Holiday Ramblings

Only the news:

One week into my holiday and I am starting to feel human again. Actually I picked up a cold about four days ago and am crawling back from the tissue box and checking out my red Christmas nose in the mirror. I survived until December 26 without sickness and finally contracted a severe runny nose the day after Christmas. I had planned to get a flu shot or two at my doctors on Monday but the deadline passed me by.

We had sixteen people at the house Christmas eve. Donna's dad is always a welcome visitor. Then old friends filled in the rest. Donna had the idea of using the ping pong table for Christmas dinner. Truckee feared that its imminent collapse would spoil Christmas dinner. We all survived a delicious dinner- mostly cooked by yours truly.

I am a master at sleeping in and then listening to the radio in the morning until about 10 AM or 11. I fear that this lazy lifestyle might become habit once I retire. And so Truckee and I have been taking about about starting a "Third Wave" coffee operation. As preparation he is ordering a high end grinder and myself an espresso machine. He gave me a four month supply of Bluebottle coffee for Christmas.

My friend Stuart sent me sad news of an old friend, Bruce Sherman, who died this past year. Bruce and I played on the street many a time and he was always great company. In the past twenty years I would only run into him maybe once a year. Then my friend Zoe mentioned in her blog that he had passed away. I couldn't believe it and thought that it must be a mistake. Now Stuart has confirmed it. He sent a nice article from the San Francisco Chronicle remembering Bruce.

Christmas day, our niece, Jenny drove up from Needles, California to join us for Christmas dinner- an extremely long drive. Jenny is the sole reporter for a weekly newspaper there. She wanted to hear nothing of my dire predictions for the newspaper business. She is very pleasant girl and seems to enjoy her job. But she had not yet spent a summer in that city where it reaches 120 degrees F on a regular basis in the summer- the hottest spot in California.

We are finally ready to send out our Holiday card this year- 2 days after Christmas. And yes, I have promised to put a bunch of photos up on this blog. And so I will. I spent four of my vacation days walking back to school to try and finish grading papers and putting in grades. It takes me about 2 hours to quickly read about 30 papers, then another hour to enter grades and put them on the web for my students. One of those days put me in a very foul mood. My aides are suppose to grade student journals by amount. Whichever incompetent lackey (almost wrote "slackey") marked these did not pay attention at all. So I must do it and inadvertently read some of what I said that I would not read. Not only did I have to spend an extra hour, some of the dreck in these book is mind boggling.

Part of my holiday I have been dreaming of the summer trip to Italy. My focus will be Rome and Naples. We have made some great friends- an old friend of Donna's reaquainted. They live in San Benedito in Marche on the Adriatic. I hope to catch a few new countries on the way- maybe Slovenia, Hungary and possibly Romania. I would also like to drop by Vienna to see the Hitler's favorite Vermeer.

Tomorrow we go to the Harmony Folk Music Camp - And I will take the last of my holiday among old and new musician friends- some of these people I have know for more than 30 years.

Multiple Choice Finals

Mr. Lynch has mounds of finals to grade because:
a) he is really slow at reading essays
b) he is really dumb for assigning so much writing
c) he is really a committed teacher who wants to challenge his students
d) he is feeling guilty that he has not given enough writing to his student over the course of the semester.

What was I thinking? I have five classes, created and administered final exams to all of them. One would expect that creating multiple choice tests are the easy way to go. For my third period world history class I used about 50 questions from past tests and made up or gleaned from the Internet fifty more. The difficulty was double checking the answers. It took about four hours to put this test together then create a key for three different forms. Each of those forms had 14 different questions on it. Nevertheless my grades for period 3 are finished.

1.The primary accomplishment of the Persian Empire was to
A) promote an expansion of trade amounting to "commercial revolution."
B) unify the Nile, Mesopotamian, and Indus valleys into a single state.
C) create the most highly centralized state since the Old Kingdom of Egypt.
D) subdue the Greek city-states around the Aegean Sea.

I created 50 multiple choice questions for two classes of my Freshmen English class. Then I had them hand in their final version of their Autobiographical Incident. I was smart enough to have them read the papers to the class for the final. But I still must go through 50 of their papers for mechanical errors. That will take about three hours if I am lucky.

I also created 50 multiple choice for my sophomores. Those answers were difficult to look up. I did find the text of the book on line and it helped me with some of the more obscure questions in the Lord of the Flies. My big mistake was to assign not one but two in class writings for these two classes of 30 students each. At this moment classes are finished for the semester. I just took a tamale lunch break and put off the next group of papers by writing in my blog. I have read 30 self evaluations and need to read 30 more. I think that I can do that in about an hour. But then I have 60 essays on 30 different topics in Lord of the Flies.

10. Why do Jack and his hunters attack Ralph and Piggy?
a) They want to steal Piggy's glasses.
b) They want to steal the conch.
c) They want to intimidate them into joining their tribe.
d) They want to take control over the fire.

My deadline is to leave at 3 P.M. for a faculty music party that has already begun. I will finish all of this grading sometime in the next two weeks. It would be better soon, as I might not finish at all if I leave it to later.

A Full House

Donna and I drove to the airport Sunday night to pick up Anna. She has become such a sunny and enthusiastic person- almost grown up. I am so proud of her. She is fun to be around. Last night we took our accordion Christmas photo together. As I made dinner Donna and I could hear Joey, Anna and Truckee laughing in the back room. I commented, "It's really nice to have them home here and getting along so well." Donna came close to me and gave me a hug. It looked as if she was about to cry. "We really had some hard years there, didn't we?" We look at things differently. I do not see my life or trials as over. I somehow try to prepare myself for unexpected crises, even thought I don't look forward to them. I cooked for five and it was good. I admit it. Donna said about how lucky we were to have three delicious home cooked meals in a row.

Then the visitors stared arriving. First Krista and Naomi arrived and went to the basement with Anna to catch up. Next thing Truckee says, "I'm going to the basement to play Joey. You can play the winner." Then Eric and Harley arrived and there was an instant party in the basement. As usual Joey beat Truckee. Joey and I were neck and neck up to 20- 20. He hit a couple of lucky shots and beat me 22 to 20. That sat around the nook in the basement chatting and laughing.

Then the party moved up stairs. Noami wanted to print a paper that was due in her college class. I had just changed the cartridge. Joey said, "My dad knows more about this than I do." I spent a half hour trying to fix the printer. I succeed in a half hour printing one document but not the other. Frustrated I moved to the easy chair where Truckee was sitting and I asked him to move for me. I guess I must have acted a little pushy, because most everybody in the room laughed at how I had pushed Truckee out of the chair.

I returned to the basement to do a little more work on the Christmas card. I noticed the time on my computer and it shocked me- 12:30 A.M. and I had to get up at six A.M.. When I came back upstairs the guests had gone. Donna, Joey and Anna were sitting on the couch laughing while watching Drew Cary's improv program. "Did you guys know that it is way after midnight?" I said. They replied, "We don't care. We don't have to get up in the morning." "That's nice. Goodnight!"

Autobiographical Incidents

The autobiographical incidents are coming in from my Freshman. Reading student papers has been the bane of my English teaching career. However today I read about six papers in a row that were extremely interesting. One Freshman writes about how her friends told her that they had decided to become popular. Another sick of the late night arguing by her parents, at four years old, gets out of bed demands that they stop so she can sleep. An student complains of a stomach ache for hours on end, only to be practically ignored the whole day and rushed to the emergency room in the evening close to death. Another student writes about the heart attack her father had.

On the other hand if I have to read another story about an "exciting" skateboarding trip, I might actually drop off into a coma.

A message from China

I just received my first response to a blog in a long and it was in Chinese. I am grateful for the translators on line. I was not sure whether I could translate Chinese to English, but here it is. It is not perfect English, but I detect a distinctly non Anglo- European approach:

The Chinese people video and music video chat sweetheart net - fires a pistol - the sentiment color website - sentiment color network - adult website - dream factory adult video and music - spicy younger sister chatroom - av female superior - Jin Ping Mei free movie - pornography video - video to make friends the video Xiu - Japan US young girl - mainland beautiful young girl - autodyne Taiwan autodyne - video to chat the video and music to chat - the beautiful woman to break off the hole - obscene younger sister to break off hole - video spicy younger sister - 18sex - Japan a piece of - hot beautiful woman - spicy younger sister - video and music video - chatroom - spicy younger sister video - 18 to limit - the video beautiful woman - video spicy younger sister - to hit the artillery - self-consolation set of - sentiment color to like - the female student consoling oneself - A night of sentiment - Taiwan color snares of love - fellatio - adult video and music chats - the adult color snares of love - naked sentiment color chatroom - video net to love chatroom - spicy younger sister video Xiu -

I thank Xiu for his (her) message.

The term "sentiment" enters in twice. I am not sure what an "AV female superior" is but I am pretty sure that it is not a woman boss in the work place. "Obscene younger sister to break off hole" sounds very dirty to me but I am really not sure what it means. And "the female student consoling oneself" I am pretty sure is not a lesson for a pychology class.

What are they trying to tell me?

Grading then Three Visitors

I punish myself by assigning all of these written assignments at the end of the semester. So I sit just at the end of class yesterday with the mound of essays and tests to grade. I start to nod off as I attack them. I started moving through the 5o or so tests pretty quickly. Then I decided to take on an "autobiographical story". Miles was on top. Miles is the one who learned so much from his eighth grade writing teacher that he wanted more writing in my class. He is probably the singular reason that I am assigning this major writing project at the end of the semester.

