Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda

Before, this lesson was just an idea.

After a long trip to the grocery trip where I picked up 17 different types of candy and shoved them into paper bags labeled as "Mystery Bags", it become a day's lesson. Here are their finished posters with 3 similes and 3 metaphors about their mystery treats...

Mystery Treat Reese's peanut butter cup

Mystery Treat: Chocolate gold coins

Mystery Treat: Lifesaver gummies

Verdict: This lesson was much too short to impart any deep meaning upon students. Like all quickies, it just wasn't worth all the trouble.

I should've gone thorough review of similes and metaphors before giving students any supplies. Also should've given students a rubric to check their poster for correct similes and metaphors.

That would've helped students correct their mistakes instead of sheepishly presenting their posters while other students noted the mistakes.

It could've been better. Next year.

Hello Muse

There are so many moments in a day, most of them passing by like the debris in a goldminer's pan. It's often the smallest, seeming insignificant specks that ends up staying and turning out to be a glint of gold.

I was snaking in between rows of students' desks, stamping their homework, when I noticed this displayed on the front a student's binder:

I giggled upon reading this and couldn't stop myself from nerdily stating, "That's a metpahor."

As I walked away, my mind started drifting and I computed:

cupcakes = sweets

cupcakes > muffins = metaphors

and thereby

sweets=metaphors

A riddle game with metaphors and similes! I'll call it Sweet Treats! (The name of the game needs some work if anyone has ideas).

By the time I reached my desk I had envisioned:

1. Paper bags filled with different candies- starbursts, mini reese's cups, lemonheads, airhead, etc.

2. Students partnering up and being handed a paper bag with a sweet treat inside. Students making a poster with 3 similes and 3 metaphors about the mystery treat, illustrating it as well.

3. Then presenting their posters to the class and the class guessing the treat solely based on the 6 given similes and metaphors. For every mystery treat the class guesses, the class earning a point. And by the end of the day, the class that has earned the most points winning ALL of the treats in the paper bags.

That means this Friday's P.A.T. is covered. The kids will be happy and learning, there'll be a great prize giveaway, and it's all thanks to a sticker on a student's binder.

A Girl Named M.-Part 2

I mentioned M earlier, and after finding out recently that 2 of my former students from my very first year of teaching are pregnant (?!?!), I decided now rather than later is time for some one-on-one intervention with struggling students.

It’s proving to be far more difficult than I thought. To M, I’m not someone to be feared, revered, or inspired from. To her, I’m just an annoying gnat to be pushed away for the 54 min period that we have together. That’s why I’ve resorted to going to her house, meeting her foster grandmother, and anchoring M at a table to finish her essay.

So she turns in this essay that it took all the cajoling to do and what happens with the very next essay? Yup. She freaking doesn’t do it again. But, I tell myself, that’s to be expected. Did I expect one tutoring experience to undo previous years’ accumulation of bad habits? So I put on a brave face and try again. This time, I’m following to her after-school tutoring at our school, sitting right next to her, and literally stabbing her with my red pen (accidentally) because we’re so close together. Amidst such loveable declarations consisting of “I could tell you put make up all over your face” and “Your eyes get REALLY tiny when you laugh” I make sure she finishes all her missing work.

And throughout the session I get a small, rare glimpse into her life. We chat about thanksgiving at her home and she shares that its her birthday during Thanksgiving break, which she’ll spend doing nothing like all her days, duh Ms. Won. As she talks I notice the word “stupid” marked on her arm and I don’t know if it’s a statement to the world or to herself. The bell rings and as she trudges away, a smidget brighter than when tutoring started, I wonder how it would feel like to be her. To walk home alone, an hour later than most other kids because she spent the whole school day doing nothing and have a mountain of work to make up. To come to school the very next day and to do the same thing over again, marking something new on her arm, which may have a duplicitous meaning or not. And it makes me strangely love her foreign, angry, antisocial ways.

Pièce de résistance

I am a nerd. Or so my students tell me.

Proof: I purchased a dymo label maker not to make labels with but to punch out my favorite words with, and stick them onto my personal “WORD WALL”.

Proof: I listen to audio books religiously and find myself mimicking the author of each audiobook. Right now I’m reading Frank McCourt’s ‘Tis so I find myself thinking phrases like, “Ay don’t give a fiddler’s fart!”

