Another school year begins

I'm procrastinating right now. I have much to do before greeting my new students tomorrow, but I'm anxious and antsy. It's the normal condition of many teachers the day before school begins anew. This year I'm even more anxious than before. We spent the last week of professional development being given more papers, more forms, more binders than ever before. The amount of paperwork teachers already handle (without secretarial support, I might add!) is already unbearable. On top of that, we now have more data/information to keep track of. I honestly don't know how we're going to be able to do it effectively. I'm all for using data to drive instruction, but there has to be a better way to introduce and implement it. Every year teachers are expected to do more and more work. The average person has no idea what we are responsible for. I think people believe that, since they've sat in many classrooms, they know what teachers do. What teachers do in the course of a 90 minute lesson reflects hours and hours of preparation that no one ever sees. We do research, write lesson plans,prepare activities, create materials, photocopy, sort papers, present the lesson (to 30+ hormonal teenagers, many with social/emotional/intellectual challenges), correct papers, record grades and then start on the next lesson. Now we have to keep track of a binder full of data for each and every one of our 100+- students. When do we sleep? When do we spend time our loved ones? When do we unwind? I know I, personally, have to have "me time" in order to keep my sanity. I don't know how sane I'll remain this year with all the extra work.

Oh, and did I mention, teachers aren't getting cost of living raises this year. But, hey, that's okay. Dr. Alonso got his $29,000 bonus, so it's all good!

"Activist pierced by bullet, 'blessed' by God"

This is a headline on the Baltimore Sun's website. If "god" really existed and really "blessed" someone, I would think that he or she would have prevented the woman from being hit by the bullet in the first place. I'm waiting for the day when an injured person faces the cameras and says, "I blame god for causing me to be shot by that criminal!" How refreshing would that be?!

With all the churches in Baltimore, and all the self-proclaimed religious people, why aren't people looking around and saying, "Hmmm, maybe all this praying, singing and tithing to a mythical being isn't the way to go. Maybe we need to stop having prayer vigils and start doing something about crime. Maybe we need to have citizens' patrols, maybe we need to spend time with our young people, maybe we need to clean up the trash around our houses, maybe we need to take responsibility for our actions and be good role models, maybe we need to support our teachers and police officers, etc., etc.

I know who stole my bike!

Too bad there's nothing I can do about it. I came home from running errands on Friday and my next door neighbor called me over and told me he'd seen my bike. He said that a kid who lives around the corner on McHenry rode it right past our houses. He recognized it because it was attached to his fence for 3 weeks and it is an unusual color. Also, it's a woman's bike, which also makes it somewhat rare. I've been slinking through the alley and hanging out on the stoop in hopes of seeing it again, but no luck. He's either keeping it in the house or he sold it down on the Boulevard. I'm still watching, though. I have my trusty baseball bat. If I see him on it, I'd love to sneak up on him and smash one of the wheels with the bat and then tell him to call the police to report what I'd done. Fantasy, but it makes me feel a little better. I knew it had to have been stolen by someone from the neighborhood as my alley doesn't get much traffic from elsewhere. However, it makes me feel worse to know who took it and not be able to do anything about it.

It's my own damn fault!

A few weeks ago I "temporarily" left my bike in my yard. I'd been out of town with it and chained (cabled) it to my fence while I was unloading the car. It was so nice not to have it under-foot in my tiny house that I left it there with the intention of either bringing it in or getting a more substantial lock. Besides, I'm home a lot and my neighbor is home all the time. It was under my bedroom window and I was confident I'd hear anyone coming into the yard as the neighborhood cats always awaken me when they climb my fence. Stupid, stupid, stupid!!!! The irony is that I bought the bike through a police auction and had it refurbished. I'd only ridden it once this year - when I was out of town - but I'd planned on ridding it this morning in lieu of going to the gym. More irony. Up until May I'd had another bike which I'd donated to my school for its bike trips with students. Now I have none!!! Guess I can take the annoying bike rack off my car.

So, if anyone sees a lavender women's Cannondale H300 tooling through Pigtown, let me know...

Why I (sometimes) hate my neighborhood.

