Not even, Teacher

Tomorrow is Pajama Day at school.  Will I be wearing pajamas?  I don't think so.  When I was explaining this to a few of my students, a little girl (who I have never seen before) walked by, threw up her palm and said "Please, you look good in pajamas."

My 6th grade student, Mariella, wrinkled her nose and said, "How do YOU know?" to the much younger girl.

She looked me up and down and said, "'Cause she's a woman.  Duh."  then walked away.

Something that will never cease to weird me out is the fact that every student at school knows who I am and wants a piece of me, that is, of course, except for the ones that I'm assigned to tutor.  These kids, MY kids, roll their eyes when I come in and mutter, "Come ON, Teacher, I don't want to bring my whole backpack," or "Not even, Teacher, I not lying."

Other students, however, students who I don't know, have never spoken to, and have never even been around, beg me to take them.  Little girls will squirm around in their seats and ask me when it's their turn (all I want to do is reply, "Well?  Are you literate?  Because if so, you're out of luck).  Others will tell me how pretty I am ("Your eyes is like...green..and brown...and gold?"), how they like my nose ring, how they love the way I draw.  It's flattering, but incredibly weird.

Little boys I don't tutor will hug-attack me on the way out, while my own students can't wait to get away from me and my flash cards.  

Weirdos.

On a related note, last week was Halloween and there was no hope of tutoring.  Friday was basically a day off, while still having to be there.  We watched the kinderkids parade around in the morning to the Monster Mash.  I'd say about 70% of them were Iron Man, while the rest were Witch Ballerinas.  In the afternoon the rest of the grades had their own Halloween Parade.  I have NEVER seen so many Scream masks.  Instead of tutoring my after-school kids like usual, we just made ghosts out of white construction paper and I fed them little packs of Goldfish.  Big Mistake.

Apparently, Goldfish to 3rd grade boys has the same kind of effect as crack cocaine.  Everyday since then they've been asking me when I'll bring more Goldfish, hopping around and telling me how delicious and necessary they are to their learning environment.

Weiiirddooos.

But I love them.

Earthquake drill today!  Note the photo of my partner hiding under a table, also the photo of the command center on the playground, headed up by the office ladies in hard hats.  

The photo of the whiteboard that reads " I like pizza and juice" was written by my favorite student (even though I probably shouldn't have one, he is 100% my favorite part of the day), Daniel.  He is in one of my kindergarten classes and he cracks me up everyday.  He is always very concerned about where I go when I leave his class, "You going home, Mary Kafte?"  and he also makes the most poignant, hilarious observations about the classroom and things we learn about, "Reggie rooster, he have glasses?  Why he have glasses?"  

The pumpkin pictures are from my after school kids.  The kids don't have art, PE or a real music class so I like to do art with them on Fridays.  So far we've made fall foliage trees, these pumpkins, and tomorrow we're making wicked witches.

M.I.A.

It's been a long time.  But, it's been a stressful month.  I'm finally kind of used to working at school.  I wake up at 6:30, to be at school by 8.  I stay until 5.  I spend all my time scolding, bribing kids with promises of prizes, and putting together last minute lesson plans.  It's high stress, incredibly draining, and incredibly rewarding.

Within a few days, my attitude towards school changed.  The first few weeks, I had no idea how to handle the kids.  I started out wanting to be their friend, and they immediately figured they could walk all over me.  Then I started pulling the Mean Teacher card when necessary (i.e. "Humberto, if you think this behavior is going to earn you a sticker on the prize chart, then you're in for a BIG surprise, my friend,").

So I've found a delicate balance between the two.  And it works.  I want the kids to understand that I like spending time with them, but I'm also a teacher and they have to respect me.  Things are slowly starting to change.  Especially after school.

After school we pull kids out of their program to do homework help.  At first, they resisted, and were constantly lying to me, saying "Teacher, I don't got no homework.  For real."  But as of recently, they've slowly stopped lying to me and started pulling out their homework and asking for help.  It's a good feeling to know that they seem to trust me.  I think for a lot of these kids, asking for help from an adult is a big, big concession.  

Last week I got my first picture drawn for me, and I felt like my heart was going to burst.  As much as these kids exhaust and frustrate me, I really love them.  

