Slack-O-Rama

While in college, I ran with a crowd who was rather obsessed with the satirical "religion" called The Church of the Subgenius.  I don't even want to link to it, as it predates The Dawn of Al Gore's Internet, and the whole thing is, well, sophomoric, like something to do in college. Anyway.  A core principle of its belief system revolves around the concept of "slack".  That is, free stuff.

Well, slack has been raining down like manna from heaven for the past 24 hours, with no sign of stopping.  

• A Burning Man ticket fell into my lap.  After much consternation, I am going to go.  Once a decade, whether I need it or not!  
  
• A ride with a dear friend materialized, saving me from needing to ride with a chakra-yogic stranger.
  
• A 32" TV was just offered to me for free.  No more DVDs on the computer screen!  It's old-school, but who cares?
  
• I have access to a PARKING SPACE in SF tomorrow if I need it for a thing I need to go do; this is invaluable.
  
• And the most recent bit of slack that came my way was a receipt with the cafe wireless code on it, which I am of course going to leave here for the next person who happens along.
  

Unfortunately, slack can only be achieved when one does nothing for it, so it cannot extend to my job interview tomorrow.  But I am taking all of this slack as a sign that things are good in the world, and will use this attitude go in there tomorrow and assume the best!

In or Out?

Yesterday, my mailbox fell apart.  

I put the key into the lock, where it promptly got stuck.  Really stuck.  This key wasn't disengaging, not on my watch.  So I started unscrewing the mechanism from the inside, at which point I became intimately familiar with how much I do not know about locks.  I soon found myself on the dusty porch, chasing tiny little metal cylinders (are those the tumblers?), trying to place them back into the lock (now freed of the key).  I learned that you can't just put any length cylinder wherever it fits.  I made my best guess and now the lock sort of works.

Something similar happened to me last year, when the house lock got stuck, fortunately in the "open" position with the door open (as opposed to not being able to open the door at all).  There weren't any little cylinders falling all over the place that time, though, just a door that I couldn't close.

I'm sure there's a tarot card or astrological sign or rune or something that's trying to tell me to stay in or out of this or that place, or maybe it's trying to tell me that I need to take a locksmithing course.

The San Francisco Mime Troupe is Back in Action!

Go see!  

The Story is Late, But it's Still Worth Telling

It's been a couple of months now, but this is the story of two days in one third-grade classroom.

I got to know the kids pretty well during these two days.  Their regular teacher apparently ran  a very tight ship.  I let them get away with a few things, but let them know that they were only getting away with things because it was okay with me.

One kid was a natural leader.  Smart, personable, always ready with an answer.  I noticed him speaking with his stock broker on the way to recess on a cell phone.  One made out of paper.  "Yeah, yeah," he said.  "Sell high?" I asked?  "Yep," he'd reply.

He had fun with his phone each recess, but after lunch I noticed what must have been the result of a promotional deal in the lunchroom - everyone seemed to have a phone!  We were going to do an afternoon activity, and I explained that, because we were in class, they were going to need to power their (paper) phones down.

They had a variety of excuses about why this was simply unacceptable:

"But I'm expecting an important call!"

"But can't I keep it on vibrate?"

"How about if I just text?"

"Can I just use it to take pictures?"

No, no, a thousand times no...we're in class, and you need to power down your phones...and the same goes for LAPTOPS (this was directed to a girl who at this point was furiously typing away on a sheet of folded paper, who upon hearing this news slammed it shut, clamshell-style).

It was all pretty funny.  Keep in mind, their regular teacher would've had these things in the recycle bin before anyone had speed-dialed their bookie, and they knew it.

Below is the phone the ringleader made for me - he made sure to check and see if he had included a texting function:

I said "thank you", and modeled powering it down, shutting it, and putting it away until after class.

This class, having a tight daily ship, knew the rules.  Oh how they knew the rules.  And they were not shy about enforcing the rules with each other.  In short, they were tattlers like no tattlers I had ever met.  After about one hour of this, I remembered a trick I'd read on a sub message board: The Tattle Box.  I emptied a small box I found on a shelf, and told the kids (upon their return from recess, all with fresh tattles to report), "It's very clear that you all know the rules, and you're very good at reminding each other of the rules.  Here's what I'd like you to do, and please use your judgement...if someone is bleeding or otherwise doing something dangerous, I want you to come tell me.  In all other cases, I'd like you to write down your concern and put it into this box."

