The plan
Since it’s summer and I won’t be telling crazy stories from school as often (but don’t fret – there’s still room for some good ol’ flashbacks), I need to come up with a fun way to share my summer adventures. And I have.
I’ll be posting a photo a day from something I did or saw or experienced using my trusty iPhone camera. Sometimes it’ll be funny or weird or sad or probably confusing. But it will be a good way to chronicle my summer days and maybe entertain you. Then, about once a week, I’ll post a narrative about something cool, an update on my projects, or a reflection on the year passed. Should be fun, and certainly won’t get boring.
Enjoy!
- Jeff
Dina for America
Calling all TFA 08 corps members:
If you love Dina Portnoy, go here to donate, leave a testimonial or learn more about an amazing woman.
She deserves a little pat on the back.
- Jeff
Be like me
I’ve been failing at male relationships my whole life. And what I mean by that is…I’ve never really been able to connect with other men in the same way I connect with women. Ever since I was a kid, I preferred my female friends. I was doing flips on the playground bars and made breakfast in bed for my sister’s friends when they had sleep overs. On the weekends, I made sure I got to go shopping at Ross with my mom when my dad was doing yard work. Women became my go-to, and somewhere in the mix, my ability to bond with men was weakened. The few male friends I had in school either turned out to be gay or are out of touch. And still today, I find my relationships with women far outnumber and outflank those with men.
And so it was a challenge when I decided to take up the task of leading my school’s boys mentoring group, Boys II Men. I’ve documented this before when we made our first visit to the local jail. Since then, we’ve collected toys for families during the holiday and volunteered at a church. This month, I wanted something tangible for them to walk away about a topic I know many of them have encountered (or will) in their own lives: domestic violence. I found a local organization that does outreach in the public schools and set up a workshop for the boys after school. A month in the making, the workshop took place this afternoon.
Within the first 10 minutes, I was back in my place – awkwardly trying to feel them out as they were creating ruckus in my room. The guest had arrived, and none of the boys were listening to my pleas to sit down and get settled. Not being quiet, I knew they had heard me. I knew they were ignoring me. In that moment, it felt like the wind was knocked out of me – I needed to catch my breathe. At the surface, I was just plain frustrated with the situation at hand. But deep down, I was being reminded (in a very explicit way) of my own insecurities. I feel trapped between doing what feels right, and altering my approach to fit their idea of masculinity and authority. If there was a class about how to be a male role model, I’d consider paying a hefty fee. While I acknowledge the fact that you can’t learn this stuff, I still feel like I need some help understanding where I fit into all this. Because, right now, I feel like that last puzzle piece that fell under the couch – obviously important but just not in the right place.
Most of these boys just don’t respect me as a male role model. Their actions show a complete disregard for my intentions and are an assault on my alternative approach to discipline and relationships. They view me as weak, emotional and – ultimately – irrelevant. I’m not like their fathers or their cousins or their neighbors. And I’m certainly not like some of the other men I work with – who have my student’s instant respect upon entering the room. Unlike them, I have a quieter voice, a less aggressive demeanor, am far more patient and understanding, and have lighter skin. I am a foreigner. When it comes down to it, I don’t think too many of these young boys want to be like me. And that’s kind of a hard pill to swallow.
- Jeff
P.S. I really don’t need a slew of reassuring comments to follow – just had to get this off my mind.
Home, again
I’m back in Philadelphia – and without a doubt I feel like I’m back home. It’s strange living in such a different city, so far away from where I’ve spent most of my life. In some ways, Philadelphia will never feel familiar enough to be home. But because of its newness, it’s become all my own. The streets, the parks, the people – no one back in California knows about any of it. So when I come back here, it feels special. My own little world. And in that way, it kind of feels like home.
My recent Philadelphia homecoming got me to thinking about the labels we attach to the places we live.
