O.K., it's just hit me.

The Democrats have nominated Barack Obama for President. The first African-American man to be nominated by a major party for President of the United States. And he'll speak tomorrow on the 45th anniversary of Dr. King's "I Have a Dream" speech. Whoa. I really can't help but smile. (And after spending a lot of time this week looking over and worrying over the statistics that show that in my school, like in schools nationwide, African-American kids are not achieving at the same levels as their White peers, I needed that.)

and yet, I'll still lie awake staring at the ceiling tonight, feeling unprepared

FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL TOMORROW! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHH!
...

AAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

my list this work-week:

complete inspection of apartment
buy flowers for classroom
get file folders for world studies classes
get hanging folders for make-up work
return Megan’s modem to Comcast
mail voter registration for me
mail voter registration for Jess
update resume on eportfolio
make an LGBTQA safe zone sign for Sydney
submit a change of address form to the district
submit authorization for direct deposit to the district
take photos of classroom
buy Kasey’s birthday card and gift
get Born Into Brothels from classroom
get folders for ALS classes
attend UHS football fundraiser
make detention slips
get referrals
get hall passes
get overhead
set up school voicemail
get Kleenex
double check fire/disaster exit signs
get and hang up bell schedules
get more desks for classroom
get all IEP meetings on calendar
read and repond to Susan’s syllabus
meet with LT re: teams
set up refocus area in classroom
get a set of headphones
email Greg J re: grading committee
email Angi re: social justice committee
email Carol re: literacy committee
email thanks to LT and Chris C
make and hang a sign with deans names on it
make a computer questions sign
write ALS syllabus and copy it
write WS syllabi and copt them
write Thursday and Friday lesson plans for ALS, world studies and AP world studies
get Obama sign for classroom
make copies of ALS log sheets
get YWCA bumper sticker for clipboard
get endnotes to the print shop
find and plan with ALS teammate
ask Mike about independent reading books
stock shelves with inependent reading options
cite anger management source
email Mike for world studies electronic copy of rubric
talk to Carol about iMovie
sign up for Mac lab
ask Matt about DVDs
ask Greg about getting DVDs
get envelopes for ALS classes’ goal-letters
get inspection form to Weiner
tell Justin about projector
plan recognition of MLK’s “I Have a Dream” anniversary
get looseleaf
write introductory notes
collect lesson materials
get extra folders
get extra journals
one district assembly
two faculty meetings
one department meeting
one meeting with the middle school
check on Hepatitis B vaccination history
get migrant school proof of employment form to district office
look into purchasing URL space
make sure classroom Moodle site is in order
check out Dalkey books for potential grant request
get video cameras for poetry project
call Wendy
call Chris
post to Cross-Country Co-Teach
get McCain sign for classroom
make seating charts
meet with B.D.’s mom
get a copy of the teachers’ contact from Greg C

It's 7:36 am;

I'm sitting in my classroom; the theme song for Welcome Back, Kotter is playing over the P.A., and over the music, I can hear the administrators and secretaries in the office giggling. So that's funny.

photos of my classroom:

shwag

God I love free stuff. Everyone does, I know. But I, like, reeeeeally like it. When we were little, Dad used to take us to the Auto Show, and even though I've never had any interest whatsoever in cars, I would get seriously invigorated by the process of collecting hundreds of *free* brochures and posters for fancy vehicles. Upon returning home, without fail, I would promptly throw them in the garbage. (Obviously, this was before being green was uber-trendy.) And don't even get me started on the free gifts he would bring home from the Chicago Tax Club. Words cannot express that kind of goodness.

Check out the free crap I got today!


Oh yes, that's an Urbana School District pedometer you're seeing there below the Urbana School District pen and above the Urbana School District hand sanitizer. (O.K., but I'm seriously kind of excited about the tote bag.)


... And all joking aside, my job rules.

what a good blog

Susan introduced me to this teacher blog a little while ago with this post, which, basically, blew my teacher mind: (Click photo to see post.)

And I really like today's post, too. I like that if you look closely, the blogger seems to share my aversion to Jim Burke.

freaky subculture no more!

Check out the card I've seen for sale in more than one major retail chain:

1. The Irish dancer pictured does not have red hair.
2. The Irish dancer pictured is not holding a beer, nor is she visibly drunk.
3. The Irish dancer pictured is not a leprechaun.

and here's the kicker:
4. It's not a St. Patrick's day card!? The inside says, "You're gonna be Vice President, so work on your moves." Typically, Irish people figure into pop culture -- during the month of March only -- as cheerful, drunk, green-wearing, happy-go-lucky chatter-boxes. And frankly, I don't know that the general public is quite ready for the world of contemporary Irish dance to be unleashed into it like this. Trust me, it's kinda weird. (Weird, but AWESOME.) I mean, exhibits A and B:



And just as a side-note from this forever-member of the cult of Irish dance: that girl should work on her posture. But she's got nice poods.

apartment tour

It's still a work in progress, but with an emphasis on the progress.