I read Miles' paper about his most exciting skateboarding trip ever. I found it quite unexciting. After correcting a few errors and attempting to give him hints on spicing up the paper, I decided to search for examples of good writing on the internet, a time consuming endeavor. I found several good pieces about skiing. Nevertheless there is a dearth of good writing on skateboarding. I found writing even worse than Miles', but little else. I found a skateboarding paragraph that could pass, and included that. I attached my research to his paper. Given the amount of time that I spent on his paper, I could be grading these things well into 2011.

My first visitor arrives in an IM from Olesya in Rubinsk, Russia. She comments on the cold. I write, "Today it was actually snowing outside. It totally disrupted my class. My students were so excited." She writes, "Weather is unusal here. No snow yet :( ."

At 3 P.M. I turn the Streaming version of the News Hour. A shy gentleman enters my room. "My name is Patrick. I am a new social studies teacher." My first thought was that he was looking for a teacher to student teach with. And that might relieve me of some of the responsibility of my history class. "I am going around meeting teachers in hopes that they hire me on the substitute system." We have a new on line computerized sub system. I said that I would call for him when I needed a sub.

At 4 P.M. someone knocked on my door. A well dressed older gentleman and his wife appeared. He introduced himself as a graduate of Analy from the year 1947. I invited him in. He looked around the room rather pleased, then walked to the back and touched the last desk in the fourth row. "That where I sat. Mrs. Bettler's English class. She was a great teacher- hard as nails, strict but kind. She was my best teacher." We chatted about the condition of the building, and how well it had been built in 1935. He said, "I turn 80 this month. And we were here to visit my daughter. I told my wife that since we are here, we must stop by the school." He had been an officer in the Navy for 20 years and now retired. He obviously had great affection for both the school and that particular teacher. He and his wife thanked me and left.

Fifth Period Storytelling

The assignment these days in my Freshman class is to write an autobiographical experience. Some of my students asked about my autobiographical experience. I went home on Friday and looking through my old files I found a story that I had written fifteen years ago. It is about the first time I every saw a magazine of nude pictures. I wrote it 15 years ago when I took a fiction writing class. I read it out loud and then got to some of the juicier parts. I blushed a little, and then I had to skip over some parts, but they didn't know it. They absolutely loved it. One of my students said that it was the best class we ever had. They were thoroughly engaged. I only got half way through when the bell rang. I expect that they will want to hear the rest when we have our next class.

Hudost at Hopmonk

I got a heads up from the High Street Collective about a band, actually duet Hourst at the HopMonk Pub. Unfortunately there was an opening act. I won't mention any names, but she was a young lady from Santa Cruz who wrote painfully introspective songs about herself, why she doesn't want a boyfriend, why she does want a boyfriend/ soulmate and on and on. My son, Truckee, unkindly said, "It's pretty obvious from her songs why she doesn't have a boyfriend."

The second act, Hudost, was much more upbeat. Moksha Somor has an incredible voice and plays the harmonium as she belts out the tunes. The first was a familiar Bulgarian song done in an original raw way. She slides up and down the scale with Eastern European arpeggios. Jimal Hines on the guitar has a variety of pedals and slides and steps through a whole range of sounds. Most surprising to me was Moksha's imitation of Dolly Parton when singing Jolene.

This was their last gig on the West Coast for a while. Apparently they often perform with a much larger ensemble when in New York City. I would love to catch them there. Check out this great video: Hudost Video

Inconclusive Results

It doesn't look like my lead headline made much of a difference. I think that 263 was my number on Friday and 285 hits by today. It doesn't seem so bad, except that probably five of those hits are mine. I did get a new hit from Argentina, then while I was on line on Saturday, he "skyped" me and we had a nice conversation. Still there were apparently no hits from France. I had a hit from New Delhi, India but it disappeared. I would call all of this hubbub- Much ado about nothing. Speaking of Hubbub...

Le Sexe Vit des filles Nues photo sans prix

C'est mon opportunité d'inclure les gens parlants français dans ma petite expérience. Je voudrais savoir si les moteurs de recherche cherchent sur la base des mots clé blog. Mes apologies de n'importe quelle offense. Ma salutation à tous les peuple de français.

Sex Live Nude girls free

I consider my blog the quiet blog, and while I don't expect thousands to visit it everyday, I would not mind a small increase in flow. Nevertheless I realize that I don't do the things necessary to publicize my blog. And I don't even mind if few people read it. Nevertheless I do enjoy it when I find that a person somewhere far away may have accidentally stumbled on this blog if only for a second.

I was amazed the other day when I went to my blog map and decided to focus down to the smallest possible detail. It centered upon a small boat in a port in Portugal. My other foreign entry for that day appeared to be a field in Emilia Romagna. It struck me about the lack of privacy and how I could actually travel to this place and go face to face with the person who looked at my web page.

So I decided to hatch a plan. I am not really certain if people search for blogs by key words, but I decided to enter some key words that I expect are rather popularly searched on the Internet. I note that the number of hits that I have from a certain date (unknown) is 263. I expect that this means that I get less than two hits a day on the average. So I will check this site again, perhaps on Sunday or Monday. Also I many start putting in key words in other languages.

Don't worry if you have searched with one or more of these words and come upon my blog. Your identity will remain completely secret. But do not be surprised if I show up on your doorstep.

Autobiographical Incident - Part 1

In both my Freshman classes they are composing an autobiographical incident. It is a two page writing assignment. They asked me to write an autobiographical incident that I could read to them and I decided to accept the challenge. They asked, "Do you remember back that far?" I answered, "I remember a lot of things." Then again as I ponder these things I find that most of my memories especially from early years are snapshots of places and people, not specific stories. And in fact stories are manufactured. We take memories and place limits on them. We give them a beginning, a middle and an ending and they become stories. So out of pieces of memories we construct stories.

I remember lying in my crib. I am comfortable until someone disturbs me. She picks me up puts me on a cold surface and treats me roughly. I know now it was my mother, but at this early age I have not feelings about her except that it is the one who treats me roughly, disturbs my rest and brings me from a place of comfort to discomfort.

As a little child I was the second child with a sister just a year older. We lived in a house built in the 1920's in a residential neighborhood of Philadelphia. Early memories bring me pictures of a cramped backyard, rotting wooden fences, old garages and even barns where a few old horses still boarded. I flash on a memory of lying in my bed and seeing a globe in the closet and wondering what it actually is. I never asked.

I see myself as little looking up at adults and not understanding anything. I look way up at adults and remember my father lifting me up. I remember sitting in a highchair while my mother and a strange woman speak a language incomprehensible to me. I notice a large round ceramic piece on the wall- in delft blue- a woman pours water into a bucket and she is near a well.

I hold a big person's hand, probably my father, as we walk a block away from my house. We pass a pharmacy with strange instruments in the window and even stranger pictures. Men are cutting open other men who lie naked on gurney. I see blood and exposed organs, knives, spoons and threads held by these men continuing their gory operation.

We lived with my mother's uncle, Uncle Mike or "Unk" as I would call him. He was the old man in the family, probably 60 years old. He had served as a Republican representative in the Pennsylvania House of Representative. He was my favorite and my memory is that he did little except read the newspaper and smoke his cigarettes. He would often ask me to do an errand for him- buy him cigarettes and he would give me a nickle. Like Pavlov's dog I began to make it a habit of asking him, "Unk, do you need anything." He would always answer the same way. "No, do you need anything?" And I would hem and haw. And after an excrusiating amount of time he would say, "How about a nickle?" I would say, "Sure."

I remember the day that they took him to the hospital, ambulance near our front door. This was after we had moved to our new house in Yeadon. He survived the heart attack and he was given a room downstairs .

Birthday

Today is my wife's birthday. She turns 51. Seventeen times three. We discussed a way to make it happen on a day where both she and I work. She only requested a cake and I said that I would make my bolongenesse sauce and pasta. I have hidden a few little gifts around the house to make it a little special- a bar of lavender soap she will see in the morning, a stick of "Boss Woman" lip balm that I have hidden in her knitting and a small reading lamp that I have hidden in my drawer. I had planned that she would get one at a different part of the day- Soap in the morning, lip balm during the day and the reading light just before bed. I will squeeze dinner in between 5 PM and 6:30. She will go to her singing practice then we will have cake at 9 PM.

My boys asked me if they should stay around and I said "of course". I asked them to please keep the house clean. They are really a treasure. We now play regular ping pong games in the basement. Joey, the youngest, can usually beat us both, but just the other night I beat him. I can usually beat Truckee and he is good natured enough to keep playing both of us. Truckee, myself and Donna attack the daily crossword puzzle together. It has gotten so we can finish one daily, but the Sunday puzzle is a complete frustration. Joey is a continuous musical bundle around the house. He is either playing the drums, accordion or piano at any one time. Sometimes he listens to his favorite political show on the computer such as "The Young Turks". He is enthusiastic and curious.

A Paper (Tiger) Inventory

There must be a better way. Traditional teaching traditionally involves mounds of paper. As I look at my desk- really three desks- I find this fact makes my teaching life most difficult. Perhaps an inventory of what lies there will give some insight to my state of affairs.