Proof: How I say “proof” like how Dwight would bark, “fact”!

So it utterly boggles my mind when I see students who not only find learning difficult but unpleasurable. I mean, sure throw me a dense textbook and force feed facts down my throat and I’ll find education detestable, but trust me when I say that what goes on in my classroom isn’t comparable to any college course. If anything, it’s borderline kindergarten.

Going beyond not wanting to learn, those resistant students block any trickle of knowledge from leaking into their brains. I remind myself that all students have their own stories and are full of potential, but some days, it feels more like a battlefield than a classroom. I’m amazed by how much they actively block me from doing my job.

That’s when I calmly try to accept that I can only change myself. Unfortunately I’m just as stubborn as the kids, and I cannot stop being the nerd that I am. So it's back to the drawing board to concoct a piece de resistance that’ll make those students surrender their fight. ‘Tis the fight of a teacher, eh?

Let's get together~yeah yeah yeah!!!

I love seeing people get together, even if it's for a silly cause...

like dressing up as thuggish World Cup soccer players for Halloween.

My fellow teachers. My crew.

Sup.

Rising from the ashes

I wanted to title this blog, "Phoenix" to describe an improved lesson plan from previous years but in all honesty, it ain't that good. I'm just excited to add on a new element to a previous project, even if it isn't phenomenally better. It's one of the perks of teaching...you always get a second chance.

So my annual feast of idioms lesson got a little sprucing up this year. Usually I end the lesson with a worksheet on which students have to:

- list 6 different idioms

-write the real meaning of them

-incorporate into a sentence

But a student out of all people told me about how her previous teacher made them write whole paragraphs using one idiom.

She was complaining, but I droned her out as the cogs in my brain started whirling. My mind drifted off into storyland where the students would create their very own story based on 1 of the 6 idioms, complete with illustrations!

Need I mention that cut the cheese was the most popular choice amongst my oh-so-sophisticated 12 year old students? But as long as it's a dang good story, they can cut the cheese as often as they want.

Low

Do you know when you've reached the lowest point? I'm talking about the dark floor of a cynical, seemingly never-ending abyss of a pit. It's when you let a 12 year old get the best of you.

An mortifying snapshot of my day consisted of me glaring at a student, arms flailing threateningly, while saying, "Don't be a coward! If you have something to say, then say it to my face!!!" Needless to say, I've reached a breaking point with this particular student and the intentionally audible muttering under his breath was the last straw.

As I felt the surge of anger charging the very ends of my arm hair, I couldn't help but wonder, "What the heck am I doing?" He's t-w-e-l-v-e. On top of that, he just spent the last minute arguing with me on how he thinks he's stupid but I don't. He's pocked with insecurity, rattled by anger, and hiding under a false armor of bravado. And there I am stooping to right where he wants me: livid, close-minded, and vengeful.

I just don't know whether my weapon of choice should be my heart or my brain when facing another battle day on Monday. I really just don't know.

Freewrite

I know that my previous entry was all about limiting error through a very controlled environment, but when dealing with real human beans, it's important to let loose once in awhile. That's when I like to offer up freewrites in which the students are encouraged to write freely without the restrictions of grammar, spelling, or rubric.

This freewrite's topic was: The hardest lesson I ever had to learn in life was to ___________. I learned this when____________________.

The responses ranged from:

"I don't really know what I'm saying now but the directions said to write at least one page."

"I really love expressing myself like this. It's awesome!!!"

I feel like I got the whole gamut of experiences. From physical pain, death (Oh Mr. Fluff, you white rabbit, why did you have to go to bunny heaven so soon?), and academic pressures, some revealed much while others veiled topics that were too personal. And though I could only lamely write "I can relate to you" "That is so true" "I think that the past pain has only made you stronger", I'm grateful for those who wrote freely.

Say Ahhhh...

To spoon-feed or not to spoon-feed?

This is a recurring question come lesson planning time.

Do I want to honor students' inherent intelligence by designing a free-form project or do I want to make airplane noises as I feed them explicit instructions? After being a victim of my own disastrous projects, I've learned that it is better to give a clear picture of my expectations rather than to trust students' creative liberties.

