I just got off for vacation and am currently sosososososoooooo excited for my red-eye Amtrak ride home tonight (lol jk no). So in the spirit of break, I thought I'd write about City Year! Woot woot!
To sum up most of the past couple weeks, my kids are the cutest, my teacher's the best, my team is a giant shlove muffin, Durim can now read 80 words a minute (up from 30!), and the gel inserts in my timbs keep shifting when I walk and it's super uncomfortable. I did have one out of the ordinary, adventury day. Do you wanna hear about it???????? Do you??!?!?!?!?!?!?
I'll tell you.
The day was December 15, and it began with my waking up 20 minutes before my alarm went off, and I couldn't fall back asleep. But I soldiered on and got ready as I usually would, bravely unperturbed by this cruel twist of fate. Except then when I got to my metro stop, I realized that I had forgotten my lunch. Whatever. Ish happens.
Now, I usually switch trains at Fort Totten, which, in my opinion, is a refreshing, low-key, low-stress, open-aired station. But no. Not today. Today I just had to switch at Chinatown, you know, to change things up a bit.
The Chinatown station is icky. It's an overcrowded, over-complicated, stuffy station (no offense G-Place, C-Town, but it's true). Trying to switch from the Red line to the Green is a real feat. You know that scene in 300 in which the Spartans form a human wall and push the huge Persian army off a cliff? The one that's on all the posters? It's like that. Except instead of a whole Persian army, I'm just me, so it's really unfair.
Yet once again I would not give up. I broke free of that suffocating crowd and made my way towards the gate to tag out (= how to avoid paying exit fare when you have a short trip metro pass and a too long commute). Suddenly, I saw a train approaching from underneath the platform, and knowing how unpredictable the green line can be in the morning, I forwent the tagging out and made a run for it. I made it with time to spare.
I was deeply engrossed in my space-out-on-the-train routine, when suddenly the tunnel opened up and I found myslef being shuttled over the Potomac. While that provides for a wonderful view, it is not supposed to happen during my commute to school. It was with dawning apprehension that I raised my gaze, and my eyes were met with that most contemptible of words, in neon writing suspended from the ceiling: YELLOW. Oh, how it mocked me! I was careening straight towards God Knows Where, Virginia, and there was nothing I could do about it. I kept my cool, lest any of my fellow passengers realize my grievous error. When the train pulled into a stop at Pentagon, I calmly got up, knowing that I still had time to turn around and arrive to school by eight. I waited for the doors to open with no trace of freaking out on my face. And I waited.
And I waited.
And then, would you guess what happened? The conductor came over the intercom to let us all know that a suspicious package had been found at Pentagon station ("Hey! That's where I am!"), and we would have to get off at Pentagon City. But first we waited at Pentagon for a good 15 minutes. But it was for my safety or something, so it was OK. When I finally got to Pentagon City, I was told that a shuttle had been requested to get to L'Enfant Plaza ("Great! That's where I need to go!"). So I waited outside of the station. And I waited. And I waited. For like a half hour. In the cold. There was zero communication. Then a bus, that had been parked next to me for that whole half hour, decides to make a run to L'Enfant. Well, how freakin convenient! I got on the bus (ever played "sardines"?), got to L'Enfant, took the bus to school, and got there at 8:50, just in time to miss my monthly literacy coordinator conference call!
Also, my class had a sub that day. They were not very well behaved. Not very well behaved at all.
At least there was a Christmas show put on by some of the students, which made the whole day all right.
Happy holidays!
P.S. I found out later that day that the "suspicious package" was a blinking Christmas ornament in a trashcan.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Best Week Ever
This was the Best Week Ever. I probably wouldn't be saying that if I hadn't made up a week's worth of sleep last night, but I did, so I can look back on this past week with no regrets.
I'll be honest; I don't really remember all of the events of the week in chronological order. There was just too much that happened, and by now it's all conglomerated into one big, scrumptious mess of Best Week Ever.
Monday night I was supposed to see a concert put on by the Anti-Defamation League at the Kennedy Center. Unfortunately, there was a mix-up with the tickets that were supposed to be allocated to City Year folk, so I couldn't go. Not unfortunately, there was another great event happening that night: Wes Moore, a "youth advocate, Army combat veteran, promising business leader and author" was giving a speech at GW on his book, The Other Wes Moore. I had never read the book before, but I had heard about it and found the story really inspiring. Wes Moore also has a reputation for being a great public speaker, and he is giving a portion of all the book's proceeds towards City Year, so a bunch of the Corps members went to hear him speak. For those of you who aren't familiar with his story, I suggest looking up his website, because he can describe it far better than I can. I will tell you that he is one of the most inspirational people I have ever heard. I stayed to get my copy of his book signed (biggest stipend splurge to date). I had to wait in line for an hour, but it was one of the more worth it things I've done. When it was finally my turn, he saw me in my uniform and gave me this look of what I can only call gratitude and thanked me for my service. He was so sincere in everything he said. I was a little shocked, because he his a man who has devoted his adult life to helping others, and he was thanking me! That's not something I'm going to forget any time soon. It made that night's dinner, which I ate promptly at 10:30, that much sweeter.
Wednesday morning I had to be at the office at 7:00 AM for this year's first corporate Breakfast of Champions (BOC). BOC's are open to anyone involved with or interested in helping or joining City Year. It's our way of appreciating those who help us, while also luring in potential corps members or donors. The corporate BOC's are aimed towards those belonging to - here's the shocker! - corporations. I was there to give tours of the office, talk about City Year, and show off some of the CY culture (PT, anyone?). I got to meet some team sponsors and others interested in giving to City Year. I also got to eat a lot a lot of pastries (and I mean A LOT). So it was a great time.
Thursday night I obviously went to see Harry Potter. I was suuuuuper tired, but it was super awesome. I haven't read the book since it came out (I know, shame on me), but it made the movie extra enjoyable. I wasn't all, "OMG that isn't what's supposed to happen!" And that snake was freakin scary.
Friday, my class went on a field trip to The Phillips Collection, an art gallery in Dupont Circle. I have never seen my students so well behaved before. They got so into it! I found out that one of them is an absolutely incredible artist. On the bus ride over, I sat next to Jovanka, who I had previously labeled as "the girl who pushed me and whined all the time and lied more than she told the truth." We had a really great time. She asked me if I was born with my hair and told me all about her family and her Thanksgiving plans. We sang (she stumbled through) bits of "Seasons of Love." She asked me to teach her that big number some time ("It's like, 'five thousand three hundred thousand,' or something like that").
The whole week was filled with some really quality interactions with students. I'm starting to grow really attached to the first graders, who I work with for after-school clubs and Starfish, an after-school program City Year runs as a mini City Year of sorts for first through third graders. In arts and crafts club, we had them write about what they're thankful on different colored paper leaves. My favorite was "I am thankful for City Year teach me mooves." One of the girls surprised me with a hug one day and said "I love you so much!" They're all just precious. I wish you could see their faces.
And now for the absolute highlight of my week, and possibly even my time with City Year so far:
I was working with Amon (or rather, doing everything I could to keep him away from his classmates). His house recently burnt down, so I've been especially wary around him lately. He didn't want to read, so I improvised and decided to do something with the map of the world on the floor. He would throw a nickel up, and I would tell him the name of the country where it landed. When it landed on Russia, he told me that his father had been in jail in Russia, but it wasn't so bad, because he visited him on weekends and it only took about 2 hours. The whole time I was working with him, he didn't call me any derogatory terms or threaten to shoot my boyfriend once (read: big improvement). Right as he was getting tired of our game, Durim came over to me and asked if we could read a book together. I said yes, and he chose The Giving Tree, which is an absolute tear jerker. I asked him to sit with me so I could read it, but he defiantly sat down on a chair and told me to sit on the carpet. He was going to read to me.
Understand that Durim is possibly the worst reader in the class, including those in special ed. On a reading assessment in which he was supposed to be able to read a minimum of 100 words in a minute, he read about 30. I saw one of his written responses in class one time, and in the whole paragraph (which was surprisingly lengthy), the only correctly spelled word was "mother." "Her" was "re," and "and," in," and "a" were all interchangeable. Most of the "words" were incoherent strings of consonants that he couldn't even read back to me. Couple that with the fact that he has quite an abysmal track record behaviorally, and you can imagine why I didn't have very high expectations.
He opened the book in such a way that I could see the pictures and began: "Once there was a tree..." He read in the sweetest voice I'd ever heard come from him. He made sure to pause before he turned each page, so that I could see the pictures. He didn't get frustrated when I had to feed him a word. He just kept barreling on. I'm not exactly the incarnate of Niagra Falls that my mother is, but I have a hard time fighting back tears just thinking about it. He kept looking back at me to make sure I was listening, and read the book with all the right vocal inflections. When he read "'Come boy,' she whispered," he caught himself and proceeded to whisper the entire page. He made it all the way up until the final three pages, at which point the class was transitioning and he got too distracted.
I was pulled out of my reverie and had to read the last bit to him, but the feeling I felt while he was reading to me still hasn't entirely left me. The change I've seen in him this last week is staggering. He is working harder and behaving better than I have ever seen him. Every day he makes sure that I tell Mrs. Zeljak and Mrs. Dodik how good he's being. And I don't ever hesitate to.
I'll be honest; I don't really remember all of the events of the week in chronological order. There was just too much that happened, and by now it's all conglomerated into one big, scrumptious mess of Best Week Ever.
Monday night I was supposed to see a concert put on by the Anti-Defamation League at the Kennedy Center. Unfortunately, there was a mix-up with the tickets that were supposed to be allocated to City Year folk, so I couldn't go. Not unfortunately, there was another great event happening that night: Wes Moore, a "youth advocate, Army combat veteran, promising business leader and author" was giving a speech at GW on his book, The Other Wes Moore. I had never read the book before, but I had heard about it and found the story really inspiring. Wes Moore also has a reputation for being a great public speaker, and he is giving a portion of all the book's proceeds towards City Year, so a bunch of the Corps members went to hear him speak. For those of you who aren't familiar with his story, I suggest looking up his website, because he can describe it far better than I can. I will tell you that he is one of the most inspirational people I have ever heard. I stayed to get my copy of his book signed (biggest stipend splurge to date). I had to wait in line for an hour, but it was one of the more worth it things I've done. When it was finally my turn, he saw me in my uniform and gave me this look of what I can only call gratitude and thanked me for my service. He was so sincere in everything he said. I was a little shocked, because he his a man who has devoted his adult life to helping others, and he was thanking me! That's not something I'm going to forget any time soon. It made that night's dinner, which I ate promptly at 10:30, that much sweeter.
Wednesday morning I had to be at the office at 7:00 AM for this year's first corporate Breakfast of Champions (BOC). BOC's are open to anyone involved with or interested in helping or joining City Year. It's our way of appreciating those who help us, while also luring in potential corps members or donors. The corporate BOC's are aimed towards those belonging to - here's the shocker! - corporations. I was there to give tours of the office, talk about City Year, and show off some of the CY culture (PT, anyone?). I got to meet some team sponsors and others interested in giving to City Year. I also got to eat a lot a lot of pastries (and I mean A LOT). So it was a great time.
Thursday night I obviously went to see Harry Potter. I was suuuuuper tired, but it was super awesome. I haven't read the book since it came out (I know, shame on me), but it made the movie extra enjoyable. I wasn't all, "OMG that isn't what's supposed to happen!" And that snake was freakin scary.
Friday, my class went on a field trip to The Phillips Collection, an art gallery in Dupont Circle. I have never seen my students so well behaved before. They got so into it! I found out that one of them is an absolutely incredible artist. On the bus ride over, I sat next to Jovanka, who I had previously labeled as "the girl who pushed me and whined all the time and lied more than she told the truth." We had a really great time. She asked me if I was born with my hair and told me all about her family and her Thanksgiving plans. We sang (she stumbled through) bits of "Seasons of Love." She asked me to teach her that big number some time ("It's like, 'five thousand three hundred thousand,' or something like that").
The whole week was filled with some really quality interactions with students. I'm starting to grow really attached to the first graders, who I work with for after-school clubs and Starfish, an after-school program City Year runs as a mini City Year of sorts for first through third graders. In arts and crafts club, we had them write about what they're thankful on different colored paper leaves. My favorite was "I am thankful for City Year teach me mooves." One of the girls surprised me with a hug one day and said "I love you so much!" They're all just precious. I wish you could see their faces.
And now for the absolute highlight of my week, and possibly even my time with City Year so far:
I was working with Amon (or rather, doing everything I could to keep him away from his classmates). His house recently burnt down, so I've been especially wary around him lately. He didn't want to read, so I improvised and decided to do something with the map of the world on the floor. He would throw a nickel up, and I would tell him the name of the country where it landed. When it landed on Russia, he told me that his father had been in jail in Russia, but it wasn't so bad, because he visited him on weekends and it only took about 2 hours. The whole time I was working with him, he didn't call me any derogatory terms or threaten to shoot my boyfriend once (read: big improvement). Right as he was getting tired of our game, Durim came over to me and asked if we could read a book together. I said yes, and he chose The Giving Tree, which is an absolute tear jerker. I asked him to sit with me so I could read it, but he defiantly sat down on a chair and told me to sit on the carpet. He was going to read to me.
Understand that Durim is possibly the worst reader in the class, including those in special ed. On a reading assessment in which he was supposed to be able to read a minimum of 100 words in a minute, he read about 30. I saw one of his written responses in class one time, and in the whole paragraph (which was surprisingly lengthy), the only correctly spelled word was "mother." "Her" was "re," and "and," in," and "a" were all interchangeable. Most of the "words" were incoherent strings of consonants that he couldn't even read back to me. Couple that with the fact that he has quite an abysmal track record behaviorally, and you can imagine why I didn't have very high expectations.
He opened the book in such a way that I could see the pictures and began: "Once there was a tree..." He read in the sweetest voice I'd ever heard come from him. He made sure to pause before he turned each page, so that I could see the pictures. He didn't get frustrated when I had to feed him a word. He just kept barreling on. I'm not exactly the incarnate of Niagra Falls that my mother is, but I have a hard time fighting back tears just thinking about it. He kept looking back at me to make sure I was listening, and read the book with all the right vocal inflections. When he read "'Come boy,' she whispered," he caught himself and proceeded to whisper the entire page. He made it all the way up until the final three pages, at which point the class was transitioning and he got too distracted.
I was pulled out of my reverie and had to read the last bit to him, but the feeling I felt while he was reading to me still hasn't entirely left me. The change I've seen in him this last week is staggering. He is working harder and behaving better than I have ever seen him. Every day he makes sure that I tell Mrs. Zeljak and Mrs. Dodik how good he's being. And I don't ever hesitate to.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Gimme some more of that vitamin D!
Natural light is one of the best forms of therapy. I had the pleasure of leaving my apartment this morning to a glorious blast of sunshine to my face. It was such a pleasant surprise, after the past month of dark-cloaked departures. All my love and admiration goes to Mr. Daylight Savings. My high school history textbooks simply did not do him justice.
Now, the notable part of today:
Today, I got to leave school in the middle of the day to do PT for the Eighth Annual Catalog For Philanthropy (CFP) Kick-Off Volunteer Opportunity, launching the 2010 Giving Season. PT (physical training), is something we do at City Year to "inspire the community around us, and to prepare our minds and bodies for a powerful day of service." It consists of a varying assortment of exercises led by the PT crew (super enthusiastic corps members) and executed by the whole corps. We usually do PT outdoors in very public places, which is totally awesome, but today I had the treat of doing it at the Sidney Harman Center (on a real stage!). At one point, we had the whole audience get up and do one of the moves with us! It was pretty silly.
The theatre we were in had these acoustics that just knocked my black or white socks off. I have to admit, it made me a little nostalgic for my high school days spent on the stage (you know, way back when). At least there's no shortage of theatrics in my daily life. At the school I work at, one gets a healthy dose of love ("He liiiiiiiiiikes youuuuuuuuuuuu!"), sabotage ("He threw that pencil!" "Nah, she did!"), good guys and bad guys ("Imma steal you!"), and, of course, comedic relief (can't think of a good one liner off the top of my head; you'll just have to take my word for it that fourth graders are freakin hilarious).
Now, though the sun has set, I can enjoy the end of the day in my favorite way: eating homemade (Rachel-made) pumpkin pie with a side (I use that term liberally) of $4-a-gallon neapolitan ice cream from Giant, listening to the gently lilting sounds of some trashy new sitcom Zack is watching a few feet away, and wishing Tiffer's chicken tenders were in my belly (update: snagged one!). So to you, Mr. Savings: thank you. Thank you for a beautiful, sunshiney, City Year day.
Now, the notable part of today:
Today, I got to leave school in the middle of the day to do PT for the Eighth Annual Catalog For Philanthropy (CFP) Kick-Off Volunteer Opportunity, launching the 2010 Giving Season. PT (physical training), is something we do at City Year to "inspire the community around us, and to prepare our minds and bodies for a powerful day of service." It consists of a varying assortment of exercises led by the PT crew (super enthusiastic corps members) and executed by the whole corps. We usually do PT outdoors in very public places, which is totally awesome, but today I had the treat of doing it at the Sidney Harman Center (on a real stage!). At one point, we had the whole audience get up and do one of the moves with us! It was pretty silly.
The theatre we were in had these acoustics that just knocked my black or white socks off. I have to admit, it made me a little nostalgic for my high school days spent on the stage (you know, way back when). At least there's no shortage of theatrics in my daily life. At the school I work at, one gets a healthy dose of love ("He liiiiiiiiiikes youuuuuuuuuuuu!"), sabotage ("He threw that pencil!" "Nah, she did!"), good guys and bad guys ("Imma steal you!"), and, of course, comedic relief (can't think of a good one liner off the top of my head; you'll just have to take my word for it that fourth graders are freakin hilarious).
Now, though the sun has set, I can enjoy the end of the day in my favorite way: eating homemade (Rachel-made) pumpkin pie with a side (I use that term liberally) of $4-a-gallon neapolitan ice cream from Giant, listening to the gently lilting sounds of some trashy new sitcom Zack is watching a few feet away, and wishing Tiffer's chicken tenders were in my belly (update: snagged one!). So to you, Mr. Savings: thank you. Thank you for a beautiful, sunshiney, City Year day.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Why I'm generally in bed by 9:30
I love my students. I love them I love them I love them. It's curious how the thing that drains me to the point of sheer exhaustion every day is the same thing that fuels me and keeps me sane. I knew children could be a handful, but I didn't know to what extent. I also didn't know how quickly I would grow to absolutely love them. I guess if kids had no redeeming qualities, the human population would have gotten its tubes tied a while back. But I digress.
I thought it was about time to introduce my students, through a mask of anonymity granted by a Slovenian name generator, to my three or four close relatives who read this blog. The main characters:
Ms. Zeljak Fourth grade teacher extraordinaire, she exudes the kind of "mama bear" persona that makes her both feared and revered by all of her students - not to mention other students, and even faculty members. She is a force to be reckoned with, and absolutely wonderful to work with.
Ms. Dodik Former teacher, and now the dean of students, Ms. Dodik has been credited with turning the school around. This woman runs the school. She has been a part of the Ferebee community for well over twenty years, and knows every student and his uncle. You don't mess with Ms. Dodik.
Ilse The closest thing I have to a model student. She's sweet, funny, kind, well liked by everyone, and probably the coolest fourth grader I have ever met. Everybody loves Ilse. She, along with most of her classmates, is under-performing in reading and math, but that's not for lack of trying.
Durim In a movie, he would be one of the kids I set out to "fix." I took him outside the classroom to go to the bathroom once, and he used the opportunity to run laps around the fourth floor for five full minutes, shrieking and cackling the whole time. Rarely a day goes by that he is not summoned to Ms. Dodik's office. However, more frequently I've been seeing signs of sensitivity and trying in him, and I have to say, it's priceless. He's one of the farthest behind academically, reading at around a first grade level, but lately I've seen him put in a little more effort. Durim and I are going to have fun this year.
Lirim Another one of the "bad boys" of the class, though not as notorious as Durim. Lirim tends to act out in a more subtle way, making snide remarks whenever I pass by or refusing to follow directions.
Jovanka This girl has attitude. The famous Jovanka pout has become a regular feature in Ms. Zeljak's class. At first I thought her stubborn facade to be impenetrable, but then I learned about her background. Jovanka is the baby in a family of ten or eleven siblings, and has lived with Aunt Giorgina for almost her whole life, due to her mother's history of substance abuse. A little love goes a long way with Jovanka. We've definitely had some great moments.
Zala Did I mention attitude? I don't think I knew attitude until I met Zala. We have had one or two good days, but most of the time she likes to remind me of how much better last year's City Year was and how much she hates the new City Year. She would win the award of class clown; I have to admit, it can be hard not to laugh at all the faces she throws me when Ms. Zeljak's not looking.
Karel Karel. What can I say about Karel? He is one of the sweetest kids I have ever met, and every day he surprises me further by sticking up for a picked-on classmate or saying something extremely insightful. Karel is quiet and soft-spoken, but his smile can just melt your heart. He can run into trouble through hanging with Durim and Lirim, but he respects me more than any other student. According to Ms. Zeljak, Karel has a bit of a record, but it has yet to show.
Marija Marija had to transfer to our class a couple weeks ago due to behavior issues in her previous class. She can be extremely rambunctious and has mood swings like nothing I've seen, but I've there's some definite good in her. She's also significantly more advanced than most of her peers at reading - that is to say, almost at grade level.
Lizika Lazika is very behind and acts far younger than most of her classmates. She shuts down easily and doesn't have many close friends in the class, so helping her has been a struggle.
Matej One of the students enrolled in special ed, I don't get to see him as much as the others. When he is in class, he has the effect of brightening my day. He is the closest thing I've seen to a human embodiment of a puppy. Unfortunately, he rarely seems to be able to grasp what's going on around him.
Diko Ms. Zeljak tells me that Diko spent much of last year in the hospital, for unknown reasons, and since then, has seemed a little off. Diko is sweet as can be, but, like Matej, can seem a bit oblivious at times. The positive side of this is that he is always happy, but I have never seen him stay on task for more than five minutes at a time, and he tends to find himself missing recess for reasons unknown to him.
Karmina Karmina is doing relatively okay academically (key word "relatively"), but she can get a bit moody. She is always vying for my attention and help, which is good because it means she's interested in learning, but not so good because she needs to become more independent in her work. The cries of "I need heeeeeeeeeeeelp" are starting to get a bit grating.
Amon Another one of the big "problem students." Amon is also enrolled in special ed, but he is the farthest thing from timid and gentle Matej. Amon is the shortest kid in the class, even though he is already ten, and he seems to supplement self-esteem issues with violence. It is rare to see Amon walking down the halls without a school administrator leading him by the hand. The school has all but given up on him. Amon is reading below kindergarten level, but boy, can this little guy run his mouth. However, it could be wishful thinking, but I think I'm growing on him. It's been over a week since he's given me any attitude. I'd like to say Amon and I are starting to form a special bond.
Anton Probably the most social kid in class. He's a little chatterbox with the girls he sits with during class and doesn't hold back with the boys at lunch either. Anton is one of the best kids I've ever met, ever. He's pretty behind in reading, but leads the class in math and has memorized the names of almost all the presidents in order. His favorite music is rap, hip hop, and classical.
Dejon Along with Durim and Diko, Dejon is one of the boys I'll be helping the most with literacy. Dejon's a sweet kid with a big heart, but he gets frustrated very easily with schoolwork. Dejon is usually better behaved than most of the boys, but he has a tendency to slip when provoked. Dejon is one of my favorites to observe during lunch, as he often leads the other boys in freestyling. I have to say, the boy has rhythm.
There are 23 kids in the class, but these are the ones I'll be working with the most. As to why so many of them are so far behind, Ms. Zeldak tells me that all the current fourth graders had a pretty incompetent teacher in second grade, and for all intents and purposes, should have been held back as a grade, but logistically, it made no sense. So they moved on to third grade, in which half of them were met with another sub-par teacher. Consequently, a majority of them are now reading at a first or second grade level.
All I can say is, it's a good thing they're cute.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
That's not my name
Upon telling people what I'm doing this year, they tend to respond with something along the lines of "Oh my gosh! How are you adjusting to the long commute/ change in scenery/ minimal stipend/ unfamiliar demographics/ timberlands?" Surprisingly, my transition from suburban life to, well, whatever it is one would categorize the way I live now, has been relatively easy. There has, however, been one notable culture shock for me. And that is going from being one of three "Hannah F's" in my grade of 450 to being the only Hannah the roughly 300 students at Ferebee-Hope have ever met.
Now, this wouldn't be worth mentioning, except for the semi-recent cultural phenomenon revolving around a certain Disney Channel show. Hannah Montana. Maybe you've heard of it.
The first couple times a student read my name-tag and asked me if I was, in fact, the bewigged superstar, I simply answered "yes" (just for kicks). But when some of the students started believing me, I decided to change my approach. Now the interaction goes something like this:
Student: Miss...
Me: Hannah.
Student: Like Hannah Montana!
Me: No. Like "Ms. Hannah."
Student: Ms. Hannah Montana?
Me: Ms. Hannah.
Student: Ms. Hannah.
Me: That's ri-
Student: MONTANA!
I've learned to just deal with it. My other big challenge has been trying to explain what freckles are to my kids, a majority of whom have never even experienced a suntan. Any ideas?
Now, this wouldn't be worth mentioning, except for the semi-recent cultural phenomenon revolving around a certain Disney Channel show. Hannah Montana. Maybe you've heard of it.
The first couple times a student read my name-tag and asked me if I was, in fact, the bewigged superstar, I simply answered "yes" (just for kicks). But when some of the students started believing me, I decided to change my approach. Now the interaction goes something like this:
Student: Miss...
Me: Hannah.
Student: Like Hannah Montana!
Me: No. Like "Ms. Hannah."
Student: Ms. Hannah Montana?
Me: Ms. Hannah.
Student: Ms. Hannah.
Me: That's ri-
Student: MONTANA!
I've learned to just deal with it. My other big challenge has been trying to explain what freckles are to my kids, a majority of whom have never even experienced a suntan. Any ideas?
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Basic Training Academy
Here is where I sum up my first 6+ weeks in DC in one post:
It started with the 10 hour drive from Boston down to Silver Spring. That wasn't hugely eventful, so I'll spare you the details. I finally got to meet my roommate Rachel, with whom I'd previously only conversed through phone, email, and facebook. Within the first couple hours, we got the sense that we'd get along famously, and so far that's held true. The next day Rachel and I held something of a roommate audition for Zack and Tiffer, our two other potential roommates, at a nearby Starbucks. We liked them enough, so we agreed to add them to the lease that night. So that's my household, for the most part. It's pretty ballin.
My first official City Year experience was a full day registration extravaganza! I waited for about three hours to get fingerprinted, but it was all fun times, because I got to wait with City Year people (and they're the best people). And it was so worth it, because next time some unknowing citizen mistakes me for a criminal, I can whip out this piece of paper that PROVES that from the time I was born through August 11, 2010 I was never accused of felony. Chyeah. Also, it means I can work in D.C. public schools. The rest of the day was spent signing a LOT of paperwork. And so ends registration.
August 16 marked the beginning of Basic Training Academy. BTA is what City Year called the six weeks we spent learning the ropes of CYDC. On day one, we were split into our "crazy teams," randomly assigned teams of eight to ten corps members, with whom we learned about City Year culture before being assigned to our official "flagship teams." That first day, after getting to know the members of my crazy team (named "Rabbi's Gift (fo' sho!) after a City Year founding story (founding stories are a collection of inspirational fables and stories that preach morals that City Year strongly upholds)), we went head-first into service. We spent half the day volunteering at a community center in Southeast, playing with the kids there and leading them in various games. It was definitely a good way to start off the year.
The rest of that week was spent learning about City Year and the different teams we could be on. That Friday we filled out a pretty intense survey that, along with what the staff managed to glean about us from our initial City Year interviews and various interactions that week, would determine which team we'd be placed on.
That weekend, if I remember correctly, was my first optional service day. I went to Stanton elementary in Southeast for a beautification project. It was a couple days before school started, so everyone was in crunch mode, trying to get the school in shape. I spent the whole morning working in the garden at the front of the school in 95 degree heat. I picked up about a gazillion cigarette butts, pruned some bushes, and planted a bunch of mums and grassy things. Suffice to say, I looked pretty cute and not at all gross by the end of it. Despite the physical exhaustion, I found the experience to be extremely rewarding. The school looked so much more inviting than it did when we started, and I got to know some of the CY senior corps and staff, as well as the members of other nonprofits, pretty well.
After that weekend of nail-biting suspense, we were finally assigned to our flagship teams. I was assigned to an elementary school in Southeast D.C. In 2006/07, only 16.3% of the students at my school were proficient or advanced in math, and only 17.7% in reading. The school has been restructured since then, and now the numbers are closer to 30% in reading and math, but it's still pretty sobering. So many of the kids qualify for free or reduced school meals, that the school provides three free meals and a snack to all students every day. But you'll hear plenty about the school in later posts.
Wednesday, the whole corps of 140, along with the senior corps and staff, left for our three day Basic Training Retreat. BTR was held at a gorgeous family camp in Maryland on the Chesapeake Bay. The corps liked to joke that instead of a relaxing retreat, BTR was CY's excuse to work us 14 hours a day. Long hours aside, it was a really eye-opening, memorable experience. I heard some amazing speakers, got to bond with my new team, and participated in a talent show and a spontaneous dance party. However, the highlight for me was the privilege line. The privilege line began with the entire corps holding hands in one long line in silence. It was a gorgeous day, and the setting was tranquil and beautiful. A staff member read out directions, such as "if you live in a household with two parents, take a step forward," or "if your parents are divorced, take a step back." The directions dealt with family, race, gender, religion, sexual orientation, and socioeconomic status. Those who had attended a private school took a step forward, and someone who felt he or she had been denied a job based on race took a step back. By the end of the activity, hardly anyone was still holding hands. The privilege line was followed by a whole corps discussion, in which we talked about what it meant to be privileged. I was amazed by how diverse the corps was, in every aspect, and how we almost all agreed that the standard measures of privilege don't adequately describe how rich a person's life can be.
The rest of BTA was a whirlwind of trainings in math, literacy, and behavior, coupled with observations at my school. The days were long and it was hard, often boring work, but I learned so much. City Year is huge on surveys and other types of feedback, but whenever I was asked what else City Year could help me with before I began official service, I would answer that BTA pretty much covered all bases.
And now we get to the really fun stuff.
It started with the 10 hour drive from Boston down to Silver Spring. That wasn't hugely eventful, so I'll spare you the details. I finally got to meet my roommate Rachel, with whom I'd previously only conversed through phone, email, and facebook. Within the first couple hours, we got the sense that we'd get along famously, and so far that's held true. The next day Rachel and I held something of a roommate audition for Zack and Tiffer, our two other potential roommates, at a nearby Starbucks. We liked them enough, so we agreed to add them to the lease that night. So that's my household, for the most part. It's pretty ballin.
My first official City Year experience was a full day registration extravaganza! I waited for about three hours to get fingerprinted, but it was all fun times, because I got to wait with City Year people (and they're the best people). And it was so worth it, because next time some unknowing citizen mistakes me for a criminal, I can whip out this piece of paper that PROVES that from the time I was born through August 11, 2010 I was never accused of felony. Chyeah. Also, it means I can work in D.C. public schools. The rest of the day was spent signing a LOT of paperwork. And so ends registration.
August 16 marked the beginning of Basic Training Academy. BTA is what City Year called the six weeks we spent learning the ropes of CYDC. On day one, we were split into our "crazy teams," randomly assigned teams of eight to ten corps members, with whom we learned about City Year culture before being assigned to our official "flagship teams." That first day, after getting to know the members of my crazy team (named "Rabbi's Gift (fo' sho!) after a City Year founding story (founding stories are a collection of inspirational fables and stories that preach morals that City Year strongly upholds)), we went head-first into service. We spent half the day volunteering at a community center in Southeast, playing with the kids there and leading them in various games. It was definitely a good way to start off the year.
The rest of that week was spent learning about City Year and the different teams we could be on. That Friday we filled out a pretty intense survey that, along with what the staff managed to glean about us from our initial City Year interviews and various interactions that week, would determine which team we'd be placed on.
That weekend, if I remember correctly, was my first optional service day. I went to Stanton elementary in Southeast for a beautification project. It was a couple days before school started, so everyone was in crunch mode, trying to get the school in shape. I spent the whole morning working in the garden at the front of the school in 95 degree heat. I picked up about a gazillion cigarette butts, pruned some bushes, and planted a bunch of mums and grassy things. Suffice to say, I looked pretty cute and not at all gross by the end of it. Despite the physical exhaustion, I found the experience to be extremely rewarding. The school looked so much more inviting than it did when we started, and I got to know some of the CY senior corps and staff, as well as the members of other nonprofits, pretty well.
After that weekend of nail-biting suspense, we were finally assigned to our flagship teams. I was assigned to an elementary school in Southeast D.C. In 2006/07, only 16.3% of the students at my school were proficient or advanced in math, and only 17.7% in reading. The school has been restructured since then, and now the numbers are closer to 30% in reading and math, but it's still pretty sobering. So many of the kids qualify for free or reduced school meals, that the school provides three free meals and a snack to all students every day. But you'll hear plenty about the school in later posts.
Wednesday, the whole corps of 140, along with the senior corps and staff, left for our three day Basic Training Retreat. BTR was held at a gorgeous family camp in Maryland on the Chesapeake Bay. The corps liked to joke that instead of a relaxing retreat, BTR was CY's excuse to work us 14 hours a day. Long hours aside, it was a really eye-opening, memorable experience. I heard some amazing speakers, got to bond with my new team, and participated in a talent show and a spontaneous dance party. However, the highlight for me was the privilege line. The privilege line began with the entire corps holding hands in one long line in silence. It was a gorgeous day, and the setting was tranquil and beautiful. A staff member read out directions, such as "if you live in a household with two parents, take a step forward," or "if your parents are divorced, take a step back." The directions dealt with family, race, gender, religion, sexual orientation, and socioeconomic status. Those who had attended a private school took a step forward, and someone who felt he or she had been denied a job based on race took a step back. By the end of the activity, hardly anyone was still holding hands. The privilege line was followed by a whole corps discussion, in which we talked about what it meant to be privileged. I was amazed by how diverse the corps was, in every aspect, and how we almost all agreed that the standard measures of privilege don't adequately describe how rich a person's life can be.
The rest of BTA was a whirlwind of trainings in math, literacy, and behavior, coupled with observations at my school. The days were long and it was hard, often boring work, but I learned so much. City Year is huge on surveys and other types of feedback, but whenever I was asked what else City Year could help me with before I began official service, I would answer that BTA pretty much covered all bases.
And now we get to the really fun stuff.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Good morning, City Year!
So I probably should have started this a while ago. Within the last month and a half, I have accumulated more tell-worthy stories than I had in my previous 18 years. The sparknotes version: I moved out of my childhood home for the first time in my life to live in an apartment with three virtual strangers in a city I had been to only once before. Now I pay for my own food, rent, laundry, and toothpaste, all on a "modest living stipend." I spent six weeks meeting 140 new people on a very deep level and learning how to sound out the word "cat" using phonemes for ten hours a day. Now I wake up at 5:30 five days a week and come home after seven. Between those hours, I can be found tutoring, quieting, dodging, chastising, chasing, helping, instructing, leading, and hi-fiving a rambunctious conglomerate of first through fourth graders.
Although the only people who will ever read this blog belong in my immediate family (Hi mom! Hi dad! Hi Nadav!), I figured I should probably specify what exactly it is I'm doing this year. What I'm doing is called City Year, and said city is Washington, D.C. And what exactly is City Year, you might ask? Well, if you are one of the business professional types I see every morning on the metro, I would answer:
City Year unites 17-24 year olds from across the country for a full-time year of service. We are stationed in 20 cities in the US, and have international sister sites in London, England, and Johannesburg, South Africa. We focus primarily on combating the drop-out crisis in public schools, but also try to engage the community in service. I, specifically, work in an elementary school in Southeast D.C. where I'm on a team with 8 other corps members. Each of us are assigned a grade (I have fourth), that we work with during the school day, after which we provide after-school support. Most CYDC teams work on similar teams, but one focuses more on engaging middle schoolers and the surrounding community in service, and another provides HIV/AIDS awareness and prevention education to middle and high schoolers.
However, if that cute guy from CVS were to ask me what it is that I do all day that leaves me so fashionably disheveled (by the way, smokin' jacket), I would have to reply:
City Year is a way that the government can put 17-24 year olds to work in some of the nation's worst performing schools for 10 hours a day on a $200 weekly stipend. And it's the best thing I've ever done.
It's all true. The days are grueling, but I mean it when I say that it's the most rewarding experience of my life. I've met some of the kindest, warmest, most radiant young people through City Year, and don't even get me started on my kids. The social aspect, the work aspect - all of it just fills me with the bubbly fuzzies. And the stipend isn't even that hard to stretch, especially when you're sharing a two-bedroom, one bath apartment in Silver Spring, MD with three other roommates and a temporary couch surfer.
Alright. I'm gonna go sleep for a while. Remind me to thank Christopher Columbus when I get the chance.
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