In the right hand corner on top of my printer: On top is the Final Exam schedule, a pleasant reminder that the semester is almost over and a two week holiday is less than three weeks away. Under that a "Memorandum" than a student study team will hold a meeting next Thursday, form to be filled out and grades attached by that day; under that a stack of 10 vocabulary index cards from last week's test, a reminder that I must make the next stack of cards by Thursday. Next in that stack is a history handout of the Bill of Rights and an explanation- this is a handout to my students and must be filed (perhaps in the circular file). Next I come upon extra blank history tests from the week before last (I just filed them.). Then there are 2 old "make up" tests from my English class. My Science times from November 17 comes next. This is a reminder that I missed my twice weekly detour to purchase a New York Times today. Then I have a list of parent emails on a pad at the bottom of the pile. This is my smallest pile.

On the right have six folders: a set of hastily graded history tests, a set of grades essays by my fourth period, some miscellaneous bank statements in a folder, Chapter 4 Lord of the Flies English quizes- ungraded, extra test of To Kill a Mockingbird, Chapter 5, one copy of part of the California Standards Test for Grade 10, Summons for students to report to the attendance office, several unexcused tardy slips, the Lord of the Flies final multiple choice test, an Analy Education Foundation Grant application, graded Chapter 3 tests for Lord of the Flies, Language of Literature Writing Transparencies and Copymasters, a folder of past tax returns and other financial information, some late and ungraded vocabulary quizes, CD of the reading of Ender's Game with Diana Krall helping fill the disk. Am I finished yet? This litany of paper detritus shows exactly what I hate about my job. Or maybe it is what I hate about myself. I have only scratched the surface of my piles of paper. Much of it is curriculum, much of it is assessment materials and involve hours of work just to grade. But most of all it reminds me of my extreme ineptitude in dealing with piles of paper.

I love to teach but I hate the paperwork. I am ready to go totally digital. I'll ready my resume for next year, if anyone is interested.

Bem-vindo a minhas visitas de Portugal e Itália.

Benvenuti nel mio visitatori dal Portogallo e Italia.

Living in the Present

After five days of Thanksgiving holiday my first period students roll back into class. The first statement that I hear is one that is on my mind too. "When is winter break?" We seem to measure time from holiday to holiday- a very unzenlike process. I should be enjoying the now of my teaching. Actually there are moments that I enjoy extremely and moments that are painful and I will try to pick apart those.

Painful moment- Hannah, a loudmouth self-absorbed student, is now giggling over something as most students are writing quietly in their journal. On the other side of the room, her friend Alexys makes a comment that she was busy with Megan. Megan is a student they make fun of and pick on. I have already given one referral over this issue. I have written both mothers and I know that at least one of the mothers has read the riot act to her daughter.

Enjoyable moment- Then the same girl sees a sign in the back of my room. "Stop Israel's slaughter in Gaza." She asks about Gaza. This is what I love. My whole class attentively listens as I try to simplify the issues involving Israel and the Palestinians. They keep asking questions. I joke, "Don't you guys have a social studies class?" Looking at my crude map on the board one of my students asks, "Where is India?" I point to a place beyond the board and answer, "over there."

Period 3
Enjoyable moment- My students ask for a new idea from my Ideas book. Our idea this week: Are we the top ape? The issue of human superiority.

Painful moment- Tanner has his head on the desk, and says that he got no sleep. Then Jeff says he needs to go to the bathroom and doesn't return. Then Tanner asks to go to the bathroom, then Jared asks to go to the bathroom.

Period 4
Painful moment - I am trying to get class started and as many times as I tell Jake to sit down he ignors me. Then he says, "I have to tell Mark about the Stanford game." Then when he finally gets to his seat, he is sitting on top of the desk instead of in it. I tell him to sit down. He says, "The seat is broken." I say, "Sit down." Then I say, "See me after school." He says, "I can't. My family... blah, blah, blah." I hate this.

Painful moment - We're reading Lord of the Flies and I hear some talking in the hall. I go out and 7 of my students are out there talking. "You let me go." "I had a call slip." "I had to use the bathroom." I respond, "All of you! no bathroom passes for the rest of the semester." Then as they come into class, I tell the class to remember who is involved- Mark, Rosie, Ashley, Angela, Jackson, Yudic and Amelia.

Painful moment- "I don't have my book." I had about six books up here for students to read and now there are only two. I say, "Whoever forgets their book next time will have to read." I call on two students who are not paying attention. Then someone says, "This is a boring book- too slow." The kiss of death. Do I now become the defender?

Enjoyable moment- a discussion manages to get started about the personalities of the main characters and the use of fear as a tool.

Enjoyable Moment - Jake comes to me and profusely apologizes. He says he will change. The sentiment is nice but I don't believe him.

The reader can see how little of this is about education- or maybe it is. Maybe this continuous back and forth between teacher and student is social learning.

Period 5

Enjoyable moment - They are quiet as I write. The sun is out and I am finally getting a little warm after shivering all morning.

Painful moment: Katie says, "This is too close to our five day holiday. Everybody is tired. Can't we just lay back and rest?"

Enjoyable moment- As we work through these sentences, the students are genuinely trying to make their sentences better.

Lunch: Enjoyable moment- our 30 minute lunch with my peers: Lanette, Alta, Susan, Mark and Joel- but far too short.

Period 6
Painful moment- The class is still talking after I ask them to quiet down. I start putting those little behavior checks in my roll book. Max comes to me and says, "I don't know if I've finished that test. Should I go down and finish it with Ms. Dugan." I say, "I don't know if you've finished it either." "Well, I don't think that I have finished it." I say, "Well, you can go and finish it now."

Enjoyable moment- the class is quietly writing. Also I just got the form that says Brendan is out of my class. One of the students told me he has gone to a military school - a good place for him.

Enjoyable moment- It seems like this class is actually reading the Lord of the Flies. We just had this great discussion over the two main leaders in the book and what they represent. Ralph is the liberal left in terms of the one who wants more government. Jack is the libertarian in terms of wanting less government. But where is the facism of Jack? I think I can go somewhere with this.

Period 7
Enjoyable moment- my prep period.

A letter from Angela

I received a letter today from a student at Cooper City High School in Florida. She is in a Computer class that prepares students for college. She wants to know about this school, Analy. What classes do I teach? What activities Analy offers? electives, college credit, dual enrollment, standardized tests?

Dear Angela,

I hardly know where to begin. I have taught at least two computer skills classes at Analy High School since I began teaching here about ten years ago. My class consisted of one semester of projects relating to learning Microsoft Office. I assume that many of them were similar to the projects in the class that you are taking now. In the second semester I taught a variety of programs that helped students learn web page building, including Dreamweaver, Photoshop and Flash.

I use the past tense because this year the Computer Skills program was dropped, not for lack of interest but because of lack of funding. California has been going though major budget cuts and it is affecting the schools severely. Unfortunately for the next several years it looks like more of the same with a projected cut of 17 billion dollars more in k-12 through community college funding next year. The sources of the problem are many. But our governor and legislature bear a large percentage of the blame. Also it appears that tax payers are not willing to pay for an educational system that used to be the envy of the world until 1978. I will end my grandstanding and try to answer the rest of your questions.

Analy High School is located about 60 miles north of San Francisco, in Sonoma County, a place known for the best wines in the United States, along with our neighbor Napa County. Our town Sebastopol has about 7000 inhabitants, it is one of the more wealthy communities in the area and gives great support to the arts. We have several art galleries and a theater in this small town. Analy has about 1300 students. We have a small agriculture program and an active FFA. Our arts program is superior to most of the others in the area: an excellent school band, school ochestra, regular school theater and excellent art teachers. Our funds for the arts are supplemented by school bond. Some of our students take college classes at nearby Santa Rosa Junior College. Our school ranks high in academic standing.

Our students must take a number of state tests. There is the STAR test for all students which helps ranks the schools in terms of academic standards. Up until this year all Seniors had to pass a high school exit exam, but the state dropped this requirement due to budget cuts. There are also the usual array of Advanced Placement Exams.

My credentials are in English, Social Studies and Art. I also have a Masters in Education with a specialty in Educational Technology. I have been teaching for 22 years and ten of those years in this district. Having all these credentials has made my teaching career varied but difficult. One year I will teach Freshman English, the next World History, the next Junior English and so on. This year I teach two Freshman English classes, two Sophomore English classes and one Sophomore World History class. My hobbies are playing guitar and several other instruments as well as singing. Also I do some classical painting sometimes in the summers. Like you I love to travel and was lucky enough last summer to go to Russia, Latvia, Poland and the Czech Republic.

You asked about colleges. The University of California systems has some of the top schools in the world, equivalent to the Eastern Ivy League schools. Also there is a large system of state schools with many varied programs. Our community colleges are also excellent but all the state funded schools are suffering from the severe budget cuts in the state. There are too many private schools to name, but you must know of Stanford University, one of the top schools in the United States.

Feel free to write anytime. I am happy to answer your questions.

Sincerely,

Edward J. Lynch

Winter Fest

Saturday night we were to meet on A Street, dressed as furniture- Donna put on a bright red wool dress with a lampshade at. I donned a matching lampshade. A Street in Santa Rosa has become a center for artists. This event happened last year and this year even more spectators arrived. The Hubbub Club met in an alleyway decorated with lights, a tractor bearing a snowman and a roaring fire. A nearby studio had a jazz duet and several performance artists. We had forgotten our bottle of holiday cheer, so I entered a study to fill a glass. Yet the numbers had emptied the bottles in one studio and I saw no more almost the entire night. I came as official photographer.

