spring

Our Azaleas, originally uploaded by Blog-Sothoth.

I don't miss much about Towson--in fact I can barely stand driving there now--but I do miss our tiny yard and its cycle of flowering plants. This is the second spring in a row I've been deprived.

What makes it worse is the current owners of our old place plowed all our perennials down, including the azaleas, and put in a parking pad.

I think when summer comes I'm going to start working on a container garden. We have one tree on this lot, and no exposed soil other than that sidewalk tree well. I need some outdoor plants, dude. Maybe flower boxes in all the windows?

a few blocks east

I had an interview today at a Title I middle school a few blocks east of my current assignment. This school serves basically the same community as mine, but is a bit further outside of West Baltimore.

When I got to the school I noticed there were no kids running wild in the halls. There was no gang grafitti on the walls. There were soap dispensers in the restrooms. People were smiling. There was music coming out of the auditorium. Nobody was yelling. There was student art work--current student art work--in the display cases, and hanging on the walls.

I was interviewed by a panel of 8 women. They were no-nonsense, and didn't ask the standard "strengths and weaknesses" questions. They questioned me for 45 minutes, then offered me the job. I told them I would get back to them by the end of the week. I don't know that I want to teach 7th grade next year, even at a nicer school. But I know now I have an option if I choose to flee Booker T. "Our sixth graders are off the chain here," the principal told me at the new school. "We need someone who has handled their business at Booker T. to take charge of these kids next year."

Ha. Handled their business! The only sixth graders I saw at her school today were politely standing in line in the hall with their teacher. You can't get anyone in line at Booker T. And politeness? Ha.

I also have an interview at a charter high school on Friday. If they offer me that gig I'm definitely going to take it.

unforeseen

I never knew until this morning's Sun paper that the Ouija board was a Baltimore thang. Mine must be a late model, because it says "Parker Bros, Salem Mass" at the bottom. Salem seems more fitting a source for a bit o' board-game spiritualism than B'more.

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#25

So it's Christmas at my folks' house, and the time comes at these gatherings when my brother-in-law and I start talking smack about art films, books, meditation, spirituality, 20th century classical music, Henri Bergson, etc. He's a practitioner of Taoist meditation, he does Tai Chi every morning, he has a black belt in Kung Fu, he's a surgeon, he's a classical guitarist and a classically trained cellist, he's a father, he's a collector of Japanese swords, he's a wine connoisseur. And he's a Jew, so when we were discussing Alan Watts and he said "You know, the best book I've read about consciousness and non-duality was by a Jesuit priest," my eyebrows knitted themselves together in what I'm sure was a quizzical and bemused way, because my brother-in-law laughed and said "No, I'm serious. You need to read Awareness like tomorrow."

So I ordered Anthony DeMello's book from Amazon and put it on my nightstand in The Pile. And just after I had a crisis at work, I mean like immediately after I stood in front of a class and had one of those Deep Moments where everything slowed way down and I thought "Do I really want to do this? Do I really care about these kids? Or do I merely want people to think I care about these kids?" DeMello's book was next and I inhaled it and it contained great wisdom and truth.

You should read it like tomorrow, too.

#24

I'd thought that re-visiting Animal Farm a couple decades past the Cold War would perhaps diminish its charms. Wrong! Instead of porkers based on Stalin and Trotsky, we've got Cheney and Rummy and Karl Rove. Orwell most feared, after all, the tyrannical processes festering within the Western democracies. I think of his dystopian visions whenever I look out the window at West B'more and see the police surveillance cameras and helicopters flying over a community of desperately poor human beings.

Had I the inclination, or the skill, I'd write a parody with Wilbur and Charlotte at Manor Farm.

#23

The students at Booker T. hate this book. They despise it. They sleep when I read it to them. They perked up for a while when I taught them about Biblical allusions, and shame over nekkedness, and citizens taking pills to control their sexual urges. But only for a while. Baltimore City requires us to teach it, but they should reconsider, and find something the kids will enjoy more.

It's a shame they aren't engaged, because the book is actually quite good. An examination of utopian ideals gone badly wrong written for young adults. I'm hoping it appears on the Pedagogy exam tomorrow.

tunes

Heard a track from this on WTMD the other night. INSANE guitar work. Spent a few minutes looking for 2 Bob Crew, Two Bob Crew, Twobob Crew, etc. Finally went to the WTMD playlist for last night and found Toubab Krewe.

I'm often leery of these AfroPop blends, because a lot of crappy music has been forged in that furnace. The kind of music that guy you know who has a mullet but is bald on top listens to. He's got his shirt open to his beer gut, and uses a crystal in lieu of deodorant. He drums on his chest when he hears music. He burns fragrant grasses in his studio apartment.

But this CD is good. Not sure if it's up to the level of Tinariwen, but have only heard it a few times.

Day 144

I'm trying to read The Giver aloud to the class and Will and AC are squeezing and pinching and pulling on each other's nipples. I have to intervene twice to stop this, and then it continues anyhow. The girls are also touchy-feely. They grab my biceps, they stroke my stomach and ask teasingly when the baby is due, they're playing with each others' hair. Everybody wants to hug. The guys are hugging Lukie, the girls are hanging off my arms. When I'm lining up the class to dismiss them, Will and AC each grab and twist one of my nipples. I haven't had a titty twister since 8th grade. It still hurts. This, I suppose, is better than the recent YouTube teacher beatings in B'more. I couldn't help but laugh.

We had a schedule change today to accomodate what are called "small learning communities." Once a week we have an extra class in the schedule, based on results of student interest surveys. Lukie is teaching "Running for President." We have five kids who are going to mount mock campaigns, with posters, commercials, speeches and debates. This is going to be a blast. One of the students asked me to be her campaign manager. My own West Wing! The candidate told me she is going to end the Iraq War by not sending no more people over there. She will use the money saved to fix education. She has my vote.