Highlights from 2011

It's really amazing to look back on a year, to notice growth and reflect on pain and progress. Here are the highlights from my year:

January:

Meeting someone who would fill the next 7 months of my life with happiness

February:

A visit from my dad, and travels all over Romania and to Budapest

March:

Travels to Sibiu and Sighişoara in Transylvania

April:

A spring break trip all over Romania

May:

A trip back to Oradea to meet up with the group from Anderson University and spend some time holding a baby

June:

Seeing my parents again on June 19th after getting a standby seat in Dublin

July:

Visiting with dear friends in Connecticut

August:

Getting hired and moving to Chicago

September:

Beautiful days spent at the lake front

October:

Discovering a new church community

November:

Getting to really know and love some of the people in my life

December:

Rocking an interview and getting accepted into the AUSL Teaching Residency Program

It's been a weird year.

It's Been a... While

It's 5:09 in the morning and I'm awake, again. It's been ages since I went to sleep at a decent hour (and decent for me means midnight), and there is clearly something wrong.

Self-reflection always comes at the oddest moments, hmm?

Veteran's Day

On Veteran's Day, my kids wrote letters to the former service members of a local VFW post here in Chicago. I told them that I would be "publishing" the three best letters online. Here are some of the most special ones. Of course I couldn't choose just three...

Dear Vererens,

My name is Haris B. I'm in 4th grade in goudy elementary school. I also go to Southeast Asian Center "Foster East." I have 2 interesting facts. One is that I have a friend who's dad was a soldier. My Mom and Dad were in a war. It was Bosnia vs. Serbia. They were Bosnians. Thank you for your service. Also thank you for protecting out country, plus for risking your lives to protect ours and keep them from harm. I have 3 questions. One, were you in a war when it was World War II. Second, were you in the war of Bosnia vs. Serbia. Final, were you in the Navy, Marines, Air force, or Foot Soldier.

Sincerely, Haris B.

....................................................................................................................................................................................................

Dear To Whom it May Concern,

Hello. My name is Diem. I go to Goudy School and in the 6th grade. I really like to read interesting books. My purpose of writing this letter is because I want to thank you for your service, protecting our country, and risking your lives to save our country. I am really thankful. I was wondering when you were in war did you miss your family? Were you worried that they were in trouble? How would you communicate with your family? Did you learn some surprising things about things that happened to your family while you were gone at war? I love learning about your history. I would also like to learn about what place did you take in war? Did you get hurt? Did you have any tanks, or helicopters? Learning about what you did really makes a big impact of how I thought about the past. Thank you for your time and that you for protecting our country.

Sincerely, Diem L.

...............................................................................................................................................................................................................

Dear Veteran,

My name is Justin and I'm in 6th grade, and go to Goudy School. My favorite sport is soccer. My purpose of writing this letter is to thank you for serving our country. Without you I don't know what should we do. But, you're here and I repeat thank you for your support. So I would like to ask you two questions. First, were you in the war where you had to kill Osama bin Laden? Second, what force were you in? Are you in the water, air, or ground force?

Your buddy, Justin

.............................................................................................................................................................................

Dear VFW Post 3592,

Thank you for your concern. My name is Christopher Z. I go to Goudy School and daycare Asian Center. I'm in 5th grade and my teacher's name in Goudy is Mr. Le and in the Asian Center is Mrs. Stephanie. I'm in a soccer league The Gladiators and soccer is my favorite sport. I'm Spanish and my family's from Ecuador. I'm actually kind of a shy person and I like to express my feelings just to my mom and dad. I'm bad at math but I will try to do my best. Thank you for your service and helping us protect our country United States. Thank you for protecting us from the bad people and from people in Afghanistan. Thank you for risking your life for us and so we can live for ever. Did any of your friends die? Was the war scary?

Sincerely one of your American kids, Christopher Z. (Yeah, I cried when I read that...)

.............................................................................................................................................................................

Dear Veterans,

Thank you for protecting our country from enemies. I and my class Foster East have appreciated all your hard work to protect us from the outside world. My name is Kingslove and I'm a citizen of America. You have worked every minute, every second of your life and the only way I can make it up to you is by writing this letter. Thank you for everything. I am 10 years old and I am proud to be an American. How old were you when you started? What were you in the war? Were you lonely?

Sincerely, Kingslove M.