Caution: Motion sickness ahead. Prepare accordingly.

(special thanks to Ben Harper and Neil Young)

Gene > Kasey?

The best thing about having friends that are skilled in inDesign? The letterhead. (For more information about the inner workings of The Board, see this earlier post.)

pretty exciting

can'tstopwon'tstop

Something I've learned about myself lately is that I do things really quickly. Call it a compulsion; I have to walk, talk, make decisions, eat, cross things off my necessarily-never-ending to-do list all at break-neck speed. Living by myself all summer has allowed me to be blind to all my weird "things" but my awesome new roommate doesn't let that shit go without remark, and rightly so.

This morning for example, I asked a hotel desk worker for directions to the nearest McDonalds, and could barely stand to wait there while she told me. In my head, I was thinking, frantically, "PLEASESTOPTALKINGPLEASESTOPTALKINGGOTTAGETOUTOFHERE." Not because I was in a rush for any reason, but just because my internal clock was telling me that it was time to be done with the where-is-McDonald's conversation.

And my Mom just told me about a deal on flights to Ireland in the coming months, and I gottabookitnow.

What's up with that? I need to chill. the fuck. OUT.

why is this not a more popular song

and why, when I dance like that now, do people think I look stupid? I look good.

This is a good song because it's a break-up song, and it's like, "Eh, ain't no thing." And I like that. No remorse.

why is this a song

wanderlust

Lately, everyone's like, "Hey Ellen, let's go to ______________." And every time, I say "Yes. O.K." But the problem is, I can't go anywhere because I have to go to school. And then the breaks are only so long, and I only make so much money, so I can't possibly go to all these places. But I want to. And all this time I'm spending thinking about going places, but not actually planning to go anyplace, is really just not something I like.

So now I'm saying, definitely, I'm going somewhere over winter break.

like Portland:

or NYC:

or New Orleans:

or Howth:

or really, I'd like to go somewhere where I've never been. (I've never been to Portland or NYC, but I'm thinking somewhere SUPER cool.) I'm restless.

but I like phonemes!

I've been doing lots of reading about school and English class lately; because, I'm getting really excited, but mostly nervous, about the coming school year. I guess I'm hoping that if I read enough scholarly material about the kind of good stuff that can happen in classrooms in public schools, then I will magically be able to make that good stuff happen in mine.

Last night I came across a talk that Neil Postman delivered to the National Convention for Teachers of English in Washington, D.C. in 1969. It's titled "Bullshit and the Art of Crap Detection."

Here's a taste:

Now, there are so many varieties of bullshit and, again time is so limited, that I couldn’t hope to mention but a few, and elaborate on even fewer. I will, therefore, select those varieties that have some transcendent significance. Now, that last sentence is a perfectly good example of bullshit, since I have no idea what the words “transcendent significance” might mean and neither do you. I needed something to end that sentence with and since I did not have any clear criteria by which to select my examples, I figured this was the place for some big-time words. Thus, we have our first variety of bullshit--what some people call, pomposity. The title or theme of this conference--Dreams and Realities--is another good example of pomposity. In the first place, I find it very difficult to believe that any group of English teachers can be all that familiar with what most people call “reality.” It is a fair guess that there are very few people living on this planet who regard as “real” the things most English teachers like to talk about and the fact that English teachers have not generally noticed this may be of transcendent significance.

In the second place, I don’t know what “dreams and realities” is intended to mean. I do not deny that it is a classy phrase, but it does challenge one to task, whose dreams? And whose realities? Surely not those of the thousands of black kids who go to school in this city. Or for that matter, kids anyplace. Perhaps it refers to the dreams and realities of English teachers, in which case, we probably should translate the phrase to read, “Our aims and our failures.” Not classy, but more to the point. In any event, the phrase is not worth dwelling upon except to say that it is a good example of the triumph of style over substance, which is the essence of pomposity.

Now, pomposity is not an especially venal form of bullshit, although it is by no means harmless. There are plenty of people who are daily victimized by pomposity in that they are made to feel less worthy than they have a right to feel by people who use fancy titles, words, phrases, and sentences to obscure their own insufficiencies. Many people in our profession dwell almost exclusively in the realms of pomposity, and quite literally, would be unable to function, if not for the fact that our profession has made respectable this form of bullshit. With the possible exception of the field known as educational administration, English teaching probably includes more pompous language than (you ready for this?) any other “discipline.” If you have some doubts about this, may I suggest that you review the NCTE Convention programs of the past ten years. I may be mistaken, but I am under the impression that some years ago someone gave a speech entitled, “The phoneme--Whither goest?”

