In general, the first couple days in Manhattan were filled with chores. Me and my roommate Ms. Classen held our last review session for our kids Sunday afternoon. Despite promises from several kids' parents, only Enrique and Carlos showed up. Unfortunately, as a result, Genny is going to repeat the 6th grade. She's "smart," or at least has the potential to be, but she thinks she's dumb since she sometimes doesn't understand so she doesn't try. As we walked up to meet Enrique, and Carlos, and his parents, it was the first time they had seen us outside of the shirt and tie that we wear during class. "Mr. Kudo, you WEARING Converse?" My response: "Shizzle."
On a side note, it's really fucking hot here right now. Enrique told me that the other day he was playing 2-on-2 full-court basketball and he fainted. Bear in mind that it's stupid to play 2-on-2 full-court basketball in this kind of heat but that gives you an idea. I was in Union Square later that day and with the sun shining down, it's started pouring rain. Sun + Rain. What the hell kind of weather is this? The rain hitting the pavement would turn into steam. Why did the fucking Dutch people think it was a good idea to settle here? Idiots.
So, because 22 was closed, we headed up to this local Cuban restaurant to do the review. As soon as we walked in, Carlos shouts, "This place smells just like my room." We got some coffee's and waters and began to do problems. About halfway through, we notice that they're struggling a little. As always, we ask them if they got enough sleep last night and it turns out that they didn't turn in until 1-2 a.m. Apparently Enrique was watching this movie "With this guy, who's got these guns, and then he pulls it up, and he's got more, and he's like 'What you got?' And the other guys are like 'This yo.' And then they pull out this bazooka, and shit, it was funny but I can't remember the name." To which I respond, "You mean, 'Don't Be A Menace To South Central While Drinking Your Juice In The Hood?'" "Ohhh damn Mr. Kudo, how you know that?" My answer? "Skillz, yo." Anyway, the review went well.
Afterward we went and bought beds and screwed around in Union Square for awhile before heading to this bourgeois grocery store called Fairway on the Upper West Side where we got ingredients for Pasta Putanesca. My roommate bought a small handful of gourmet sea salt for $5. Yes, this is who I am living with. Anyway, when we got back to the apartment we ran into our friend Jacob who is staying with us until he finds an apartment. Jacob spent the afternoon looking for apartments and then had to call 911 when he got back to our apartment so that the guy who had overdosed and was twitching our steps wouldn't die.
In other news, there's this really short guy in our apartment who owns this dog. The dog is evil. It's like Cujo only more violent. It almost killed Jacob. The guy takes this dog outside and has to wait for people to get out of the way otherwise the dog will kill them. The guy doesn't even talk, he just kind of wiggles his fingers from afar so you know to get out of the way. He has to walk the dog in the street because otherwise it will kill pedestrians. So yah, that's fun.
Oh, and we have this shower curtain that's too short. It's a really kickass yellow, but yah, too short. So, the other day I was showering and the soap slipped right out of my hands and into the toilet. Bleah.
Tim.
Today, 54 minutes ago, training ended. I began my celebration with a nice cold Corona on the rainy busride home. I guess I'm officially a teacher now? Kind of scary. The future of America is in my hands. Just where you always wanted it to be, right? Well, I hate TFA, but thankfully, I was allowed to vent for several pages on the feedback form that I filled out today. In better news, we had a great going away party with our kids, I will miss them, or at least the ones I won't be seeing Sunday when we have a final review for the big state test.
In any respect, I'm going to give a more reflective e-mail at some later date but right now, I have to go eat food, get my apartment keys, and drink myself into oblivion with friends and colleagues. But alas, I leave you with the following which our curriculum teacher, a mentor to me, gave us during our last session.
Needless to say, I'm staying. Fuck those bastards, I'm doing it for the kids.
Tim
What Teachers Make
The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life. One man, a CEO, decided to explain the problem with education. He argued: "What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided his or her best option in life was to become a teacher?" He reminded other dinner guests that "Those who can: do. Those who can't: teach." To corroborate, he asked another guest, "You're a teacher, Susan. Be honest: what do you make?" Susan, who had a reputation for honesty and frankness replied, "You want to know what I make?"
"I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could."
"I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional Medal of Honor when students are doing their best, and an A- feel like a slap in the face if they're not.
"I can make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall in absolute silence.
"I can make parents tremble in fear or burst with pride when I call home.
"You want to know what I make? I make kids wonder. I make them question. I make them criticize.
"I make them apologize... and mean it.
"I make them write. I make them read, read, read.
"I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful,
definitely beautiful over and over again, until they will never misspell either one of those words again.
"I make them show all of their work in math and hide it all on their final drafts in English.
"I make them understand that if you have the brains, then follow your heart... and if someone ever tries to judge you by what you make, you pay them no attention.
"You want to know what I make? I make a difference.
"What about you?"