Pretty fantastic group of kids, really. I'm hoping for a response from the VFW post- my students would be SO excited.

Public Housing No. 1

I attended a film symposium yesterday called "The Ground Up: Exploring the Right to the City." I'm about to get all policy-nerdy on you here.

Here was a description: "In the wake of economic displacement or physical devastation, how are cities rebuilt and for whom? Who has the right to decide? This film symposium explores the idea of 'the right to the city,' the collective right of communities to self-determination and equitable distribution of resources, through documentaries that highlight the organizing responses of communities working to democratize the development of urban space in Chicago and New Orleans."

In other words, I was right in my element.

Article 25 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (signed in 1948) states:

"Everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control." (full text at http://www.un.org/en/documents/udhr/index.shtml)

People in this country, the "world champion" of human rights (ahem...) do not have a legal right to housing. We should point that out.

The idea of housing as a human right is certainly a very interesting idea, and one many people would agree with. A lot of what is being talked about now is a new movement (see http://www.urbanreinventors.net/) called The Right to the City. We can think about what a "right" is in two different ways. A right is something you get, but it is also the opportunity to be free from coercion... something most people living in public housing are not afforded. It is certainly a systemic issue with a lot of focus on greed... but it's an issue being tackled in cities all over the States. PHAs (Public Housing Administrations) all over the country are tearing down public housing in order to create "mixed income communities."

This is *nearly* okay, in principle. Save the fact that is is pretty insulting to think that the problems of poverty would be solved if middle class (read: white affluent) values could just "rub off" onto the poor people like catching cooties... the idea is alright on paper. The problem is that these communities are incredibly difficult to get into, they are run by private companies, and there is a fractional percentage of the units available to subsidized renters. In the case of the infamous Cabrini Green Projects in Chicago, the new mixed income communities that were created had just a few units available for the THOUSANDS of families who were displaced when Cabrini was torn down.

Additionally, the practices of mixed-income lending communities are not exactly scrupulous either. There is a mandatory FBI Background check for all subsidized renters, not required of market-rate renters or owners. There are drug tests for subsidized renters. There is no access to the garage in some communities if you are a renter in a public unit. Condo associations are only for owners, but their rules apply to all the renters. If a subsidized renter (or a member of their family) has one lease violation, they are evicted and off of public housing assistance- it's a one strike system. Certainly a lot of disparity.

I'll probably be writing a lot about this in the coming weeks. My biggest question now is regarding the humanity of the people behind this question. How can the mayor stand up and flat out LIE to people about finding them housing? How can the government develop policies that systematically disenfranchise those who need the most support? How can people live with the morality of choosing money over human lives? It's incredibly frustrating.

Book List

A list of books I hope to read before next... hmm, June 11th.

Just a random date for now :)

1. Their Eyes Were Watching God- Zora Neale Hurston

2. To the Lighthouse- Virginia Woolf

3. The Bell Jar- Sylvia Plath

4. Atlas Shrugged- Ayn Rand

5. Madame Bovary- Gustave Flaubert

6. Jane Eyre- Charlotte Bronte

7. The Delta of Venus- Anais Nin

8. A Good Man is Hard to Find (And Other Stories)- Flannery O'Connor

9. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings- Maya Angelou

10. Sophie's Choice- William Styron

11. Love in the Time of Cholera- Gabriel Garcia Marquez

12. The Things They Carried- Tim O'Brien

13. Crime and Punishment- Fyodor Dostoevsky

14. A Tale of Two Cities- Charles Dickens

15. Little Women- Louisa May Alcott (this one I've read, but it's my favorite Christmas-time book!)

In no particular order.

Random Thoughts

Thoughts in my head:

1. I cannot believe it has been two weeks since I last blogged. A lot has happened, naturally.

2. Work is beginning to stress me out in a very real and annoying way. It's not the kids or the family or the mission of the agency... it's about the management. When a child is dying, you call am ambulance. When you have an incredibly high teacher turnover, you start to look at the common denominator. When you have really unhappy staff members, you make connections between happy teachers and well-served kids. When you have people call in sick, you hire actual subs instead of just pulling teachers out of their own classrooms. I am so incredibly tired of it.

3. I have an interview for a part-time tutoring position on Tuesday. This could be a really great way to supplement income and improve my actual teaching skills. It is with a well known and reputable tutoring company in the city, which is an awesome match and hopefully a good opportunity.