It's funny 'cause it's true, but it's not exactly what I was looking for. I'm looking for more of a "This is what you should do to be a good teacher..."

just... you know... drivin', dancin', bein'

jackpot

Although I stand by all of my complaints about moving, I will say that finding a four-inch thick stack of emails I printed off (pre-gmail, obviously) from freshman year was AWESOME. And by awesome, I mean excrutiatingly embarassing.

And since I've also saved every note I ever took in any English or education class, I'm now enjoying a nice little review session of all of my knowledge. Reification.


I've found a few things good enough to be scanned in to the blog, so if I get a chance to get over to the computer lab, I'll share.

Dust allergy, why dost thou plague me so?

Seriously, I feel like freaking shit. I'm trying to pack my stuff for moving/purge my piles of all of the useless crap I've saved over the past four years. And my reaction to the dust I'm kicking up in the process is hindering my ability to comfortably scream along with my current cleaning music of choice, Kings of Leon. Which is a total bummer, obviously.

So I decided to take a break and work on the vlog. This is what I look like right now. (It's bad. I wasn't even making that face. I swear. PhotoBooth shot right when I had a sneeze come.)


Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

shameful

I got out of bed at 5:10 pm today. Tonight, I should say. Seriously? I mean, to be fair, I woke up earlier, enjoyed a bowl of pasta salad, and then watched the last hour of Batman Begins. But I didn't really get up for the day until it was 17/24ths over. Also, I'm pretty sure that saying that I watched a movie in bed doesn't really hold up as an argument for non-ridiculousness.

Then I went to Bread Company, by myself, and had a glass of wine with dinner as I read something pretentious. Then, I got an iced, skim, no-sugar vanilla latte. And now I'm sitting on my porch, working on creating a new-and-improved version of KEOH.

Does it get anymore self-indulgent than this? I think not. (And unfortunately, I'm so self-absorbed that, I must admit, I've found today to be lovely.)


(In other news, the NatGeo photo of the day today is pretty cool, no?)

My favorite brother

turns 25 today! And to celebrate, since I can't be at home, I've uploaded some vintage shots of The Guck-meister.

Here's Condor sitting on the kitchen counter at our house in Burbank (Mom, check out this link! I can't believe how cool Google Maps has gotten!) with a bunch of dirt in all of his orifices. He used to eat the houseplant in the fronch room. It was there, so he ate it. It happens:

Ha. I can't look at that picture without laughing. Look at how it's all matted into his shirt, and he's like, "What."

Here's Con and I showing some love in his old room. (It looks like I have no less than 4 bows in my hair. Thanks, Mom.):


Here he is circa 2007, sharing his shit with our niece Finola:


A rare (because no one cares) Dahlke kid photo that's pre-Ellen and Neil:

things swirling around in my brain right now:

1. Susan is almost 7 hours into her drive. Suckerrrr. Except it's really cool that she's moving so far away, and I'm going to miss her.
2. I need to reply to Didi and Wendy, but I have so much I want to tell them, so I don't know where to begin.
3. I left my phone in Matt's car which simultaneously sucks and is awesome.
4. Whoa. I'm starting school in 3 weeks.
5. I'm SO excited to spend my afternoon reading English Journal (There's an article called "Teaching Ethnography: Reading the World and Developing Student Agency." And how good does, "Walking the Talk: Examining Privilege and Race in a 9th Grade Classroom" sound? So good.)
6. I also continue to be enthralled with How to Interpret Literature. Just about to head into the chapter on Marxist theory. Yessssss.
5. I want to make a poster for my classroom that asks these questions that I found in an EJ interview with Linda Christensen, social justice educator extraordinaire:

key questions:
Who benefits?
Who's marginalized?
Why is a practice fair or unfair? How could it be different?
What kind of society would I like to live in, and how could I get there?

6. Bobbie Fein is so cool and hilarious.
7. How the hell am I going to pull off this move next weekend with no vehicle?
8. Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I don't want to pack.
9. The Cranberries are so underrated.
10. I wonder when Michael's coming home.
11. I hope my teaching certificate comes in the mail soon. Really soon.
12. I am so happy I started using Google Reader.
13. I'm feeling a major life shift coming on, and I don't really know how to feel about it.
14. I don't know what to do with myself right now.
15. I want someone to tell me what to do with myself right now.
16. How can I justify showing Do the Right Thing in my World Studies classes? Can I?
17. I want to start reading Sherman Alexie's blog, but it's overwhelming. I don't know where to begin.
18. Wouldn't it be cool if there was a way to quickly inject all of the thinking that happens when you read something into you so that you could "have" all the reading that you want to "have." Except that you don't "have" reading; you read. It has to be a process, and it has to be an effort, otherwise we wouldn't even think it was cool, and we certainly wouldn't want to be injecting ourselves with something uncool. Now would we?
19. I've probably been called "Ms. Burrito" for the last time. Sad. I hope the kids arrive safely back in Texas this weekend.
20. Whenever I'm having a bad day, I think I'll look at this: