If I can be patient in a Bahraini police station, Americans should learn to be patient at the DMV

So I had another Bahraini first last night…a car accident.  Before you all start saying things about women drivers I was rear ended.  I was stopped for a few seconds when it happened, so it wasn’t like I stopped abruptly either.  I actually didn’t know what happened because I haven’t been hit in over 11 years (and just so we put it out there, I haven’t hit anyone in over 11 years).  The title of the post is from a conversation with Camille this morning...here is the story:

I get hit with Camille, Ezza and Stu in the car at 7:45 on Thursday night.  Ezza, being awesome, was the first to ask if everyone was ok.  Being the North Americans we are, Camille grabbed the insurance and took pictures of my car and his license plate.  Stu, being the only guy in the car, got out to be the muscle (which I especially love because I've got a good 3 inches and 15 pounds on him).  I told Ez to stay in because I was scared my car would lock if we closed all the doors.  The guy was super helpful, the police were not.  I first called 999 (the 911 of Bahrain.)  They hung up on me twice and I got a busy signal once before someone who did not know English answered.  He passed me off to someone else, who told me to call the traffic cops at 199.  Whoops.  (NOTE: Bayan needs to give us a cheat sheet of this stuff, we had an emergency earlier this year with two Americans who did not know it was 999 not 911-I only knew because of my time in London, otherwise I would have no idea).  

So I call the traffic cops who ask if we can move the cars and of course we can, it was a very minor accident.  So we have to drive to the police station.  Well, thank goodness for honest people because who says this kid who hit me couldn’t have driven off in the other direction.  Instead he let me follow him.  We picked up his Dad on the way (I thought he was my age at first but the more time I spent with him and his father over the night, the guy who hit me was a kid, 18, 21 at most.)  When we get to the station the Dad asks if we could just settle it.  In the states I would have said yes (I drive a crappy car that has scratches-not from me-so I would not have fixed it on this car) but here I needed the police report so I did not have to pay the rental company.  I told him how much it was for the rental company (250BD, almost $700) and that was ridiculous for such a small dent.  I had also already called my rental car company (I love them by the way-Adliya Rental Car is a good company-owned by a parent of a student).  So he then asked if we could say he was driving because his son just got his license.  Since I did not have a Bahraini license and was about to plead ignorance if they asked for mine, I didn’t see any harm in it.  So we walked into the station….

Did I mention we were all ready to go out for the night so we were all looking really cute and fairly fancy?  Yeah, let’s just say that we stood out like a sore thumb in the traffic station.  It was a serious game of “one of these things is not like the other”.  Well, immediately three guys on a couch stand up for us ladies to sit.  I will miss that.  Being the independent women we are, we were like “oh no, we’re fine, really”…we need to stop doing that!  We should just feel honored and let it happen.  I forced the rest of my group to head out (I don’t handle support well, again, stupid independent woman) and so I stayed with the two Indian men.  It took forever, who knew a lot of accidents happen on the first night of the weekend when all the Saudi’s are out?  Huh.  

Now a side note, you may feel as if I’m being racist here mentioning all the countries of origin.  That is how it is here though.  Everyone wants to know where everyone is from, it is one of the first questions you ask people.  Very few of the people here, even the Arabs, are from Bahrain.  The Arabic people, for the most part, have a tie to another country-Lebanon, Kuwait and Saudi are the ones I hear the most.  Even my Bahraini students will specify what country they feel ties to (mostly to separate the Arabic from the Persian roots).  I also really love, by having this be the first question, that you learn a ton.  Last weekend I went to an Internations Dinner and sat across from a Syrian man.  He let me ask all of my dumb questions (Is it safe where your family is?  Have you been back recently?) and answered them.  If I had just assumed he was from a gulf region country, I would not have learned so much.  In America we all have such a similar background yet we cling to our heritage roots when we have nothing to cling to-I said I was Swedish to a group of people once and they laughed.  I’m not Swedish.  I’m American.  My ancestors are Swedish, I’ve been to Sweden, but I still know NOTHING about it.  We should instead talk about America and be advocates for America, cause Lord knows, America needs some good representation all over.  Ok, side note over.  