4. I should be finding out sometime this month if I get an interview for the Master's Degree/Residency Program I applied to. It would be so fantastic to finish up this step of the process.

5. My mom came this past weekend. She was, as always, fantastic. She also facilitated my first visit to the Chicago Goodwill :)

6. I got a big mirror. A big beautiful rectangular wooden mirror.

7. Said mirror is causing a problem in my apartment. I want to hang it in the middle of my long wall, but I already have BBB (beautiful black man... a drawing Ean did) hanging next to my bed. Avoid those nasty comments, please. What to do?

8. Speaking of Ean, you should all love him as much as I do.

9. I've recently realized how incredibly important family is to me. I've always felt close to my family, but this is different. I'm starting to look at the future Stephanie more and more, and having my family involved in the life of my future family is becoming a massive priority.

10. It's nearly November. Holy moly.

Sacrifice

As I was leaving my apartment at 6:15 in the morning earlier this week, I was struck by a profound sense of the tranquility of my city home. My feet crunching the dry leaves as I tread, breathing in the crisp autumn air... I felt at peace. It was a different kind of feeling, one I've not experienced in the city for quite some time. Often I allow myself to get so immersed in the "real" things of life... my commute, my job responsibilities, my financial situation and what to cook for dinner... and entire days and weeks pass by without notice. These things are what define the course of our lives, but it is the smaller tastes of comfort that sustain it. Definition is only as good as the sustainability plan keeping it moving, and this moment of peace was my sustenance for this crazy week.

As I thought more about this, I reflected on why I was able to enjoy a moment of calm in the midst of everything... it is because I was out of my apartment early in the morning. I sacrificed my sleep and my comfort and my warm bed, and in return I found a bit of contentment that powered my day. I have sacrificed aspects of my personality, I have given up some specific career plans, and I have surrendered the part of me that had to have everything all worked out. These things were not easy to give up... but they were necessary on the path towards living a sustainable lifestyle. Perhaps true peace requires sacrifice? What in your life have you surrendered in order to gain a sense of "rightness" with the world?

Columbus Day

I despise Columbus Day for one big reason... Columbus was an insufferable, egotistical, maniacal, murderous person. Happy for him that he found the West Indies, really. Not so happy for the entire destruction of a people that was to follow.

So instead of saying a WORD about dear old Chris today, I decided to do a project on Native Americans and the different regions of the United States.

I split my kids up into 5 groups and they went at it, working on the different regions of the US and the Native Americans that (once) called those places home. So often children hear "Indian" and they think "tepee and buffalo..." and so it's nice to give them a broader view.











Plus, my kids ARE incredible. I am in love with my job, even though I clocked in about 10.5 hours before I clocked out today. Long day that went smoothly and quickly... the stuff a "holiday" is made of.

One Big Week

Like everyone who works a full-time and consuming sort of job, I will say it: I cannot believe it is Friday already. I remember saying on TUESDAY of this week that if I could get through Wednesday I could make it to Friday.

Well, I made it in one relatively composed piece.

The beginning of this week was fraught with emotional drama on a scale I've not dealt with in a long time.

The middle of this week was mostly good, included being shouted at by a woman on the street, waiting many combined hours for a one bus, enjoying a lovely dinner and evening with someone who is growing special to me, connecting with a particularly enjoyable work-study student, turning in the two reports I've been slaving over, clocking in and out at normal times, and loving all over my kids.

The end of my week was filled with efficiency in my personal life- making appointments and figuring out financial stuff and making a to-do list for my weekend for the first time in a long time.

I think this means... this is real life.

Classrooms

About six work days ago, I entered my classroom as a teacher. I have entered many classrooms as a teacher, starting in my third semester at Anderson University.

I began entering classrooms as a teacher with my early childhood practicum in the fall of 2007. It was in the kindergarten room at Park Place Church of God, and I was basically a teacher's assistant. Four hours a week I hung out with some little kids and I taught two pretty terrible lessons, but it allowed me to develop some comfort in the classroom as an authority.

In the spring of 2008, I started individual literacy tutoring at Forest Hills Elementary School. I had an adorable little third grade student and I learned about individual student motivation, assessment-based targeted instruction, and writing ridiculously detailed lesson plans.

