Even beyond teaching, the safety of our students is a teacher's most important responsibility.
I have helped considerably one particular student in one of my classes considerably. When an error occurred on his grade printout that made him ineligible to play football for the school, I went to the coach and showed him the error so the student could be reinstated. I have worked long hours trying to get his multiplication up to par (yes, he is making progress). He knows I am on his side.
Normally he wears his hair in corn rows. His eyes seem to be focusing on two diufferent places when he looks at you. He wears a gold "grill" over his front teeth, and is especially proud iof the new one he just had made.
Several days ago two students I didn't know appeared at the class door and tried to push their way in and start a fight with him. I was sitting in what amounts to a wheelchair, unable to do anything, but the teaching assistant and one of the security people who saw from a hallway that there was trouble prevented them from entering.
He is in the last class of the day.
On Friday about a half hour before the end of the class and the end of the school day, he got up from his desk, went to the back of the room, and wrote a message on the back of a sheet of paper. Very casually, he brought it up to me at the front of the class while the other students were copying material into their notebooks.
"There are some people who want to shoot me after school. Can I leave fifteen minutes early ?"
I nodded "Yes."
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Having Lunch with a Cannibal
A few weeks ago, out of the blue, one of my students asked, "Why do people eat other people ?"
The class opinion seemed to be that they were lacking other food, a notion I quickly dispelled.
Because of my crazy and varied background, I was able to tell them the story of how I once had lunch with a cannibal. When I announced to them that I had once had lunch with a cannibal, the stunned silence and attention in the room were almost palpable.
So here is the story, and the explanation of why most cannibals are -- or used to be -- cannibals.
This happened in a village in the interior of Viti Levu, the largest of the Fiji islands, where I had business. To reach this island had taken a full day of travel from Suva, the capital. First, I had had to take a bus for an hour or two out of Suva to a landing on the Rewa River. Then I had had to take a motor launch for about three hours up the Rewa. The shores of the river, which ran through the center of a wide valley, were flat a green, like pastureland, except that here and there huge, giant, green stands of feathery bamboo 100 feet tall cut into the
horizon of the hot, cloudless, blue sky.
Once near the village, it was necessary to climb a steep, slippery bank of mud, and continue up a hillside to a cluster of Fijian bure nestled amidst breadfruit trees and coconut palms. The bure were of the old traditional kind, with thatching enclosing the house on all sides, and with the black trunk of a giant fern extending outwards at each end. To visit this village was like returning to a time centuries ago when traditional Fijian culture was the only culture present, and where men had long lived listening to drums other than the drums of money.
I had business in that village. I needed some favors from the chief, and to obtain these favors I had brought with me a whale's tooth to present. I knew the chief quite well. I had visited and stayed in the village at least a half dozen times. I had often shared yaquona with him and others in his entourage.
A whale's tooth is a sacred treasure, a ceremonial gift to be given when the giver wishes an important favor. In Fijian custom, the recipient who accepts it is obligated to do a favor for the presenter, whether that favor is requested when the tooth is presented or even many years later. One does not accept a whale's tooth from someone one does not know and trust. In old Fiji, the request made through a whale's tooth might have been that the recipient kill someone for the presenter, or perhaps give the preenter one of his daughters.
In my case, I was presenting a whale's tooth for something much less important -- simply the participation of his village in a tourism project.
After the presentation, the acceptance, and my request, the chief and I had lunch. We sat on mats of woven pandanus leaves while the women in his family brought our food. The chief seemed to me to know a great deal about the outside world, and I commented about this. As his wife set bowls of chicken stewed in coconut cream, cooked fern shoots, breadfruit, and oven-baked taro root before us, he explained how he had come to know something of the world outside Fiji.
He explained that at a time when Britain ruled Malaya and communist rebels were trying to take over that country, he had volunteered to join the British army and go to Malaya to fight.
"Do you see that lime tree over there?" he asked, pointing to a magnificent, old lime tree just at the edge of the village.
