this month at the very least.

And if four windows wasn't enough, then how about five? Obviously I need to have Facebook open so that my procrastinating urges are covered. *nods*

And this is me. Trying to do too many things at once, as usual. It's not so much biting off more than I can chew, it's more a case still trying to bite because the chunk is too big. I don't know why I do it to myself, I really don't. I mean, I know I'm going to get into trouble if I promise to do too much, but I still go ahead and promise anyway. And with my avoiding issues and dithering tendencies, you would think that I would have learned my lesson by now.

But no, here I am hastily putting a ramble together for today's blog, and I shall be moving on to my Word documents next. Technically I should really concentrate on my BuNoWriMo story first, but I have a feeling that the Spartans file will suck me in as I have the story floating in my head and it will only take a couple of thousand words to get it done.

Then again, I'm still half asleep, so Bejeweled Blitz is a good option for spending a few mindless minutes trying to wake my brain up. Or maybe Vegas Nights. Or possibly Undersea Treasure Slots.

*shifty*

Yup, that's me. Too many things to do, and far too many distractions to tempt me.


Image borrowed from here.

Oz? I don't THINK so...

I'm writing this post Wednesday night - there is a major light show going on outside, complete with celestial percussion section, heavy rain, and tornado watches/warnings/whatever they are. Which got me to thinking, if a tornado did pick up my house and whirl it away, would Oz really be my preferred destination?

I'm thinking not. For starters, there are NO DRAGONS in Oz. Seriously? You have Munchkins and Winkies and flying effing monkeys, but no dragons? This is a major problem. So's the desert of killer sand that surrounds the place. And the wicked witches (have enough of those in my real life, thanks). Lions and tigers and bears, oh no... I think I'll head for some other fantasy land, if you don't mind.

In my personal over-the-rainbow, first of all it should never, ever, get above 70 F. Maybe 72, if it's cloudy. Mornings? Yeah, those are for sleeping, none of this early bird rubbish. Dragons, as previously mentioned; those are a must. And kitties and otters and hedgehogs (those should talk, while we're at it, just for the hell of it, though they don't need to do my laundry or anything). Lots of open spaces, and climbable trees, and absotively posilutely ginormous libraries which won't yell at you if you take their books up into the trees. Coffee is the official beverage, nobody's ever heard of cellulite, there are definitely no rude customers, and as for money, screw that. This is the land of plenty, damnit, and there sure as hell is no need for health insurance. Chocolate, damn, almost forgot that... ooh, and avocados, but not cilantro.

Hmmm. The storm seems to have passed. No tornadoes. And it's dark, so no rainbows either. Well, so much for that idea... Guess I'll be seeing you all in this reality again after all!

Image: from the 1st edition (1900)

writing writing writing

As some of you who follow my blog, Jan Morrison, may know, I got a virus in my computer while simultaneously getting a virus in my self. Thus I have spent the last two days in my pyjamas drinking ginger ale (Sussex Golden - the most divine form of the elixir). And the Sweet Patootie fixed most of the computer nightmare.

I did manage to read a book. I like what happens when you read books in the transcendent state of illness. The book I read was Among the Bohemians by Virginia Nicholson (daughter of Quentin Bell, writer; granddaughter of Vanessa Bell, painter; grand-niece of Virginia Woolf, writer). This is a wonderful book as it explores the real life of the people who chose to live outside of society from 1900 to 1939. I've long been interested in the likes of Dylan Thomas, of Roger Fry, Rebeca West, of artists and writers in Parisian garrets, living on canned sardines and free love. And Nicholson does it wonderfully. She divides the book up into very curious chapters - the first on money (or the dreadful lack of it) and others on love and sex, the children of Bohemia, the household details, cleaning (or the dreadful lack of it), clothing, travel et al. It was a delight and just amusing enough to not be too bothersome to a fluish mind.
Although these folks did what we hippies did to a great extent - only earlier and without bell bottoms - the women had one thing going against them. Nearly all middle class types at that time had servants, but the Bohemians eschewed such things. And guess who took up the slack (imagine a question mark here as I've lost those to the virus). Here is Katherine Mansfield complaining about being a skivvy to John Middleton Murry, when what she wants to do is to get at her writing:

I hate hate hate doing these things that you accept just as all men accept of their women...I walk about with a mind full of ghosts of saucepans and primus stoves and 'Will there be enough to go round'...and you calling (whatever I am doing) 'Tig, isn't there going to be tea It's five o'clock' as though I were a dilatory housemaid.
I loathe myself, today. I detest this woman who 'superintends' you and rushes about, slamming doors and slopping water - all untidy with her blouse out and her nails grimed. I am disgusted and repelled by the creature that shouts at you, 'You might at least empty the pail and wash out the tea-leaves!' Yes, no wonder you 'come over silent'.
....All the fault of money, I suppose.

Was it, I wonder (question mark) Or was it just that old thing (question mark) You know. That same old thing. I'm blessed, absolutely blessed. I have a guy who does as much as I do about the house, who cooks and washes floors and is sweet to boot (well, not sweet to boot, you know what I mean - really should get a handle on these commas!). And still...and still the cheese wrappers are out and the compost needs to be emptied and well, we have NO servants. Do you all remember that song by Neil Young 'a man needs a maid' QUESTION MARK Maybe it is that writers and artists and other worthy bohemians need a maid, or a manservant (nudge nudge Tartlette) who will take care of thingies while we work.

I know I do. Just for a week or two. Or I need a place where nothing much happens, no kids, dogs, chicks, or men. Just writer nuns like I aspire to be. And question marks would be nice too, not that I'm complaining mind you.