From "Classroom Distinctions" by Tom Moore, a 10th-grade history teacher at a public school in the Bronx, in the January 19th New York Times:

"Films like “Freedom Writers” portray teachers more as missionaries than professionals, eager to give up their lives and comfort for the benefit of others, without need of compensation. Ms. Gruwell sacrifices money, time and even her marriage for her job.

Her behavior is not represented as obsessive or self-destructive, but driven — necessary, even. She is forced into making these sacrifices by the aggressive neglect of the school’s administrators, who won’t even let her take books from the bookroom. The film applauds Ms. Gruwell’s dedication, but also implies that she has no other choice. In order to be a good teacher, she has to be a hero."

There is a pervasive feeling in my school: it is that we are each fighting our own battle against the educational system, against the socioeconomic class of our students, against their parents, and against the restrictions put upon teachers by the Union. There are so many forces pulling us, hours of testing being the most depressing and oppressive, that we are forced to assume one of two personas: the hyper-positive, sunshiny optimist (who goes home and cries once a week from the bottled-up stress) or the bitter cynic, who spreads any and all gossip heard in the staff lounge, scrounging for bits of excitement in an environment seemingly steeped in disappointment.

I am concerned. I'm worried that in the school I'm in, staying a sunshiny optimist will be another upwhill battle, and definitely one that more and more of my colleagues seem to abandon every day. The problem is that this is more than a career. While all of the stressors of the job grind us up, we look down on these little, expectant faces gazing up at us. For every student I've seen slam another into a lock, say a racial slur, or show academic apathy already in the 2nd grade, there are others who just hope to learn, even some who feel the pressure to lift up their family through their education. So the fight against the system isn't just my fight to win, lose, or give up on; it's theirs as well. And so part of my job is to fight the system that surrounds and manipulates me as their advocate and voice. I know that most people face that crisis in their work as well, but the maternal instincts that I feel towards my students are starting to pull me apart. How can I force a student who speaks no English to take 20 combined hours of proficiency tests this Spring? How can I stand next to them as they cry and just tell them to keep clicking the mouse to keep the exam going? My hope is further diminished in the knowledge that my situation is much, much better than many. My anger at this system is momentarily silenced, because who am I to complain?

This is my conclusion: I will resolve to use my vote for education reform. I will choose an educational policy that does not assume the that teachers are mindless, lazy, and routinized...that ideology simply weeds out those that are optimistic; the bitter are much more difficult to discourage since their priority is no longer the children; it shifted long ago to self-preservation. I will choose a policy that recognizes that the 7 hours students spend in school cannot teach them anything if they are deprived of any stimulation at home. If they are hungry, scared, lonely, or if they are indoctrinated with a gang mentality or taught to steal, these forces are more powerful than free breakfasts and fun after-school activities. If parents reprimand their children with violent force or emotional manipulation, the child will not be able to follow our state-approved "choice"-based behaivor management technique. I will choose a policy that compensates teachers for their hours and money the way that most professions do. I will choose a policy that rewards teachers based on merit, not seniority established by simply showing up and following protocol. If the government would finally appreciate that the crimes of tomorrow are defined by the education that the potential perpetrators are receiving today, maybe they will make teaching less like mission work, less a heroric endeavor with the rewards garnered by lifting up children, the act of which is still a fight against the system itself.

If the next election appeared to be headed in the direction of previous campaigning seasons, with a democrat and a republican adhering to the status quo to gain approval, I would have probably have given up. But there seems to be something happening in our society today that is receiving much less attention than it deserves: Americans representing groups who haven't had their voice heard as loudly, as profoundly in our culture, are standing up and running for president. Their campaigns are serious and powerful. In two years, our country could have an African-American leader, a female leader, or a Latino leader. When in history has their been such proof of the advancement of the American ideal? Fifty years ago, Martin Luther King, Jr. was marching, women were just starting to be appreciated at a national level outside of the kitchen, and Latinos were struggling for their rights out of the national spotlight. That we have gotten to this place, gives me so much hope. Maybe soon, the US will be able to focus on our crucial assets in need of protection here in on our own soil.

My life has been so busy lately...
Favorites:
*The Caramel Applepie shake at the Tea Garden...today, tomorrow, forever! It's delicious and bizarre at the same time, like all of my favorite food:)
*"Starlight" by Muse. I love this song so much. I miss empathetic British music. Why did Keane have to be so Pete Doherty?
*Forever 21. I bought a dark blue hoodie with heart buttons that feels like pajamas today.
*Lake Calhoun. A perfect place for snowangels, especially if you take someone down with you.
*Thinking about the future. It's scary, and I'm not sure how I'm going to afford it, but it's nice to know that it's out there and full of potential.
*Team friendship. And the main room.
*"Don't Stop Believing" by Journey. Someday I'm going to take a midnight train going anywhere...hopefully someplace warm!
*Zip-up winter boots.
*Finding my car keys!!

I spent the entire weekend crying and worrying. One of my friends was broken up with in the worst, most emotionally painful way that I've ever heard, and the situation still gives me chills. While frightening in its method and precision, this event has taught me two things:

1. The easiest way to deal with people who are hurting you, whether it be avoidance, ignorance, or a complete breakdown of a relationship, is often the one that causes the most pain to the other person. Last night I apologized to a past roommate for doing that to her. That was a horrible situation to live in, with so much yelling, anger, manipulation, and tension, all escalating gradually, so I never saw it coming. I have a sense of uncultivated empathy that is physically painful, and I absorbed all of her fears about others. By the end of the year, I was on edge at all times, feeling like everyone hated me, desperately clinging to anything positive in my life. Right before final exams, I was offered a place to move by a friend who saw how miserable I'd become. For many reasons, all relating to my personal well being, I chose to tell my roommate that I was moving out right before she went on a trip. I felt very guilty and always have, so now I've finally apologized. The move was the best thing for me, and the decision made my life so much better for those last months leading up to graduation, but it was still a bad decision. It was still hurting someone who had obvious issues, throwing my pain onto someone who already had enough.

2. My friends are deeply caring people. I'm so proud of how we've come together to support our friend. Gooooooo friendship!

Best New Year's Eve (yet)
Usually, this holiday is an afterthought which I spend at home, watching the New Year's Rockin Eve with resentment. But this year, because I dually wanted to have one holiday to prepare for and needed a reason to finally unpack and clean my entire apartment, I planned to have a party and then go dancing with my friends. It was so much fun:) My little appetizer party was exactly what I wanted- an hour and a half of laughing, drinking fancy layered drinks (which my brother named a "ball drop"), and checking out my new apartment. It was lovely. Then most of us went to First Avenue to go dancing...our favorite DJ was (um, I don't know, spinning?) that night, DJ SovietPanda. There was a balloon drop at midnight, and while I didn't get kissed, it was still an amazing night:)