"Yes," I replied.
"When I left this village, I made a vow. I went over to that lime tree -- which was much smaller in those days -- and picked two limes. I put the limes in my shirt pocket, and I made a vow."
I listened attentively.
"When we got to Malaya, we were sent up-country into the jungle. We were attacked by the rebels, but we outnumbered them by many men. When I shot and killed my first enemy soldier, I fulfilled my vow. I went up to his body, and with my thumbs I dug out his eyes. I squeezed the juice from my limes onto them, and then I ate those eyeballs, because I knew that when I had done this I would be a stronger warrior. And I was. I had his mana. I killed many, many rebels in that war before I came back several years later to this village."
And so years later this story was my answer to my student's question about why people eat other people. It is not for food, I explain. This is usually done -- in those few places on earth that still practice cannibalism -- for "mana" or whatever name the locals give to the essence of the warrior. The belief is that if you eat a part of a great warrior, you will gain a bit of warrior greatness yourself.
The class opinion seemed to be that they were lacking other food, a notion I quickly dispelled.
Because of my crazy and varied background, I was able to tell them the story of how I once had lunch with a cannibal. When I announced to them that I had once had lunch with a cannibal, the stunned silence and attention in the room were almost palpable.
So here is the story, and the explanation of why most cannibals are -- or used to be -- cannibals.
This happened in a village in the interior of Viti Levu, the largest of the Fiji islands, where I had business. To reach this island had taken a full day of travel from Suva, the capital. First, I had had to take a bus for an hour or two out of Suva to a landing on the Rewa River. Then I had had to take a motor launch for about three hours up the Rewa. The shores of the river, which ran through the center of a wide valley, were flat a green, like pastureland, except that here and there huge, giant, green stands of feathery bamboo 100 feet tall cut into the
horizon of the hot, cloudless, blue sky.
Once near the village, it was necessary to climb a steep, slippery bank of mud, and continue up a hillside to a cluster of Fijian bure nestled amidst breadfruit trees and coconut palms. The bure were of the old traditional kind, with thatching enclosing the house on all sides, and with the black trunk of a giant fern extending outwards at each end. To visit this village was like returning to a time centuries ago when traditional Fijian culture was the only culture present, and where men had long lived listening to drums other than the drums of money.
I had business in that village. I needed some favors from the chief, and to obtain these favors I had brought with me a whale's tooth to present. I knew the chief quite well. I had visited and stayed in the village at least a half dozen times. I had often shared yaquona with him and others in his entourage.
A whale's tooth is a sacred treasure, a ceremonial gift to be given when the giver wishes an important favor. In Fijian custom, the recipient who accepts it is obligated to do a favor for the presenter, whether that favor is requested when the tooth is presented or even many years later. One does not accept a whale's tooth from someone one does not know and trust. In old Fiji, the request made through a whale's tooth might have been that the recipient kill someone for the presenter, or perhaps give the preenter one of his daughters.
In my case, I was presenting a whale's tooth for something much less important -- simply the participation of his village in a tourism project.
After the presentation, the acceptance, and my request, the chief and I had lunch. We sat on mats of woven pandanus leaves while the women in his family brought our food. The chief seemed to me to know a great deal about the outside world, and I commented about this. As his wife set bowls of chicken stewed in coconut cream, cooked fern shoots, breadfruit, and oven-baked taro root before us, he explained how he had come to know something of the world outside Fiji.
He explained that at a time when Britain ruled Malaya and communist rebels were trying to take over that country, he had volunteered to join the British army and go to Malaya to fight.
"Do you see that lime tree over there?" he asked, pointing to a magnificent, old lime tree just at the edge of the village.
"Yes," I replied.
"When I left this village, I made a vow. I went over to that lime tree -- which was much smaller in those days -- and picked two limes. I put the limes in my shirt pocket, and I made a vow."
I listened attentively.