The box was overflowing in a span of 45 minutes:

It turns out they were very concerned that I read the notes, but beyond that, they were just happy they'd been heard. 

I cannot recommend this technique enough.  I imagine there are some offices where this approach to management might come in handy.

Is This Thing On?

I can only imagine what I'd look like if I wasn't attempting to get my money's worth out of my gym membership.

Sheesh.

Simplify, Simplify, Simplify

Just as my substitute teacher dance card was filling every day, the clock struck midnight and the ball ended.  I am now once again an unemployed pumpkin.  This is actually sort of good, as I was getting a little too comfortable in a unsustainable position.

In an attempt to not reinvent the wheel every time I write a cover letter, I crib as much as I can from past cover letters.  This is a great idea, except while looking at past cover letters and their overabundance of 25-cent words, well, it's no wonder nobody has hired me and my big mouth yet.  I'm not intentionally using 25-cent words...they just sort of come out when they happen to be the best words to express idea x, y, or z.

We'll have no more of that!  No more proper idea expression!  Humph!

Reason Number 869

Remember when friends are receiving holiday bonuses that you receive your bonuses from much greater things.  The bonus includes students saying thank you, telling you that you are the best teacher, little notes and formal letters, and general job satisfaction.

--1000 Best New Teacher Survival Secrets

That's sure poetic and all, but as they say, it sure doesn't pay the rent.  But today I was struck by some of the truth in that (setting aside for a moment record gas and food prices, CA rent that's far too high, and no benefits) as I shuffled from one odd situation to another.

This is the final week of school.  I miraculously have four assignments, but they're all a little weird at this point in the game.  This morning, I was working at one site for a half day, supposedly filling in while teachers met with some incoming parents for next year.  Only one of the parents showed, leaving me doing a lot of sitting around in the faculty lounge.  At one point, the office manager asked if I'd mind doing some work for her.  Presented with a pile of papers to be folded and subsequently stuffed into envelopes, I lasted about ten seconds before feeling grateful that I have not been serving time in a different high-rise every day.  Yes, as frustrating as this job is, as low as I feel on the totem pole, as poorly as I am paid, I would rather be wrestling with the constant needs of kindergartners (who, by the way, imprint in about one minute), than stuffing envelopes.  

Way to go, perspective!

This afternoon, I was at a second site, and the plan called for some science.  Out of a textbook?!?  I asked if the teacher had any balloons for a chapter on electricity, and spent my lunch hour coming up with static experiments.  I was in The Zone, similar to the one I was in during my stint as a high school Improv instructor.  Enter the students.  I'd had them before, and we were just getting to the good stuff when BEEP BEEP BEEP - there's the fire drill!  We got out to the playground, where the alarm proceeded to go on for...a half an hour.  Someone had pulled the alarm, and the lock on the control panel was apparently corroded shut.  Wheee!   While all this was going on, I gathered the kids around me and tried to explain, over the din, how opposite charges attract, and like charges repel, all to set up a quick experiment we hadn't yet been able to do...just in case there was time back in class.  Booo!  They got the alarm shut off just as schooltime was ending.  I invited kids to leave if they wanted to leave, and to stick around for a few minutes if they wanted to do a couple of experiments.

The five students that stuck around gave me one of the most rewarding experiences I've yet had in this position, and at this point, all of us were off the clock.  They were interested and they were curious and they were grateful.  All very unusual during the course of a regular school day.

Also off the clock, I stuck around town for an extra three hours, all so I could head to yet another school and attend a showing of Hansel and Gretel Eat Right, as produced by a wily group of first graders I've grown to know very well.  I arrived just as the lights were about to go down, so the kids spotted me and started shouting my name.

I've gotta say, that was pretty cool.  

As long as I have to be a temporary worker with crappy pay and no benefits, I'd much rather be in a position of leading a discussion pointing out the relative un-PC-itude of Schoolhouse Rock's "Elbow Room" (which I did last week) and get hugs from germy little kids than push paper somewhere.