Michelle Obama and Carla Bruni: NOT gossiping school girls

"OMG"? Seriously, Time?

nerd alert

I'm super excited about reading Othello with my students and about how they're responding to it. Super excited.

a funny thing happened on the way to the suburbs

Yesterday when I was on the El on the way to my parents' from the city, a person who I think was homeless thought that I was homeless.

I came up from Champaign Friday night and stayed with Didi, so I had my ratty old duffel bag full of clothes for the weekend. I also had a shopping bag with a pair of shoes I'd picked up near the station and my purse/handbag, which is rather large. I was wearing jeans, a blouse, and a cardigan, and I hadn't taken a shower.

The man had a black garbage bag full of stuff and a bike. He was wearing jeans with a cowboy-style vest and no shirt.

I was sort of day-dreaming when I made eye contact with him, so I smiled. He looked at me with concern and asked me if I needed help finding a place to stay. Confused, I said, "No, thanks. I'm good." Then he asked me if I needed any fare money. "No, thanks. I'm good." Then he asked me if I needed any coffee. Again, I told him I was good. Before he got off he checked again that I had someplace to stay, and then he gave me a slip of paper with his name and phone number on it "in case [I] need anything."

This was altogether a very strange experience.

bad marketing

Here's the logo for the conference I'm attending in a couple weeks with three other new teachers from my school. I'm super psyched about it; don't get me wrong. But I think Lisa Frank designed the logo. Mine is not a butterflies and rainbows kinda classroom.

I love my profession.

I really do. I like feeling as though my work is important. Today, for example, one of my students, who's typically a little all over the place, brought in this final product for his research project on universal design and accessible playgrounds. I was so proud of him. His research was thorough and innovative, and he seemed pretty pleased with himself as he explained to his classmates how the playground that he'd designed would be a place where anybody could play, regardless of their physical capabilities. How fun to get to watch teens figure out that they can do something to positively change this fucked up world.


But I ended my day sitting at my desk, writing a discipline referral, and sobbing. About another student, one who I really believe is convinced he can't. Just in general, can't. I'm genuinely heartbroken that, at this point, he's probably going to fail the class, and I don't know what else I can do to convince him to do what it takes to pass. Johnny told me yesterday that I should come to terms with the fact that sometimes you have to stop trying. I know I have to. But I don't know how to stop caring.



(By the way, the anti-sentimentality in me is cringing at that last sentence.)