Homeless
I’ve spent a lot of time lately thinking about family. Specifically my family, but really about all families. How different they are, and how, really, family doesn’t always have to mean “we.” It can be about the individuals, and goes beyond blood and marriage. If you aren’t willing to think of it in this way, you lose out on a lot. It was fitting, then, that I accompanied Gina on her routine visit to the Interfaith Rotating Winter Shelter in Davis.
The IRWS provides shelter and other basic needs to the local homeless population through a netword of faith-based congregations. Drawing on volunteers from all religious backgrounds, the organization rotates shelters from Church to Temple to Mosque throughout the winter months. More than just shelter, they are providing a family for their otherwise homeless (and oftentimes family-less) guests.
Gina has been working with the IRWS for two years now, and spends many winter nights camped out on a cot to monitor the shelter until morning. I was fortunate to tag along one night and took away some much-needed perspective about family.
I saw two things that night: people who were alone, but who were content. There were no homeless families stopping through – everyone was there alone. Maybe they had come before, but they all slept in their own sleeping bags, stretched out across a big gym, claiming the corners for themselves. My first instinct was to feel pity, to feel sad. Obviously not the place someone wants to be (especially on Christmas), the idea of coming to a church to sleep was just near depressing. But I resisted that inclination for long enough to see that these people, as unhealthy or unhappy as some of them likely were, were grateful. They had so very little, yet were kind, personable and shared in a strong sense of camaraderie. They were not expressing ideas of hate and bitterness. It was not a place devoid of family. It was, at least for that night, a family in and of itself. They came and left alone, but depended on each other while they were there. It’s that sense of willingness to be alone and together that struck a cord in me. Families are not just “we.” They are the people, sometimes alone and by themselves and sometimes together and depending on one another. If I can accept that, I’ll be ok.
Ingrid, my hero
This month crept up on me. I usually look at December as a slow time that goes by fast. With just 3 weeks in between Thanksgiving break and winter vacation, it’s not so hard getting up in the morning. But December has really been kicking my butt.
School has been hectic and loaded with paperwork. Being one of the only returning staff members from last year, I’ve taken it upon myself to take on a lot more responsibilities. I’m keeping our new principal up to speed when she is caught off guard by random things to do, and showing the new teachers how to navigate our often complicated computer and grading system. It’s been rewarding to see my hard work result in increased efficiency, but it’s tiring nonetheless.
In the midst of all this back and forth, I had a rare visit by a friend from Berkeley – a kind of calm in the middle of the storm.I’ve talked about Ingrid Seyer-Ochi before. She was the professor of the first education course I took in college, and ended up acting as a mentor as I explored my passions and decided on education as a career move. Everything I’m doing now can be traced back to her. So when she told me she was coming to Philly for a conference, I jumped on the opportunity to see her and catch up.
I told her about everything going on and she gave me some good advice: stay put in Philadelphia, but find an experienced teacher that can help me grow. It’s true that being on my own at school has its advantages – it can be reassuring to be a veteran in my second year, but it’s also a little lonely. As a teacher, how am I expected to grow and learn better practices if everyone around me is the same boat? We’re all 20-somethings with the drive to well, but without much of a professional model. Even our administration (who would like to think they’re doing that job) doesn’t have time for the kind of one-on-one support we need as teachers. By the end of our conversation, Ingrid had hooked me up with a professor at UPenn who can put me in touch with some experienced teachers in Philly. I’m not going to be a teacher for much longer, but I want to leave knowing I soaked up everything I could. This year will be finding a balance between being a good teacher and finding something to keep me interested and excited about going to work. It might mean taking on more administrative responsibilities, or fine-tuning my work as a teacher – or both. My meeting with Ingrid sure did get me thinking.
It’s funny how some people can make so much sense in so little time. Our breakfast conversation seemed to come at just the right time. I needed to know where I was heading, and now I feel like I have something to hold onto. And someone to lead me.
- Jeff
Thank(full)
Despite being away from family for the holiday, this past week has been a real delight. I was grateful to be in the company of two of my closest friends (my roommate Erika and fly-in friend Gina) and had the benefit of Skyping and talking to all of my family back home. Things aren’t the like they used to be, but what is, anyway?
