Aw, Geez, Ronnie, We'll Miss You

Just as I was heading to the train tonight I happened to walk by Holy Name Cathedral, where the public viewing for longtime Cub Ron Santo was taking place. Although I had contemplated going to the viewing earlier in the week, I honestly had forgotten about it until I saw the barricades that were still standing. I still didn't even plan on going in, but curiosity, I suppose, got the better of me. And guilt. Here I am, a so-called diehard Cubs fan, grumbling and rambling about baseball's winter meetings and free agency signings, and I was still reluctant to pay respects to a man who lived for the Cubs and the Cubs through him. In many respects, I lived vicariously through the Cubs, especially while listening to Pat & Ron call the games on WGN, so much so that I feel like a chapter of my life has now closed with his death. Does that mean I've decided to move on from the Cubs? Of course not. It just means that I can look back at a certain period of time, perhaps from May 2000 until maybe the end of the baseball season in 2004 with a bit of nostalgia and wistfulness, even as I've grown through marriage, parenthood, education and employment.

I had to go in for the viewing, and my eyes did all the informing. The giant placards noting that no photography was allowed. The church's magnificent rafters. The smattering of Cubbie Blue throughout the pews. And the casket, at the end of the long aisle, with Santo's number "10" draped over it. On top of the casket, maybe over Ron's heart, was a golden mitt. On the ground to the left was an easel with a large picture from his playing days. There were also a couple of ushers--or security guards, I wasn't too sure--flanking the body, presumably to keep the real diehards from lingering too long. I waited my turn in the short line, watched the guy in front of me cross himself before leaving, and then I stepped forward.

At that point, I almost asked aloud, "Now, what do I do?" Everyone in the cathedral was watching me, or so I felt. I stood there, taking in the moment before hearing in my memory a cacophony of Santo's on-air reactions. "Aw...geez," "Wow!" "I can't believe it!" "Oh no!" and a host of other things he may or may not have uttered. It was always the emotion, not the words, listening to Ronnie. I had pictured him practically leaping out of his legs when Derrek Lee hit a pinch-hit grand slam a few years ago, and I chose to remember Santo for his exuberance rather than his exasperation. Feeling my moment was up, I nodded toward the altar and then to the ushers as I glided out. Even now, more memories keeping flooding back.

In the summer of 2003, it was clear the Cubs were competitive. It was the June series against the Yankees that proved the Cubs were serious. When Eric Karros launched a rocket out to left to give the Cubs the lead in the Saturday game (in which Kerry Wood earned his 50th win), pandemonium nearly rang out. Just a few innings earlier, one could have heard a pin drop at Wrigley when Cubs first baseman Hee Sop Choi lay unconscious on the field after colliding with Wood while corralling a pop up. Leading up to and during the next day's evening game, Ronnie described some of the reactions and emotions from the big roller-coaster win. I can't recall his exact words, but it was always fun to listen to him whether he was up or down.

He hated Alfonso Soriano's hop. You know, the one Sori does when he's catching (or sometimes dropping) a routine fly ball. He'd groan when a pitcher would airmail the throw past first base on a routine dribbler back to the mound. He'd burst with enthusiasm when a ball was driven to the gap or a perfect throw nailed a runner at the plate. And he would have these exchanges with his partner, Pat Hughes, that were, simply put, a riot. 


Ronnie always made sure to plug his pet cause, too. When the Cubs drew their first walk of the game, he would note that, "for every walk drawn by a Cubs player today, Walgreens will make a Big, Big donation to my walk for the cure" of JDRF (Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. I always meant to participate in the walk. Maybe next year.


I only met Santo once, while I was working for my previous employer, a urologist. I was covering the check-in desk during a lunch break when he arrived for his appointment. He was getting an opinion regarding treatment of his bladder cancer. This was back in the fall of 2003, two days after the Cubs won the division title and one day after that moving ceremony to retire his number. Of course, we had scheduled him at a time when no other patients would be around. Icons are people, too, and they deserve to go to the doctor's office without questions from autograph-seekers. I don't think he even said a word when he checked in--I told him to take a seat when I first saw him. "I'll let the nurse know you're here." As much as I wanted to talk baseball with him--and there are many who can attest that I'll talk with anyone on the subject--I kept it professional. I even remember waving his wife in a few minutes later when she arrived after parking the car.


Even now, after he eventually succumbed to the disease, I think about how challenging that must have been for Santo. After a whole career of playing  for and then calling games for the Cubs, he wasn't able to be there for the playoff series against Atlanta, the one (and still only) playoff series the Cubs have won since 1908.  He met his challenges head on, between the diabetes and cancer and heart disease, and the perennial disappointments on the field. During these past few years, as Ronnie began limiting his road trips with the team, I kept hoping they'd find a way to make it to the World Series while he was still alive. No one would have enjoyed it more than he. Shoot, the veterans committee will probably vote him in to the Hall of Fame the next time they meet. Too bad he didn't get in while he was alive, because he absolutely deserved it and would have relished every moment of it. He was a guy we all could love--he showed us how to wear our emotions on our sleeves (for better or worse), and he certainly helped me rekindle my love for baseball. Now, I hope he's clicking his heels, wherever he is. 