In the fall of 2008, I spent two hours a week at St. Mary's School teaching a small group in a literacy program to kindergarten and first grade students. I learned about group management, the importance of enunciation with LEP students, and the stress of after-school programming and student attention. I also worked in a fifth grade classroom at Forest Hills Elementary, teaching one math lesson a week. I learned about the ridiculous nature of some curriculum and the school scheduling that can absolutely destroy a lesson plan.

In the spring of 2009, I again worked in two separate practicums. At Robinson Elementary School I worked in a kindergarten classroom with mostly ESL students, and also did some ESL push-in work. I learned about the social-work aspect of teaching, and the difficulties of navigating school politics and what is best for students. I then drove across town to Killbuck Elementary School for a practicum in a fifth grade classroom teaching Language Arts and Social Studies. For some reason, it was in this classroom that I learned to own a room and manage students and be an effective teacher. Those lesson plans ROCKED.

When I started my student teaching placement at Jahn Elementary School in the fall of 2009, I was terrified. It was a first grade classroom filled with babies that I was afraid of, and it took me four months to navigate the stresses of teaching full time and being a student in my other full time, and be an effective teacher at the same time. After the winter break in the 2009-2010 school year, I started my fourth/fifth grade split placement at Jahn Elementary School. By this time I was familiar with the school and the culture I was working in, and looking forward to creating new and engaging lesson plans with older students. Instead I was met with the frustrating system of high-stakes testing that left my 9 year old kids in tears, and left me as a glorified proctor without anything to teach. After the ISAT was over I was finally able to teach, and my two major units brought me confidence in my ability to manage a classroom and develop a plan and execute a unit that students can learn from. I walked away from my student teaching with the ability to teach.

My next classroom was Romania... I had 21 of them. It was at the same time overwhelming, exhilarating, exhausting, amazing, frustrating and empowering. I am absolutely sure that spending a year teaching in that environment brought me classroom management skills that could not have been acquired in this country. Do you know how difficult it is to keep 11 classes of non-English speakers engaged and learning for 40 minute sessions each week? Do you know how hard it is to manage a classroom of 42 students who are developmentally conditioned to resist authority anyway? Do you know how hard it is to motivate eighth grade students who see no reason to learn what you have to teach them? I know all of those things, and I walked away from that opportunity with a handful of new skills and a huge amount of experience and a confidence in my ability to do anything because I did THAT.

And so when I walked into my classroom six days ago, I owned it. I have a lot of work to do, but it is incredibly encouraging and validating to feel perfectly comfortable with my students and my responsibilities. Here are some pictures of my classroom:

Numbers

For the last five work days, I have been working on collecting and analyzing data for the two reports that are due next week. The funding FROM my program is responsible for a large percentage of the child care budget SEAC is working with, and the funding FOR my program is quite reliant on these two reports. So I've been a little stressed.

I could talk about a lot of stuff, including how incredibly disorganized my new office is, how much work I have to do, how desperately I want to get things under control, and how much I am loving this new aspect of my job.

But I want to talk to you about the subject of numbers and integrity.

We had a certain number of clients last quarter. We dropped a certain amount of clients and we added a certain amount of new clients. This comes out to the magic number of 120... and ALL week long I worked to get to that number. It should be more clean cut than that, right? You count up the files and you match it with the database and voila it's golden.

That's not exactly how things have been done at SEAC. We didn't have an accurate database of clients, and we have about 3 client files that are completely missing. As in not anywhere in our office. And because I live in fear of getting audited... this causes complications. We certainly cannot count clients that we don't have evidence of participation for... can we?

I struggled all week to maintain professional integrity. Do you know how easy it would have been to simply "delete" this family and pull their file, or not drop that family and leave their file in the records? Do you KNOW how easy it would have been after HOURS of trying and trying to make the numbers work? It would have been so easy.

But alas, at 12:47 on Friday afternoon... the numbers worked. And all was right with the world. I can't do much, but I can promise that when I am doing this again in preparation for the 4th quarter report... it will NOT be like this.

Stats

A little more than half of my job is spent working in the childcare office, where I have begun my new role as "Parent Coordinator." A huge percentage of the funding for our childcare and school programs comes from the Chicago Department of Health and the Federal Department of Housing and Urban Development, and it is specifically granted to SEAC because of the parenting program. The agency runs a program that about 95% of the families are enrolled in, and it involves a message of violence prevention, parenting meetings and workshops, referrals, conferences, and case notes/documentation like you wouldn't believe. Seriously- if you don't believe me come to visit, where I will show you the overwhelming piles of paper everywhere in my office.