So anyways, we patiently wait our turn (I’m being completely serious-it took way over an hour for anyone to talk to us, but everyone was very calm and polite).  Cops look at our cars, get our information.  This was a little scary for me because I didn’t have my CPR card (like your social security/license here) and I only had my US license.  They sent my US license around the office and finally, after a lot of Arabic, I heard “America, she’s fine”.  I asked what it was all about and they said I should get a local license.  I said that I was leaving for good next month and they said “ok, you are fine.”  We then got sent to the “Cashier”.  The man pays 20BD.  I pay 6BD (for the report).  Then the guy has to pay a BD for something and he doesn’t have it, he only has a 5.  So the “cashier” pulls out a ball of cash to make change (read “Ball”, it is not like my grandfather who has his cash in a cute money clip with the hundreds on the outside so you look like a pimp…this was a ball of cash that a 6 year old would put on the counter of a store to pay for a toy).  He then asks if the guy is going to get his car fixed.  He says no.  The guy gives him 10BD back.  Puts all of the money we gave him in the wad and puts it back in his pocket.  

I now have a police report where I can read nothing but my name.  

Overall it was a smooth process-good job Bahrain.  

screw pause, let's fast forward this piece...

You know that moment in your life when you can’t look to the future because you have no idea how you can get there, and you can’t look at your past, because you are trying to move past it?  I call that life on pause.  You cannot make any gains and you are spinning your wheels just trying to make the most out of what you can at the time.  My life was on pause for two-ish years.  Just kind of cruising through.  Last year, when I moved here to Bahrain I wrote that my life was not on pause anymore-I could see how I could move forward and I was excited.  As of February 17^th I thought I was moving forward…with my career.  I could see my whole professional future and it was fine.  When I accepted the new job I was on the fence.  I told Ezza that I got the job in the elevator and she said “Congratulations, I guess?”  I said "yeah..." and we hugged. 

 Right before that, on Saturday, February 2^nd we went to Ladies Night at JJ’s.  It was the beginning of Winter Break and we were just out.  I kept making eyes (meaning flirting over my drink) with a guy wearing an OSU shirt.  Me, being a faithful Minnesota/Wisconsin fan knew that I hated OSU, just on general Big 10 principles.  Me, also being a huge smart ass, decide the best way to flirt with this guy is to talk shit about his favorite team.  I told him he was brave to wear such a horrible team’s shirt, even if no one in this country knew what it was.  He said something about football, I said something about basketball, and I went back to Ezza (and the two guys we were talking to at the time).  A couple of minute’s later OSU boy comes over with a pen and napkin and asks for my number (ballsy, considering I was sitting with two guys-just friends by the way-but still, ballsy).  I told him I would be watching the Superbowl at a restaurant the next night, maybe we could meet up there. 

Well the Superbowl started and I had not heard from my OSU boy.  I figured he realized that I was a smart ass and in a sober state, came to the conclusion not to call me.  Not the case though!  He texted me (so he did have a phone…did not need the napkin in these new fangled technology times) during the game, but did not know that the restaurant locked their doors at 2.  So we made plans to meet for lunch the next day (the 4^th)-I told him to wear an OSU shirt so I could recognize him. 

On the 4^th we met and he was cuter than I remembered (always a plus!) and the conversation was great-I think we stayed for 2 hours.  He left that day for Australia for 2 weeks, but said he would call when he came back into town.  A simple “I’m just not that into you” would have sufficed, but Australia is a cool lie. He actually was going though and we became Facebook friends. 

While OSU was gone, I got the new job and continued to have fun in Bahrain.  He messaged me a couple of times while he was gone and called as soon as he landed on the 22^nd.  We spent  the whole weekend together.  He left again and came back, but on March 9^th I realized that he was too good for me.  I’ve heard that line before...shows, movies, but never understood what it meant...until then.  He is honestly, a true gentleman.  Nice, sincere, honest, brave, I could go on…but I felt like I would let him down.  I’m nice, most of the time.  I’m sincere and honest, when I feel I can be.  I’m not that brave…it just felt...like I wasn't good enough.  Best way I can describe it.  We parted ways-and decided to talk when we could (he says we were never gonna talk again...)  March 15^th he changed his mind...he emailed me. We chatted and decided to get coffee the next day.  I thought about him a lot over the week, but knew I shouldn’t contact him, so when he contacted me, even when I told him everything, I knew it was good.  So I got all fancy for our coffee date-hoping to make a good impression.  I think I did alright.  We have been inseparable ever since. 