End of Student Teaching

Actually, I finished my student teaching internship last Friday. Altogether, I taught Mrs. Moore's world literature classes for approximately 9 weeks, covering three units (grammar basics, Epic of Gilgamesh and The Iliad). For Mr. Scott, I assumed control of the classroom for 7 weeks, handling the pantomime portion of the intro to drama unit and all of the improv unit. The minimum requirement was just four weeks, but I'm not sure how anyone could prove he/she was ready to be a teacher based on four weeks. Some may say the same for student teaching for just 10 or 11 weeks, but I'd rationalize that, over the course of ten weeks, one would have a pretty good idea whether he/she possessed the tools necessary handle a classroom. Somehow I managed to fit in quite a few points of interest.

The last two weeks were no exception:

• The student whose stories seemed to be all over the place (among other things, he claimed he had been searched by Chicago police officers because they suspected he had a loaded weapon in his possession) spent most of my final two weeks in a posh psychiatric facility before returning to the classroom on my final day. I guess he's certifiable.
• One of my best students transferred to another school because she and her family believed that she wasn't safe in the building. Hopefully, her transition is going smoothly. 
• The student who refused to participate in the improv research project was denied again in his quest to transfer to a different class, as he had missed three programming opportunities during his junior year. Mr. Scott had another chat with the student, learning that the student didn't want to work with the gay students in his group. Not that either Mr. Scott or myself believe that is an acceptable position, but the greater irony is that there weren't any gay students in the group which he had been assigned. For improv group performances, I actually succeeded in placing the student with a different group, led by one of the school jocks. Of course, I was all but certain that that plan would fail when the first character the jock assumed in their improv game was a gay hairstylist. Thankfully, everything worked out.
• One of the teachers in the music department quit at the end of the quarter, leaving the school in the lurch--especially when it came time to do parent-teacher conferences the following week. While I understand that the teacher felt out of place in this profession, most would agree that there could have been better timing.

Of course, the parent-teacher conferences were fairly "educational" as well. One female student--bright but failing due to lack of submitted assignments--came in with her father. Mrs. Moore and I knew there were some emotional issues going on anyway, based on the student's irrational behavior and what we knew of her background, but the tension between the girl and her father was palpable. At one point, she told him to shut up, and she said there were troubles at home. More discussion led to tears. I played the encouragement card, noting that she was quite capable of doing the work. I will be curious to know how the rest of the year transpires for her.

In another conference, a mother talked about how she starts work at 3 am and calls her son at 6 am to wake him for school. He couldn't explain why he fails regularly to attend his first three classes, including our world lit class, except that he was tired. He works on the weekends, so that shouldn't be a problem--Mrs. Moore theorized that he is participating in some extracurricular activities that keep him out late.

For the theater classes, I found it fascinating to talk with some of parents of students from Mr. Scott's other theater tech I class. One student is considering studying theater in college, so I recommended my alma mater to the parents. I had few parents for my own classes, except for the middle school students, and even they had less representation than I expected. One couple spent 20 minutes wondering what their seventh grader could do to bring up his grade. After Mr. Scott and I detailed some of the extra credit options and what was ahead in the class, the parents finally left. We could only shake our heads at the fact that the student in question has a 92 percent in the class. If only the students who were failing had so much attention from their parents.

The overall experience was affirming. I learned quite a bit from each of my cooperating teachers, and just as much from the 184 (give or take) students I taught and other teachers and administrations with whom I worked. I gave my appreciation to the principal and one of the assistant principals, as well as the head of the English department, and they all encouraged me to obtain my sub card. Too bad CPS isn't currently accepting applications for substitute positions (at least not officially), but I need to make sure I knock on the door and ask. I don't want a potential opportunity to pass me by. And, as Mr. Scott noted, there are some "crazy-ass subs" at our high school. Returning back to my office job this week only reinforced the notion that teaching is my calling. Can't wait to do it with my own classes. 

Last Week

Tomorrow is my last day teaching all five sections, as I am ceding the classroom control of the world literature classes back to Mrs. Moore. It has been a fun ride, but now we are wrapping up the Iliad unit. Altogether, I'd say I taught the class for nearly nine weeks, though Mrs. Moore still played a significant role in setting up the unit projects and has done more grading than I think cooperating teachers normally would. I have done as much as she would allow, but I can understand the desire to maintain control over the gradebook.