If you know me, you know the disorganization makes me want to cry.

It really is a very cool program and it is doing some awesome things for our clients. But I honestly walked into a disaster of a situation. We are talking case notes backlogged from summer of 2010, parent meetings not recorded for months, four different lists of clients who have dropped and added, and two quarterly reports due next week. I worked and worked and worked today, and then went back after school and worked some more. I feel like I finally have a grip on the situation, and it is always good to have an accurate knowledge of the number of clients, right?

We are currently serving 118 families with 175 children. Roughly 60% of them are female headed households. There are 10 families that are ranked "low" income; the rest are "extremely low" income, meaning that they make less than 50% of the federal poverty level. That is, less than $11,000 a YEAR for a family of four. There are three families with adults who have gone to college. There are twenty-seven families with adults who have no formal education whatsoever. We have over 20 ethnic groups represented in our clientele, and parents ranging in age from eighteen to fifty five.

Sometimes I wonder if I am doing good work, important work. Then I look at these stats and I feel pretty okay with my current place in life.

In other (teaching) news, I think I had a breakthrough with one of my students today. He is probably the most difficult in the class- struggles academically, socially, emotionally young... the works. My favorite kind of kid, in other words. I tried going the firm route... no success. I tried the sweet route... not success. Today I just decided to mess around with him. We were talking about where the people in our class were from, and I asked him if his family was from Mexico. He told me they weren't. Now, remember that I spent five hours today looking through files... I could probably name the ethnicity of every child in the program by now, and I KNEW this kid was from Mexico. So I simply said "You're full of crap." He stared at me and then started laughing this incredibly infectious little boy giggle. He latched on and didn't let go for the rest of the day... he's mine. Should I have said the c-word? Probably not... but I made a convert today and I'm not apologizing for it :)

Perception

"Ms. Stephanie, how do you see with blue eyes?"

At first I thought my fourth grader was asking how it was possible that I experienced sight with my blue eyes. After questioning, my adorable little Hispanic friend explained:

"What do you see with blue eyes? Like... what color is this?"

I managed to keep a straight face while explaining that the colors of our eyes do not change the way we see the world- everyone sees the same things.

"So this is purple? And this is white? Wow... I didn't know it was the same."

We went on to talk about all kinds of physical differences between peoples of different ethnicity and background, but on the way home I had a chance to process this interaction.

1. My student has been so underexposed to Caucasians (living and going to school in a neighborhood surrounded by minorities) that he literally has never had the chance to have this conversation with a blue-eyed person. I can't decide if this is necessarily a bad thing.

2. How wonderful it is that this little boy still has curiosity and wonder and questions about the world. By the time you get to fourth grade in this city innocence is usually destroyed. It's quite refreshing.

Trenches

There is something cool about working at a social service agency like the SEAC. It has a feel of utter chaos and disorganization, and at times this isn't wholly inaccurate. However, it also feels real in a way that resonates with my soul. These people are slinging it out in the trenches everyday, doing important things for people who need a voice.

Housed in three different locations, the SEAC does not exactly have a professional front in any one location. The Ainslie site is basically a block long series of brownstones in a classic Chicago style, with filing cabinets and desks and makeshift classrooms everywhere. The Broadway site is a converted restaurant complete with an Asian-style front, and the social services office lives upstairs, as well as the adult daycare and a few classrooms. The Foster site is the only one that actually feels like the building was built for the purpose it is currently fulfilling, and it contains two school-age classrooms.

People here are warm and friendly and overwhelmingly Asian, which is a culture I am slowly getting used to. Our clients are mostly Asian as well (many from Vietnam, some from China, Thailand, and other parts of south-east Asia) but also Russian, Bosnian, African, Pakistani, Indian, and Latino. There are some beautiful colors in each group of students.

Things change and chaos sometimes reigns supreme, and I am balancing the need to be flexible with the desire to be rooted.

Day One

I slept for about 2 hours before going to work on Friday morning. I'm not sure if it was nerves or excitement or the fact that my kitchen wasn't totally clean... but I laid awake for hours.

It felt a bit anti-climatic walking to work after hauling my exhausted body off of the Red Line, and the extra large coffee from Dunkin Donuts was pretty crucial to my survival. It felt like it should be exciting because I was starting a new job, but in reality I was walking to the same place and clocking in at the same timeclock and picking up kids in the same room that was mine for three weeks. It was a bit difficult to be honest, but onward with the new kiddos, right?