Gina and I made a go of it and left a trail of menus in our wake. Our relationship (like so many of my relationships) is based on food and the joy that we derive from sharing a good meal and conversation. There’s really no better way to capture the week, so here’s a play-by-play of our edible Thanksgiving journey.
Gina got here late Tuesday night. After waiting for me at the airport for a bit (she thought I was picking her up, I thought she was cabbing it over), she figured it out and was at my doorstop by 8 PM. Within the hour, we were at Urban Saloon on Fairmont for a bite. To start things off, I ordered the Tater Tots with melted cheese, chives and bacon. Deadly combo that is literally irresistible. May look gross in print, but it’s delicious on a plate. Trust me. We split Crab Cake Sliders and chatted about everything and anything, from boyfriends to work drama and what ifs. By 10, I could have sworn I was back home.
It was Wednesday morning, and my school traded days off – Veteran’s Day for the day before Thanksgiving. The house was empty and I wanted breakfast. Thankfully, I had prepared for such an event. That morning’s menu had only one item: banana pancakes mixed with crushed cashews and topped with Nutella and dipping syrup on the side. Just the way to start a long day in the city.
Our first order of business was to apply for a PA driver’s license downtown. My CA card expired on my birthday, and to make a long story short (and less embarrassing) I needed to get a new one pronto. We hopped on our bikes and headed for the DMV. To my surprise, extremely efficient and fast. Within 45 minutes, they hole punched my CA license, took a new pic and delivered me a new plastic card. We could learn something here.
By the afternoon, we had grabbed Indian food at Reading Terminal and toured the Philadelphia Fabric Workshop & Museum. The museum was a random discovery but ended up being a highlight of the day – really interesting art and a great venue. Look it up and check out the felt cave installation (literally a small cave made of felt…with stalagmites and all).
Thursday was the big day – Thanksgiving was here. Erika and I had already gathered all the ingredients to make the goodies, so it was just a matter of time. Hanging out on the couch, half-watching Home Alone, we managed to pull it off. I was in charge of the stuffing (family recipe), Gina took care of the potatoes and Erika did everything else (good job, Erika). It was a meal for 10, and there were only 3 of us – but we’ll have leftovers for a while now. I just made a black bean turkey burrito for dinner.
It was a Friday night and we somehow found ourselves in a hip noodle bar in Manhattan. We weren’t planning on it, but Gina’s boyfriend Thomas had worked here during his stint in New York and slipped a gift card in her luggage for the restaurant. Thanks to Thomas (thanks, Thomas), we picked through the impressive menu and filled up. The restaurant chain also includes a “milk bar” aka dessert shop, so we stopped by on our way out. I tried their marshmallow chocolate chip corn flak cookie and old fashioned donut soft serve ice cream and just about melted. A bit too sweet, but damn good.
But we didn’t go just for the food – we also managed to eBay some cheap orchestra tickets to one of my favorite bands of all time: Guster. They were playing two nights in New York from their most popular album “Lost & Gone Forever,’ and we spent the rest of the night signing and dancing. Most everyone else just stood there. Made us feel special.
The weekend was already here, and we started to feel the distance creeping up. Gina had just one more meal on her wish list: Edamame Ravioli from Buddakan. I’ve posted about the ravioli’s before and named them one of my favorite things in 2008. I still love them and am determined to make them at home one day. All in all, a perfect ending to a perfect week.
Gina left this morning, albeit a bit late. We slept through the alarm and she missed her flight. She somehow managed to get on the next flight (just an hour later) and arrived home safe and sound. And full.
- Jeff
Living
It’s not so much that I’ve been busy lately as it is that I’ve been living lately. Until I get the inspiration, an update:
Things at school are unspeakably superb. I wake up every morning excited to go to school, and I spend the day with kids that treat me with respect and want to learn. I’m in a parallel universe at a public school where teachers teach and kids learn. Some credit is due to the simple fact that the second time around really does make all the difference. I’ve come to grips with the fact that nothing is perfect, and that not every kid will love me. It’s also true, though, that some things are perfect, and some kids will love me. More than that, I now have the wherewithal and time to do all the things I never could last year. I’m tracking student data like a master and planning some killer lessons. It makes me feel like I’m finally learning how to be the teacher I should have been all along. But tis’ the learning curve. I’m over the hump, and it feels amazing.