At the same time, Mr. Scott has given me complete access to entering his attendance and grades for the three sections for which I'm responsible. I have learned how to create assignments and update grades readily, and it is valuable to be able to view the students' cumulative grades. Mrs. Moore and I reviewed the final grades for the first marking period today, and the numbers are, simply put, abysmal. There are a number of students earning As and Bs--those are the students doing the work. And then there are the rest, most of whom will have great odds to overcome if they are to even sniff a D. I tried to evaluate what I have done over the course of the term, and I compared the numbers to my theater classes (well, the high schoolers), and came to a reasonable conclusion: it doesn't matter the content area, the approach or the difficulty level--students with the willpower to do the work will do well, and those who don't, fail. While it's presumptuous to based statements on just ten weeks in the classroom, it is evident that the students have been passed along, coddled and allowed to get by simply by doing the minimum.

I have given multiple appeals to the students, reminding them that even striving for sixty or seventy percent success won't cut it--those would be the employees who would be laid off first. Colleges won't look at Ds and willl be concerned with Cs. Students have to expect more from themselves. We've evaluated the work, too, and students even admit that the work isn't hard. So why don't they do it?

It starts when the students are younger. My middle school students hardly ever miss school and rarely miss an assignment. Granted, these kids are almost all overachievers, while the high school students in my classes have likely never fit that bill. That being said, I expect more from the students, and I don't put much credence into the low test scores. They suffer from test fatigue and believe the test results don't mean anything, so the students don't try to do well--they just get through it.

The other reason my seniors are not doing the work is that they have too much going on outside of school. They have jobs and sports and familial responsibilities--at least one has a baby at home to care for, and many fill in parental roles for their younger siblings. We have tried to be accomodating by giving students time to do work in class and giving them plenty of notice on more time-consuming projects. Some take advantage of the time, others don't.

I had my final evaluation last Thursday. My university supervisor came back to see the theater class presentations, which were a mixed bag of results. I tried to make sure the strongest presentations went first, and I ended up being a little disappointed with how the students did overall. Perhaps that's because my expectations were so high. Some groups did work really well together; others, well, I think I covered that on a previous post. Now that all groups have presented and the papers have been graded, I am proud that I took the leap of faith and went big for the research project. But after seeing the overall grades, I can understand why Mrs. Moore is struggling in her decision to pursue the big, exciting project she has planned for the spring, or whether she wants to stick with simpler, paint by numbers-type assignments. With such a high failure rate despite manageable, relatively easy work, how can one expect students to succeed with a more challenging project?

My feeling is that we must keep pushing. Students who are challenged consistently will work to overcome those challenges; apathy sets in otherwise. If I can continually push myself to keep the options limitless for students, I believe there will be success. And if nothing else, I'd rather be able to say I tried with my best, rather than settling for just getting by. Isn't that why I'm changing careers to be a teacher?

Nearly eight weeks in

It's hard to believe how quickly the time is flying! Last night I had the last regular class session for my university seminar. We covered a couple of items, including applying for certification. Is it starting to feel real yet? I feel like I’m ready. Give it another week, though, just to be sure, and together we’ll evaluate my progress. Why one more week, you ask? I have my final observation from my university supervisor next Thursday, and the theater students should be presenting their improv projects. Honestly, I have no idea what the outcome will be.

I could have played it safe for the unit, just sticking to improv games and briefing the students on the history on improvisation in theater. Instead, I have gone big. Thankfully, Mr. Scott was on board from the get-go, and it certainly has helped to bounce ideas off him as we progress. For the unit, I created six teams for each class, each team corresponding to a well-known improv theatre troupe, i.e., Second City, The Groundlings, et al. Each team has to put together a research paper and presentation on their company. I thought it would be a fun way for students to really gain appreciation of the art form, particularly with its strong Chicago roots. Throw in bonuses for integrated technology and collaborative work, and I think I’m hitting all the marks with the project. Part of the struggle is getting enough time for the students to work on computers during class time, since the students are from varying grade levels and don’t have the same lunch periods or much ability to work together after school. They should be doing some research outside of class, but I have to be realistic about how much they are able to do. I assembled the groups in mixed abilities, with even gender arrangements and broken up cliques. The idea is that the groups will also work together for their improv sketch performances, so the collaborative work should yield good results. If all goes well, students should be submitting their papers and projects on Monday, giving me time to at least peruse everything before the presentations.

I have had a couple of small fires which I have had to diffuse. In my first period class, the group studying Second City was fighting because one girl said the other had to do the interview requirement. The first girl was trying to say that she could do her own research for the presentation, and everyone else could do the paper—I had to explain that it was important for each of them to take sections of the project and assemble the same info for both the paper and the presentation. Thankfully that seemed to work.