Point Lobos.

Busybee

My God. This week has been nuts. And it's only Wednesday. I quit. Jokes, jokes. This week started with a trip to the Monterey Greek Festival on Sunday afternoon.  We drank Greek beer and ate too much spanakopita (nomnomnom, I'm thinking about it right now) and watched old people dance.  It was lovely, but also served as a reminder that I've been drinking too much here.

Monday a bunch of us woke up for an early morning hike at Point Lobos, a big state park just south of Monterey. We left Marina around 8 and hiked around for hours.  The central coast is such a bizarro place.  The weather changes literally from minute to minute, and there's no telling what it'll be like.  In the time we were at Point Lobos, it started out chilly but sunny, then the fog crept in around 10 am, covering EVERYTHING.  Then it would fade out, then in, then it would be sunny and hot.  It's crazy here!  Worse than New England.  You can't plan for any weather, you just have to wear 7 layers at all times.  After Point Lobos we headed to a nearby beach and all dozed for a while.  That was probably the most lovely nap I've ever had.  Lovely lovely.  I'll post some pictures next.

Later we headed to Carmel, because our group dad, Blake, had to go to his favorite fancy cheese shop where we sampled cheese that was too expensive for me.  

TUESDAY was the big big day where we started at our school sites.  Fellow Americorps member, Emily, and I were sent to Los Padres in Salinas where, so far, we've been giving the BPST, a phonic exam to first through third graders.  Hopefully soon we'll find out what classes we'll be assigned to, and what kids we will have.  Even just doing these little reading tests is making me excited to meet my kids.  They're all cute.  The only problem is how very white and suburban I am.  The vast, vast, vast majority of the kids are hispanic, mostly Mexican, and while I can keep up with my fair share of their names, some of them go so far over my head.  Ximena?  Diayanara?  Uriel?  I don't speak any spanish, so for me, the pronunciation is just not quite there.  I feel like such a goof asking a first grader to read one of their classmates names out loud for me.  They give me this look like, "Really, teacher?  You can't say that?" 

That's another thing, they're so cute.  They call every adult, regardless of what you do, "Teacher".  And they look at me like I'm some sort of heavenly being, sent down just to smile at them.  I love little kids.

Anyway, gotsta go, my roommate is making us do ab exercises with him.  Yikes!  Pictures soon.

Big Sur, why you gotta be like that?

This week has been a blur of emergency training, literacy training, and a lot, lot of wine.  Americorps knows how to have a good time.

Last weekend a bunch of us Marina folks drove to Big Sur for a little hike down to the water.  Big Sur is amazing.  However, as the driver on the highway, I felt a little uncomfortable looking at the sights too much.  The last thing I need is for the Suzuki to go careening off a cliff.  But regardless, those twisty, turvy, steep roads are amazingly beautiful.  Like nothing you would find on the east coast.  We spent the night at the International Film Festival at the Henry Miller Library, which is like a hippy version of a library.  Meaning, there really aren't any books, but just a big yard with sculptures and christmas lights.  And, of course, an itty bitty bookstore with a bathroom plastered with oddly sexual reading material.

The rest of the week consisted mostly of training, including one awful, awful hangover day (all of us.  ALL OF US) where we worked in a garden for six hours after sleeping for far less than that.  Last night us ladies went to Monterey to go on a man hunt which proved unsuccessful and really messy.  In the end we found our Americorps boys, and had a big ol' sloppy dance party at the next bar.  I'm pretty sure everyone woke up this morning feeling embarrassed, and a little confused.  You're lying if you didn't.  

So for now, I'm going to take it easy on the booze and the bars and the babes.  I think I'll just never learn.  As Halbert pointed out via fb, "Never again.  Until next time."

Some photos from open mic night at East Village Coffee Lounge, featuring the lovely Lillie Lemon, and the historical society.  Note Rosie the Gladiator Bear rug.

Yum yum, food bank!

The last time we spoke, I was having a minor breakdown about my new adopted city.  Since then, things have improved.  Sunday night a few of the second year Americorp members threw a party in our neighborhood, which immediately calmed me down.  Meeting other people who were having all of the same anxieties definitely helped.  