The band began to play and the crowds filled in around us. We (I say we as an unofficial member and photographer.) marched out of the alley and into the main street. The atmosphere was festive. People waved and danced around us. Other just watched or visited the studios on the street. Impromptu spectators became marchers, suddenly a sofa with children is following. Then the snowman leads the parade. Strains of Watermellon man, then "When the Saints Go Marching In."

Late in the evening a jam session started on the corner. I was invited to play the base drum. I played to Miles and Coltrain. A great session- for about an hour. I played so hard I made one of my knuckles bleed- bad technique. I took lots of photos and will leave a link here soon. I will add more to this blog as it was a long fun night.

A Student Comment

After first period one of my Freshman came up to me and said, "Mr. Lynch, I think that we are not doing enough writing in this class. Today we spent one hour going through one chapter of To Kill a Mockingbird." I thanked him. Then for the rest of the day that little comment haunted me. Perhaps I am not giving him enough writing. I should certainly say, that he is not getting enough writing in my class. I suppose that for a comment like this to affect me so much, may say more good things about my teaching than bad. I always question myself. Am I doing enough for my students. Then I look at how little time I have. Now, 110 English students and 30 World History students. I am still grading essays that I assigned three weeks ago. And I vowed to myself that I would not assign another essay or major piece of writing until all of the others were graded.

I generally spend from 7:30 AM to 5:00 PM or 6 working- with a half hour break for lunch. Then I come in for at least 3 hours every Sunday to make up work at school. This past batch of papers were especially difficult. I thought that I had prepared them in every way to produce a good piece of writing. They met in groups to discuss concepts then do a presentation on the subject. Hence they will be well prepared to write an essay on the subject. Unfortunately the preparation seemed to do little good.

I constantly question myself about my teaching effectiveness. One to one teaching is easy. But as the numbers increase a teacher must make compromises. So by the time the class sizes are up to 30, the class become something of a factory setting. The teacher orchestrates the group to do common exercises. The teacher engages in discussion and get maybe 50% to engage. Students gauge their own worth in the class by the number of points the can accumulate in the class by a series of test. This focus on points has been the bane of my teaching career.

I have one class this year where I can experiment, although I consider controlled experimentation in education a good idea. In my history class I decided to divide it into three parts: basic knowledge and information, important ideas and the story of history. I do not have enough time to go into detail now, but I promise one blog to explain my techniques.

So for my unsatisfied student I am working on intensifying my writing curriculum. And in fact students need improvement in writing badly. I do some grammar exercises every day and have worked. It is already Monday. I will begin today with a new writing exercise. Let's see if it helps.

Invisible Ink

One of my students just told me that his essay wasn't handed in because his friend gave him invisible ink as a joke. What you would you tell him?

Yesterday this happened to me. I told him that in my twenty years of teaching that I had never had an excuse like that. But I decided to leave it up to my Facebook friends. Here are their comments.

1. that's a good one, I would ask to borrow it so you could give him an A for effort.
2. well, sometimes if you iron paper with invisible ink on it, it will develop....
3. I would tell him " go get a job ! ". Hi Ed, how do you do ?
4. give him style points.
5. Invisible or not, it was not handed in, so it is late and graded as such. I'm sure you receive papers that have visible ink and would be better if they said nothing at all.
6. Tell him that's a funny coincidence because right here in the grade book you gave him full credit but that must have been in invisible ink as well. Huh, funny thing.
7. Hahaha . . . nice one!
8. More believable if his dog ate it!
9. I like the Truckee's one eheh .. great idea !! How are you all btw??
10. I second Truckee's idea. Muy bien!
11. Truckee has the response that's best.
12. Ed ask him where I can get more invisible ink. I ran out of it and I need more for my office. My boss always falls for the invisible ink excuse.

Internet Preparation

I found out by the final test that I gave on the Novel Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card that only about one third of my students knew the book well. One third had read it to some degree and one third had not read it at all. I am attempting to remedy that situation with the next book.

I am teaching Lord of the Flies probably only the second time in my 20 years of teaching. It becomes a day by day affair. To gently prod my students to read I test them on a chapter per day. To find that chapter I go to Google. Type in "Lord of Flies Chapter 5 quiz" and see what I come up with. Fortunately there are a plethora of tech savvy teachers out there who post their tests on line. Often they post without answers. So I must take the tests as well as the students before I hand it out to them.

So this past period my preparation time I have wildly searched the Internet for simple tests, chapter by chapter that I can give my students. I also look for lesson ideas, especially ways to do group work where the students will actually learn something. I have found over the years that such work must be carefully planned or the stronger student always does most of the work.

Last night I watched a movie with Truckee, Entre Mures (Inside the walls) or The Class as it has been translated. A Cannes award winner presents a multicultural class in France and the trials of one French teacher in his class. I could not help but be critical of his teaching technique, at the same time found the presentation realistic. He would stand in front of the class and throw out questions about grammar. The would exchange wry comments with each other. Some students would ask sincere questions and get thoughtful answers from the teacher. Some would banter lightly, ask absurd questions or bait the teacher. One student says, "I heard around campus that you are gay. There is nothing wrong with being gay. Is that true?" Then the teacher verbally dances around the question. Finally the teacher says that he is not gay. I found it hard not to take the teacher point of view as well as be very critical of him the whole time.

Avocations and Hobbies

Saturday, my son and I went to see three speakers at the Schultz Cartoon Museum in Santa Rosa. One was the author of the syndicated cartoon Mutz, one a collaborator at Pixar Studios and one a published author of fiction. They compared their style in creating fictional characters in each ones media. It brought me back to my creative endeavors. My remaining creative endeavor is right here as I write, but I only consider it an outlet. Most of the central outlets of my life I have set aside, because of this cruel years overwhelming duties.

I anticipate the day where I can throw myself into my many hobbies and interests again. Part of the problem is my own lack of discipline, but nothing helps more than having large chunks of time. I have dropped my Italian class because I am just too tired after school to sit through a class. Perhaps if it were more active conversation, I would have stayed.

I authored a cartoon diary for about ten years, until, probably because of overwhelming workloads, I stopped. It does not take a great deal of time to draw a cartoon. I've been drawing them for more than 25 years. It does take some quiet time for the ideas to filter in. I ordinarily take an event from my daily life and twist it a bit. I have collected about 10 books full of cartoons over the years and have thought about publishing some of them, but I would rather start fresh. So an easy way to start I thought may be to make characatures of my students. Why not. They are sitting right here- fresh and ready to go.

Then my serious art I set aside- well serious is not the proper word, but when I work, I work in a more intense way that any other thing that I do. I studied with a great artist in Oakland almost fifteen years ago. He captured a style that made my knees weak. My father, an amateur artist, raised me going to museums and loving the artists of the Renaissance. Something in David's drawing style reminded me of the sensitivity of Da Vinci's and Rafael. I learned that this style was classical realism. I studied with David Hardy once a week for about three years. Then I would try to take advantage of a week or two's workshops in Taos, New Mexico, Florence, Italy and Toronto Canada. But my practice of realistic painting was always dependent on the workshops that I took during the summer.

And music... Since I started playing the guitar at age fifteen, music had been my easy escape. I am blessed with a good voice and a great love for music. I have played and dabbled in many musical instruments, but guitar remains my great love. At present I am studying and practicing what people refer to as Gypsy Jazz or Django style. My son and musician, Joey, says to me, "Dad, you need to be practicing those arpeggios." And indeed I must, but I do not put in the hours of time necessary to become really good. I took a summer jazz improvisation class two years ago and daily had to practice two to three hours a day just to keep up. I retain some of the skills and knowledge but am extremely rusty on the instrument. I have a wish to record some tunes and play with other- but all are now in the background while I work this demanding job- but just for six more months.

So let us see if at least I can begin with a few characatures to liven this blog.

First and Fifth Period, November 13

"Old age is no place for sissies." Betty Davis

The class where I now sit used to be my quietest class- shy Freshmen. For two months I could hardly get a word out of them. Then two voices emerged, loud and self-important. They happened to be friends. I first moved their seats then they would talk across the room to chat with each other. I moved one to the back and one to the front. Alice sat in the front and behind her a shy diminutive and good matured girl, Maddy. Alice would make seemingly joking, but biting comments to Maddy. I gave an ultimatum to both of them. Either behavior changes or I call home every day. Behavior did not change and I tried to call Alice's mother but the number in our database was wrong. She would not give me her mother's phone number. Boom- referral. So now I sit again in a quiet class as everyone writes in their journal.

Writing prompt: "Would you like to be famous? Create a scenerio where you actually become famous for something that you do well."

Now in fifth period- never ending well of good feeling, but today noisier than usual and eating more. I walk around the room as they are chatting and should be quiet. Proximity to try to get them to focus. It works to some degree but there is still some chattering. I walk up to the front and ring my bell. Then there is silence. Most are writing in their journals. Becca is a little late. "Sorry, Mr. Lynch." So polite. It has not gotten to the point where I can hear a pin drop. Then I hear a page turn and a pencil drop. "Mr. Lynch, can I go to the bathroom." Now some more whispering. I must get up and stamp their journals. My aids anxiously await the vocabulary quizzes that they grade for me every week. The sun is shining, the students are happy to be here. It is a good day and it's Friday.