Let me tell you, there is no better way to bond with some fourth, fifth, and sixth grade kids than singing karaoke. Especially when I could ROCK it with songs from the original N'Sync and Britney albums. "Ms. Stephanie, this was music when you were OUR age?!?" Um... yes.

Things got a little crazy after lunch when I was called over to fill in for a teacher in the kindergarten room... I was pretty upset about being pulled away from my kids, but emergencies happen, whatever. It ended up being pretty hysterical.

I was dragging by about 4 o'clock when I sat down with a little guy named Stephen so he could be my doctor. He checked my heart rate and my eyes and my ears and everything else. Trying to be a good teacher and not just be happy this little boy was settled and touching me, I started asking him questions.

One too many, it would seem.

With the most sincere expression on his face and right before he was going to give me a shot, he put his pointer finger to my lips and said "That's enough of that."

I shut RIGHT up.

Refresh

Sometimes life just gets a little bit frozen. You think you are somewhere and then the world comes crashing down in a moment and you realize that you are absolutely nowhere. You are a little girl lost in a big city with no job and no idea what to do.

And then somewhere, someone hits the refresh button. The first step is realizing that you aren't lost, and that sense of home you feel is unbelievably comforting and in a way sustaining. The second step is the inclusion of new people into your life, people who bring joy and happiness and above all a sense of safety. The third step is action, movement, productivity. The fourth step is waiting waiting waiting. The fifth step is getting hired back at your old workplace and realizing that getting let go in the first place might have been the best thing to happen to you.

It was on Friday, September 9 that I was told I no longer had a job. In the midst of budget slashing and disparaging funding cuts, my position was no longer sustainable at the South-East Asia Center. Go home now, and don't come to work on Monday... there really isn't anything for you.

And it was on Wednesday, September 21 that I was rehired at the South-East Asia Center as a school age teacher. I will be assisting with a social-work project in the morning and then taking over a classroom of fourth, fifth, and sixth grade students each afternoon. Thirty-two awesome kiddos are waiting for me after school everyday, waiting for the creativity and support and structure and mentoring and happiness I hope to provide.

The changes and tumultuous nature of the last few weeks has been coupled by beautiful new things and the start of something incredible and a deeply rooted sense of stability.

I discovered stability in the neighborhood I live in and feel at home in. I discovered stability in my family, the people I count on to carry me through difficulty. I discovered stability in my friends and their constant show of love. I discovered stability in my faith, in the God who constantly is revealed in the exquisite beauty of the people around me. Above all, I discovered stability in the person I am. Situation cannot knock down my experience, circumstance cannot quell my passion, and trouble cannot shake the foundation of who I am and what I have to offer the world. For the first time in my life I am truly stable... and this solid ground feels good.

Friday Fun- Vomit and Sword Fighting

Friday was NOT the best day of work I've ever had, just to clarify. Any day that has me sweating before I get on the bus at 7:45 just isn't going to be great. Gross. And as yucky as the commute TO work was, the way home was much worse... I promise.

A~ woke up from her nap kind of grumpy and a little quiet. She didn't eat snack and kind of just put her head down on the table. I should have known then to park her by the toilet. About 15 minutes after my co-teacher left she got up to run to the bathroom in the middle of storytime, at which point I decided our day was officially over. I should have made the smart choice then, but how do you NOT comfort an adorable and sick four year old? So yeah, I got puked on. And it was while holding A~ after cleaning up a bit that my dear F~ came seeking refuge in my arms, along with his vomit.

THAT was a fun train ride home. That handsome man staring at me? Yeah, not for the right reasons.

There was a pretty amazingly funny thing that happened on Friday though.

We have open bathrooms at school for a few different reasons, but one of them is so that I can intervene when I witness two boys sword fighting... each of them was holding his penis. After taking a minute to compose myself and stop laughing ("Miss Dephanie, why you shakin'?") I addressed the situation like a mature adult person. "Friends, you need to pull your pants up. That is not an okay thing to do in school." "We were jus' fightin'..." "Okay, there are two problems with that. One, we don't fight in school. Two, you are not allowed to touch people with your penis."

So despite the heat and the vomit and the vomit and the vomit and the train ride home with the vomit... I still love my job.

