Testing and the whiners

It seems to me that just about every student becomes “emo” when they have to take a test. « Oh French is so hard. You don’t understand. I fail my tests to feel alive. » This never ending litany of complaints needs only its own soundtrack. Or rather, it becomes, I suppose, its own soundtrack at the end of each unit in our textbook. Thank goodness for the few who study and practice and pay attention. They sing a different song: one of success.

Frustration

One of the greatest frustrations a teacher may find in his career is caring about a student. So much like parenting, teaching has pitfalls, too. When you are friendly, students can misinterpret your intentions. Let me clarify; students feel that as your friend, you'll let them do as they please. But they need to remember, I am the teacher, not the friend. When I remind them, call them to task, they may shut down, and it can take time for them to realize that by doing my job as the teacher, I am a better friend than they realize. Boundaries and limits, structure and discipline, caring and sensitivity--it's all very much like my role as a father.

Starbucks

in the coffee shop
hearing the music bee-bop
I stop
after work
the barista at the counter
takes my order
a soy lattè
and a cookie
sugar that I need
in order to succeed
at resting
relaxing
calming
my nerves
caffeine has the reverse
effect
affecting peace in my
spinning head
my body dead
tired
not wired
mired in worry
over job children boyfriend
others enter the café
at the end of the day
children play
and dance about
and a man in boots
caked in mud
does homework from a thick
book
look at the rain
on the street
alternately pausing and
coming down in sheets
women with thin lips
wide hips get no-whips
a dude with a broken nose
and Cope in his pocket
poses tough at the
register to order his
cappuccino
with a double shot
hot
almost no one stays
to meditate
or contemplate the by-gone day
men in tight pants
with soft bellies
barely notice the time
as they drop a dime
in the tip jar
no one socializes
except two lesbians on
the terrace
beneath the awning
my moleskine rips
more coffee drips
the Mont Blanc glides
rides
slides across smooth paper
recording words
not heard
only written
peacefully after little
thought
only casual observation
and minor invention
little retention
of rhyme or meter
until the venti cup
empties

Afternoon respite

Lounging and enjoying a glass or two of dry red wine is very nice indeed. It helps put off the more frustrating thoughts about the upcoming New Year. Only one more day until 2007, and I'm ready to start a new year. However, I could use a little more time before returning to school. This last semester was an arduous trial without a real planning period. This next semester will be one step more difficult, a fifth level of French to teach. Please, send help.

French ogre

I must have been Mr. Mean this semester. Although I don't teach so that I get Christmas cards or little gifts, it is nice to be remembered. Perhaps the stress of teaching an extended schedule shortened my patience just a bit too much.

There was one in 85 that did think of me as other than a grumpy giant. Thanks. I appreciate being remembered more than you can realize. Teaching isn't really a thankless job, and I'm glad that sometimes I reach students beyond the classroom. Joyeux Noël à tous!

Holiday doggie dangers

What a harrowing night!

Whilst I worked away teaching French to my students, my dog decided to eat a small Christmas ornament. Don't assume he was home alone. My father, bless him, could not begin to keep up with my dog who, if a toddler, would be in the midst of his terrible twos. Despite grandfatherly vigilance, my Beau chomped on a tiny glass snowman and ingested a few little jagged bits. However, it wasn't until nearly 6 PM that the dog decided to regurgitate those bits onto the floor.

Panic sets in quickly.

Being a father and a pet owner, the adrenaline can get going just as easily when either loved one is in a potentially dangerous condition. I was on the way to the vet and speed dialing the clinic's number in less than 5 minutes. Fortunately my decade trusted veterinarian was able to reassure me, and instead I needed only to stop at the drugstore for some stomach remedies and to monitor my dog through the night.

Fortunately, within a few hours the vomiting tapered into to peacefully puppy sleep.

Thank goodness for generic pink bismuth, bread slices and patience.

Surprise, surprise

Well, my extremely wonderful and generous boyfriend, coupled with a nice translation job has helped realize part of my holiday wish list.

The kids and John will receive custom engraved iPods in their stockings this Christmas: (Product)red nano for my daughter, silver nano for my son, and video for John. I don't know that much else will be under the tree, but I think Santa will get rounds and rounds of applause this year.

Those of you out there wondering what to get now that this is done, there's always room for iTunes gift cards or an introductory eMusic subscription. Wink-wink, nudge-nudge.