I kept saying we were going at warp speed.  Asking if he was ok, are we moving too fast?  He said no, and I believed him.  March 28  we went out with his friends.  It was a fun night, and it was the night I knew I loved him.  It is too much information, but I knew we did because we got in a fight.  It was a misunderstanding at the bar when we had been drinking (REALLY?  Who would have thought alcohol and loud music could cause people to not hear others!)  We left angry at each other, but when we got to a quiet place, we didn't scream, we didn't ignore each other, we looked into each other’s eyes and talked it out.  We explained how we felt.  I’m not saying we both weren’t still mad and/or drunk, but we left holding hands.  The next day we made sure we were ok, we were, and I loved that we were able to talk about how we felt and forgive.  On March 29 I was telling him how good I felt about us and his response was “Are you saying you love me?”  So I don’t know who said it first, but there it was, out in the open and the speed was going faster than ever.

We talked about how the next school year would be horrible but we could do it…10 months apart wasn’t anything. 

 However, the closer we got to his leaving date, the worse it was feeling.  I was struggling to think about 2 months, let alone 10.  I was mad because my life would be on pause again, we were going to be half way around the world from each other, able to see each other every couple of months, maybe, and my life would be at a weird standstill.  I could tell it was eating him alive too.

We talked and on April 9^th decided that I was moving home.  I was scared as hell to tell my parents and school, but there was very little debate.  I played devil’s advocate a couple of times, but still couldn’t think about 10 months. 

On April 26^th, at the same bar we met at, in an OSU shirt, with all of our friends around, he asked me to marry him.  I said yes enthusiastically, we hugged, and kissed and everyone cheered.  Ezza and I went to the bathroom to look at the ring and talk.  She looked at me with tears in her eyes, and I started crying.  She said “Congratulations!”  I said "yes!"  And we hugged so tight and I couldn’t stop smiling. 


Life Unpaused.   

Keeper of the Stars

This past week I posted the Bill Cosby quote “decide that you want it more than you are afraid of it.”  It was fitting at the time.  Hell, it is fitting all of the time.  There is something every day that I am slightly afraid of…but if it is worth doing, or you want it bad enough, we move past the fear.  How soon is too soon to move past the fear though?  How long are we supposed to sit and stew on it and debate whether we want it more than we are scared of it?

In class, I can let a student struggle for only about 5-8 minutes until the fall apart and lose interest in the math.  They are so scared of failing and getting the problem wrong, that if they cannot answer it in 5-8 minutes they just don’t do it.

Imagine if we only sat and stewed over our own personal dilemmas for 5-8 minutes. 

It felt like that when I decided to move to Bahrain.  I applied in the middle of February and had decided by March 25^th.  I cried for about a week straight while I was debating.  I talked to my family every day, but did not mention much to friends.  I remember telling Jamie over spring break.  It was hard knowing that this huge life change was going to shake so much up, yet was the right move.  I had to convince some people that it was for good and that I was happy. 

However, that huge step in my life was whirlwind and great. 

I do very few things slow.  I talk fast, I think faster than my fingers type, and until recently, when I have learned the Arabic way of life, I walked fast.  I have many speed tickets including through a school zone, on my way to school.  I’m not proud, I just always think that there is something exciting to be getting to…we should move fast! 

I believe that people sit and stew too long.  I am a procrastinator, but I make my mind up pretty quickly.  I never visited a single college campus when I accepted to Elon.  I applied, interviewed and accepted in a week when I switched jobs to Durham.  Canden and I bought Bakerloo in about 5 minutes of debating.   

I believe in gut reactions and feelings.  I believe we all know what we want innately, however, the longer we sit and stew we change those gut reactions, and sometimes for the better, but sometimes just for the easier. 

I love excitement.  I love a challenge.  I love gut reactions. In my first blog post I wrote about this need.  My job is amazing because it provides me with a challenge every day.  I have put my job first because of this passion. 

