See how they run!

Well, as I alluded to in the last post, I'm getting better and better at determining exactly what is frustrating me about this little shindig. I unleashed my theory on poor Dad the other day, but I think it boils down to me feeling stifled. Or stymied. Or some other sti/sty word that I will perhaps think of in the middle of the night. Basically, I find myself bereft of the ability to be creative. Muffled. Forced to think inside the box. I understand why I feel like this, and I also understand that TFA has an incredibly hard job teaching 600 novices how to become decent teachers in 5 weeks (a job I very much appreciate). But still.

Since I'm still trying to enforce my self-imposed moratorium on complaining, I'll cut it off here, and instead let you know what I've been doing in order to avoid thinking about how frustrated I am:

1. Baking. My roommates love me.
2. Watching Movies. This is pure escapism. I have purchased no fewer than 11 movies while at Institute, and I'm slowly making my way through them. Something to know for the future: I think my greatest weakness might be $5-7 DVDs. Do not let me near the Wal-Mart entertainment section or I will go crazy. I don't even want to tell you some of the less-than-stellar titles I almost picked up because they were only $5. Also, Amazon was having a great sale (thanks for all the gift certificates, family!)
3. Teaching Myself to Draw. If talent with a pencil is a genetic trait, I should probably have it. So I'm trying to unlock that part of myself. Today was my first lesson, and--speaking as the teacher and student--I must say it went... OK. At this stage in the game, I'm googling peoples' line drawings and copying them. I found sketches of a cartoonish man and woman on someone's blog and did my best. For some reason, I can only draw sad eyes. Perhaps all the characters that inhabit Imagination Town have had some sort of recent trauma. The woman's ears looked nice, though. The man kind of looked like a cartoon Brad Pitt with Conan O'Brien's hair. I haven't figured out whether or not this is a good thing... Oh, and I'm awesome at eyebrows. Probably the least helpful part of the face to know how to draw, but I've got it down.
   

Follow-up question for self: Is there such thing as a helpful part of the face to know how to draw? Must think on this one.

DNS: I had sushi for the first time on Friday. Yes, I managed to avoid it in the Greenhouse Cafe for four years, though the end-of-the-year Board Plus Surplus (Board SurPlus?) always tempted me. But I did it right and went to a real sushi restaurant (which was really cool, by the way, though I'm not entirely comfortable with the tagline "Food. Fun. Flirt." for a restaurant... Discuss...) ANYWAY, it was... surprisingly good. I'm 98% sure I ordered the lamest one on the menu (aka the one that tasted most like chicken), but hey, at least I tried!

Totally Awesome Person of the Week (TAPoW): Fellow fontophile Megan, for sending me this link after my last post.

And now, of course, it is well past my bedtime. Must wake up tomorrow and do it all over again.

Please let me know how you all are doing, and whether or not your fifth graders are able to make inferences...
--amfm

Go crazy is what I will do

This morning, we had the kids write what they wanted to be when they grew up. It was like pulling teeth.
Teacher: “What do you want to be?”
Student: “I don’t know.”
T: “You have no idea?”
S: Shakes head
T: “Well, what about a doctor? Lawyer? Teacher?”
S: No, no, heck no (ouch)
T: “What does your mom do?”
S: “She’s a police officer. I don’t want to do that because she’s already doing that.”

Finally, I got one of them to say “builder,” which I turned into “architect.” So now this kid wants to be an architect. But not really. Mainly he just wanted to finish the assignment.

Regardless, the activity got me thinking. In eighth grade, my Enrichment teacher Bob “Bobcat” Metcalf had us write an essay about what we wanted to be when we grew up and why. He said that in all his years teaching (they were many, FYI), not one of his students had ever become what they said they would in eighth grade. I distinctly remember thinking that this was a challenge, and I was SO SURE that I would be the first one to stroll triumphantly back into Blue Valley Middle School (at the ripe old “grown up” age of 25, probably) and proudly, loudly proclaim that I had done it. I also distinctly remember the profession I was so profoundly convinced would be my life’s work: Pediatric Ophthalmologist.

Whoops.

If you will grant me leave to defend myself, I will say that my second choice was lawyer, and if Dr. Dave finally breaks my spirit, law school is something I might consider (See, Dad? I’m thinking about it!) I don’t my think that coming back in with my second choice would satisfy Mr. Metcalf’s challenge, but I’m sure he’d be happy that I’m a teacher.

It just goes to show that you really never know what’s going to come next. Even at the beginning of college, when the teaching idea was beginning to ferment in my mind, I couldn’t have had any idea that I would be here right now, mainly because I had never heard of Teach for America. Also, if I compare the idea of my being a teacher to a bottle of wine, I guess that makes a 2004 vintage. It was a good year for my mind grapes (20 points to the first person to comment with the reference!)

I had some negative things to say today because I think I’m finally getting to the point where I can pinpoint exactly what is frustrating me about this program. However, I think I’ve got to call a moratorium on complaining, at least for the time being. You don’t spend your precious minutes reading this blog to hear me moan about my life, especially not when you could be watching reality TV (::cough:: Marielle ::cough::) If you really want to know what irks me, or if there are any potential applicants out there who would like an accurate comment on this program, please let me know. As a reminder/clarification: I would still recommend TFA to almost anyone, and there is nary a doubt in my mind that at its core, it is an outstanding program. I’m just sayin’.

Now, for our DNS: What ever happened to Fruitopia??? That stuff was so good. I think it was probably less than zero percent real fruit juice, but it sure was tasty. And the bottles used such a cool font. They had Fruitopia machines in some of the lines at Worlds of Fun—I bet they’ve switched to Pepsi now (vom). Another flashback: Who remembers those ads for bottled water that went, “Hungry for life, thirsty for NAYA!” Those commercials were awesome. I miss certain beverages of the ‘90s.

Speaking of the ‘90s, an update on an earlier item: Gina says our generation is called “The Millennials,” while Pat Z. thinks we are Gen Y. The debate rages on…

Well, it’s Thursday afternoon and I don’t have much due tomorrow, so I think I might relax now. What a novel concept! I hope you all are doing well and still celebrating the Celtics' incredible victory.

Miss McCallie out.