Antsy Sixth Period

There's Bryan in front of me eating a sandwich just after lunch. I had to move him to my friend, Alta's room. Ari passes a note to Megan who passes it to Hana. Hana drinks from her soda then has a brief conversation with Ari. Eva is asking Ari something. Ben is sitting there in front of his journal doing nothing- wait, wait, he is now writing. Brian is taking a big swig of something orange. Nicole is reading Lord of the Flies, which was the homework for last night. Bryan just made two loud coughs. Brenden is quiet. Hmmm, I wonder what is wrong. Ginsea is looking to both sides of the room. But the room is quiet- and then I have two little tests and a quick grammar exercise. Max comes up to me and politly asks if he can have the test to take in the RSP room. I give him his tests.

Then I will hand back their literary essays. I am pretty displeased with the shallowness of the analysis, but I am not one to call it to their attention. My main focus is that they follow an argument in a logical way and that they follow the devised five paragraph essay format. It is an easy one and I would estimate that about 50% got it right. I chalk up the shallow thinking to sophomore disability that we will work on. My main goal this year with my English students is to get them to analyze literature, no small task. And in Ender's Game, a light science fiction, the task was difficult. Now as we read "Lord of the Flies" I am bombarding them with symbolism, socio-political theory and Freudian analysis. The should be pulling out the obvious at least.

I sit here now after class exhausted. I crammed the class full of assignments. After journal they took their vocabulary quiz, then a mini- grammar lesson that I go around and hand grade A+ if they get all three sentences correct. Then I gave them what I call the "Did you read Chapter 1? test." I handed back their essays, gave back the portfolios from last year and collected them again. Then for this antsy gregarious bunch I decided to have the class use the text to draw a picture of the island. But they were noisey. I projected a little powerpoint that asks questions about chapter 1 and asked them to answer a series of questions on the back of their map. One kid says, "All of that is in Chapter 1?" So it is. Then, collected it and yes, now I have to grade it.

Just as the bell rings and the students leave, the phone rings. Lindsey tells me that there is a student study team for Anothony in whose room? I walk to the other side of the campus to the wrong room and finally make it to the right one. This student has been struggling all year, more of a Junior High School type Freshman, in term of maturity. He is confident that he can turn in a story, pass the upcoming vocabulary quizes and read ten more chapters of a book where he has only gotten to Chapter 5.

So here I am. Now what am I doing tomorrow? 3:45 PM- time to prep for tomorrow's classes.

The Social Contract

Several forces have converged to make me think about the social contract. In my one history class as we study the Enlightenment, my focus for the class is to have them understand the social contract. Briefly the social contract posits a tacit understanding between the government and the governed so that that an orderly society might ensue.

I googled "social contract" and came up with a variety of videos. Most captivating was the wacko anarchists who appeared to be the only ones to truely understand the concept. But I felt that they railed against a theory which really has changed since we had kings. They point out the inherent contradictions in social contract in that citizens really have no say on whether to sign on to this contract or not. Perhaps the idea is only an idea to put into nice words the reality of governments relationship to the governed. If you are happy with the government, then one will feel good about the "contract". If you are discontented with government as most anarchists are, then the social contract is unfair.

The Internet shows various ways that activists use the term social contract. A left leaning group uses the concept to reevaluate the relationship between workers and a company. What obligations does a company have towards its workers? Another tries to evaluate the success of a government in the way that it provides services to the people. In the health care debate, many are calling universal health care part of the social obligation of the government within social contract theory. Although the terms seems to have lost its relevance in terms of its use by Hobbes and Locke, the public uses the phrase to boost its particular take on sociopolitical problems.

We come to English and I have a choice of books. Lord of the Flies seems to fit the bill in terms of developing an idea of social contract or lack of it. We are reading from the afterward in the book that tells of all the deeper meanings in the book. I am trying to give them some background to understand the forces at work. So first we deal with the Freudian concepts of Id, Ego and Super-Ego. Then we take on the social philosophers of Hobbes, Locke and Rousseau.

St. Joseph's Seminary - Part 2

Joe Cahill, I don't mind using his real name, was an ass. Perhaps he had positive characteristics but I hadn't known any. Before I knew what a Republican was, I knew that he was a Republican. It was just after the election of John F. Kennedy and every day produced a tirade against Kennedy. He tried to teach us world history, perhaps tried as best he could, but he wasn't very good. "You throw shit against the wall and usually some of it stickes." He used to say. "But with you, guys, none of it stickes." I suppose I do remember something from that class. Perhaps his better qualities were in University administration because he became the President of St. John's University in Jamiaca, New York.

Joe Marin taught us Latin- kind, young and handsome. He would come into the class with his Latin book, open it up and actually get excited about Caesar's Gallic Wars. He loved giving us the Latin words for all of the war munitions of the Roman army and talking Roman strategy and famous battles. Even though I found Latin very difficult, I enjoyed is relaxed manner and easy laugh. Here was a priest who like people and young people in specific. The difficulty would come when he gave us a test. The Monday after the test he would walk in truely crestfallen. He would sit down at his desk and put both hands over his face. He was very quiet. Then he would slowly rub his face up and down slowly, then a few groans. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong," he would say. Then he would repeat it several times. Then he would pull out the test papers. It was an effective teaching technique. We felt so bad for disappointing him that we actually tried a little harder next time.

I was on the Internet yesterday looking for a photo of Joe Cahill for this blog. One would think that the former President of St. John's University would have a photo on the Internet. He died several years ago, but it appears that he left without a trace. But I accidentally came across a disturbing website. It was a database of priests who had been accused of sexual misconduct. Fortunately Joe Cahill had not, but there were thousands of priests and some had photos as well as links to the news stories as well as a summary of their crimes or alledged crimes.

Since I had know so many Vincentian priests I decided to search the database for priests that I had known. At first when I seached "Vincentian" alphabetically, most of the priest that I came up with were from the west coast. But then I came up with someone I knew. I will not relate his crime. He was a year or so ahead of me in the seminary. The most shocking thing for me was that an event placed him higher than most others in my opinion.

I left the seminary in my Senior year of university. It so happened that my mother died that June in 1972. He was the only person who sent me a letter of sympathy on my mother's death. All of those Vincentians, and perhaps they didn't know, but he was the only person part of that community to send me a note. It meant a lot to me at the time.

I think of all the contradictions in this issue. The community that I belonged to was begun by a parish priest in Paris of the 1600's who saw the corruption of the diocesan clergy. Corruption at that time probably had to do mostly with sexual abuses and money collections. Priest led loose lives at that time little connected with a community of priests. So we had the idea that our particular order should have rooted out the "bad apples". I don't really consider this priest a bad apple. I subscribe to the school that teaches that we are all human. We are all subject to making mistakes, even big mistakes. And these mistakes, especially some kind of sexual behavior with a minor, come from a real isolation from physical and possibly even close collegial relationships.

Since I began this piece with Joe Cahill, I will end it with his paid obituary in the New York Times, September 30, 2003.

"CAHILL--Rev. Joseph T., CM, 84, Priest and Educator of the Congregation of the Mission (Vincentian Community) on September 27. Former pres. (24 yrs) St. John's University, NY. Mass 12 noon Thursday, Star of the Sea Church, Cape May, NJ. Viewing Thursday 10-11:30AM Sudak-Danaher Funeral Home, Cape May. Mass also on Friday 10:30 AM at St. Joseph's Seminary Chapel, Princeton. Interment St. Joseph's Seminary Cemetery. Donations Lilian & Benjamin Hertzberg Palliative Care Institute, Mt. Sinai Medical Center, Box 1070, NY, NY 10029. It was through this institute that Fr. Cahill received extraordinarily competent, compassionate and respectful care."

"sic transit gloria mundi."

St. Joseph's Seminary

The campus of the seminary sprawled from east to west over about 200 acres, just north across Lake Carnegie from Princeton, University. A dairy bordered one side, a large nursery backed the property and small sheep farm was just across the road. We could tell if it would rain if we smelled the cow manure coming from the east. Across Canal Road we had a large pine forest, trail, grotto just next to the no longer used Raritan Canal. A footpath separated the canal from Lake Carnegie. The signs of life outside this isolated oasis were few. Cars still speeded by, black fishermen with their rods and buckets would walk along the canal path and once or twice a year a lost driver would stop and ask for directions. Sometimes we watched the daughter of the grounds keeper twirl her baton just outside their home, a hundred yards across the front lawn. It was a modest cause for excitement for her face and figure blurred in that distance. Yet it was still the only trace of a youthful females in this male dominated enclave.

A group of German refugee nuns occupied the original seminary building on the far east of the property. Then the main seminary building, a large gothic stone edifice, had two wings and three floors. The dormitory on the top floor had a seperate t-shaped room on each wing with 32 beds in each wing. Since each bed sat only 3 feet from the next someone devised a modest method to undress in the evening and dress in the morning. Of course it involved a robe and sequence of steps so that no would have impure thoughts triggered by viewing the underpants of another boy. Yet the gymnasim showers were a completely open space where any hiding of any part of one's anatomy. The first time I saw the room full of naked boys, it shocked me.

When the alarm rang to wake us at 6 AM we would walk down three floors to the lockers in the basement, grab a towel and take a shower. Still sleepy we'd walk to the chapel, take our assigned seats, listen to a short prayer or thought of the day. Then we'd sit and meditate, or daydream or nap. Strangely enough we were never really taught how to meditate and the hour itself- 6:30 AM, made true meditation all but impossible.

