Carnival

I got to wear my long sleeved spirit shirt today instead of the short sleeved one. It's such a gorgeous, sunny, cool day.

We had fall fair today at school. This is like a "Halloween carnival." About 45% of the kids came to school in costume and at the end of the day (the last hour and half) the kids got to walk around to all the different "booths" and buy food or do things. Most of all, they get to not do schoolwork, and they have that creepy crazy excitement of being at school and wandering around but not doing normal school things.

The strange thing is that it's so freaking contagious. I was, of course, serious all day, and I told each class that I didn't care what day it was and that we were going to continue to have normal class time. Plus we're reading Night right now (Holocaust memoir) so it's not appropriate to have anything other than regular class time. They were all wonderfully behaved and I get chills sometimes during discussion because they're getting really into the book and they're passionately discussing the injustices of the events. Sometimes I want to hug them all for having sophisticated hearts. I certainly didn't feel that way last year.


But I got a candy bar out of the vending machine after lunch today because it felt like such a free-for-all. And I couldn't focus on grading during my planning period. And then I stood around and skipped my duty during fall fair because it felt like such a slack off time. And then I ate lo mein and a frito pie.

I was watching the kids run around and I was thinking about those days in middle in high school that had this same feeling. It reminded me of eighth grade when we had the same kind of fair and there was such a buzz in the air--the biggest thrill of it was that we could interact with anyone in any of our classes without the constraint of schedules. Not that I was a social butterfly in the least--more like a shy moth that can only be with a few other moths at a time. But I have this one particular memory of getting flirted with by the boy I was infatuated with.

To begin with, I wasn't on the dating circuit. There were a handful of girls (who I was friends with) that had made it clear to a certain circle of boys (that was like our designated boy group to be friends with) that they were fun and ready to be dated. I was more of a "hang back in social situations while your friends squeal and stick their chests out but instead crack jokes with your crush in class" type of girl. And I wasn't even about to think about making the first move, which looking back is obviously why I didn't get dates, but I thought at the time that I must be a boring nerd or a hideous troll. Anyway, there was this boy that was in the group of soccer boys who we were technically supposed to like--they were the obvious boys to like--who I thought was beautiful and playful like a puppy. He sat in front of me in English and would turn sideways in his desk and talk to me. He was always dating this other girl, so it was hard to keep the fantasy alive that he was interested in me, but I liked him anyway. I can remember this buzz in the air during the carnival. It's a heady combination of gratuitous freedom and sexual tension. This boy ran up to me and grabbed my arm to play-argue with me to come to whatever "booth" he was working. I fought back against him to play along. I think he may have even wrapped him arms around me to play-drag me. The little game probably only lasted about ten seconds, but I remember it being just about the most exciting thing, and it colored the whole rest of the day with this feeling of indulgent mayhem. I remember thinking that he surely couldn't be flirting with me because he had a girlfriend. I was always shocked anytime anyone acted like they were attracted to me--my crush, no less.

When it was time for the eighth grade dance, everyone was pairing off and getting dates (or most of my friends were). Even my friends who didn't already have boyfriends were finding people to pair off with. I didn't get asked. My mom took me to 5-7-9 to buy a dress. My favorite color at the time was baby blue, and I got this little tank dress with a sheer, cloud-looking baby blue shrug to wear with it. It was one of those outfits that didn't exactly make me feel specifically pretty, or hot, but it felt like it was made for me. Like it was expressive of something in me.
When a slow song came on at the dance, I got a sinking feeling. (I had, of course, been shakin' it to the fast dances with my friends.) I went to stand on the side, outside the 3-point line of the basketball court. Looking back, I can say with confidence that it is one of the worst feelings to stand in a gym, in a dress that makes you feel all sexy and original, watching couples slow dance with each other. I found one of my friends who hadn't gotten a date because her and her boyfriend had just broken up and went to stand by her. Just then, my crush walked up with one of his friends that didn't have a date. In fact, my crush didn't have a date because his girlfriend dumped him right before the dance. They pointed at us, awkward and jokey, like "hey, the two of you wanna dance with the two of us?" And then I scored a dance with the guy I'd been infatuated with the whole year. Once of those weeble rock back and forth dances to some crappy R&B song. That, too, was an exciting free-for-all. A moment I stole because girls like me didn't really get those moments (so I thought).

So when I left school today, I had caught that bug that was in the air that was making the kids run around linking arms with each other. "Oo, I wonder if that guy's going to be at the party later tonight?" Just so you might be able to share a joke or even just stand in the same room as each other. Or the feeling of school letting out for summer, or forever, like senior year. When all that was left of high school was giddy social gatherings when people's parents would go out of town, passing around a jug of wine or a pipe, but mostly wondering if your crush is going to be at so-and-so's house so that you can have fun all evening just because you're standing in the same yard as he is.

My personal hell:

One digital alarm clock beeping continuously. Blenders. Educational Assessment Benchmarks. Sheet protectors. The blaring saxophone-only version of "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?"

I can now say I've been to hell and back. It was on Perkins next to Sonic. And all I have is this LaTAAP portfolio to show for it.

(But yessssss. It's done.)

Hey!

I know what I want: I want to make something.