I don't care for air conditioning. It's fine when I'm at work, or dressed up, but I only use it in my house when the heat and humidity get unbearable. Fortunately, the weather has been such that I've not used it yet this year. Instead, open windows and doors and a fan have kept me quite comfortable. It also makes me feel like I have more space. My house is quite small, so having the the breeze and the sounds coming through the screens makes me feel less cramped. It's one of the things I enjoy most about warmer weather. The downside is that people see my front door open (I have a screen with 2 locks) and they seem to think it's an invitation. Sometimes it's just my neighbor who feels the need to shoot the breeze - something I'm not usually not interested in doing. Sometimes, like today, it's someone asking for money or food. That bothers me the most. I feel very conflicted about it. If they are seriously in need, I'd like to help them, but I'm concerned for my safety. They could be checking my place out with the idea of burglarizing it. They could think I'm a soft touch and come back again and again. I just don't know. I donate $ and items to local food banks/shelters and I've volunteered at a few (when my life was less hectic). I'm happy to help, but coming to my house and knocking on my door is not okay. It's just not. I'd never seen the guy that knocked today. He looked quite disheveled and said that he was looking for the man and woman, cops, who used to live up the street. Well, no such people ever lived up the street. He said that he was looking for some canned goods for his kids. I told him that I was unable to help him out but suggested that he go to Paul's Place. He said he'd been there, but they couldn't help him. WHAT?! Both statements raised red flags, so I hope I did the right thing. I feel bad. Really bad. I feel bad for turning him away and I feel bad for being annoyed that he knocked on my door.

Why I (sometimes) love my neighborhood.

I've lived here, in the same house, for 2o years now. It's the longest I've lived anywhere. I'm really a small town girl at heart, totally unprepared for some of the things I've seen and experienced here. Each time I visit my hometown, a place I left 30 years ago, I'm overcome with the urge to return to a place where most everybody knows (even after 30 years) who I am. While I also appreciate a certain amount of anonymity (like the mornings when I desperately run to the store, without make-up or a shower, in search of coffee!), from time to time the feeling of belonging hits me here in my urban neighborhood. Today is a prime example. I walked to the library (please patronize the library, I'm so afraid that it will be snatched from us due to under use/budget cuts). It was a quick trip to drop of one book and pick up one that was on hold for me. As I was checking out, the door opened and I heard someone come in and say, "Hello." I turned and returned the greeting, noting that it was my mailman. He placed some mail and a package on the desk next to me. He pushed the package toward me and said, "This is for you." I was stunned! Apparently he'd seen me out and was concerned that I wouldn't be home when he tried to deliver the package, causing me to have to take a trip to the post office tomorrow. Very nice! He's pleasant demeanor and helpfulness almost make up for the grumpy old white guys who work behind the counter at the PO!

BCPSS - Are things getting better?

Renewing my certification has always been frustrating. I have been given incorrect/incomplete information every time I've renewed. This time I thought I had everything complete. I'd taken my 6 credit hours and submitted my official transcripts a year in advance. Three months before renewal I emailed the certification office to verify that everything was set for renewal. No response. A month before renewal I again emailed. No response. I really wasn't worried because I was sure that I was fine. WRONG. On July 3rd I checked the MSDE site to see if I'd been updated. I hadn't been. On the 5th I went to North Ave. to see what was wrong. First she pulled out transcripts from my last renewal period (5 years ago) and told me that I was missing a signature on one transcript and that one course had been taken too long ago. I directed her to the UMBC transcript in her hand and told her THAT was the one I'd submitted for this renewal. Then she told me that I was missing 3 satisfactory evaluations. When I said that I've never had to submit evaluations before and was under the impression that, since one copy of our evaluations goes to HR, they would be on file. She showed me a copy of a letter that I should have recieved, but didn't, after the last renewal, stating that we had to submit evaluations. Before I left to return home to get my copies, I showed her copies of an email I'd sent asking about my renewal and asked why no one had responded. She just shrugged her shoulders. I hurried home, made copies of my evaluations and dropped them off. As of this moment, my MSDE status shows no changes...

Artscape - am I old or just curmudgeonly?

I used to LOVE Artscape. I would attend all three days, spending hours wandering from booth to booth and stage to stage. This year I almost didn't attend. I forced myself to go because I thought I'd regret it if I didn't. I took the Light Rail, arriving around 5 pm with the plan to walk around before planting myself in front of the main stage to see Robert Randolph & the Family Band - the only musical act I had any interest in seeing this year. After an hour and a half of fighting the crowds, I hopped back on the LR and headed home. I no longer have patience for fools who stop to talk in the middle of the flow of humanity, nor for people who stand in the middle of a crowd smoking, nor for morons who think that their dogs and/or their infants (in HUGE strollers) enjoy going to festivals. Next year I WILL stay home.