canine concession

I've blogged before about my insistence that we are entirely too much of a dog-obsessed culture. Man's best friend should be human, not a drooling smelly canine who eats the table leftovers and falls for the fake ball-throw every time (unless your human friend drools and smells, at which point you should just say hey, dude, get a hold of yourself).

But this past weekend while visiting a human friend in d.c., I found myself swooning for her Cocker Spaniel roommate. By the end of the second day I was even wrestling Barney for his ball right out of his mouth, a task previously considered absolutely beyond my capacity. I don't know what came over me, but the combination of his ridiculously soft black fur, oversized paws, and bark that sounded like me whining for another piece of cake melted my heart. But still, I'm hesitant to say I've been made a believer. I take the same stance with dogs as I do with children: sure, their are diamonds in the rough that make you oooh and aww and feel yourself suddenly inspiried. But then there are the other 99% of encounters that leave you covered in unwanted snot/slobber, hearing impaired from excessive cries for attention, and exhausted from telling it to get out of the cookie jar.

I've always considered myself more of a cat person, for their sheer predictability of self-reliance. Cats do not need a mother, nor do they need a best friend at all times. In fact, Sloane Crosley's essay for the New York Times was a hot emailed item to all my dog-washed friends. And while I'm currently without any sort of non-human housemate, I can see myself buying friendship in the next year or so. We'll see which camp I commit to.

stuff white people like: ms. bacon edition

brunch, coffee dates with friends, country clubs, shaving off male facial hair, shopping in the suburbs, vegetables, tomatoes (specifically mentioned separately from vegetables), sunshine, country music, dating other white people, Starbucks (as opposed to Dunkin Donuts), cosmos, reading, black eyeliner, driving slow, swimming.

(as all mentioned, questioned, or stated by my students lately.)

superman? let's start with adequately compotent normal guy

As one of the few "perks" of Teach for America, I participated in an advance screening of the much-hyped "Waiting for Superman" documentary, which focuses on the public education system.

I have to say, it's quite the Debby Downer.

The film, praised by the likes of Oprah and countless others, crusades against drop-out factories, rubber rooms, teachers unions, school lotteries, and an overall broken system. It follows the fates of a handful of kids trying to get out of their assigned public neighborhood school and into either charter or magnet schools in both suburban and urban communities. Spoiler alert: only two of them make it out.

As a teacher working in just such a failing school, as measured by state tests scores for English and Algebra, discussions of this nature are bittersweet. While Oprah's overflowing promises that "this is the movie that will finally change your life" are well-intentioned, I can't help but be somewhat skeptical. Reformers from the KIPP network and Harlem Success Academy are highlighted as heroes; Michelle Rhee, chancellor of D.C. public schools, is set up to as almost a martyr for the case against bureaucracy. But what the film never really tells you is that these 5 kids are stuck in a lottery for a reason: it's terribly difficult to replicate these successes on a large scale. The recipe for success in the gumbo of a successful school is more than just teachers; principals, efficient budgeting, parent support, intervention resources, and those are just the stalk ingredients. Forget the spices to taste for differentiated curriculum, attendance monitoring, extracurricular support, etc.

I'd love for superman to swoop in and start cooking the gumbo. But for now, I'd just settle for slightly better than chaos.

Instead of watching tv today I...

finished a journal review assignment for a hopkins class that was due last Thursday. Once I got down to business it only took 45 minutes: highlighters and sticky notes as a strategy for keeping students with ADHD on task? useful.

I did come home and watch an episode of Gilmore Girls in between work and going to my other hopkins class, but I considered that acceptable because it really was for relaxation at a time when I would otherwise have just taken a nap.

alternate reality: a challenge

I waste entirely too much time in front of the television.

When I was little we were theoretically limited to one hour a day, and that hour could only consist of PBS programming. Don't get me wrong, I loved Kratts Creatures and Wishbone like none other, but sometimes Nickelodeon may have "accidentally" ended up sucking me into what my parents considered the epicenter of all childhood sins.

As I've gained the ability to choose my own TV channels, I can't say I've made better choices than ones dictated to me. Sometimes I just sit there and 2 hours later can literally feel my soul grimacing in defeat. I've always said I watch reality/crappy tv to prove to myself that my own life is intelligent and full of good decisions (aka to not leave a hook up date alone in my room while I make a meal first. Thanks Jersey Shore). But lately I've realized there's a fine line between relaxing escapement and just a plain waste of time.

Which brings me to my October challenge: no extra tv. Now granted, Glee, Grey's Anatomy, and Private Practice can stay; I'm not going to just toss out all my stress relief techniques. (Plus John Stamos and Taye Diggs are looking quite attractive these days). This also includes online viewing. Netflix Instant Play, while the best invention ever, makes it too easy to look up and realize 8 episodes of Weeds later that I could be doing something more useful, like my 8 loads of laundry or Hopkins homework. But other than that, it's go find a book, or actually write for fun, or, god forbid, exercise consistently. Also not included would be news-watching or the upcoming PBS series on God in America starting Oct. 11. I consider being informed as counting toward the self-edification process.

We'll see how this week goes...