I've been reviewing and communicating, instructing, inspiring, engaging, standing, watching, laughing, helping, reaching, writing, talking, listening, reading, lounging, disengaging, sleeping, eating, checking, walking, climbing stairs, cooking, chopping, waking up, cleaning, making messes, ironing, locking and unlocking, dressing and undressing, picking, typing, driving, singing, calling, and of course, blogging. But I haven't created anything. I need to compose something, or a lot of different things. Not in a desperate way, but something I'm acknowledging. I'm not going to go crazy if I don't. I'm just not quite being whole. I'm about three quarters, but kicking a decent amount of ass in those three quarters.

A really long story. A dance where I get to throw my body around. A piano riff. A painting. A dish. An outfit. A hairstyle. I get excited just thinking about it!

Instead, this afternoon, I watched an episode of Grey's Anatomy on Le Web (abc.com has full episodes that look WAY better than channel 2 with rabbit ears) while eating leftover stir fry, soup, and 5 "fun" size dark chocolate Mr. Goodbars and Krackles respectively. None of which I regret or feel guilty about because it was wonderful and I've earned it. Today there's nothing better than being alone in my house with the headphones and the lappy.

There's so much good music out right now that I'm also about to capsize on (if that's something one does). Feist, Ingrid Michaelson, PJ Harvey's "White Chalk" (yes m'am!), Andrew Bird, Arcade Fire, Blonde Redhead, Animal Collective. So much catching up to do (sparked by ACL). And I bought cheap copies of Ben Kweller's "On My Way" and Liz Phair's "Whitechocolatespaceegg." Still need to catch up on those. Yay!

Shout out to Ann: I was craving a listen of "On My Way" ever since I heard Kweller was on the list for ACL (though I didn't get a chance to see him). Funny thing though, I didn't like him all that much back in the day when you played him a lot (I remember him in the Prague dorm on your alarm clock CD thing), but I liked him okay. However, I wanted to own it and I've been listening to him in my car, and it's so catchy and simple. I like it. He sounds SO young, which is part of its charm and also a bit embarrassing. Like on "I Need You Back" (to take away all of my pain and then my feeeeaaarr). Kinda pathetic. Or all that stuff about "her life gives me power" and "she's so cool and I need her to be with me and make me cool too." Get a backbone, lil' Ben!

No, but his voice and his melodies are awesome. I wonder about his new stuff. Side note: reminds me of Neville Longbottom from Harry Potter. That turned into kind of a shout out to Jeanne.

Burninating the peasants

Two great things that happened today:

In seventh hour, there's this little girl who I wasn't sure about at first. She is a constant talker, she's goofy, she marches around doing little dances and singing, she asks ridiculously obvious questions, and she has a lot of friends in that class. I can tell she's a flirt and she's willing to make a fool of herself and get into trouble to be cool. I've heard other teachers complain about her "attitude" in the copy room. She got suspended a few weeks ago and came back a week later to tell me she was transferring schools. I get pretty concerned when they tell me this sometimes because this means they automatically switch to the public schools they're in zone for, which are usually too easy for them or just won't prepare them for a good college in general. When she left, she said bye to all of her friends in the class and I followed her out into the hall, hugged her, and told her in as positive a voice as I could muster that she should consider coming back next year. It was sort of an awkward little hug because we had no previous connection and I was forcing it just to make the point that she was wanted here.

Generally, I have some conflicting feelings when I find out a child is transferring. Part of me worries about their futures and is saddened at the thought that I'll probably never see them again. But part of me sighs with relief at one less paper to grade, one less student to worry over. Usually, it's a kid that's either failing or has already missed a bunch of school, so it means I won't have to keep up with all of their makeup papers anymore. This child had missed half her unit test and I had given her an "I" for incomplete on her progress report.

For some reason, she was back a week later, grinning with her glinting braces and huge hoop earrings, and had decided not to transfer. I tried to sound glad, and for the long term I was, but I immediately thought: unit test makeup and catch her up on everything we've been doing for a week and a half. Goddamn.

So today, seventh hour, with end-of-the-day-brain-fog and trying to beat the clock in a 50 minute period, I was passing out papers and setting up the ELMO with the test key so we could go over their essays questions, and this kid blurted "Miss Willis--"

"Yes m'am?"

"You're a good teacher." In a small voice.

I was so caught off guard that I laughed. The other kids laughed uncomfortably, too. I said, "Thanks, T___....that--actually makes my day" in a pretty dry voice. My immediate response was to make a smart ass comment because I assumed she was "trying to get on my good side" or something, or because I was uncomfortable and I didn't want everyone to see that this is the type of comment that could make me cry on the spot, but I resisted enough to try to show her that I really appreciated it. I could tell she meant it and that she said it for no reason.

I don't even think I was teaching anything at that moment. But it was like a shot of energy for the rest of the class period for me.

The other great thing was that two of my former students (one goofy little soccer boy and one tall long-haired musician kid) came by after school to shoot the shit and musician kid started drawing on the board. I was talking to Bridgette, who was fixing my Accelerated Writer scanner, and I called over my shoulder, "Whatever you're drawing is about to be erased." When he moved away, I saw that it was Trogdor. I said "Oh! Trogdor!" Soccer boy gasped. "She knows" they said. They asked if I'd seen the video and I said of course, I'm a huge Homestar fan.

I didn't erase it.

There were some not-great moments today, but why bother with that.