Things at home are a bit more complicated. I just found out that my boyfriend of 3 years is moving back to California from his job in NY. That means less face time with a special guy that makes my face pretty happy. It also might mean I get to go home more often to see him. And any time spent in CA is time well spent. I won’t be going home for Thanksgiving (too expensive before Christmas) but I will be seeing Gina, who has made coming to Philly for Thanksgiving something of a tradition. We’ll probably make dinner here at home with Erika and feed the homeless in our spare time. Gina is currently working on her sainthood, so we had to fit that in somewhere.
My family is spread all over the place and I miss them terribly. Halloween is my mom’s birthday, and with such fond memories from childhood I couldn’t help but get sentimental this past weekend. Where was the pizza? Honan’s laugh? Uncle Chris’ ridiculous politics? The late night games and birthday cake? All memories that warm my heart, but in some ways leave it a bit cold these days. Being an adult on your own can have its advantages, but I’m learning it can be harder than it looked back then…when being an adult seemed like so much fun.
Halloween, 1988
- Jeff
Fall
I realize not every kid dreams about visiting the Northeast in the fall, but not every kid’s mom is obsessed with landscapes. Whether it’s a sunset or a flower, my mom can literally take hundreds of pictures of the most simple things in nature. To me, I see the same thing over and over and over again. To her, the beauty can’t be captured in one frame. I grew up with a hyper-awareness about foliage and the seasons. She even convinced my entire family (me excluded) to get their “colors” done. It was all the rage in the late 90′s – someone uses your complexion, hair color and facial features to determine which “season” you are and thereby which colors you should wear to accentuate your true beauty. Apparently I’m a summer.
This all led me to Vermont this past weekend to take a look at the seasons change for myself. The Northeast is particularly well known for the transition from summer to fall, when the leaves slowly morph from green to brights shades of yellow, orange and red. The landscape, when taken in from a distance, can look awe inspiring. I went expecting to be blown away. In the end, I wasn’t so much shocked by the color as I was comforted by the overwhelming feeling of fall.
Undeniably, part of that comfort came from the company. I went with Andrew and a few of his friends from college. They were fantastic fellow tourists and made the trip a blast. We spent most of our time together in the car (the drive is about 6 hours north of NYC), but there wasn’t a moment I felt bored. Our goal was to take part in as many fall activities as possible. This included a jaunt in an apple orchard, completing a corn maze at night, touring the Ben & Jerry’s factory outside Burlington and trying fresh apple cider. Not everything we attempted was a success. The corn maze had closed an hour before we got there, and breaking and entering wasn’t on our originally itinerary, so we skipped it.
The apple orchard was probably the most fun I’ve had in an open field in a while. There were so many apples! Everywhere! On the ground, in the trees – it was an apple fantasy land. We got these long claw baskets (like apple lacrosse) that we used to fish the apples from their branches. We managed to fill up a few bags to take home and Erika is planning to make apple pie this week. Also, don’t underestimate the satisfying feeling of crushing an apple with your foot. I dare you to try it outside on the sidewalk. Just lay an apply on crush it – kind of like the sensation people get form popping air bubbles.
Some highlights…
- Jeff
Thing #2 to do in Elk Grove
Leg wresting can only get you so far. A few rounds and you’re done. There’s still a lot of time to fill, and thankfully Elk Grove has its share of oddities. The recently developed Elk Grove Sports Center is just the kind of place I’m talking about. Housed in an old JVC factory behind the Apple building, it offers folks some strange “sport” experiences, so I decided to head over to check it out.
Turns out jumping is the new roller skating. Dream Extreme is basically an empty warehouse with quirky sports simulations, including a trampoline room and wave machine. At $25 an hour, I didn’t feel compelled to run home and grab my suit, but at $10 for an all-day pass, the trampoline room looked mighty fine. Fast forward 2 hours and there I was – sweaty, tired and unable to walk straight on concrete. I took my little cousin Cole and tried teaching him some moves from back in the day. My family had our own circular trampoline growing up, so I was 
quite the expert back then – unfortunately, much of that flexibility and nerve is gone now. There was no way I was attempting to flip, so I settled for crack the egg. Remember crack the egg? It’s just when someone balls up in the fetal position and you jump around them until they can’t hold it any longer. Pretty amateur stuff, but we still had a lot of fun.
