Livin' La Vida Teacher

Well, I made it.
Phew.

When they say the learning curve your first year teaching is steep....they don't say how steep.  We're talking like 98% gradient. Straight. Up.

But it's good.
Well, it's getting good.

I'm new. The kids know that and they're testing me.  I also have very different expectations than the previous band director (or so I'm learning).

To date, I feel more comfortable with 2-8th graders than I thought I would.  Though I still struggle with the younger ages.  I didn't think I had to come down hard on the younger ages, but from what the experienced teachers are telling me, I do.

What else I've learned:
- What works for one class of 1st graders probably won't for the second. So always have about ten different activities in the back of your mind.
- Organization is key
- Communication is key
- Love your administrative assistants
-....and your maintenance man (my guy, Andy, is awesome)
- Don't take gruff from anyone
- Sometimes, those kids, they're just gonna cry. Let the tears flow. They won't screw around again after that.

But, as it is Saturday, and I sit at a local coffee shop (certainly not my favourite, but right now they boyfriend is employed here and got called in to work on his morning off wherein we were going to have a date with fresh, homemade caramel rolls.........long story...anyway, here I am) grading papers and doing some other "office type" work for class, I'm pretty darn happy.  I feel content.  I can remember being 9 years old and giving my younger brother "lessons" in math and reading and enjoying teaching him and grading him so much.  This is just like a "grown up" version of that.

The lady next to me just dropped an olive all down her front. Aww shucks woman. Your white shirt isn't so white anymore.

Sarcasm. Sorry.

In continuing with the verbal vomit, maybe I'll explain why I don't care for this particular coffee shop.
Croissants? Oh yea, $4-6 (and they're not nearly as good as QCB's in SF...thus, in my mind, they're not worth that much).
A Slice of Quiche? $6
1 Cup of Pour-Over Coffee (12oz) $2 (it's mediocre)
Pizza? $9-17 (it's not filling)

You get the idea. Not the quality nor the quantity deserved for what you're paying. (In my mind).

So who would pay that kind of money? The yuppies of Bozo.  I really have a hard time appreciating people who buy fancy things at expensive places just because they're perceived as "fancy" by the society.

The "I eat here because it makes me seem high class" mentality.

But maybe that's just because I believe in the "I eat here because the food is good, good for me, and it supports the local community" mentality.

And I'm bitter that the place called Nathan in to work when we were supposed to have a date morning.
Caramel rolls from scratch aren't easy, my friends. They're time consuming. And not fun to eat alone.

So.
Lesson for the week:
1) Caramel Roll dates are likely to be interrupted. Don't do 'em. Make the rolls for co-workers.
2) Puppies continue to kick butt (Koda is awesome and loving it out here).
3) Yuppies are Nopeys.
4) Kiddos grow on you. But some of them take a reallllly long time.

Montana

Just under 2 weeks ago (already 2 weeks, wow) I moved to Bozeman, Montana for a teaching job.

The first week I was here was spent with Nathan and Koda, getting to know the area.  I also spent that week at the school I'm working for.  I walked into a situation where the previous band director and I have completely different organizational styles, and so it seemed like there was a lot to do.  I spent most of those days cleaning, organizing, and trying to figure out what I was going to do.

Last week was all PIR days at the school.  Those involved a learning curve that was steeper than any of the mountains around here, meeting the staff (who all seem fantastic), and working on the classroom.  I feel so thankful to be at the school I am.  The Superintendent, the Principal, and all of the staff are exceptionally welcoming and supportive of the music program.  I feel so lucky.

My parents came up this weekend with a U-Haul full of stuff from South Dakota.  I'm not good with "Good-Bye's" in general. Normally I just get really awkward and walk away quickly. But, with parents, it's more a tear-jerker situation.  I love them and am so thankful for their support.

That's all I'm going to say, because words aren't going to do any justice.

Now, I'm sitting at Rockford Coffee with Nathan, writing a blog while I should work on lesson plans. Really, I'm just trying to process this entire transition. It's quite a lot.