The main floor of the main building held two classrooms in the main hall and a reference library at one end of the hall. At the other end of the hall was the former refectory. Eventually all classes were moved to the main building. I don't know how some of these rooms were subsumed by other occupation, except to remember that as editor of the YV, The Young Vincentian, I worked in one of those rooms with AB Dick paraphenalia to produce a literaty magazine. At the other end of the hall was storage, I believe. As I am limited by time, I must abbreviate this memoir. So silent good reader, if you want more, you must ask for it.

"Little Ed" begins High School- Part 1

We had a meeting the other day with an entire entourage of caregivers. Two psychologists, a counselor, parents, school principal and six teachers but the student was nowhere in sight. It is clear that he was drowning in the overwhelming demands of high school. I was such a student.

I had struggled all through elementary school, but high school was another level of difficulty. I had moved out of a loving but crowded household at the age of 13. Another school private seminary had rejected me in eighth grade because of low entrance exam scores. But my father had connections. Both he and his brother, Francis, attended a Catholic seminary in the early 1940's just as World War II began. Some of his best friends were priestd now and my Dad took me to see the place, St. Joseph's in Princeton, New Jersey at the tender age of 12. I remember his words exactly. "It's not so important that you become a priest, but they can teach you how to study."

At the age of eleven I had expressed an interest in becoming a priest. It seems like a good idea at the time- being raised in a deeply religious family, it seemed to offer the opportunity to see the world and do good all at the same time. But by the summer of eighth grade I had started to change my mind. Girls had started to get my attention. And I said, "Dad, I think that I would rather wait until after high school to enter the seminary." My Dad knew better. He knew that if I did not enter now, that there would be little chance that I would be interested after high school. So I quote his reply in the previous paragraph.

I remember trying to read Great Expectations as a Freshman. I might as well have been trying to read Greek. (Greek would come later.) Every subject was far more difficult than I had ever had to do before, especially Algebra. I could say especially everything: World History, English, Latin, Algebra, and Theology. I think that they were all of the subjects. I pulled staight "F's". In fact the seminary school graded us with numbers and not letters. Under 70 was failing. So it came as a revelation once I left the seminary that a 69% was actually a D+.

I often feel a comradeship with failing freshmen. I know what it feels like to be at the bottom. I know what it feels like to be hopeless and overwhelmed. I was convinced that I was stupid. I know now that many of my problems stemmed from a reading disability. When I was in seventh grade, I could hardly read. I remember looking at the funny papers as a child, but only having the energy to read "Henry", a comic of few or no words. Somehow I was lucky. I wanted to read in spite of my disability. I pushed my way through my first book "The Longest Day" because I was interested in the subject.

I tell my Freshman that I am the only person at Analy High School to have attended five years of high school. My first year in the seminary was such a failure that they gave me the option of returning only if I repeated my Freshman year. Fortunately I wasn't alone. Dennis Greeley and Seth Copeland were my companions on this journey through a second Freshman year.

Every 15 minutes

For two days our staff and students participated in program called "Every 15 minutes". On the average every fifteen minutes a teenager dies in a traffic accident. I think that that is the statistic. The idea is to bring teens away from making reckless choices about drinking and driving, even deciding to ride with a drunk.

An announcement comes over the loudspeaker. It is the recreation of a 911 call. Something like, "Oh, my God, there's been an accident over on Franklin Road." "Is anybody hurt?" "I don't know." "Stay there I'm sending a police and ambulance over as quickly as possible."

That message is our cue to send the teachers down to a place below school where two cars have apparently collided. A girl, bloodied is hanging out of a broken window. As all 1300 students watch, first a police car arrives, followed by several more, a first responder rescue squad, a fire truck and an ambulance. The first responders ascertain the situation. The big equipment comes out to cut open the car and rescue the injured in the back seat. The girl who went through the window is put in a body bag and taken by the coroner. One of girls in back seat is brought to a waiting helicopter and flown to a trauma center. Another of the injured is placed in an ambulance to be taken to the local hospital. A policeman subjects the driver of one vehicle to a sobriety test. Then the cop places him in handcuffs and excourts him to the back seat of the waiting police vehicle. A dozen students and one teachers along with the grim reaper stand by. On the previous day, every 15 minutes one person was removed from the student body, symbolizing the death of a student in a traffic accident every 15 minutes in the United States.

The next day the entire school assembles in the gym. We get the back-story there. A fifteen minute film is assembled reviewing the events of the previous day, but adding the visit to the hospital, the communications with parents and the booking of the drunk driver. Many of the support staff have take the victims and their families though a simulated accident scenerio during those two days. The parents of the "deceased" have written a letter to their "dead" child. Their children have written back from the grave and both read their stories to the assembled 1200 students and support staff. Then an undertaker described in detail how he gives dead people their last bath. Sometimes he can clean them up so the family can say their last goodbyes face to face and sometimes that isn't possible. He discribed how a family had to feel a loved one through the body bad. A twenty six year old woman spoke about driving with a friend from Oakland to Sebastopol. Her friend, Alex, did sound for the band that night and stayed sober. Driving at the intersection of Stoney Point and Route 116 a car driven by a drunk Sonoma State student hit them so hard that their car with them in it ended up in a field and her friend, Alex died and cushoned the fall for her.

Then our principal, Chris Heller got up. "I would like everyone to know that I am six feet six and I am a man's man and it's OK to cry." And so as he read an emotional statement about how he cannot imagine a day without his two daughters, and choked over those words.

It is hard to know if this three day presentation will have a real impact, but it emotially touched many at the moment.

My new Mac

After six, maybe seven years with the Imac or sunflower mac as I have know it, I purchased a new computer. I could go in several directions from here. I could write about the data that I have lost in when this computer crashed. Then that memory would remind me of how "someone" dumped all of my documents in the trash, trying to get my machine to process faster...something about confusing the "documents" folder with the "mydocuments" folder. It is difficult to know how many gigs that I have lost, but equate it with the loss of possessions. Nostagicly I miss them. But my life is far better without them.

The machine crashed sevearl times while I was on the Internet Saturday. I had been thinking about not only getting a new machine but also an ipod touch (a topic for another blog). I went to Best Buy and saw the latest Mac Mini- 4 gigs ram, 320 gig hard drive and two point something gigahertz at $799. I told them that I would take it. The salesman went to get it and when he came back he said they were out.

The next day I went to the Mac store with Truckee. My purchase was easy. I knew what I wanted and except for some questions about cable I was set. Truckee thought that he still had a warranty and was replacing his cable. It turned out his warranty was finished, but the "Mac Genius" reluctantly replaced the battery nevertheless. We decided that it was Apple's way of leaving a positive impression for customers.

Truckee is a gosend for computer problem solving. We talked about the ways to transfer all of the information from my old Mac to my new one. He said we could use his hard drive to create a daisy chain. It worked like a charm, taking two and a half hours to transfer my materials over to my new machine. Last night I loaded the first 850 of my ten thousand photos from my photo card to iphoto. I long ago exceeded the capacity of my old machine for photos. For the first time I even gave Donna a musical slide show of our trip.

My only difficulty is finding enough free time to enjoy my new machine.

Drowning

Saturday night our good friend Jesse had a CD release party. He played and sang songs that he wrote during a year in the high desert in New Mexico. His performance includes a plethora of kiddy toys, instruments and sound effects. Then he was joined by some friends :Peter on piano and toy piano, Ben on guitar and bass and Max on drum and trombone. Jesse played a song where he mentioned drowning and my mind went back to a time when I was seven years old.

That day my family was to visit my wife's sister, Jane, at Immaculata Convent, a place where women become nuns. In the morning father gave me a little soldier helmet, army green and only about a half inch in diameter. I put it in my pocket. I remember the vast lawns of the Pennsylvania country setting. My cousins, Jimmy, Johnny and I enjoyed disappearing to another part of the campus. This day we found a resevoir, only about 20 yards long and maybe 15 yards wide. From the outside we could see little frogs sitting and sunning on the concrete rim of the pool. We climbed the metal fence, maybe four feel high, to catch some frogs.

The concrete rim, about 10 inches in width rimmed the rectangle and on each side a metal pipe where water entered. I slipped on this metal pipe and my foot went in, getting both my shoe and the cuff of my Sunday trousers wet. I thought, "I'm really going to get into trouble." As I scooted along the edge once again my foot slipped but this time I lost my balance and slid whole body into the pool. I remember Jimmy and Johnny quickly jumping the fence and running to get help.

I could not swim, but I floundered. My hands pushing the water, somehow bringing my head up now and then for a breath. I must have been successful for sometime in this chaotic attempt to stay afloat because my family was pretty far away as I remember. First my Uncle Matt, the my Uncle Joe arrived and they had a pole they wanted me to grab but I was too far toward the middle. The my dad jumped the fence and dived in. He pulled me to edge and the group all pulled me out. I remember little at Immaculata after that. I was wet. I was afraid they would be angry at me. Soon we headed home. I was convinced that I had ruined everyone's day.

I remember sitting on my bed after I had come home and my dad sitting next to me. I remember my dad saying that when he jumped in that were pipes, not too far below the surface and that he could have been impaled upon them. I reached into my pockets and realized that I had lost that little soldier helmet. I told my dad that I was disappointed that I had lost it. He said, "I thought I lost you."