So, in a whirlwind move, is it ok to be challenged in other areas?   Can we worry too much about something and sit and stew and struggle…too much?  Too little?  At what point am I not building my students’ intelligence when I let them struggle with a problem?  When should I intervene?  When do “helpful suggestions” become “telling them the answer”?  When do we listen to others and take their advice over what we really want…or need? 

The Rolling Stone’s song “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” is stuck in my head.  It has NOTHING to do with any current situations…I actually just read the lyrics and…well…am really surprised by them.  However, the point being…it may not be what we want, but it may be what we need. 

Did fate lead me to Bahrain or was it a gut reaction from something my boss said that led me down a rabbit hole here?  If I hadn’t acted quickly would I have taken this adventure? 

The girls watched “He’s Just Not That Into You” tonight.  The main character Gigi sits and thinks and stews over every single thing that a guy does.  It drives her (and her friends…and the guys) crazy, however she is the eternal optimist and knows that love is right around the corner for her.  When she stops thinking and listening to all the “exception” stories, that’s when Alex comes along and tells her she is his exception (you have to see it to fully understand). 

Our life is full of rules.  We follow guidelines at work; we follow traffic rules (well…sometimes), follow ones outlined and even ones that are just understood.  You must stop at a red light (written).  You should give up your seat to the elderly (understood).   So why in our life do we have this rule that we have to overanalyze all aspects until we go crazy?  Rules should be simple and easy to understand.  And as the movie states…we are the rules…until we are the exception.  Worrying, fear and trepidation will not get you anywhere except for reveling in a world of exceptions that do not meet your circumstances.  The only way we can find our own exceptions is to take a leap of faith.

Leah Banner Poole is an exception.  She is taking a leap of faith…and I love her and Jordan for it.  I hope that I can continue to show her that following your gut reaction, your heart, and/or your instinct will lead you to amazing things…as I have found…here in Bahrain…and, inshallah, beyond.

Grown up vs. Mature...that is the question

I’ve been blogging for a year now.  It was a year and two days ago since I sent my Director this email with the subject line :Challenge Accepted::

“Hi!  I would be honored to work for Bayan.  I look forward to the next few months of planning and then our future collaboration together.  Thank you so much!”

On April 1^st I told most of my people, on April 4^th I posted my first blog on here.  Not a lot has changed in a year. 

Just kidding…

But seriously…

I was so nervous to move, but SO excited at the same time.  I knew that the new culture would be difficult and that I would miss people like crazy, but adventures are so amazing.  So a year in to the process (and 7+ months of living overseas) I am still excited for the journeys ahead.  I have a lot of fun things to look forward to, and in general keeping my eye on the prize. 

I do not have seniors for the next two weeks while they take their mock exams so I am planning on being the best damn teacher there is for my 9-11^th graders.  2 less classes a day will definitely help with that.  At the end of this two weeks is our holiday too; these two weeks will fly by for sure.  Just like time always does when you are really looking forward to something.

Just kidding…

But seriously…

John asked me yesterday if I was to the point in my life that I was “done” growing up.  It was at brunch, so I am pretty sure my reaction sounded something like “phssshhhhhhh”.  However, it is a legit question.  When I look at my parents I think “wow, they have their shit together.  I wonder if I will ever be like them.”  When I look at my friends like Sara and Jamie who have amazing husbands, beautiful kids, I wonder “how the hell do they do it?  I can barely balance my coffee and muffin in one hand, let alone my life.”  

So then John and I had a conversation about growing up, or being “done”.  This was at brunch, so I mean, it was probably the most intellectual conversation we could have ever had, that neither of us my perfectly remember, but you know, I remember the main points. 

First of all, I hope I am never to the point where I stop learning.  I am a bit of a know-it-all (and ass kicker at Trivial Pursuit) but I know I really do not know it all.  I want to be a life-long learner.  I want to know more about politics and choose candidates not just for social views, but economic ones (my Dad just put his fist in the air a la Judd Nelson in Breakfast Club).  I want to know more about psychological happenings of children so I can better teach my current kids, and raise my future ones.  I want to embody the meaning of tolerance and be a good person to everyone, all the time.  I have a lot still left to learn!