Best,

Soup!(er)

Below is a recipe for some soup that I mentioned in the Vlogs my friends and I do between each other:

2 eggplant (mid-sized)
1 zucchini
1 red/green bell pepper
carrots
2 tomatoes
olive oil
1/2 shallot/onion, sliced
2 cloves garlic, sliced
2-3 c. chicken stock
1 1/2 tsp. curry
1/2 tsp. cayenne
opt. Sour Cream/Cottage Cheese

Directions:
1) Slice the eggplant, zucchini, peppers, and tomatoes in half.  Place on foil covered baking sheet, sprinkle lightly with salt and bake in the oven at 400 for 20-30 minutes (until skins come off the eggplant easily).

2) While veggies are roasting, saute the shallot/o and onion for 5 minutes. Then add the garlic and saute for 30 seconds.  Then add the chicken stock.

3) When veggies are done "roasting", allow to cool 5 minutes, then remove the skins from the eggplants, zucchini, and tomatoes.  Bring the chicken stock concoction to a boil and add all the veggies (this is where you throw in the carrots).    Add cayenne and curry (and any other spices you may like!). Boil for 10 minutes.

4) After boiling, allow to cool for a few moments. Then, throw the entire soup mixture into a food processor and blend until desired consistency.

5) Serve with a dollop of sour cream/cottage cheese (if desired) and something to cool the palate down with.

ENJOY!

A Letter to Mahli

(Pre-Script Note: Mahli is an engaging and wonderful individual that I have known since we were 12-13 years old. We're now 22 years old. Do the math. Relationships like those are the ones that you hold on to with all of your might and love with all of your [platonic] heart.)

Miss Mahli,

Today, you get aboard a hunk of metal, soar into the air, cruise in the air for a while, descend, and arrive in a completely new culture. A new sort of civilization that you fell in love with 3-4 years ago.

You have been working and saving and learning for the past 3-4 years just so you could get in that hunk of metal and land in Mexico.  I'm so proud of you for achieving your goal.

I know that there are a lot of uncertainties, now that you've gone and are completely on your own, basically for the first time in your life.  Well, perhaps on your own physically (minus the factor of one very lucky dude).  But you're definitely not on your own emotionally or support-wise stateside.

When I met Mahli, I didn't like her. She seemed mean and bossy and pushy.
Seemed being the key word in that sentence.
I judged Mahli at face value for something I don't think she even realized she did.
(She cut in front of me in line with her friend Angie at volleyball tryouts in 7th grade).

I've learned a lot from her and that first experience.

I have a lot of really fond memories of this lady. And writing them all would be virtually endless.
But we did have one tradition throughout High School that I remember fondly.

Nearly every Friday evening, we would get together at her house. With Puppy Chow (the human treat) in tow, we would spend the next 1-2 hours watching Most Haunted.

Yes, we were silly back then.
We're still silly now.

And while we were watching it. We would talk. We would catch up (our classes often didn't coincide). We would gossip like silly girls.

And that was wonderful.
It was cathartic for both of us.

College brought about separation.
(Mahli, don't tell anyone, but you were one of two people I actually cried about leaving. It was silly of me. I'm generally an internal emotional roller coaster, no matter the stoic appearance.)

But we stayed friends throughout the next for years, even with minimal communication.

And we're going to stay friends throughout the next however many years, with communication.

It's always a much more difficult thing to say "Good Bye" to people, when you know that you can talk to them online at nearly any moment. It's like they're always here and the break/separation is not actually happening.  There isn't a clean break, and that's something that the generation before me and my generation and the generations following me have to deal with.

How do you say "Good Bye" while logging on to a chat platform and saying "Hello" simultaneously.

It's tough.

Mahli, I cannot adequately express, in written form, how pleased I am to have known you for the past years of our lives.  We've had a typical friendship in many ways, but an extraordinary one in others.  I want the best for you, Miss Mahli.  Know that, if you should ever need any help, I am always a phone call away (no matter the stupid "roaming" fee the cell phone company may put on it).

All my [platonic] Love,
Feegieweegielemonsqueegee

The Human Condition

Still and all, why bother? Here's my answer. Many people need desperately to receive this message: I feel and think much as you do, care about many of the things you care about, although most people do not care about them. You are not alone.

Kurt Vonnegut

Some people know "what they're supposed to do" from the very get-go.  And by get-go, I mean as a child.  They may not know that they know it, but they know it.

I don't know if it's appropriate to say that I fall in that category or not.  I knew that, in those moments when I was teaching my younger brother, Derek, to do fractions and read as we sat beneath my bunk bed in a bean bag chair with my makeshift dry erase board, I was truly enjoying myself. Even if Derek didn't always grasp the concept right away. 