I often refer to Sacramento as my home-home – double hyphened to emphasize the fact that this is my native home. The singular home then becomes practically anywhere else. I’ve caught myself many times on vacation calling my hotel room my home. “I’m getting tired of walking around, let’s go home.” It’s funny, since I usually think of home as having an elevated meaning to me. I suppose we are creatures of basic necessity. All we really need to survive is a shelter and food. Everything else – the streets, the parks, the people – it’s all just extra. And I suppose that’s the difference right there. You can find a home anywhere you go (which is kind of reassuring), but you’ve got to find those special touches to make it home.
Philadelphia is home. Sacramento is home. I should just drop the hyphen and thank my lucky stars I’ve got two.
I got a pedicure
It was Erika’s birthday yesterday (Happy Birthday, Erika!) and we went to get our feet done. I’ve never had a real pedicure before – my mom doesn’t count, right? It was a great experience, although a bit pricey. There were definitely a few moments I just couldn’t handle and had to pull my foot away. She kind of seemed annoyed, but c’mon it tickled. In the end, my feet and toes are looking great – sans nail polish, but polished just enough.
The real treat were the pedicure chairs themselves. They are monsters – shooting warm water on your feet, massaging your back and their sheer size make you feel a little high-and-mighty. I was curious how much they cost and found they start around $5,000 – meaning they’ll be paid off 200 pedicures later. Not bad, I suppose. I won’t run out to get one anytime soon, but I won’t be waiting to visit again until Erika’s birthday next year. January birthday anyone?
Wordle
Who ever thought words could be so beautiful? Wordle did.
Wordle is an online program that takes any text (a quote, a passage, a blog) and counts the number of times each word is used. Based on those calculations, it changes the text size of words, making the more common words larger and other small. The result is a ‘word cloud’ that can transform a heavy text and makes it readable and somewhat more transparent.
Once you start playing with it, you won’t stop. As a teacher, it’s also a great tool for teaching. I was recently covering the interactions between the colonists and Native Americans, and used a quote from a Wintu tribe woman about how the white colonists were destroying the earth. We plugged the quote into Wordle and this is what we got:
Then we used the strategy of making a word map sentence using the largest to smaller words. Applying that approach, you get “White man (or people) kill trees.” It’s just a simplified version of the more complex analysis we applied before the word map was made. In the end – a great way to look for multiple (or main) themes in a quote or passage.
But beyond teaching, Wordle is just kind of fun. Try it with your thesis, favorite blog, or an article or speech. Just for kicks, here’s a word map from my current RSS feed for Jeff For America.
And if you make word map sentence, you can get: a lot actually happened.
That works.
- Jeff
I have a problem
It doesn’t matter if you’ve known me for years or just days, you’ll know one thing for sure – I
have a problem losing things. It started out kind of innocent in my early teens. I’d leave my homework at home, my phone in the car. Sometimes I even ran out of gas (ok…so it happened 6 times). When I went off to college, I thought things would get better. They didn’t. I put a sign at my dorm door that said “Wallet? Keys? Phone?” to remind me of my belongings every time I left the room. It helped, but it wasn’t a cure.
As the years have gone on, and I have matured into all the responsibilities of an adult, I have yet to shed my inability to keep track of my things. Just this week, I’ve forgotten or lost the following:
- My toothbrush and scarf at Andrew’s apt in NYC
- My phone, keys and wallet in the desk at work
- My jacket at an event last night for TFA
If you have followed me on the blog in recent months, you’ll also know I left my bags on a train, my phone in a taxi cab and lost my debit card on a street corner. If you’ve known me for years, you’ll also know I once left my computer on an airplane in South Africa and my iPod on a Southwest trip to L.A. In Berkeley, I once even forgot to move my car from a parking spot and walked home from campus instead. Two days later, as I walked out to get my car, and remembered I had driven it to school. Two tickets on my windshield - you would think I’ve learned my lesson.
All these shenanigans lately got me thinking…maybe there’s something wrong with me. Like, really something wrong – a disorder of some sort. I looked it up online and could only find it as a major symptom of ADHD, which is possible I guess, but not the red herring I was looking for.
In reflecting on how to self-medicate my self-inflicted, imaginary disorder, I have decided to cut out the middle man (or woman) and start a log of my forgetfulness. I figure any good psychologist I could pay to hear my worries would give me that advice. Perhaps keeping track of my losing track will trigger something in my mind that will slow me down and keep things in better order. If you have a better idea, send it my way.