Secondly, and this one is so weird for me to be saying, we have to remember to be silly.  Joan used to say that Minnesota was my kid zone because I got to hang out with kids younger than me and be on their level, instead of peers my own age and adults and be on theirs.  I have been pretty mature for my whole life.  I never enjoyed being silly, or foolish, not a huge fan of practical jokes, fart noises or general goofiness.  Apparently though, my silliness has exploded here.  However, it’s not new found silliness, but it is just that I now know that I do not have to be mature all of the time, and that a silliness is a good balance to have.  My birthday in Minnesota is evidence that my parents have shown me that you have to balance “grown up” with “silly” every now and then.  I am not going to call out our adventures, however, I hope when I am “grown up” Deanna and Joan are who I am like J 

When I teach my students I want them to learn the math.  I need them to know how to multiply, plug into equations and when to use the right equation.  I want them to be polite, engaged and use correct vocabulary and examples to support their conclusions.  I want them to be mature.  During break, I want them to run and scream and push each other on the soccer field.  We can’t expect them to be all work, all the time.  We can’t expect adults to be either.  The problem with adults, is that we consider a lot of what we do as work.  We have jobs (I love mine, some do not), we run errands to pay bills, grocery shop, take dry cleaning (I do not, but that is what Bahrain delivery is for), and we clean the house and keep everything in order (I do not, but I should).  I have lived my life before where this consumes my time and it feels like you are working all the time.  Being here, I have realized, silliness is needed and should be encouraged.  This is a statement that I would have never said 3-4 years ago. 

So now, don’t expect me to like costume parties, or think that spongebob is funny,  but take pictures with a balloon hat?  Ok I’ll do that now.  So by making this discovery about myself and life in general, does that make me a grown up?  Or just freaking awesome?

Just kidding…

But Seriously…

Lucky Rabbit's Foot

So blogging everyday isn't for me…obvi.

I felt like a huge waste of space last weekend.  I did very little, which in actuality was quite nice.  Weekends here are busy.  I’m not sure if it is because my friends are the people I work with everyday, or if it is because the island is so small, but it feels like I never leave school.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t work on the weekends that much, and I have a lot of fun, but it just doesn't feel like I get away from BBS.  So this past weekend I went to bed at 8pm on Thursday night, caught up on ALL of my shows on Friday (thank you Grey’s for being good again!) and then got sick on Saturday…that’s what doing nothing will get you I guess. 

So when Sunday rolled around I took my first visit to the hospital by myself.  I have had a never ending cold for about 3 weeks and this weekend I had a swollen, red eye that hurt.  So here is how it went at the hospital. 

Walk in…look around…realize you do not know where to go so continue walking…no one stops you because there are very few “security clearances”…I proceed to “Check in” where she asks me what doctor I want to see.  I told her I had never been and didn't know what was really wrong.  She asked what hurt, I said my eye, she told me optometrist.  She then asked my name.  I told her.  She said “you aren’t in my system.”  I had already told her I had never been, but I repeated myself (I’m a teacher, I’m used to that).  She got my CPR card (like a SS card for Bahrain) and saw that I had been here since August.  “You’ve NEVER been here?”  This is where, if she were a 9^th grader, I would have cocked my head to the side, stamped my foot and told her to sit down, but since she was an adult, and already sitting, I again, repeated myself, that no, this was my first time. 

After finishing check-in I went to the optometrist, who tested my eyesight…I read everything they gave me perfectly (thank you Dr. Cayton).  He felt my glands, he stared into my eyes (not in a good way) and proceeded to tell me I had an infection and it would take me 7-10 days to clear up.  I asked if it was viral or bacterial and he said “both.” I asked for a doctor’s note to take to school and he said “Yes, would you like 7 or 10 days off?”  I told him I just needed a note saying I visited the doctor and he said, “Ok the rest of the week off then.” 

Then I left there, went to insurance, paid my 5BD ($13) copay and went to the pharmacy.  She handed me my two eye drops (free) and I left. 