My other situation involves a student whose first language is not English. I think it may be Polish—we do have a significant Polish population at my school—but I’m not certain. He has refused to work with his group, and he pretty much stated that he thought the theater class was stupid. The only reason why he was still in the class, he said, is his counselor would not let him transfer out. Ironically, he had asked for bookwork and other assignments to augment his reluctance to perform, which I said he couldn’t do—he has to participate just like everyone else or face the consequences. With this project, I had tried to get him to work with his group, but he maintained his refusal, even after I told him that he would likely fail the class if he didn’t do well on the project. When he pulled the same thing again today, I gave him a new assignment: he will have to do his own paper and presentation on Keith Johnstone and his Gorilla Theatre. I don’t have faith that the student will complete the work, but at least his group doesn’t have to plan for the contingency of him actually participating. When I gave the group the news today, at least one of the students had no idea he was even part of their group. If he does do the presentation, it could be interesting for the rest of the class. I haven’t yet figured out what we’ll do for the improv performances, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

Three weeks from tomorrow is report card pickup and my last official day as a student teacher. I will likely go back the following day, which is a regular class schedule, just to see the students and aid in the transition back to my respective cooperating teachers. Hard to believe it’s coming up that soon. Aside from not getting my usual paycheck, and the crazy commutes, I’ve really enjoyed this experience. Even the staff development meetings and bureaucracy—it’s a welcome change from the medical billing world. Hopefully it won’t be long before I have a classroom of my own.

Second evaluation is in the books

Today was a busy day. I had my midterm evaluation with my university supervisor, the only evaluation for world lit, and all things considered, it went well. Not exactly smoothly, from my standpoint, but I managed to have things go well enough that my grade certainly benefitted.

While I was presenting to my students how to create a Voki (an avatar) for use in their Epic of Gilgamesh projects, I found I had a terrible time trying to embed the finished product on my page. Each attempt seemed to bring me no closer to a finished product. The last thing I wanted to do was confuse students, but in the end, with a brief reminder from Mrs. Moore, I was able to demonstrate for the students what they needed to do. My university supervisor gave me credit for not getting flustered, so that definitely scored well. In all I think I received exceeds student teacher requirements for the bulk of the evaluation. Now I just have one more evaluation left, in three weeks. That one will be for theater. I'm looking forward to it.

Five weeks down, five-plus to go

While one may think of this as five weeks into the latest Bears season (a surprising 4-1, with anyone's guess how the rest will go), it is hard to believe that I am already five weeks into my student teaching assignment, with little more than five weeks left to go. As Mrs. Moore might put it, I've gotten to see a lot of things so far. Nothing else has been quite as "exciting" as having the principal in the classroom for two consecutive days during the first week of school. My range of experiences, though, will prove more than informative as I transition into this new career.

Teaching three sections of theater and two sections of world literature, I see an array of students. It's only seniors in the world lit classes, but one section is inclusion. Some students are doing really well in the class, and some aren't exactly trying. This next week of assignments (post-progress reports) will go a long ways toward determining who will pass and who likely won't. We have an important study guide project due Friday and a unit project due Monday--not to mention a set of journal entries; there are a ton of points on the table this week, and failure to capitalize will be devastating for the students. At the department meeting, we were informed that a "D-F list" was to be circulated, and teachers are supposed to offer remediation strategies in order to help students pass. Mrs. Moore's philosophy, and I tend to agree, is that seniors should be able to come up with their own remediation strategies. The reality is that if the students have done their assignments, they are passing, and if they haven't been doing the work, they are not passing.

For the theater classes, I have two sections of high school students, each with a very different dynamic due to its placement in the daily schedule. The first period class has a high rate of tardiness and a greater resistance to participation. My fifth period group is much more energetic, but they get too talkative. On Wednesday last week, I had to end an imagination exercise and sit everyone down for a writing assignment due to their collective lack of respect. They did a much better job of participating on Thursday.

The other theater section is nothing short of crazy. We have some middle schoolers at the high school, and my sixth period section is really two groups of students: one that meets M-W-F and one that meets Tuesdays and Thursdays. There are 35 students in each grouping, so it's fair to say there are still a bunch of students I cannot yet identify by name. Same for Mr. Scott. On Thursday, the students did the Edward Albee version of the lesson plan--it was just absurd. As Mr. Scott has said, sometimes you can fight the wave of energy, and sometimes it's better just ride that wave wherever it takes you. Thursday was one of those days.

Five weeks in, I can honestly say I expected more resistance from students and for the overall process to be more difficult. Have I written out all of my lesson plans in the appropriate university format, complete with the state standards which I'm hitting? No, but I have mapped out the lessons for each respective unit, basically using the "backwards" design prescribed. I have appropriate assessments and allowances for remediation. I know what my overall objectives are and know essentially what I hope to accomplish with each day. Some days have gone better than others, which isn't unexpected. What is my biggest success? I can manage a classroom. That being said, these are mostly good, nonaggressive students. Could I handle more combative students? I believe I can, but until that situation presents itself, I just have to hold onto that belief. In the meantime, five-plus weeks to go...