Tuesday we started our two weeks of trainings, beginning with a TB test (fun!) that left my forearm pretty black and blue, but tuberculosis free!  We have learned how to report suspected child abuse, how to break down words into phonemes and sounds them out to our students, and the historical roots of Monterey County.  Today we spent the morning at the county food bank handing out food to the people of Salinas.  I was elbow deep in bags of fruit, trying to understand all of the spanish that was being directed at me.  It made me really excited for our spanish classes to start.  And to top it off, we were sent home with boxes and boxes of produce (and orange soda, for some reason).

The weather here is crazy.  It can be 60 degrees and overcast in Marina, and we'll all head to work bundled in sweaters.  By the time we get to Salinas it's sunny and warm, the pickers are out in the strawberry fields and we're heading into the County Office of Education for orientation. 

We have the weekend off, but tomorrow all us Americorps are heading to Chualar for a dinner party at the home of the boss of our boss.  I hear they bottle their own wine, so I'm looking forward to it.  

Soledad Mission, Soledad, CA.

Some snap shots of the trip so far.

Welcome to Marina, I hope you like tumbleweeds.

This is officially my first post from California.  We landed in San Francisco Thursday night around 10:30, meaning I was barely stumbling conscious before we settled into a hotel near the airport and I passed out.  Friday morning we drove down Route 1 (do they even call them routes on this side of the country?  I feel so foreign) to Marina and stopped at every cliff, surf spot, and farm stand to gobble produce and take pictures.  

Beautiful?  Yeah, I think so.  We also stopped at this amazing berry stand, which felt more like a berry co-op or something called Swanton Berry Farm.  Here they had all the berry-like yums you could ever want or imagine.  Denise forced us to eat a dark chocolate strawberry truffle, which just about made my life.  Nom Nom.  You could pick your own berries (just like at home!), and everything was self serve!  You even made your own change.  Can you believe the trust these Californians have?  There was even this neat tin-can mobile home that housed a little shop run by the organization SLOWCOAST.  

As you can probably gather, the drive down was really, really beautiful and it had me feeling good about this move.  In June I was accepted into Americorps in Monterey Bay, and I never had any doubts about it.  I applied because I wanted to go, and I accepted without hesitation because I absolutely wanted to go!  It wasn't until I set foot in Marina that I started immediately missing Boston and feeling like I was spiraling out of control.  As grown up and responsible as I had been feeling this whole trip so far, as soon as we pulled of highway 1 into Marina (my new town) I felt my heart drop and all I wanted to do was hold my mom's hand.  

For starters, Marina is not what I was expecting.  I had been to Monterey before when I was a kid, and I think that's more what I was expecting.  Marina, as close as it is to Monterey, is kind of like swallowing water down the wrong pipe.  Apparently, it used to be an old army base during WWII, but closed in 1994.  In 1995, CalState Monterey Bay opened.  So, imagine a desert, then plop down some abandoned army housing all over the place, some scattered university buildings, and of course, Walmart.  This is Marina.  I have a feeling that it's going to grow on me, and I already have an urge to go on a photo adventure through the old army buildings.  I know it'll be great, and it'll be an awesome, different experience.  It's just tough to swallow at first.  After living in Cambridge for four years, it's hard to imagine living in, what feels like, the middle of nowhere.  But, I have high hopes.

I know that as soon as the program starts I'll feel better.  And as soon as my car shows up, and my boxes of homey things start to slowly filter into Marina, I'll feel more in control.  For now, I'm still a little homesick.  And I really miss you.  Already.

Because I'm feeling nervous, and I can do anything good.

Here We Go.

Tonight is my last night on the east coast.  Tomorrow I fly to California to begin a year with Americorps in Monterey County.  After a week filled with vegan buffets, hefeweizens, roof parties and teary-eyed goodbyes, I moved out of my Inman Square apartment yesterday and headed up to my parents' house in New Hampshire.  Today we drove down to the North Shore to have a final dinner with my brother and his girlfriend, and tomorrow we fly out of Logan to San Francisco.  Whew.  It's been quite the week of pushing mattresses down three flights of stairs and long drives.