Case in point-this is the first time that I've offered such scaffolding to my annual movie project.

(Note the sentence starters in addition to little symbols)

Giving them sentence starters like this really made me doubt the academic rigor of my projects. If the other 7th grade English teachers strolled into my room, I would've furiously erased such traces of babying my students. However, I have to say that students scored higher on their movie projects this year than any other previous years.

Even if I had helped them step by step, the end result is all theirs, and I'm really proud of their work. They also seem extremely happy, so if they're happy and I'm happy, then maybe this spoon-feeding isn't such a bad thing after all.

For better or worse

Sometimes they simply break my heart.
During others, they fill it to the brim.

The high off of their successes is more addicting than any drug,
but their failures are toxins killing my hope.

Sometimes I just can't stop thinking about lessons.
Sometimes, I just wish I could turn my brain off.

Their innocence inspires me,

while their arrogance disappoints.

But isn't it grand to be in love,
even if it's with a job?

I'll hand it over to J. Johnson to say it much better than I ever can,

"Love is the answer to most of the questions in my heart...
it's so much better when we're together..."

Ready, Setting, Go!

Before I had a passport,

before the internet existed,

and before I had a disposable income,

there were books.

One of my favorites that I would borrow time and time again from the musty school library was Danny, the Champion of the World by Roald Dahl.

Especially during fall, before the vision of espresso and macarons in autumnal Paris swam in my mind, there was this:

“We lived in an old gypsy caravan behind a filling station. My father owned the filling station and the caravan and a small meadow behind, but that was about all he owned in the world. It was a very small filling station on a small country road surrounded by fields and woody hills.

…

Immediately behind the caravan was an old apple tree. It bore fine apples that ripened in the middle of September. You could go on picking them for the next four or five weeks. Some of the boughs of the tree hung right over the caravan and when the wind blew the apples down in the night, they landed on our roof. I would hear them going thump…thump…thump…”

It’s crazy to realize that all of my current travel dreams originated from a desire to lose myself in a writer’s imaginary setting. Even while preaching the power of literature as an occupation, I’m surprised to see how much reading has shaped the very fiber of my being.

I could spend my entire career trying to find a way to infect students with a passion for reading. In fact, I just might.

Crazy people

I can hear everything that goes on in my classroom. Ok, maybe not everything but pretty darn close to it because it’s a scientific fact that 7^th graders are incapable of whispering. What they “tactfully” say under their breath eventually travels its way into my ears…then again, maybe they meant for their comments to be heard. And what I’ve been hearing a lot lately is:

“Crazy.”

“She’s so weird.”

“What the…”

Truthfully, I don’t blame them. I would’ve thought the same things (keeping them to my timid teenage-self, however) and internally scoffed at my teacher when she busted out with the crazies. By crazies I mean that I unexpectedly break out into songs, I dance, and I even showed off my faux French (“Ah, vat iz dis? Do ve not know ze meaning of dis vard?”).

In my defense, I have purposely fallen off the rocker. Would it make sense if I told you that I’ve dreamt of being the weird English teacher who in her long muumuu and clacking bangles, was so in love with good literature that she didn’t care what anyone, especially her students, thought of her? What my students label as strange, I like to call passionate and fun. But I’m afraid that’s how every crazy person thinks.

But being crazy is so much fun!

SOS

Ask and you shall receive...

I really love the Staples commercials where a distressed person simply has to press the big red EASY button to solve all problems. That easy button is definitely on my wish list this year.

If I had that button before I would've probably broken it by now. The worst part about teaching is when I feel absolutely useless in helping a student to learn. Whether it's watching a student passively waste away their brains or actively annoy me to the point where I don't even want to help, nothing is as draining as observing a failing student.

So I hungrily devoured many a teaching guides, one of them being Tools For Teaching by Fred Jones. And thank God I did because what I found were some brilliant strategies to help every student, one of them being the Visual Instructional Plan. Translation-telling the students what to do with symbols or drawings:

End Result

So doodling in some symbols may not sound like a big deal, but it has saved me so much time and energy in terms of helping all students-from chronic handraisers to those who act they're too cool for school. I don't have to make anyone feel dumb as I just point to the board in response to their questions.