In Midseason Form

Yesterday was finally the initial observation from my university supervisor. Thanks to the crazy testing schedule, professional development days and other scheduling conflicts, I was worried we'd have had to push the observation too far back. We still have a midterm and final observation to go, but at least I have the first one under my belt.

The way yesterday began, I was regretting that it was the day for my observation. I had been reluctant to schedule it for a Friday, but it sure beat the alternative of having a shortened period to work with. The observation was scheduled for my fifth period theater class, and Mr. Scott and I had worked out the plans to incorporate some bookwork with the introduction to the new chapter on Mime, which I expanded into the theme of movement. Because of the schedule, we still had some show and tell performances to wrap up as well. In first period, the students were sluggish. I'm not sure if students were just out of rhythm because of the testing on Thursday or what, but they weren't buying what I was selling.
After the performances and the discussion about the chapter, I took the students to the stage area to play Machine, a favorite theater game. I'm not sure whether it was my directions or the fact that the students were resisting participation, or maybe it was some combination thereof, but the game bombed. There was virtually no energy for a game that depends entirely on physical movement. I was glad that I had the chance to rework some things before the later observation.

My second period world literature class didn't feel any better. We had listened to the audio of parts one and two of The Epic of Gilgamesh on Wednesday; yesterday, I was explicating the story from the beginning, and students put up walls of resistance. You'd think I was trying to extract teeth! While we were listening to the announcements before dismissing the class, Mrs. Moore tapped me on the shoulder to suggest we do a quiz next week. I guess we'll see how effective that is in forcing the students to become actively engaged. At any rate, I did not have high hopes for the rest of the day, including the observation.

Finally, fifth period rolled around, and my supervisor was able to talk to Mr. Scott prior to the class. We had a brief discussion as well, in which I told him about our lesson plans and how the classes had been going so far. I was able to organize the students pretty quickly when it came to finishing the performances, and then we did well with the bookwork. This time, I added a bridge activity before the Machine, and that helped. That, and I think the students were a little more awake. It still wasn't great, but it was more effective than that of first period.

After the period was over, I met with the supervisor, and he had nothing but good things to say. He liked my classroom management and how well I used the time, and he thought I involved the students well. We touched base on my world lit class, and then he was gone. Not bad. Especially considering how the day began. Not that I was that concerned heading into the observation, but it is nice to get confirmation from an outside observer that things are going as well as I perceive.

Week 4

This week I am beginning to teach the literature of the world lit class. I have to figure out how to incoporate the grammar workbooks as we continue to read Epic of Gilgamesh. There is a lot of material to cover in a short period. Mrs. Moore says that students generally need less extrapolation as we get further into the test, but students will need a lot of help. We'll do the vocabulary online, and we've got another project near the end of the unit. In between, good chunks of reading and note-taking.

We are seeing performances in theater classes starting tomorrow as students do our version of Show and Tell. Friday, I will begin the pantomime unit. I will also have my first university supervisor date. I should be fine. I do have some work to do to build the unit on improvisation. I am still debating how to frame my major assessment, which should be a group paper or presentation. Maybe I should make it a presentation so that we can give students more time to get comfortable in front of an audience.

My other objective? Figure out how to get around the school's block on YouTube. I thought an embedded video would work, but evidently it won't. I'll get it soon enough.

? e at this stage. Per the curriculum maps, student should know a dangling modifier at this stage; our students are struggling with prepositions.

? Long day of professional development meetings on curriculum mapping. According to the numbers, the seniors are testing well below where we want them to b

Week Three

I am learning quickly that one has to be flexible in order to be a good teacher. Otherwise, one would go bonkers.

Next week we have testing at my school, which throws a sizable monkey wrench into my lesson plans even though my seniors aren't subjected to this round of tests. We have four different schedules next week, with varying class lengths and homerooms. If the teachers can't keep it straight, how can the students be expected to? And when do we have time to teach the material on which the students are being tested?

Mrs. Moore helped remind me today that our school, whiLe it is overall pretty good, is still a public school and does have its issues that accompany that designation. A number of students do engage in 'extracurricular' activities, including using girlfriends as mules to bring in weapons and conducting business transactions during passing periods. It's rougher elsewhere, but that doesn't mean there aren't elements on our school campus. I don't think I'm that naïve, but it is still surprising to hear more specifics. Despite the fact that all involved are kids, they are applying standard economic priciples of supply and demand. But that doesn't make it right. Where there's money, they'll find a way.

Remediation

Remediation. This is a word not discussed much in my university teacher educationi program, but I am learning quickly that, in Chicago, it is a fundamental art for teaching. We are doing grammar with my seniors, and clearly more remediation is necessary. We are doing sentence diagrams, and it is evident that some students know their parts of speech, and some just aren't there. I'm not sure if language itself is an issue, though many might be surprised to know that my Spanish-speaking kids have a good grasp on grammar. Students from other language backgrounds, however, seem to be having more challenges. It's a small sample size, to be honest, and I'd gather that many of my strugglers have only known English.