Youth Today

They are so worth it! Trust me. I've been lucky enough as a teacher to see many students that I'm glad will be running the country when I'm in my twilight years. But today, I was given the reassurance that open-minded, well intentioned, concerned young people are out there. Even one a school year gives me hope. I know the hope isn't lost.

For my hero N...

When you receive your teaching license and a principal gives you a classroom, they tell you that students will consider you a role model and that you will serve as a mentor to young people. What they don't tell you is that some of the students will think of you as more than that: friend, brother, father, hero. That last one is a stunner.

This year it really has hit me just how intently my students watch and observe me. They want to know everything about me, and I don't really want to let them all see too much. But sooner or later you get students that, basically, you love. There are certain ones that you care so deeply for that when they hurt, so do you. When they laugh, you can't help but smile. When they triumph, you rejoice. I care about all my students. I want them all to succeed. But every now and again, I have one or two that I want to see make it to the moon, to the sun, to farthest, brightest star. They come in small waves, students whose future it's as if I can see it laid out before me, little signposts ahead where they can stop and be great. Somewhat selfishly, I hope they'll look back from that future greatness and maybe nod or wave in thanks.

What kind of student inspires that esteem from a teacher? It's sometimes the child who speaks French like a prince of Versailles and could be a great artist. Another one wants to be a Navy pilot but decides to go to Tech. Other times it's the girl who decides the teacher's alma mater will be hers, too. Once it was the boy who took his own life, and you couldn't foresee or stop the tragedy. Or it can be the boy who wears cool pants, plays guitar and gets arrested.

In some ways, they become like my own children though I do not try to supplant their parents. Because I am the teacher, I cannot be a friend. They trust me, so I do not betray them...ever! Instead, I awake at 2:15 worried whether my recommendation letter was good enough, whether that unbearable sadness is over now, whether that one is safe at home.

So to all teachers, tread lightly. Know that you are someone's hero. Love your students like you would your own children. Be careful. Be honest. Don't try to be cool. Be kind. Keep high expectations. Reserve disappointment and show it with care. Direct criticism toward improvement.

For N..., thanks for the hard work, the trust, the music, the stick figures, the finished homework, the laughter, the respect.

Cable's new anti-hero

Dexter on Showtime (www.sho.com) is the latest interpretation of the anti-hero from the cable network.  Starring Michael C. Hall of HBO's Six Feet Under, the series realizes Jeff Lindsay's Darkly Dreaming Dexter.  I've never read the book, though I've read "slasher" fiction before.  It's well acted; however, I don't care for all the narration.  It would almost be better I think if Dexter just spoke directly to the camera.

Despite the presence of chopped and mangled victims in some scenes, it's really not the most gruesome thing on television.  Not actually seeing all the gore makes for better mental imagery that I can edit myself as needed.  Definitely, the show targets a more intellectual audience and less the teen market.  The parallel with the evil serial killer makes for an interesting plot line that I hope will carry it well through the season without being over played.  Let's hope there series keeps quality without cashing the gore check.

Holiday wish list

• my parents to be here for Thanksgiving
• my children to live here with me and to visit their mother only every other weekend and half the school vacations
• my boyfriend to have a job he enjoys within 50 miles of our home
• an iPod Nano for each of my children and my boyfriend
• a 14 karat gold class ring for my graduate degree that I earned 6 years ago
• tickets to Paris for my children, my boyfriend and me
• Trading Spaces or While You Were Out to refurbish and restyle my classroom
• a clear heartworm test for my dog Beau
• regular, small translation jobs that pay well

Fall...again

Now that the cool winds swirl down upon me from the North Georgia mountains, I find it difficult not to look upon the might-have-beens of the year as it draws to a close. Another year has passed where I did not travel to France. Another year has passed where I have not taken any courses to renew my teaching certificate. I feel as if I am in a kind of limbo but not knowing either what lies beyond the boundaries of that limbo. Work is challenging only because there is not even a second to breathe between classes. My own lack of organization leaves me struggling with small mounds of paperwork to complete at home on a nightly basis. Only seeing my children every other weekend and my boyfriend only two days a week leaves me emotionally drained.

However, I am on the road to repair, even if only in the most literal of senses. After more than a decade since chipping the pearl in it, I have sent of my university class ring to be replaced. The watch that my boyfriend gave me and that I broke by accident is finally on its way to the warranty center to have the crystal and batter made anew. My car will have a new visor soon thanks to a solid warranty from Hyundai. So on a very material level, all is not in limbo, simply in a wait queue or in postal transit. By the time the holidays approach in earnest, perhaps my outlook will have changed for the better.