As for the bigger wishes, like having more patience, peace, and love for the students, I have to resort to greater powers. But right now, I challenge Monday to come my way. I welcome the month of October, and I'm beckoning an entire successful school year to unravel. I'm filled to the brim with love & hope. My prayers have been answered :]

Business Plan

Sometimes, I find myself relating to a CEO of a major corporation.

Except that I don't make millions of dollars.

I also don't have much power.

And I'm not even a Republican.

Ok, maybe I'm more like the manager of a mom & pop joint in a no-name small town rather than an entrepreneurial mogul. Anyhow, any executive position upholds the same ideals-find ways to make your business thrive, manage all employees effectively to generate the most revenue, and make executive decisions, even if they go against status quo.

The problem is that I'm finding myself fretting over the smallest decisions. Should I use Lucinda Grand or Comic Sans for the worksheet title? Do I have the students face north or east when pairing up with a partner?

These are the nonsensical stresses that riddle my already fragile mind.

The more I think about it, a CEO is a horrible example.

I'm aiming to become more of a coach...

and less of a trembling Chihuahua.

1st Week Status Report

Can I tell you a secret?

Could you lean in closer~

A bit more...

I really like my classes so far.

But if you tell them I will kill you.

Truth be told, I don't think it's even because of the students themselves. A History teacher in my team shared that it seems like every year the faces change but the kids are the same. I know what he means. But I like how it feels like I've picked up from right where I left off. And the first thing that I return to teaching are the classroom rules.

My lovely, wonderful rules that overlook my class like an omniscient being.

And behind every great rule stands a consequence. These two were meant to be...

Here is the name board where the rule breakers go to publicly post their sins:

Finally, there are the students' favorite part of following the rules, the rewarding PAT (Preferred Activity Time)

(I'll reward the Periods with 2 extra PAT minutes if they take out their supplies in less than a minute, or arrange their desks into group formation in less than a minute, etc.)

A student thanked me after our first PAT game time, saying "I've been looking forward to this ALL week Ms. Won".

You're welcome sweet female student, but really, thank the rules, not me.

Flashing Lights

Multiple choice time!

Which of the following lights gets used the most?

(A)

(B)

(C)

I have a feeling that you've aced this quiz!

A special thanks to the artist~

Thanks cuz!

A girl named M.

Today, I was reminded of one of my favorite songs by Regina Spektor titled "Laughing With".

"No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war

No one's laughing at God
When they've lost all they've got and they don't know what for
...

But God could be funny
When told he'll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious..."

I thought of this song as I noticed teachers saying a whole lotta "Oh lord"s, "Dear god"s, "jesus"es. I guess the first week of school brings out the fervor in teachers, but there has been a ton of prayers sent today just from my school alone. It made me think about when it is that divine intervention becomes necessary instead of supplementary.

Which brings me to M.

I could tell she's gonna be one of those students who reminds me of how much I need God. Some thoughts will be blasphemous: "Oh Lord, why do you send such hurdles in my way?". Others will be pleading: "Lord, please give me the patience to deal with this child."

It's only the 2nd day and yet she has shown me that she can be defiant and unmotivated. We haven't gotten into any major hurdles yet, but I could whiff trouble from her a mile away. Thankfully, her 6th grade teacher, who adores her and happens to be a close friend of mine, gave me some much needed insight. M. has gone through enough family troubles to leave her angry for the rest of her life. She has been disappointed time and time again, so why should she crack a smile for a teacher she has barely known for 48 hours? I realize how stupid I am, to be upset at the display of uncooperative behavior when it really isn't about me at all.

And so I pray.

Before & After

The old me would've written out a script to recite verbatim on the first day of school.

The new me barely had time to write the day's agenda on the board before the bell rang.

The old me would've planned out my entire wardrobe for the 1st week of school.

Now, the new me plans the entire lunch menu to pack for the 1st week of school.

The old me would've started planning a weekend getaway vacation by now, cruising cheapflights.com

The new me started my second job today tutoring high school kids to earn some extra money.

Times are certainly changing. For a long time, I was torn on deciding whether all this change was for the better or worse. I would mask my ambivalence about my changing demeanor and attitude towards teaching by saying that I was now "different".