So in 45 minutes I checked in, saw a doctor, got 5 days off of school (which I didn’t take) and 2 prescriptions for 5BD.  My eyes cleared up about 2 days later and my cold symptoms are gone too. 

Monday, I got a surprise phone call from John.  I tutored until 7:30 and then met up with him.  I had amazing days at school (the kids were really good this week), tutored lots, and went shopping for dapper men’s clothes.  This week kicked butt. 

This weekend will be busy.  I’ll post pictures on Facebook of all of us looking uber-fancy at Eimear’s birthday brunch tomorrow.  You may have already seen John’s fancy-ness.  Ezza and I have been debating dresses all week.  I can’t decide if I’m going to wear my spice girls dress or be somewhat more sophisticated (and classy).  Ok, I’ll go classy. 

So last week ended in such a good way so I blogged, this week was pretty great too, so I’ll blog again.  Maybe weekly blogging is my good luck charm…

Obvi.  

No Day but Today

I love Rent-no secret.  However these lyrics are so appropriate right now:

"There's only now

There's only here

Give in to love

Or live in fear

No other path

No other way

No day but today"

Just in general life, you have to do what you have to do, and you have to do it now.  Don't wait, don't dwell on yesterday, don't fret about the future.  Make it right today.  So this week has been all about that!

.............................................................................

I’m the mean teacher.  My students have (all) claimed that I am becoming mean.  Or am already mean…or just a bitch.  I’m not quite sure what the final verdict is, but I feel it too.  I am stressed.  Not that life is stressful, but I think it is because I am jealous of all my friends working towards Spring Break, when mine is still so far away, ok two weeks, but still!

Two weeks ago I was so sick.  I stayed home one day with a fever and should have stayed home another day, but I hate being out two days in a row.  Then last week was my big presentation so I was working hard on that.  This week has been an amazing week.  I feel on top of my teaching, actually taking the time to plan activities again.  I had fun afternoon outings to occupy my time and put me in a good mood.  My apartment is not COMPLETELY disgusting, although it is still messy.  So with a positive atmosphere around me, today, I made the conscious effort to be happy at school-"no day but today".  I tried to be positive in all of my classes and not yell, or go off the edge when a kid asked the same question that I had already answered 5 (million) times before.  What did I get?  A great day that is leading me to blog!

My tenth graders are, by far, the smartest group I’ve ever taught.  Not saying they are individually the brightest, but as a whole, they work together to accomplish great things.  So when a couple of them mentioned that I was being snippy I thought I really should get myself in check.  Today I had a whole plan and threw it out the window when my quick little intro into the Unit Circle ended up getting so many great questions that I just went through and explained the whole thing.  They were amazing.  I said something off the cuff that tan(225)=1 and I heard clicking of calculator buttons and then “HOW DID YOU KNOW?!??”  So I showed them.  They did amazing.  We proved tanx=sinx/cosx.  This isn’t “hard” stuff, but it is very abstract.  They took notes for 40 minutes straight asking great questions.  At the end of class I thanked them for doing so well in the lesson, I felt like we learned a lot and they agreed!  Ugh, teaching moments like that will make you stay in the profession forever. 

I haven’t been mean to my IB 12 class because I never freakin’ see them.  These kids just go to whatever class they feel like it seems.  I only have a week to review with them before their mock IB’s and they are all saying they will do fine.  Literally, none of them came to class yesterday.  I don’t think they will be fine on the IB exam.  I think they will all make 3’s and 4’s (out of 7’s).  But really I cannot do anymore-if they do not show up, I cannot review with them.  Well anyways, today almost all of them were here and we were reviewing functions (some had already done part of it).  So I sat back and said “finish this worksheet” and they taught each other.  It was good teaching too.  Ok, maybe they will be ok. 

My ninth grade class is one of my trickiest classes ever.  I have students who have EXTREME (undiagnosed because you don’t do that here) ADHD.  I have students who were in higher level math but dropped because they did not want the work load.  I have students who are so sweet and a few who are extremely spiteful.  When I see this group 1^st period I love them all.  I want to give each a hug and kiss and walk them through step by step.  That only happens one day out of six.  The other five days I pull my hair out, yell, scream, and hit (ok, only in my imagination, but it’s so good) all of them.  Today I thought “I’m not going to raise my voice”.  Well that was a lie.  The class is 75% boys and they dominate the atmosphere.  I’m good with boys (insert inappropriate joke here) but my poor girls suffer in this class.  Today wasn’t bad though.  They worked hard.  They got right answers.  There was definite yelling going on, but overall, it was 9^th grade appropriate and they left smiling.