Windows everywhere

It seems that as Vista approaches, Windows is inserting itself everywhere through the Windows Live interface.  One can even access a blog through Windows Live, as I'm doing now.  I'm not sure what has become more pervasive: Windows or the government.

Hoya makes the world better

Tonight I watched Charles Gibson on ABC News tell the world how my classmate, Dikembe Mutombo, had built a hospital in DR Congo (formerly Zaire) in honor of his mother. I remember at my graduation from Georgetown's School of Languages and Linguistics how my grandfather had gone up to the herculean basketballer to congratulate him on his success on the court and in his education. Peeved would hardly begin to describe my emotion when I had wanted my grandparents to focus on my academic achievements. But in the end, I see how much Dikembe Mutombo has done for his home country, for the image of the NBA, for the reputation of professional athletes, for the betterment of humanity. I'm proud to have shared a classroom with him, proud also to call myself a Hoya of the Class of '91, proud to live on the same planet. Congratulations, Congo, on your new hospital.

Airport security

After watching news events unfold over the last few weeks--Iraq, Lebanon, Britain [pick a website, any website]--I find that the pundits, politicians and podcasters have reveled in the FUD (fear, uncertainty & doubt) [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FUD] that makes for great ratings but little useful information. In a report on local news in the Atlanta area, a soundbite hit the proverbial nail on the head for me: authorities need to be looking for dangerous people, not potentially dangerous things. Denying a baby it's pacifier, keeping a teenaged boy or girl from his or her iPod--now that's crazy. I understand security, but I don't understand paranoia.

La rentrée / Back to school

Tomorrow begins another year of teaching. This will be No. 12 for me. I am getting older every day. Yikes! For the first time ever, my schedule is simply chocked full of students. My day has no room for planning as I am on an extended schedule...for the entire year! The good news is that I have 6 students going all the way to French V. I may very well get that AP class next year. In the meantime, I'm going to have to stay on top of my lesson plans, so that I don't get overwhelmed. Fortunately, only 3 out of 8 of my classes are comprised of students completely new to me. The rest are all students matriculating to the next level of French studies. Being the only French teacher at my school, I have the great advantage of observing students as they mature and another in developing a strong teacher-student bond with them. It's going to be a very good year; I can feel it.

Superman Returns

Last Saturday the four of us went to see Superman Returns. Mr. Brandon Routh is a great Clark Kent and a super Superman. Kevin Spacey was maniacally convincing as Lex Luthor. What intrigues me most is whether Warner Bros. will keep Jason White in future installments to this newest incarnation of the Superman universe. I am a big fan of the Son of Krypton, especially in movies and on TV. My only regret is not building the comic collection during my youth. At least there were my best friend Evan's copies of DC comics to peruse as often as I could. My advice: go see the movie, even if only to drool over the Man of Steel.

Sun & art

Apart from reading while I sun beside the pool, I enjoy sketching the environment whether man-made or natural. With some mental editiing, I removed the fencing, safety equipment, picnic table and the rules sign. I liked the composition.

Then I decided to paint this scene. Finally, I cracked open the travel watercolor set that my boyfriend John gave to me this past Christmas. The little paint pans were difficult to open with my fat fingers, but after getting it all setup, I think I put together a nice little painting. But for proportion and balance, I believe the sketch is superior.

You say it's your birthday?

Well, it's my birthday, too (and Donald Duck's). A whopping 37 years I've been on this Earth. Today my boyfriend surprised me with a ring. It's not a "commitment" ring, but it's beautiful: titanium with a blue topaz stone. I love it. My children gave me funny greeting cards. Thank goodness there were no ties or belts or wallets. For the most part, this has been a day like any other. Do I feel any older today? I don't know if it's just today, but I do feel that in the last year, I have aged. There are ten extra pounds that have crept back around my waist. They've got to go. All the bad carbs need to get out of the house. So do I. More walks with Beau, more swimming at the pool - and not just sunning - and perhaps, I can whip myself back into some kind of shape. There's no way I'm padding my midsection like I used to do. I don't want my daughter to start calling me Santa Claus again.

Gay terminology that you might not know

Geritwink [dʒє’-ri-twiηk’], n. The aging queen who dresses and behaves as if the two digits of her age were reversed, i.e., a 51-year old with the exposed midriff and short shorts, prancing about as if she were still 15 (from Indo-European ĝer-, to ripen, grow old + Gay American slang twink, a young, fit and attractive male, usually with less-than-average intellect, possibly from the Hostess brand Twinkie snack food).