I had no feeling of impending death, as far as I can remember. A child lives in the now, atleast a child of seven. Yet I remember a time in my childhood several years later when I thought I was going to hell. Then I feared death, for I feared that I would spend eternity suffering. Imagine that. More about that issue in some other blog.

The Five Paragraph Essay

My goal for my English classes this year is to try to help them think more deeply about literature. I am not sure but it may be an impossible task- something to do with an undeveloped frontal cortex. For my sophomores I have had them work in groups for two weeks. They are reading Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. They had to deal with at least one topic and get evidence from the book on that topic (Have I written about this?). They then get at least three quotes about the topic and make conclusions based on what they have found. It reverses the normal process of creating you classic high school literary essay, taking it from a deductive process to an inductive process. They look for evidence then make a conclusion based on the evidence.

Several of the English teachers here at Analy developed a clear way to write a cookie cutter essay for Freshman and Sophomores. In the first paragraph the student writes the thesis or the opinion. The next three paragraphs are evidence for proving the thesis. Each evidence paragraph has five parts. First the writer introduces the paragraph by giving the context of the quote that follows. Who said it? Where were they? What was the situation in the book? The second part the write just writes down the quote in quotation marks, of course. Then the student references the work and page. (Lynch 49) Part 4: The students puts the quote into his or her own words. Part five is the hard part. The writer must figure out how the quote helps to prove or give evidence to the thesis. We call it the ICCEE method: 1) Introduce the quote. 2) Copy down the quote. 3) Cite the quote. 4) Explain what the quote means. 5) Elaborate, explore or expand on the significance of the quote.

Beside being a good approach to deeper thinking in general, this process is perfect for high school students because they know very little anyway. Instead of forcing a topic that they know nothing about, they become educated on the topic, then make conclusion. The next step is to write the classic five paragraph essay from the evidence they have found. By this time the essay should practically write itself.

Just an aside:
In my sixth period class I saw one of my students draw a picture of penis and balls and give it to a girl. I don't know what was said, but I told him to see me after class. I said to him, "Whenever I see a high school drawing of penis and balls, I will think that you did it." "You drew that picture and gave it to a girl?", I continued. "It's not what you're thinking." He said. I am not really sure what I was thinking. I said, "Drawings of penises and balls do not belong in school. If you're going to draw it, do it away from here." He was deeply embarrassed and he apologized. I said that he could go.

A New Quarter

Last night I unloaded all my frustrations on Donna. She is a good supportive listener. I look at it this way: One quarter of the pie is finished of this crazy busy year. I had a talk with Joe Hile, one of the counselors. He had all of the Freshmen last year and knows the trouble makers. He said to me talking of sixth period, "That's an unbelievable class. I cannot imagine the greatest teacher being able to handle that class. It has all the 'bad guys' from last there except..." So we agreed to meet with the principal and see if we can make some modifications.

The quarter means time to change seating. I feel so powerful. Some complain, some like the results. Overall I feel bad putting some the good kids in the back because they may miss a little. I buffer the real problems. So Mark in Period 4 is in the front, surrounded by "good girls". My sixth period having 4 major problems and 5 minor problems is a little more difficult to rearrange. I find out today how my plan worked.

My first essays and stories of the year are starting to come. I must prepare for the major part of my weekends taken up reading and correcting papers. I am trying to forstall some of the process by having students check each others papers and I have a valuable and clear checklist they go by.

Second quarter- here I come.

Home Coming Rally

Ah high school. Well first you should know that I wasn't there. But it was the talk of the English lunch. One of the boys came out in black-face, actually it was a full black body in tights. But the hit of the show was the background song "Dick in a Box". Two girls (I think two) were dressed as men and came out and stripped down to their underwear. On top of their underwear at the crotch was a small box. And I guess that opened the box to pull out a crown. The references apparently go to a Saturday Night Live Program that most people who have a TV are familiar with. Not only the principal watched but the Superintendent and the Assistant Superintendent. Should I care about the ignorance and insensitivity of teenagers? Is this a sign of the downfall of American culture? or just bad taste? Sensitive readers, what do you think?

Bill

Donna's Dad visited this weekend. We had a long conversation about being President of our local union. His presidency was filled with conflicts with what he considered a bellicose administration. We are planning a trip together this summer, this time to Italy. Bill is 79. Up until a couple of years ago he could keep up with my fast pace and still he is a good walker. But after dinner when Donna and I decided to take a little walk, he opted not come with us. His joints are starting to ache. I wonder if a knee operation would do any good.

We were doing the New York Times Sunday Crossword puzzle together. And the name of Homus Wagner came up. It turns out that Bill has a Homus Wagner baseball card from the 1920's as well as one of Babe Ruth. He took the Babe Ruth to a local dealer in Santa Cruz who said that the black and whites were not worth much. I started looking up the prices and it turns out they they are worth quite a bit, probably in the thousands is my guess. He is sending me a photocopy so I can check.

Bill also reads prolificly and has been unloading his store of books on us, as if we needed more books. But it is fun to go through them. He reads widely on politics and culture. He was teaching Spanish at a local adult school but they dropped the class because of not enough sign ups.

We are planning a trip together in June to Italy. He speaks what I consider fluent Italian, but he says that the others in his class are better than he is. We have a great invitation to visit San Benedito, Marche with an old friend of Donna's. Lomberto has offered us an extra apartment that they own and a car. He also promised to show us Italy as an Italian would see it. Bill is talking about also taking his step-daughter, Maya, with us if she wants to go. Rome, Pompey, Hurculeum and Naples are all places I want to see. The last time I was in Rome was 1973. It sounds like a great trip.

Escape to Riga, Latvia

Last night as I was walking home, I passed the shop where I last had my hair cut. I had been feeling the pressures of tons of paper work, pressures of being the president of my association- always too many things to do. Then I thought of the last time that I had sat in the barber chair at that shop.

Just before my trip to Russia in June I decided to try and remove some of the gray from my hair. I pictured the stylist just bringing some of my old color back. She somehow decided that a light yellow blond was closest to the color that I have now. When I arrived home, Donna thought it was dreadful. She was really the only person who didn't like it, but maybe the most important person to comment on my tonsorial changes.

Then in July I traveled to Latvia, a place full of lovely blonds. And I was talking to two lovely Latvians, one of them had very natural blond with a little brown. She said to me, "I wish that I had blond hair like yours." I didn't reply but I thought that it was one of the funniest things anyone could say to me. Not only is my hair color from a bottle, but also I have a huge bald spot in the back of head. Let's say that I am past my prime. She certainly was at the height of hers.
It just makes me laugh.

Reality check: Here I am back in my sixth period. I will try to help them make graphic visualization of their ideas. These ideas have come from an inductive search of the text. Over all not an easy task for anyone. Let's see how this sixth period does.

Class Preparation

After school yesterday we had a faculty meeting right after school. My prep time on Tuesday is the first period of the day. Consequently I work on getting ready for my Sophomores. Ordinarily I will then take the time after school to prepare for classes the next day. But right after school to day we had a faculty meeting till 2:20 PM. Then I had to "meet the Sup" (or Superintendent). Representatives from our teachers association meet with him once a month to hash out problem and talk about things going on in the district on an informal basis. It is a very valuable meeting. That meeting went until 5 PM. I went home almost immediately and fixed dinner- for Joey and me. I quickly swallowed down dinner to make it my Italian class (my one after school indulgence this year) just a little late. I walked home and sat down with a glass of wine and chatted about the day with Donna for about a half hour. I went to the livingroom, turned on my laptop and promptly fell asleep.

So there goes my careful planning of the next day's lesson plan. Nevertheless I had prepared part of a quiz for my Freshmen but I still wanted to compose a quote quiz. I had done some preparation but did not actually compose the quote portion of the quiz. I got up at my usual time 6 AM but rushed my breakfast. I walked to work as usual then rushed to my computer and googled "To Kill a Mockingbird""Key quotes". I quickly assembled a quote test and had it on time to give to my student.

The preceeding story is by no means an endorsement for this kind of class preparation.

First Rain

The local news stories tell of farmers rushing to get their grapes harvested. One man brought several tons of grapes to the wine making supply store and sold a ton of zinfandel for fifty cents a pound- very cheap. Donna was finalizing the last of her Fall planting late last night. I caught Truckee last night as I was arriving home and he was leaving to see his girlfriend in Gilroy, at least a three hour drive. The day before he sealed the room of the trailer and investigated possible tarps and tents that would protect it in the rains. Joey was taking his Folengong class. So I ate alone on this cloudy chilly evening a spicy cornbread casserole.

Sure enough a pounding windy rain began in the middle of the night. For this drought stricken state it is good news so early in the season- but also difficult to know if it will continue. I drove for the second time this year and gathered extra bags- one from my union anticipating at least an attempt at organzing my papers. My class sits here now- semi-quiet writing in the journal. The question of the day" "Describe your feelings about the rain. Do you have a story about getting stuck in the rain? Or a story about getting totally soaked? Or just playing in the rain?

Now I am in my sixth period class. "Can I run to the bathroom really quick?" "My locker won't open. I need Max to help me open it." As the drip, drip, drip of the out drain drips on my airconditioner. I just gave Brendan a dirty look because he was in the wrong seat and he moved.