For my last class, I made a scavenger hunt to finish up quadrilateral properties.  This is a group of seniors who seriously just need to graduate…a long time ago.  They are done.  Done-er than done. So the fact that they all worked, the last period, on a Thursday, was phenomenal.  The math was correct too.  It was not perfect but there were no complaints from me or them.  Mission Accomplished.

I didn’t see my 11^th graders today-which is the group that really hates me recently.  They are not my all time favorites right now either.  Anyone from high school remember when Ms. Corey came running into Mr. Roeber’s room and said “I’m not a lesbian and I don’t deal drugs!”?  I know why she was so mad.  It was because she “trusted” us.  Not that she gave us secret information, but she thought that we were a good enough group to not gossip, spread rumors or just basically have ill-will towards her or any other teacher. 

A couple of years ago I was going through a lot of personal life stuff and I know it reflected in the classroom.  110% I know it did. I had a class that met 90 minutes a day for a whole year (most only met for a semester).  When you spend that much time with students you have to create a bond with them.  Most I did and still share that bond with them.  However, about February, students were starting to talk and I sat on a table, stone faced, and said “I’m not a bitch. Stop calling me one behind my back.” I think we moved past that point by the end of the year, but I remember being so hurt and betrayed by that group. I'm feeling that way now with this group.

My current 11^th graders are with me for the long haul. I teach them for 2 years (it is a two year course).  We have to make it work for 55 minutes a day for two years.  That is a lot of time to be studying one topic together.  This group used to be great.  Individually, I still really like them.  However, some have started lying, scheming, cheating and being rude and it is super disappointing.  I really held this group on a pedestal when we first met (wrong I know) and now I just expect the worse from them.  Yesterday we gathered data in the gym on their basketball abilities.  It was fun.  I lost, badly, but overall I had fun with them.  I think it is an important thing to remember that they are kids. I’ve heard parents say it before too…you forget how fun your kids are sometimes.  It’s not always about the rules and regulations, sometimes it is about teaching them more than that.  I still have some hurdles with my 11^th graders, and some have lost their entire account in my “trust bank” (reference to the best/worst parent talk Jessalee’s Dad ever gave) but I think in the next two years we can earn it back with interest. 

So today was a good day because I set out to make it so.  So here is to more good days and weeks.  Thank  you to everyone who has suffered the past couple because of my attitude…I gave myself an attitude check…hopefully it works!

Three things

So two fun and one not fun thing have happened in the past day so this is just about them…no existential thinking or life quandaries…thank goodness right??

        1.       My IB 11 class is studying bias and so I had them read news articles.  I love trying to get them to relate to the news articles, but it’s hard.  Anyways one of them was on Alzheimer’s and I asked if they knew what that was…the best response ever…

“Of course we do Miss, we watch Grey’s Anatomy”

        2.       I am in love with 8tracks.  If you haven’t heard of it ask Emmy, she told me about it.  Anyways basically you type in your mood (happy, sad) and what you are doing (driving, showering) and it pulls up playlists people have made.  This morning I listened to “Middle School Dance”.  Of course I did not blast “You Ought to Know” by Alanis at 6am on the freeway.  Never.

        3.       Speaking of freeway, I saw a dead body on the road yesterday.  You know how in the states when there is a bad accident they pretty much scoop the body up before anyone can see it and leave the rest of the wreck.  Yeah, well here, there were four cops standing around this body in the far left lane of the freeway.  Not the fun one, but it is what makes life in Bahrain different. 

The 2^nd anniversary of the protests is tomorrow.  Things may be bad, things may not be…who knows…I have some students saying they are not coming to school, while the government has issued a decree to allow no sick days tomorrow, to encourage people to proceed in normal fashion.  You can read the article in the Bahrain newspaper Gulf Daily News.