I just can’t live like this anymore. It’s getting out of hand. Help.
- Jeff
2
Ok, I’m just gonna say it – I’m tired of this. It’s gotten old real quick and I can’t wait for this week and school to be over. Two days left and I’ll be happy to be moving on. In fact, I need it more than anything right now. I’m sick, I’m exhausted and I’m still at school. We have our last report card conferences this week, so I’m at school until 8 o’clock tonight. Becca and I are considering making a move this summer to a new place, but aren’t willing to trade-down just for price. It has been harder than expected. My usual cragistlist charm isn’t working. Anyway, Becca and I went to see a house tonight, but as we were driving (30 minutes in traffic) to the walk-through, the realtor called and cancelled. The house had just been rented. I was pissed and just wanted to go home and fall asleep. But no – I had to turn the car around and drive 45 minutes back to school. I’m trying to capture this moment so I can look back on my miserable day and smile. “Poor Jeff,” I’ll think to myself, “Get over it. Things worked out anyway.” They always do.
- Jeff
3
I’m enrolled in a masters degree program with Teach for America at UPenn and take classes once a week and one weekend per month. It’s a good program with some flaws but I mostly enjoy my professors and course work. Although it can be overwhelming to write a paper and plan for school, I managed to find a balance by the end of the year. Next semester will be easier. I actually just finished my last class for the first year last night – Education Law. I loved every minute of it (except when I didn’t) and it really got me to thinking about law school or working with something related to constitutional law and education. I just love applying legal concepts to different scenarios. I have developed a strong affinity for that type of thinking. Not sure if it would serve me well in law school, but I have at least found an interst consistent with my experiences. All of my classes were not as engaging, but they all served some purpose in preparing me for this first year of teaching.
The other week I finally got the tuition figures for the two-year program and decided to break down the cost for each class meeting. That was a mistake. The program costs about $38,000 over the two years, and each class meeting costs approximately $350. That means every week I’m paying $350 – $1000 for my masters. Put in those terms, it is just an insane proposition. Absolutely insane. I’ve been saving most of my income, so it should be paid off by next May. That means, though, that I won’t have much savings either. A trade off I’m willing to make.
By the end of next year, though, I will have my teaching certification and an M.S. from UPenn, which isn’t such a bad deal. I guess I’m just used to being at public schools, so this sudden hike in money for school is a bit bewildering. Makes me want to go to law school at another UC. Boalt Law is sounding real nice right about now. But that’s all to consider for another day.
- Jeff
100th
Welcome! This is my 100th post on Jeff For America. I felt compelled to reflect, especially since this is that time of the year for me. I always get really reflective at the end of a school year. Sometimes I wonder what will happen to me when I stop being a student or teacher and my year cycles in January. I think I’ll just have to get over the inclination to make slideshows and write thank you notes to people in June.
Anyway, I’m getting off topic again. About a year ago, I started this blog without many expectations – I wanted to share my new life in Philadelphia with my family back home, and I needed to have some record of my first year of teaching. For a while there, my sharing was limited to short, infrequent posts about large chunks of time. During the summer, I found myself relying on lengthy posts about an entire month. I realized, though, that this blog would serve neither purpose if I didn’t make it accessible and at least somewhat interesting to read. I also realized that there were other people out there who might benefit from a little encouragement and who could empathize with my own experiences in the classroom. What started as a small, closed community has grown into something more meaningful to more people than I expected.
Over the last year, Jeff For America has been visited nearly 8,000 times by hundreds of unique visitors. On a busy day, the site can register over 100 views and during my most frequented month (Feb 09) I had nearly 1,300 hits.
The numbers themselves don’t mean much, but it does encourage me to continue sharing. From my close friends and family abroad or in California, to my fellow teachers in Philly and to the random visitors that send me messages of encouragement – Thank you! I have enjoyed sharing my life and the experiences of my students with you over the last 100 posts.
Many more to come!
- Jeff
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