I am looking forward to working through the literature. I think the students will respond well to the activites planned. I know I'm ready for more multi-modal instruction, as this direct instruction bores me--I can only imagine how the students are feeling.

Next week, I will be remediating more grammar. Scary thought, that these kids are seniors and are struggling to identify how artcles should used. Grading has been interesting, and I'm now giving serious thought to peer grading. Mrs. Moore says we'll do that with the literature, but I don't know that I will use it for grammar. Organization and time management are essential, and I'm doing a reasonable job with it so far. But it will have to be better when I'm actually assigned my own class.

Week Two begins

I solved one of my biggest problems from last week: shoulder/hand pain. Thanks to all the books for World Lit (teacher's editions, to boot), I have been moving from place to place like a Christmas tree. Over the weekend I invested $25 in a rolling laptop carrier that holds textbooks nicely. Thank you, Target! Now I am rolling everywhere, which should, at the very least, keep my shoulders and hands from completely going out on me.

I have now begun doing grammar lessons for World Lit. As I've said before, these kids are seniors, but grammar practice is part of the curriculum. And we're talking basic parts of speech, not more complicated phrases. I have now done a couple of lessons in each section, and I should feel honored that Mrs. Moore has confidence in me to do the lesson. We talked through the lesson plans for tomorrow, and I think I'm getting a handle. I just have to keep my seating chart handy while I continue to memorize their names.

My biggest challenge facing me now is the unit planning. I have to bone up on Epic of Gilgamesh to help teach that, and I am solely responsible for The Iliad. For my theatre classes, I will be tagteaming for awhile with Mr. Scott (again, not his. real name) before taking on a unit on improvisation. Thankfully, I already have Katie McKnight's book that she did with Second City, and my background is decent on improv in general. I plan to deviate from focus on theatre games that Mr. Scott has typically done and incorporate a deeper understanding of improv as part of Chicago's fabric and the use of improv in developing characters. Should be fun.

Tomorrow night I have my first university seminar meeting as part of the coursework for student teaching. I just hope class.doesn't go too late, and that we cover relevant material.

Three Days in

I may very well have seen something yesterday that I might never see again in my whole teaching career. I reached my second section of World Lit with Mrs. Moore and was surprised to see Dr. A, the school's principal, in the room. He regaled the class with stories--I get the feeling he does that often. He asked the students, mostlu seniors, if they were excited at the prospects of graduating. One student (I'll call him James) said he wasn't sure he'd be able to, and Dr. A asked James to put his name on a card, along with his homeroom info, and he'd see what he could do.

After Dr. A finally left, James told Mrs. Moore that he had written down his friend's name. When she pressed, he said he was only kidding. Turns out that he wasn't. Today, Dr. A made a return trip, since James had sent him on a wild goose chase. He was not pleased. He took James into the hall, and when James returned, his mood definitely changed.
Dr. A spoke briefly with Mrs. Moore, who later told me that James was going to be suspended.

Here, a student made a really, really bad decision that could affect his life significantly. Dr. A may have been able to grease the wheels to get James closer to graduation. You can bet he won't be receiving any favors now.

First Day

It was nothing and everything like I expected.  Even riding the bus, I was impressed with the sheer numbers of students on the way to my high school. And I followed them, figuring they must know that the road that was blocked the other day must now be open. They were right. I checked in at the main office after navigating my way past the hordes of students going through metal detectors, learning the room number for the world lit teacher, Mrs. Moore (as stated previously, all names have been changed to protect identities). She gave me a short list of books to obtain from the English department head, Mr. Stevens—I just had to track him down. Mrs. Moore let me know I’d be working with her 2nd and 7th periods.

Mr. Stevens was not in the English office, nor in the adjoining journalism lab. I had seen someone who I thought had to be Mr. Stevens at the student teacher orientation, but I didn’t have a chance to talk to him then. Today, I had to find him. I circled the library and the halls surrounding his office, helping to direct lost students to their rooms even though I barely had any idea how the rooms were numbered myself—trust me, I must have gone passed the library and main office at least three times before I figured out which way took me to Mrs. Moore’s classroom! I decided to visit the teacher’s lounge and then cycled back to Mr. Stevens’ office. Again, no sign of him anywhere. Finally, I thought maybe I should be heading back to Mrs. Moore’s room, even though homeroom was still going on, when I spotted Mr. Stevens in the hall. Thankfully, he was able to inform me of my schedule, which includes three theater classes (Three! We didn’t have much more than that at the Academy, which was a performing arts magnet school!) and two sections of world literature for seniors. And then Mr. Stevens took me into this cavernous closet known as the home for English textbooks, which reminded me of the stockrooms when I worked retail. Mrs. Moore had requested the teacher’s edition for me, along with a workbook version of the text, and Mr. Stevens was undaunted by the challenge. Soon enough, he had excavated the lone teacher’s edition and told me that it was my lucky day and, with no uncertain terms, DO NOT LOSE THIS OR ELSE! The book is almost as heavy as my two-year-old—how can I possibly lose it?

He then guided me to the 1st period theater class, which, as luck would have it, is being covered by a sub this week. At least the sub is permanent sub for the high school, but the sub knows next to nothing about theater. Nor was he particularly good at distributing the syllabus, as he gave all of the students the one for a different class. I read the syllabus and took attendance, despite knowing that the sub should probably be doing that, since he’s being paid and I’m only forking out a large sum for the privilege. I figured it was a good way to learn the students’ names faster. Given how he was functioning, I have a much better chance of learning their correct names this way…

A new chapter is about to begin

Tomorrow I start my first day of student teaching. In the interests of student privacy, I will avoid naming the school, and all names of people will be changed to protect identities and ensure confidentiality. This blog is about my experiences and growth as I enter the world of teaching.

According to one of the assistant principals, I will be teaching World Lit and Theatre. I am ecstatic, as this is an opportunity to take advantage of undergrad experiences at Roosevelt University, where I obtained a BA in theatre. As far as World Lit, most of my reading this summer was comprised of international stories, whether in Germany (The Reader), Iran (Reading Lolita in Tehran) or Afghanistan (The Kite Runner). I have obtained short stories and sudden fiction (aka short short stories) by Latin American authors, and I also picked up some Holocaust-inspired works. It is an area in which my palette is wide open, as my world lit in high school was eons ago and still mostly Western works. Maybe I will be able to share some of my experience with Asian drama, especially the Japanese formats of kyogen and noh.

It should be an exciting day as I meet students, teachers and faculty, and start to familiarize myself with what will essentially be my home for the next ten weeks. New commutes, longer days (when adding in some part time work and the seminar classes tied in to the teaching), fewer off days will be challenging, as will having a reduced income, but I think my wife and I are as prepared as we can be and should get through it well. It helps having a flexible employer who will allow me to go back to full time when I am done until I am eventually hired for a teaching position.

Please stay tuned for what should be some interesting experiences as I try some new lesson plans and take the plunge into the next chapter of my life.

What will our children say about this night?

It is now official: the combat mission is over. No longer will we have the War in Iraq. We may still have an interminable war in Afghanistan, but hopefully this will help the country better allocate its resources and resolve the conflict.

How will this war be remembered? For all the atrocities of the Vietnam War, auteur filmmakers created some incredible stories and broadened the power of celluloid. Think about the first time you saw Marty Sheen staring at the ceiling fans with The Doors blaring into helicopter blades or Robert Duvall and the Flight of the Valkyries in the legendary Apocalypse Now. Or maybe Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket opened your eyes to the cruelness of war. Perhaps the Russian roulette games in The Deer Hunter are enough to churn your stomach. For me, it was the heart-wrenching scenes of Robin Williams addressing the troops in Good Morning, Vietnam. But the catalog of films from that messy and sordid chapter of American history only begins there. Platoon, Casualties of War, Born on the Fourth of July, Forrest Gump, The Quiet American and Across the Universe are just a few of the films that have explored some of the heartbreak and incredible cost of war at home and abroad. Will we see such an array of films about Operation Iraqi Freedom ten, twenty, thirty years from now?

Can’t you just imagine Benicio Del Toro playing the deposed dictator in Saddam on the Lam? Perhaps that might be too irreverent. A more poignant film might see the chaos of the Bush Administration’s infighting before Terence Howard (as Colin Powell) addresses the United Nations. Michael Douglas could portray the meddling Don Rumsfeld and you can dream up your own cast for the film versions of Bob Woodward’s superb trilogy. Or one might see Will Smith delivering the address given tonight by President Obama as he juggles the weight of immense domestic crises with unpopular wars and still other festering international disputes. One can bet that the horrors of Abu Ghraib will be revisited as the My Lai Massacre was a generation ago.

There are stories to be told. Who will tell them? 

Summer’s End

We are at the end of another weekend, the final weekend of August. Once again, I haven’t been able to read as much as I would have liked. Having a toddler certainly contributes to that, but I would also say that I always think I’ll be able to read more on vacations than I ever end up being able.

This was the summer I found more books than I ever have before, plundering book fairs and library sales. I read a couple of pageturners by Michael Connelly and Jonathan Kellerman, in addition to a couple of books by John Updike and the books previously mentioned in my blog, I have been working my way through Richard Wright’s Black Boy. So far, I find I enjoyed Native Son much better.