I enjoyed watching him learn. 

And I'm pleased to say that he is a very fine mathematics student to this day. 

(I like to think that I contributed to that in some way).

I knew, inherently, at that time that I was meant to be a teacher of some sort.  Whether it is just through talking with people and learning and teaching things via regular conversation or as the head of a classroom with the official title of "Miss F", I knew that I loved watching people's eyes as they absorbed and made sense of new information.  In the education world, we refer to it as the "Aha!" moment.

Or at least, on the Great Plains we do.

So right now, it's fairly easy to say that my discontentment with life comes not from my living situation (a spacious apartment/duplex with a dog is nothing to be discontented with), or my social situation (happily with a fella, have good friends I can call on any time and a supportive family), but it is with the fact that I feel like I'm not sharing and teaching enough.

It has taken me most of the summer to realize this.  I am happiest when I know that I am going to be a positive influence on someone that day.

(or, at least, I hope I'm a positive influence)

Which brings me to Mr. Vonnegut's quote.

For a long time.

Seriously. A Long Time.

I felt like:

 "Why does no one else seem to care so deeply as I do about eating foods of quality over quantity?" 

"Why does no one seem to care about the fact that our precious planet is being killed?" 

"Why does no one seem to care about the education system in our state?"  

"Why does no one question things?"

I mean, occasionally I would find one person who would think about  a few of the same things as I did.  I found friends that I could engage in conversations about these topics with.  In those ways, I found myself.

But, I felt like my education had failed me.

I felt like those were questions we were supposed to entertain in the later years of high school.  Sure, they may not be "on the test". The may not even mesh exactly with the subject matter, but anything can be taught in context if you try hard enough.

(I firmly believe that.  You want me to combine math and music? Done. Music and literature? Done. Music and science? Done.)

Anyway, that is why, I think, in High School I was content, but discontent.  Why I was constantly feeling like I need to find ways to push the envelope. To try and find ways to think (if that makes sense at all). I knew that there were questions that I wasn't being encouraged to ask, and I needed to find out what they where and why I should be asking them.

I felt like I needed a teacher to say:

I feel and think much as you do, care about many of the things you care about, although most people do not care about them. You are not alone.

So, when I decided (and by decided, I mean continued to fulfill the calling that I had felt since I was 10) to be a teacher, I decided that I wanted to be a teacher that continually reassured students that there is always someone that you can talk to.  If they bring up a topic I don't know about, I, as the teacher should be so interested in encouraging them to be curious that I will do research on it myself, or point them in the direction of someone with similar interests who will be happy to ask questions with them.

I want to be a teacher that students remember as a mentor more than a lecturer.  A guider of those with curiosity versus a talker of topics and nothing else.  I think that may be the concept of a true educator, way back in the day, back when people asked questions and didn't accept the status quo.

So, I guess what you could say is that I want to be old-school.....yo.

Hypocrisy

"Go put your creed into your deed.  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson"

In other words, friends, actions speak louder than words. Or, perhaps, we should back up all of our talk with actions.

Let me begin by stating outright that I fully acknowledge that I am a hypocrite, and that even in writing this, I am increasing my hypocrisy tenfold.

But I try, so very hard, to not be a hypocrite. 

One of my biggest pet peeves is when people say one thing, and do another. When they profess to living the lifestyle of one personality, and actually live the lifestyle of the exact opposite.

(Like I said, guilty as charged).

I get annoyed with drivers who are driving recklessly quickly,

but in turn, if I am in a hurry, do the same thing.

(Which begs the question of "Why do we hurry?" and "What's wrong with arriving precisely when you are meant to (like a wizard)?"....to be discussed at a later date, I would suppose).

And sometimes I catch myself and say "Well, Andrea, they could be on to a VERY important meeting, or perhaps someone is sick, or perhaps this....perhaps that...."

And then my inner gut says "Yes, and you know what excuses are like."

Unacceptable for most part. On all grounds. I should be more tolerant because I should love them and feel compassion for them because they are a living being. They should slow down because they should love and feel compassion for other individuals, and because there are very few things in this world that truly warrant rushing.

(If Nathan reads this, he knows how unbelievably hypocritcal I am being right now, I'm the queen of punctuality and untimeliness tends to drive me insane.)

Or, perhaps the hypocrisy that kills me the most, and the one that caused me to seriously reflect upon my personal beliefs/philosophies/religious understandings.

Back log, for those who know me, skip the next two paragraphs.

 
I work at a coffee shop in my home town, and we get a variety of customers. Everyone from the pre-teen who is testing out their new found driving skills and freedom by meeting up with friends, to the middle aged mom catching a coffee between children's activities, to the loner old man who loves nothing more than "A 12oz coffee, blueberry muffin, heat it up please with some butter and plastic fork, and a glass of water with plenty of ice" - Every.Single.Morning.  

One significant group of customers that we cater to is the religious group. (Ie: Pastors, their wives, their congregation, their bible study groups, the individual doing a personal bible study, etc).  I bear no bad bones about this people. I think the fact that they are trying to truly understand what they believe is incredible, and I wish more individuals did something like that.

Everyone back with me?

Alright.

So it's that latter group that I see daily, the religious individuals, that cause me the most hypocritical angst.  We have some folks that come in daily, daily, or perhaps even multiple times a day and order expensive drinks.

Awesome for business.

But how are all of their congregation members doing financially?

There is a lot of hidden poverty in the city I live in, and I find it hard to believe that the hundreds of dollars they spend every month at the coffee shop couldn't be better redirected to someone who needs the help more. And all of the time they spend just hanging out at a coffee shop? It could also probably be much better redirected.

Within this group, there are also a lot of older, wealthier individuals (often female), that preach to being awesome Christians. Yes, them. With their pounds of makeup, lots of jewelry, fancy Coach bag ("No it's not a knockoff! It's original!").  They, who treat the staff at the coffee shop like underlings. Like indentured servants to their caffeinated desires. These are the people that caused me to truly question my religious understandings. To look around while sitting in Mass and see more people with more things than they will ever need, wearing ridiculous things that they don't need, coated in cologne/perfume that is just causing everyone else around them to gag throughout the entire service, because they want to smell nice.

You see, my problem is that it is very ego-centric. The understanding of religion, specifically Christianity, in this area.  Everything is fine and dandy and "Our God is an Awesome God - As-Long-As-I-Can-Keep-Driving-My-Escalade-To-Get-My-Nails-Done". 

It kills me. 

I grew up Catholic. I went through a Catholic school system and got a very good education (if a bit biased). I am undeniably grateful for the opportunities presented to me by my parents and the sacrifices they made. 

But with this education, I've learned a lot about what the figurehead, Jesus, preached in a way of a lifestyle.

Here, want a good idea, let's start with the Beatitudes and move from there to the Ten Commandments.

Anyway you slice it. These individuals aren't even close to following the core, the essence, of their belief system. The moment they talk down to a staff member at the shop because the drink isn't just right, they've strayed. 

My big question is then, do they repent?

Unfortunately, I think the attitude of "I get what I want" is so inherent in society and the culture, especially around here, that it doesn't seem wrong.

But remember, I, too, am a hypocrite.

But I acknowledge it.

And I work on it daily.

Because to be a hypocrite is the biggest annoyance in my life right now, and it will be for the rest of my life. But perhaps, because I am trying to be better. Because I am making a sincere, dedicated effort to improve my existence, I can say that yes, I am a hypocrite, but I am a progressive hypocrite, working to change and improve daily.

Terrifying Monotony

I'm convinced that the time after you graduate from college but before you've secured a "real job" is possibly the most terrifying time of your life to date.

At least, that's how I feel.

I wish I could say that I've been able to do a lot of great thinking. And, perhaps, I have. But life seems to keep me so busy that I'm not able to really focus on developing thoughts.  I thought that this summer was going to be the summer for that, but between work and the Civitas project, my thoughts have been a bit preoccupied.

Between those two things, and the puppy:

(and "aww" is totally appropriate here)

Anyway, perhaps one thing that I've learned is that, if the department of education ever did decide to do it, and if all the schools perhaps stuck to it as well, creating a host site for all open education positions with a wonderful search engine would be the best creation ever.

Seriously.

EVER.

Anyway,

I'm still alive and all is relatively well.

I'll be sure to have something decent posted here soon. And hopefully on a regular(er) schedule.