Now to curriculum: Finish your worksheet: How is your life like Ender's life in terms of Adult support for life skills, spiritual support, socialization, and dreams that you pursue. In my fourth period Michael gave all adults a five out of five score. In Ender's game adults are brutal and children are brutal with each other and brutal upon themselves. Now their task is to present 32 different possible topics to write about in Ender's game. They collect the evidence from quotes in the book and I hope that they will a cogent class presentation in a couple of days. If all goes well I will have 64 essays on 32 different topics.

I look forward to October 24th when my compadres in English help me grade them. Today I will meet with the superintendent for our monthly informal. Then I go to my second Italian class at Viva.

One plus one equals three.

The title is on my blackboard this morning. I thought that I would have them guess why. Originally I meant it for my third period World History class. Then I thought about my Freshman and Sophomore English students. They all happen to be working on cooperative learning tasks at this time. My point is that the major reason that I form groups with students is so they can produce more. I am especially interested in the art of discussion or Socratic learning where an idea is introduced and the discussion and more depth about the idea comes to light with discussion.

In my first period class no one even came close to guessing why I had put the equation on the board. Most said "because your not so good at math." or some such thing. They are so literal. But when I explained it in term of the papers that some turned in and some did not turn in, they understood very clearly.

Period three, World History, individually outlined a section of the book. Then the groups were suppose to work together to build a PowerPoint. Some groups worked very well together. Others had observable loose ends. I will have this discussion my World History class today. My inclination is to separate those who have not been productive. They create their own individual projects. In history two people volunteered to do individual projects. One of those I had in mind to do it but there were several others who did not volunteer. They will wait until Wednesday for a non-volunteers.

Last Wednesday I came up with what I thought was a brilliant project for my Sophomore English students. I created eight topics from the book Ender's game. I wrote out the directions so that students must find quotes in the book that would give insight to author's intentions in writing about "the relationships between children and adults" for example. I'll try to remember to include a copy of the lesson in the link right here. They they were to search the book for evidence of those quotes to see what the quotes actually said. First this process uses inductive reasoning. It is a difficult task for anyone, so I know that they will struggle with this project. Second this process should prepare them to write a literary essay using the quotes as evidence.

We had just had a quiz where I found out who had been reading the book and who hadn't been. I let those who had been reading out in the hall to work on the project together. For those who did not read we listened to a reading of the book in class.

As a literature teacher I stuggle with those who do not read the book. But also I empathize because I had a reading disability in school. It is still easier for me to listen to a novel than read it. But also I try to provide opportunities for them to read in class as well as hold them accountable for the work even if it is difficult.

I further stress the one plus one problem in my fifth period class. I said, "I can deal with one plus one equals two. I can not deal with one plus one equals one or worse, one plus one equals zero. The combination of workers on any one project should produce more and not less."

Spirit Week

This is "Spirit Week" at Analy High School. I remember the first time that I experienced this Sebastopol phenomenon. I had just come from the West Contra Costa Unified School District, the poorest district in the state of California- formerly named the Richmond Unified School District before its bankruptcy. Students there came from lower middle class and lower class homes. Students here elaborately decorated halls and stairwells. Each class collects money for this extravaganza and the leadership club for each class goes out and buys decorations. Classes compete with each other for the faciest hallway and the best decorations. In a matter of hours the decorations are torn down by the competing classes. What a waste!

My Sophomores today are now writing in their journals but they are a little more noisey than usual. Most are dressed in green, some in green face paint. Now 2 and a half hours later I have my sixth period here again, many in green. I see one girl in front of me with a green pencil. I don't know if that counts. Just before lunch was the rally- Lots of screaming kids, dance numbers and sample videos by each students. All these events preceed what is called the "apple game". The Analy football team plays the El Molino football team. Normally Analy wins but I think that last year was an upset.

The Flu Hits and an update

Donna called last night to tell me that Joey was down with the flu. When I arrived home he was severely suffering. I went into his room just to say "hi". Donna and I are trying to remember to wash our hands and are longing to get a flu shot. "They should be ready early next week." I heard on the news today. That is too far away.

A meeting in Santa Clara all weekend, Sunday Donna and I went to hardly strictly bluegrass. Monday, I can hardly remember. But Tuesday, sixth period- our principal, Chris knocked on my door of my room to watch me teach I think. The class was very quiet because they were taking a test. This is my very difficult group with no fewer than 6 major behavior problems. He didn't come back, but I wonder if he has heard anything about them.

During the day between classes I was dealing with this class cap problem, aforementioned in my last blog. We think that it has been resolved. Bill, the mouth, wants to be included in the Rep Council emails. Helen said that I should look at past practice and I did. Past practice is the Rep Council is notified and as the courtesy, the head of the negotiating team. That leaves Bill out. But because I don't want a fight, I included him.

Susan, the VP and I were getting the agenda together for the Rep Council meeting on Thursday. I get a call from my retirement counselor to arrange a meeting for my neglected retirement details. The big question: "Will I get service credit for a teaching job that I had more than thrity years ago?" Then I got a call from Donna that Ben, the swing/ gypsy guitar player had called to get together. Saturday morning was his best time and ordinarily a good time for me, except for a CTA meeting from 9 AM till 2 PM this week. I missed my moment to call him back.

Also another meeting to look forward to tonight- My escape was a new Italian class that I am taking. This is an Italian class that I can relate too. I am the only male. And they pour wine and eat biscotti. "A little wine loosens the tongue." This is an Italian quote. Except for this week we will have a access to some good Italian wines to loosen our tongues. We practiced spitting our "gli" in class. I loved it. I have a couple of layers of French and Russian to dig through to bring Italian back to forfront. Marche here I come.

Another 5 AM

Three of us CTA Union members came back from the Leadership meeting this weekend. Some of the words that ring in may head are "make time for you family", "don't let the union rule your life" and "don't go around putting out fires". Having been thinking about this class size for the past three weeks, I am ready for it to be over. But last week in a meeting with the superintendent he suggested- without saying it outright that we file a grievance. Now I am trying to get the facts on the situation. I woke up at five in the morning thinking about this issue. I worry that the district is trying to push the issue after we gave them an opening in one situation. A teacher wanted more students in her class because there was a chance that the class would not be offered the next semester. Unfortunately increasing the class size also violated the collective bargaining contract.

We have had formal and informal meetings to try and remedy this one problem. A week later I find out that we have two such problems. Sorry, but at this moment I am overwhelmed in paperwork.
I am creating an agenda for an upcoming Rep Council meeting. I must go on line and fine our tax forms to complete a FAFSA Report for our daughter's financial aid. I do not mention the piles of paper from school assignments I must grade and the curriculum that I must write for tomorrow. But ahhhhh, tonight is my first Italian class in a couple of year. I will relax there- for just a bit.

Not Strictly Bluegrass

After a Friday and Saturday at the CTA Leadership conference, Susan and Kathy dropped me off at the corner of 19th and Lincoln in San Francisco. Busloads of people poured from buses to join the hoards in the park for the Not Strictly Bluegrass Festival. After a half hour of waiting I walked across the street to call Donna and find out what delayed her- Message machine. When she arrived at 12:30 she said, "I've got to ask Truckee how to work this cell phone. I didn't hear the phone until after you had left a message. We parked at 25th and Lawton and walked to the park.

Four venues have top acts from around the United States, all funded by a rich man named "Helman", apparently of Silicon Valley fame, not the manyonaise fortune. We climbed down a steep embankment to join the hoard at the arrow stage and Booker T- or is it Brooker T- Gravely voiced singer and rock band. We put ourselve close to a center corodor at this stage just in back of the sound man. Crowds of people were sitting on tarps, blankets, beach chairs and jackets. A sound booth blocked the view for a few small plots of green. At the break I could see the stage except for a tall man in black leaning against a large speaker. "Do you think that you are going to sit down when the show starts?" I asked politely. "No" He answered. Let me try it again. "Do you think that you are going to sit down when the show starts, asshole?"

We heard Rodney Crowell sing his pointed songs about love lost and family conflicts, his brother a twin, who became a "rent boy" on Hollywood Boulevard. Then we stood in the food booth lines. The booths were severing great food at reasonable price- but the Cajun Garlic Fries were gone and the line were long, but friendly. One of the cooks tried to stir up the crowd, "Hey, Isn't Bod Dylan playing at 1 PM?" (He wasn't there.)

We walked over the far stage- the chicken stage to hear Mavis Staples- one of the daughters in the famous Staple Family Singers- who led many of Martin Luther King's rallies around the United States in the sixties. We caught the end of rollicking gospel band and pushed ahead to be within about 50 yards of the stage- close for us. We eyed a tarp and a small blanket and a small green area that filled up quickly. A tall young woman sat down next to us, but as soon as the band began she stood in front of Donna, at four foot eleven, a humorous scene quickly remedied by Donna moving in front of her.

Mavis's voice, at one moment smooth and low, the next horse and gravely. Levon, Eyes on the Prize, numerous songs by "Pops Staples" and a few favoirites from the seventies. The guitar player had a rough but fluid style- the back up singers had meliflouse voices especially the one male singer. The sound of the huge crowd obviously excited Mavis and pushed her to perform at her peak. She told stories of the civil rights movement and the family band and got the crowd singing at the top of their lungs. Donna called Anna in Alaska to give her a taste of the show. The noise was so loud, Donna didn't know whether she had gotten through or not. Later Anna called and said, "I thought that the call was a wrong number."