Wrong Number!

I have a student who is four year old, going on nineteen. She has this incredible attitude mixed with an amazing endearing charm- it makes for a fun relationship.

It was the end of a (LONG AND HOT) day today and I was playing bingo with this little girl and another little guy in my room, waiting for their parents to get there. When my phone rang with a Chicago number, I picked it up in case it was a parent or something. Dangerous move- it was a very engaging telemarketer from the Lyric Opera here in the city. He wanted to tell me all about the new shows coming out this season, and would I like to buy season tickets? I nearly choked at that (on this salary???) but politely tried to disengage him and hang up.

My darling A~ had other plans. "Is dat your boyfrien? Why you talkin to him Miss Dephanie? Is dat your husban? Miss Dephanie! Miss Dephanie- tell him wong number! Just say wong number Miss Dephanie! WONG NUMBER! Goodbye, man!!! GOODBYE, not boyfrien! Goodbye not husban! We are playin a dame!"

He had a sense of humor, luckily :) And I went home smiling, and season ticket-less.

Random Funnies

There are always going to be cute kid stories when you work with 3 and 4 year old children. All day long there is SOMETHING adorable or funny going on. A few of my favorites so far:

(Aside from 3 students, the rest of my kids are Asian... and accompanied by amazing little accents)

"Miss Stephanie, you're a really great hand holder."

"Miss Stephanie, let go my hand."

"Sometimes I like to take the dinosaur and go 'GRRRR!' like this."

"We are going to have an issue if you continue this behavior." (direct quote from me earlier in the morning)

"Lay here Miss Stephanie and I do your hair. I do your nails. You want look like a boy? I can cut!" (proceeds to stand up and upon questioning, answers "I need scissors!")

"T~ is a girl because he has a ponytail."

"Your Chinese is really bad Miss Stephanie."

Yeah, I love my job :)

Apartment

This past week has been spent in a frenzy of activity. I didn't realize how stressful and tiring a new job could be... until I realized how stressful and tired I am.

I'll write more soon about my job, I promise promise. Right now, I want to post some pictures of my apartment post-move in but pre-decorating. I'm really loving this place, and I feel really lucky to be here.

Day One

I do realize that I'm posting big events in a somewhat skewed order. However, I'm a bit too overwhelmed in my apartment right now to begin discussion on THAT topic right now. I promise promise promise that those types of posts will follow soon, as soon as I feel like things are a bit more together.

For now, I'll write about my FIRST day of school :)

Let me say first that I am crazy excited about this position. It's really the perfect combination of education and social work that I've always kind of dreamed about, as I am a teacher within a social service agency. And ohhhhh man, it's going to be a lot of work. I am literally sore from bending over all day, squatting down, and trying to fit into chairs made for three year old bodies. However, it's also going to be an amazing experience, a massive opportunity for laughter and fun and joy and happiness.

Three year olds are a blast.

Move-In

It is much easier than I anticipated, this whole becoming an adult thing. Aside from the money and the job search and the load of things to buy, getting an apartment is pretty easy.

Christian and Jane remain my move-in magicians. They are the hardest working, most efficient, loveliest moving buddies imaginable. We left Blissfield rather early this morning (not as early as planned, but eh...) and got to Chicago with just one rest stop visit and minimal-ish traffic. On a side note, I don't think the I-90 stretch from Portage to the Skyway will EVER be done. We ate lunch at Hyde Park Gyro and then walked back to the apartment, met my building manager, and saw the apartment.

Wait, not THE apartment. As of 12:30pm local time on August 16, 2011... MY apartment :)


The outside of the building

I'm in an apartment right off the corner of Hyde Park Boulevard and Kimbark Avenue in this incredible neighborhood I called home for a year. Driving in today was almost magical- I felt a sense of belonging... the kind you always hope to find. My avenue is a tree-lined little street that dead-ends to the Kimbark Shopping Plaza with a fantastic produce store and a gateway to the eclectic 53rd Street businesses. It's really an ideal location; within close proximity to grocery shopping, local businesses, and public transportation.

The apartment itself is on the third floor of the building, and it's a delightful little studio with more room than I anticipated. Yeah, I'll just go ahead and put some stock pictures in...



This is the view as you walk in the front door.


View from the back corner...



