So...it's not just me?

Before this blog begins in earnest, I've been doing a lot of reading and researching. Some has been both productive AND fun, which is always cool. One of the things I've done is invest some time reading "chick lit," which is not my first choice of reading material, but I wanted to take a look at whether or not they could hold any interest for an old-timer like me.

One of the books is Candace Bushnell's One Fifth Avenue. First of all, I need to make something clear: as I once told someone, I am not a "Sex in the City" person. About the only thing I have in common with those women is my affinity for cute shoes. The rest? Not so much. So I wouldn't pick up Ms. Bushnell's novel unless it was (a) on sale, and (b) for research. Fortunately, it was both.

I didn't so much dive into Ms. Bushnell's book as I did wade into it--hoping to uncover the secret to an amazing life full of martinis and Manolos. Instead, I found something I already have: discontent.

They say that authors write about things they know. I'm not sure that Candance Bushnell knows of discontent, but she sure does write about it in One Fifth Avenue. Many of the characters are in their forties and beyond, and they have a lot to say about age. One says, "Life gets boring when your middle-aged. You can't keep doing the same thing. You look like an asshole."The same character later says, "It's extraodinary, getting old. It's as hard as people say."

When the same character states that he doesn't want to hurt the feelings of another, the other character states, "I'm forty-eight years old. My heart's been broken for about forty years."

And here's one that I really love: "...he sometimes wondered if these larger fears masked the smaller and less worthy fears that drove everyone in his world: the fear of not making it, of being left behind, of not utilizing one's skills or potential or advantages to the fullest."

What I don't understand, and maybe it's intentional, is that all these characters are male. The females are strong and secure and know what they want and they go after it. I want to know how these (albeit fictional) women got this way.

Why is Ms. Bushnell not writing me an instruction book?

More of the Same

I applied for another job yesterday, and was given the whole "wish you success in your endeavors." I think this can be translated into "thanks, but no thanks."

Job Interview #1 - Should have been suspicious when they held it at a mall.

I decided to go out on a limb--a really loooong limb--yesterday and audition for a new segment on a local television station's morning show.

So did hundreds of other people.

(And yes, I'm well aware I don't have the hair for it.)

Anyway, I thought it would be a good experience, just so that I am in practice for the spring. Although I have applied for various jobs throughout the school system, they are LOUSY about contacting teachers, even to let us know our application was received. They usually end up hiring someone from an adjoining county--in an effort to keep the teachers from getting into jobs where they can actually talk about classroom needs. This is just my opinion, but it is widely held among my colleagues.

I didn't even make the first cut, though they did film me briefly for a segment about my 8th graders writing letters to this particular station about why I am the perfect candidate for the job. It's supposed to air next month when they advertise their new hire.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to practice interviewing and keep on keepin' on with Kirb Appeal and its various auspices. Stay tuned for more adventures of the new thirteen.

Still Getting Hit

Thanks for stopping by. This blog is under construction, but it will be up in April, for real.

Meanwhile, if you run into Rick Moranis, let him know I'm still waiting.

Wasn't Planning on This...

The "technical launch" of this blog and the new Act it unveils is set for April...so when newthirteen got a zillion hits today, I was perplexed.
Apparently, I'd been tweeted.

My post regarding the lack of "fun" in education had been linked by someone who has many followers. And I stand by that statement--education should be fun.

So thanks to the folks who have stopped by---I hope you come back when newthirteen is underway for real.

I Am Not Myself

I had a discussion (some might call it a disagreement) with a friend yesterday. She and I don't really know each other very well, but our circles overlap. She is young
(29) and pretty (pageant queen) and talented (sing, dance....you name it, she can do it). When I questioned the validity of a "quarter-life crisis," she said that a quarter-life crisis was real.

Here's the difference between her quarter-life crisis and my mid-life one: hers is situational. She doesn't necessarily have any power over the situation, but situations change. Yes, she's slogging through $hit, and it stinks as $hit usually does. But eventually the $hit will dissipate and she will reach higher ground.

Mine is physical. I was a dance minor in college. (You ask yourself: Really? You don't LOOK like a dancer. This is your nice way of calling me overweight. I'll be the first person to admit I don't weigh 107 anymore.) Not only can I not dance, I can barely go up and down stairs. And even if I could perform a twelve-count without worrying that I might break a hip and they would put me out of my misery by taking me out back and firing a bullet into me, it would take me an hour to learn. Because my brain doesn't work, either. So the $hit that I'm slogging through just gets deeper.

$hit. We've all got it, irregardless of how old we are. The best we can hope to do is hold hands and make sure no one drowns.

Add My Value, Bee-otch!

With all the talk (mostly negative, if it's an educator doing the speaking) regarding "Value-Added Measures," I want to ask how to add my value to the current data.

(Last I checked, kids were not data. If I wanted to deal specifically with data, I'd be one of the following: an engineer, a research scientist, a stockbroker, a mathematician. I, however, majored in English. More about that wise choice later.)

Nearly every year, I bring a kid over to "The Dark Side." That means I turn a kid from someone who never voluntarily picked up a book IN THEIR LIFE to someone who can't stop reading. Where are the points added for that?

Last year I had a student who was new to our school, coming from another school in the system. This is rare in 8th grade, and I wanted to know more. When I read his journal, I found out. He had been at a school where he had been ridiculed and made to feel "stupid." His parents agreed to move him to our school after he had attempted suicide. In his journal he wrote that he felt safe in my room--I would kid him, but it was fun. I made him feel "cool." How many points do I get for that, government?

Today, I talked to a student who had worked hard and done all my extra credit last quarter. This kid has struggled with reading all his academic career and never made above a "D." I made him angry on more than one occasion by sitting next to him as he worked. I forced him to pay attention to the text. I was on the very top of his hate list, and he got a "B." When his father received the report card yesterday, they both cried. Do I get extra credit?

Statistics stink. As somebody's granny says: figures don't lie, but liars can figure. And what I do can't be shown on a spreadsheet or a bar graph. But there you have it: I have no value.