But I've officially decided-change is good. I used to worry myself sick the night before school began (which was ironically how I ended up being late to Homeroom on my first day as a teacher). I've never felt as relaxed as I did the start of this year and I see that it's rubbing off on the kids.

The old me would've been in mourning, knowing that the tales of the bygone summer burned onto my skin would fade away as the school months progressed. The new me ran at the beach yesterday with a dear friend and laughed until my face hurt. Now I see that grief has no place in this ever-changing whirlwind called life. There are beginnings and ends but they are all connected. Life moves on.

Back to Innocence

Download this mp3 from Beemp3.com

From start to finish, this song is perfect. It's so good that it almost makes me want to go back to school come Monday. Almost.

I've climbed the fence,

got the books & pens.

But I don't have brand new shoes, walking blues.

And I'm hoping that the kids and I are gonna be friends.

Oh yes, I'm hoping that they and I will be friends.

Role Play

I was talking with some friends about junior high days and how if given the choice, we’d run away from the chance to go back to those days like it was the plague. The memory of the awkwardness, gawkiness, and sheer idiocy of our pubescent mentalities still linger in our minds. It was embarrassing enough to experience it once.

Facing seventh graders every day, I sympathize more than envy. The raging hormones, the boy who wanted to get with you yesterday but wants a different girl today, and the pain of not being invited to a friend’s party…those experiences will add up to form a murky, uncomfortable time in most of their lives. Whereas now I feel infinitely more comfortable in my own skin, I remember how important it was to be cool at their age. Effortlessly, undeniably cool.

However, I haven’t traveled leaps and bounds from where my students stand. I still try too hard at playing the role of a perfect teacher. That’s why I stress during lessons, acting like I know what I’m doing as I stupefy them into deeper boredom. I create awkward scenarios as I attempt to lead a Socratic seminar where the students shift uncomfortably in their seats as opposed to sharing and debating their ideas. Meanwhile I try not to show the popping beads of sweat and clammy palms.

My friend Kenny told me about a memorable moment when his dad was telling a family friend that Kenny wasn’t the only one growing up, that he himself was growing and learning what it is to be a father everyday. This year, I don’t want to memorize, rehearse, and perform. I want to reveal the honest truth-that I’m not a seasoned teacher yet. I will make stupid mistakes, pride will get in my way, and frustrations will come. But that one day I hope to become a great teacher...a teacher who goes beyond the curriculum and affects their hearts and lives as well as their minds.

Treats

I’ve found a chocolate truffle of a book. No, a real black truffle of a book that I eagerly sought out like a pig in the Italian woods. Just reading the title made my mouth water:

In it are gems of activities that show off the author's creativity. I'm inspired by her genius ideas. Jealously inspired.

1. Internal Monologue: students use character's feelings, experiences, and thoughts described in a story to deliver a monologue as the character.

2. Gift to a character: students will give 3 tangible or intangible gifts to the same or different characters in a story. Each gift needs a gift card attached to it to explain why that particular gift was given.

3. Candy Wrapper letter: students must bring empty candy wrappers to class. They will cut and paste candy wrappers to write a letter to a character.

Seeing all these activities I can’t help but think, and dare I say it...I’m excited for school to start! I know it’s a naively optimistic, stereotypical reaction expected of young/stupid teachers but I can’t help it. Candy wrappers! Soliloquies! Gift giving! How can I resist?

Killing 'em softly

People learn more from love than from the absence of it.

This may seem like a self-evident truth, so minimal that it hardly seems worthy of any appreciation. But think about how many times you’ve abstained love as a way to teach someone a lesson.

That bully who just wouldn’t leave you alone. I doubt you showered him/her with compliments or affection. When your boyfriend or girlfriend hurts your feelings, how easy is it to resort to ignoring their calls? And even amongst family, the revenge method of choice is to show exactly how much you don’t love them.

As a teacher, I confess that this is my go-to tactic when the kids are bratty, uncooperative, or just plain lazy. You wanna make my life hard? Ok fine. I’ve got 150 other kids to worry about and if you’re not going to do your job as a student, when why should I bend over backwards to care about you?

I tell myself and the students that it’s not personal, it’s business. Then I promptly resort to teaching those students who want to learn and mentally shutting out those who don’t. But I’ve recently heard that insanity is doing something that doesn’t work over and over again. The success rate of my zero-love policy for problem students is so dismal that it’d be crazy not to try loving these kids who hate me, my class, and school. Is what I have to lose so valuable anyways?