Even more fun that just jumping around on your own, ever hour or so the room turns into a game of dodge ball. Some of those kids were viscous.
I’ve got to admit it – this was really cool. So, Elk Grove still has something to offer the younger crowd, but trampolines and wave machines can only get you so far. Off to find the next thing to do.
- Jeff
Thing #1 to do in Elk Grove
Coming home has been bitter-sweet. Seeing my family and friends has been, without a doubt, absolutely joyful. Being in Elk Grove, though, not always the most fun. Suburbia poses some unique challenges to the 20-something looking for something to do. Thankfully, I’ve got some resourceful friends who know how to have a good time. In this quest for things to do, I decided to make a blog series highlighting how to have fun in the mundane – wherever you are. But since we’re in Elk Grove, let’s work with what we’ve got. And since there’s not much here, this first thing to do requires little more than a partner.
I had never heard of leg wrestling before, but apparently there’s a whole culture surrounding leg wrestling, and, of course, I’m the last to know. It wasn’t until my friends in Georgetown started challenging each other that I learned what it was. In short, imagine arm wrestling with your legs. Two people lay with their back on the floor, and hips at each other’s shoulders. You raise your adjacent legs and count to three. From the start, you need to really overpower your opponent. The goal is to flip them over by pushing their leg over.
Here’s a video of my friends leg wrestling in a bar:
I’ve played a couple times, and I’ve won a couple times. I recommend bringing it up at a party or just whenever you’re bored with friends. Make a bracket and turn into a quick and fun tournament – see who can make it to the championship. Be warned, though: make enough room so you don’t hit anything (or anyone), stretch before you give it a go, and take your shoes off for goodness sake. I can tell you from experience it’s a bad idea. Otherwise, have fun.
- Jeff
Vacancy
The new house is bigger, but it also means we need to find a fourth roommate. It hasn’t been as easy as we anticipated, so we’re getting a little desperate. I’ve taken out an ad on Craigslist and we’ve posted fliers in the TFA dorms this summer. All in all, we need to spread the word. Please pass this info onto anyone you might know that is looking for a place in Philly.
Thanks!
- Jeff
Movin’ on up
Come August, this will be my new house (note: not apartment)
Erika arrived in Philadelphia this past week as she starts her own work at TFA Institute this week. I went back to Philly for the weekend to welcome her and take a look for a new place to live next year. Lucky us, we found this gem in Art Museum that expands our living space tenfold and gives me reason to redecorate. Many pictures to come. For now, though, I’m back in DC. And waiting for California. August can wait.
- Jeff
7
After living in dorms for this past summer for teacher training, I was eager to move out into a real house with a real bed in Philadelphia. Since I only had a few weeks to make the move, the transition from institute to real-life was quick. My original roommate Jenna and I looked at a few places, but nothing struck our fancy at first. Finally, we found 808 S. 5th – a perfect little apartment, except for one little problem - there were 3, not 2, bedrooms. We needed to find a third roommate, but as I soon discovered, that was the least of our problems. Leaving the apartment, Jenna started crying – the frantic, heaving crying that indicates something is seriously wrong. It turned out that Jenna decided not to follow through with TFA and instead returned home to Minnesota to her old teaching job with the kids she missed terribly. It made a lot of sense for her, and I’m glad she followed her heart. Actually, quite a few people ended up leaving TFA during the summer – I think they just realized it wasn’t where they were supposed to be. And for Jenna, it was pretty obvious where she needed to be. It wasn’t at 808 S. 5th.
This was all good and nice, but I still needed a place to live. I ran back to the dorms, grabbed my checkbook and called my next closest friend – Becca. Thankfully, she still needed a place to live, and a third roommate was soon to follow. Within an hour, I had secured an apartment and two roommates. And a friend in Minnesota.
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