One more week until the unofficial end of summer, Labor Day. Maybe I’ll finish a couple of books by then.

End of War

After seven and half years, we finally reached the end of the War in Iraq. And yet, in a point I alluded to in my previous post, this war wasn’t real for most Americans. Yes, we saw the names of the fallen soldiers and Marines every Sunday on This Week with George Stephanopolous, and we saw the celebrations as local service members were welcomed home. But it wasn’t real, at least not in the way war was so immediate for Dr. Nafisi and her students, and especially for Amir in The Kite Runner. This was a war we watched on network TV until we cared about neither.

Yes, I have heard stories from servicemen and women about things that didn’t exactly make the nightly news. It was definitely all too real for them and their loved ones. For the rest of us, it was war of words, about whether the troops should be in Iraq and when should they leave. The bombs weren’t going off in our neighbor’s yard, and we didn’t have to wonder who we’d have to confront on the way to the store. I still stand by my opposition to the war, but I have nothing but the utmost respect for the men and women who faced the war that we eventually ignored. Perhaps the best way to honor those who have served is to find the stories of this war and share them with the students I teach.

Worlds Away

I must admit that while reading both Reading Lolita in Tehran and The Kite Runner, I was struck by how differently the world must appear to the respective authors than it did for me. For them and the characters in their books, war was immediate and omnipresent. It was not simply a chapter of homework or a 2 minute blurb on ABC World News Tonight—everything they did or saw was cloaked in the shroud of war. To escape it, they had to leave their homeland, or what remained. When I think of self-preservation, I worry about how I can stretch the next paycheck or whether I should be eating that extra cookie. For Dr. Nafisi, it meant huddling with her children while Tehran was bombed by Iraq. For Amir, he had to put his trust in strangers as he evacuated Afghanistan and on his return to the shell of Kabul. I can send my son to day care without any concern about political unrest. Just toddlers being toddlers, that’s all. No rogue mullahs attempting to usurp power here.

With all this talk about a “Ground Zero Mosque,” I wonder how many of those who are outraged would be more sympathetic if they had read more books like the ones I have just completed. Aside from the fact that the mosque in question would actually be a couple of blocks away from Ground Zero, I think many have made quite a leap, suggesting that mosques breed terrorists because of something intrinsic to Islam. Hello, who was behind the Spanish Inquisition?!!

My point is that if people understood other cultures a little better, there might be fewer such leaps. By no means do I claim to be an expert on any religion, especially Islam, but I belief my understanding of Muslims has been broadened by books such as those above and others, like the autobiography of Benazir Bhutto. Countless books open doors to the customs and rituals of Judaism, Catholicism and numerous other faiths. Think about where your knowledge comes from, how it is shaped. One might even learn considerably more about his own faith, and start to ask better questions or respond to the religion’s teachings in a different way.

Why baseball is like a good book

One of my favorite things about sports, especially baseball, is the fact that a good game is like a good book. You have a reasonable expectation for the outcome based on what you know about the people or characters involved, and then, a few unexpected twists and turns--in addition to adherence to the structure laid forth--you reach the conclusion with a satisfying resolution, even if the outcome isn't what you were pulling for.

Last night, at the Sox game, we saw lot of what one might expect: good pitching, fundamental defense and a few very good plays, and a couple of slight momentum shifts not unlike the action in a good book. In the ninth inning, it seemed a done deal. One of the Sox's most reliable pitchers came on to close out a 2-1 victory--except that didn't happen. A runner reached base, and then an eight-pitch at-bat ensued, one foul ball after another. Once the batter struck out, victory was in hand, no? Instead, the weakest hitter on the opposing team managed to take a splitter that didn't split and deposit it improbably into the left-centerfield stands. A sure victory for the South Siders was turned into a likely defeat.

Of course, when the evening ends with a spectacular fireworks display (more an epilogue than the story's conclusion) against the backdrop of a warm mid-August evening sky, one can feel satisfied that the ride was enjoyable, even if the hero didn't get the girl.

Finding a window to the world

Allow me to introduce myself. I have lived in Chicago for the last decade, falling more and more in love with the city all the time. Having published two books of poetry and a musical, I am now looking to share my enthusiasm for film and book analysis and juxtapose it against the local sports scene, among other things. Along the way, as I work my way into teaching high school, I will be sure to relay some of the literature revelations that I experience with students.

Most of all, I want to establish the important of hearing the stories of the world. Recently, I have read The Kite Runner, Reading Lolita in Tehran, and The Death of Josseline: Immigration Stories from the Arizona-Mexico Badlands, and there are many more interesting works to come. While I respect the right of each person to his or her own viewpoints, my goal to show people how literature (fiction and non-) can better inform decisions. In the end, opposition for opposition's sake benefits no one.

I hope that, by following this blog, you, too, find pieces of information that inspire you to read more about the world around, and maybe we'll share a laugh or two as well.