It’s been a humbling experience to dismount my high horse and see that prideful resentment does very little to better any relationship. The not so secret main ingredient here is love. Always love.

Love & Marriage-Part II

This time, I want to talk about marriage more in the literal sense seeing as how my sister just got married this past weekend (and was the most beautiful bride, I might add).

She was also the most relaxed bride I had ever seen, which only served to enhance her exterior beauty. She understood that the wedding wasn’t about making some feminine fantasy come true, but a formal, rather traditional celebration for families. She whole-heartedly accepted the Korean wedding traditions knowing that was what our family and what her husband’s family wanted. There were no ethereal engagement photos, Snow-white themed decorations adorning the chapel, or vintage 1950 cars sweeping them off to their honeymoon suite. It was simply pink & white, short & sweet.

And this acceptance on my sister’s part taught me much about…teaching. I view the first day of school of this dreamy day where a new chapter begins as I make my vows to educate each one of those shining, pure faces. I become a bashful, blushing bride as I fantasize about the happy year I will lead with my new students. And then that romantic resolution goes flying out the classroom window about after a month. I’m beginning to think that the secret to a long lasting relationship may be facing certain truths.

Therefore, I have mapped out some realities for myself as the big day approaches and I face my new batch of students:

1. They will be annoying. They’re 12 year olds and truth be told, I wasn’t much less annoying at their age.
1. Their main concern is looking good in front of their peers and not so much looking good in front of me.
3. They won’t be self-motivated.
4. They will not like being prodded to be self-motivated.
5. They will not like being prodded to be self-motivated even if you show them love. Or hatred.
6. They must be tricked into doing their work and raising their grade.
7. And the tricks must be engaging, intelligent, and seemingly effortless. Full on David Blaine.
8. But they must be tricked with a heart that’s directed more at their successes than my own.
9. I am not, nor will ever be their mom, sister, or psychologist.
10. It is my job is to teach every single one of them. Even the ones who stink.

Love & Marriage

With my fifth year wrapped up and my sixth year as a teacher quickly approaching, it’s officially the longest relationship I’ve ever been in. And this last year wasn’t such a good year for us: I doubted, dreaded going to work on some days, and the D-word flitted through my mind like a nervous fly (ditch-ditch-ditch!). But I’m glad we made it through the rough patch, because I think there’s something special about teaching. I really do.

A great book called Tools for Teaching has reinvigorated me. In the book is a chapter about Preferred Activity Time (PAT) which are 20 minutes given every Friday that can be added onto or taken away according to the entire class’ cooperation throughout the week. One idea for a PAT is playing academic baseball.

1. Create a baseball diamond in front of the class with masking tape and blank white sheets of paper.

2. Divide the class up into 2 teams

3. Have a “batter” come up from one team, and the teacher is the pitcher who asks if the student would like a single, double, triple, or homerun questions about that week’s lesson. If the students get the question right, they actually stand on base.

4. If the batter is wrong, the teacher calls out “Fly ball!” and the other team who should have their notes out in front, has a chance to answer and make an out.

5. The final score isn’t just based on the number of runs made. Instead, it’s RUNS-OUT=FINAL SCORE. That way, an out becomes a very big deal.

If implemented well, PAT wouldn’t just make every Friday something that the kids and me, the biggest kid in clas, look forward to, but it would increase cooperation, responsibility, and diligence…everything that I dreamt of instilling as a young, love-struck teacher. And, there's also the perk of wearing a baseball player's uniform to match the theme. Moments like these, little glimmers of hope encased in one silly game, make me fall for teaching time and time again.

Education for all

"More broadly, the single most important way to encourage women and girls to stand up for their rights is education, and we can do far more to promote universal education in poor countries"- Nicholas D. Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn

Just like Greg Mortenson, Kristof and WuDunn highlight education as the greatest weapon to fight against the injustices facing third world countries. Which brings me to my first point-why is education labeled as being so important? Aside from my obvious bias (ie. love) for education, I think it makes perfect sense to have an educational safety net set up for struggling countries. Tragically, the most devastated countries around the world suffer from constant, tumultuous change. There is no one right answer available for all the varying questions cropping up about healthcare, government's duties, citizens' roles, economy, etc. But by promoting education, activists such as Mortenson, Kristof, and WuDunn are advocating the rather simple notion of helping the nation's citizens think for themselves, instead of coercing another more powerful nation's notions onto them.