My fun-sized kitchen :)


Most of what I brought today was kitchen stuff and clothing- I have to move in stages for a few reasons. One, I have a lot of stuff. Loads and loads of stuff. When my grandma Mary passed away in 2008, I was lucky enough to get all of her glassware, cookware, and utensils... basically a kitchen. Secondly, I'm moving mostly in a car...

I spent the rest of the day taking a (long) trip to the WAY north side to get fingerprinted for my new job, unpacking, and making a trip to Chinatown for supper at THE BEST Chinese place I've ever been, Moon Palace. I've not been there for a year and I swear they recognized me.

I'll post more apartment stuff tomorrow. For now I'm just feeling incredibly blessed to be in such an awesome situation. Move-in part two coming on Saturday!

Explanations

One of my favorite poems was written by James Oppenheim published in 1911, and it is associated with a textile strike in Massachusetts in 1912. Here is the text of the poem:

As we come marching, marching in the beauty of the day,
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray,
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses,
For the people hear us singing: "Bread and roses! Bread and roses!"

As we come marching, marching, we battle too for men,
For they are women's children, and we mother them again.
Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses!

As we come marching, marching, unnumbered women dead
Go crying through our singing their ancient cry for bread.
Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew.
Yes, it is bread we fight for -- but we fight for roses, too!

As we come marching, marching, we bring the greater days.
The rising of the women means the rising of the race.
No more the drudge and idler -- ten that toil where one reposes,
But a sharing of life's glories: Bread and roses! Bread and roses!

Since becoming familiar with this poem in my second year of college, I have loved the sentiment it represents. I love the idea that battles should be fought for both fairness and dignity, that we should struggle against physical, mental, and emotional mistreatment.

In a way, I feel like this is a bit of a life purpose for me. I have been so incredibly blessed with a supportive environment and loving family, a great education, and natural gifts, talents and passions that allow me to experience the world in a unique way. However, I believe that these blessings are coupled with a responsibility to serve, to give back, to be a blessing in return. I want to be part of something that brings light into lives, both in physical and emotional manifestations. I want to fight for both bread and roses for my clients and their families, the little buddies in my classroom, and the community I live in.

New Beginnings

I spent much of the last 2 months looking for a purpose. A lot of time was spent doubting, a lot of time spent hoping, and an inordinate amount of time was spent applying for jobs. It's funny how things work sometimes, and how the perfect opportunity can present itself.

There is an insane amount of change happening in my family at the moment. I am moving to Chicago to start a new job. My brother and his girlfriend will be moving back up to Northern Michigan University to start their second year of school. My youngest brother will be moving to Croatia to begin a year of exploration and travel and incredible experiences (soooo jealous). My parents will be at home in their clean house, missing their children and waiting for grandbabies. Things are moving quickly and it's all a bit overwhelming and frightening, and I realized last week that those things that keep us grounded, our "roots," are incredibly vital.

I spent two days with my very own Christy last week. She had been interning on a farm in central Indiana, learning about organic farming and sustainable growth and just how sore you can be after planting tomato plants for an entire day. She wrapped up her time there when I was visiting, and I got to watch her. I got to watch her in her element, in the place she fell in love with, in the place where she grew in so many ways. One of her final tasks was to give a presentation, and she chose to speak about Shade-Grown Coffee. (Yes, I listened!)

One of the things she talked about struck me, and I felt it seep into my consciousness and infect all of my thoughts about life. She talked about roots- the lifeblood of the plant, how they hold it to the ground and provide nourishment and a network of support. One thing she specifically talked about were lateral roots, and how they provide benefits in places where it isn't easy to have deep roots.

I think as humans (and perhaps people living in smaller communities), we tend to speak about "deep" roots. Roots that go straight down into the ground for immense distances... and in the case of people, time. Families that have lived in an area for generations, having a "deeply rooted" stake in the community- it it spoken of or thought about often.

My family doesn't have that. My parents were newcomers to my hometown, and we are all leaving. We are going abroad and up north and to the big city. We are putting down roots in communities that are not our own, places where we cannot "root deep."

However, it is my hope and prayer that our lateral roots will keep the family strong. We all remain tied to each other in a way that is simply impossible to escape, even if we were to try. For a while I was worried about starting a new life, losing my brothers to the world around us, missing my family. I've begun to realize that deeply planted roots aren't the only kind there are, and our lateral ones will provide just as much nourishment and support and strength as we need.