Helping other countries is an enormously complicated issue that I've gotten a glimpse of by standing on the shoulders of these authors, but it's interesting to see how education is unabashedly praised as the catalyst for change. Which brings to my second point.

On my very first interview with LAUSD 6 years ago, I was handed this:

My interviewer gave me this after asking me why I wanted to teach and I answered, "Because it's something I know I'll do passionately". Perhaps he knew that I would inevitably resort to shut-up-and-do-your-worksheet days at some point; that I would lose my patience, passion, and even hope on the worst ones. So maybe he gave me this card as a physical reminder, a talisman of sorts, to bring forth the initial passion I had for education.

But more powerful than this card in solidifying my faith in education is reading about how education is at its best is enlightening, empowering, or to put it simply-useful. Whether teaching in rural Cambodia or in an urban American school, ALL children can use a critical mind and a strong voice. The power of education is far reaching and universal.

Temptation

I know I'm not perfect. I will never look like Gisele, I will never sing like Celine, and I don't own the most charming restaurant in Berkeley like Alice Waters.

But, this undeniably empirical fact goes flying out the window when it comes to teaching. Oh how I want to be perfect! How I dream of my classroom looking perfect, my lesson being perfect, and my students being perfectly happy to learn as opposed to sitting in my classroom due to a mandated federal law.

What a perfectly tantalizing fruit and a noble pedestal to stand upon, this desire for perfection...or is it? What if it is Eve's forbidden apple, waiting for that first bite to unleash pandora's box of monstrosities? Having chomped a big bite, I found the most controlling behavior unleashed within me, all in the crusade for perfection.

I have to be wary against this pitfall next year because schools aren't perfect, students aren't perfect, and to my own sadness, I am not perfect.

Curtain call

There are few pleasures as deeply satisfying as seeing someone use a gift that you have given to him or her. Months after the birthday, holiday, or the occasion that called for a celebration has passed, to see the person take out your gift, now worn with use and love, fills the heart with a sense of meaning.

I love giving useful gifts that blend seamlessly into life's routines to remind the person of your love for them in the most mundane moments. It is perhaps this love of useful gifts that makes teaching so attractive to me.

It's a dream of mine to have students come back to me in the future and to say that they've learned something useful to their lives. And this fantasy seems acutely out of reach in years such as this past one, where the 9 month school year journey seemed long and weary. But as I made the announcement, "Ok, take your warm up notebook home today, because that was the very last English warm up we'll do", I felt a wave of sadness and premature nostalgia for times gone by.

A year can be hard, easy, heart-wrenching, or unemotional. But it goes by quickly, a blip in the road of life. I wish that I had shown more empathy, compassion, and love to those 150 hooligans. But most of all, I hope that I've given them the gift of knowledge to use forever.

Because you loved me

There are some things that will never go out of style...

Chanel,

Caviar,

Compassion,

and Celine Dion.

From my mom who can barely speak English but belts out "The Power of love" verbatim to the teen phenomenon Charice Pempengco, everyone seems to melt for Celine.


It is the last week of school and I'm planning to teach my very last lesson using Celine's "Because you loved me". Chock full of idioms and metaphors, this song lends itself perfectly to the thank you card project I've assigned. Students must write a card to whomever has helped them academically their tumultuous journey called "The Seventh Grade" using figurative language in their writing.


I'm hoping that Celine inspires them to eloquently express their gratitude. And that they enjoy this KOST FM classic as much as I do.


Because you loved me


You gave me wings and made me fly
You touched my hand I could touch the sky
I lost my faith, you gave it back to me
You said no star was out of reach

You stood by me and I stood tall
I had your love, I had it all
I'm grateful for each day you gave me

Maybe, I don't know that much
But I know this much is true
I was blessed because
I was loved by you

You were my strength when I was weak
You were my voice when I couldn't speak
You were my eyes when I couldn't see
You saw the best there was in me