"When we got to Malaya, we were sent up-country into the jungle. We were attacked by the rebels, but we outnumbered them by many men. When I shot and killed my first enemy soldier, I fulfilled my vow. I went up to his body, and with my thumbs I dug out his eyes. I squeezed the juice from my limes onto them, and then I ate those eyeballs, because I knew that when I had done this I would be a stronger warrior. And I was. I had his mana. I killed many, many rebels in that war before I came back several years later to this village."
And so years later this story was my answer to my student's question about why people eat other people. It is not for food, I explain. This is usually done -- in those few places on earth that still practice cannibalism -- for "mana" or whatever name the locals give to the essence of the warrior. The belief is that if you eat a part of a great warrior, you will gain a bit of warrior greatness yourself.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
I Was Hot, Hot, Hot Today !
Last night as I lay in bed thinking about the class and their need to study science, a lot of ideas came trickling through my mind. I have been so many places and done so many thi8ngs in my 71 years that I have a lot of true stories top tell my students about what I have seen and experienced.
Today, since they had seen a DVD with spectacular footage of volcanoes, earthquakes, and since I was given the instructions to "teach them science," I decided to start with a short bit about the inter-relatedness of all knowledge, but giving an example from ecology. We talked about an imaginary island populated by deer, wolves, moss, grass, birds and insects. What would happen, I asked them, if Sarah Palin came flying over in a plane (or on a broomstick) and shot most of the wolves ?
They quickly realized that once the wolves were killed, the deer would have no enemies, and would multiply. They then realized that with more deer, the deer population might run out of moss and grass to eat. And then they realized that without moss and grass, many of the insects would die, which would provide a much smaller food supply for the birds, many of which would fly away to some other island.
I then moved into the word for the day, which was "viscous."
These students are"special education," which usually means that they are not very bright. They seem to be learning, however, despite this label. I don't lower standards. I just try to drum the information into their brains.
Today, since they had seen a DVD with spectacular footage of volcanoes, earthquakes, and since I was given the instructions to "teach them science," I decided to start with a short bit about the inter-relatedness of all knowledge, but giving an example from ecology. We talked about an imaginary island populated by deer, wolves, moss, grass, birds and insects. What would happen, I asked them, if Sarah Palin came flying over in a plane (or on a broomstick) and shot most of the wolves ?
They quickly realized that once the wolves were killed, the deer would have no enemies, and would multiply. They then realized that with more deer, the deer population might run out of moss and grass to eat. And then they realized that without moss and grass, many of the insects would die, which would provide a much smaller food supply for the birds, many of which would fly away to some other island.
I then moved into the word for the day, which was "viscous."
These students are"special education," which usually means that they are not very bright. They seem to be learning, however, despite this label. I don't lower standards. I just try to drum the information into their brains.
Illness at the School
I am happy to report that the young man who threw up and passed out at school two days ago (see blog entry previous to this one) seems to be okay at home or the hospital. I am not at all pleased, however, to report that another similar case occurred yesterday to a young woman. Adolescents seem to be most vulnerable to swine flu, if that is what this is. Us old farts seem to have accumulated a lot of immunity over the years because we have been exposed repeatedly to many varieties of flu. So far, none of my students seems to have contracted the disease !
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
You Never Know What Will Happen
Yesterday I left my classroom at the end oif the day, locked the door behind me, and started towards the Principal's office to sign out. The door to the classroom right next to mione wqas open and the teacher was stranding there. Insiude I could see a row of desks abutting the wall, and in one of them was a slumped body, motionless, head on writing area. "He suddenly threw up and then he passed out," the teacher said. "Now he's unresponsive."
She had already called the emergency medics or the front office, I don't know which, and was awaiting them.
Drugs ?
I'll find out more later today. Thank goodness this has never happened to me. But you always have to be ready for anything, whether it is a fight, kids trying to start of game of craps in the back of the room, total chaos, or whatever.
She had already called the emergency medics or the front office, I don't know which, and was awaiting them.
Drugs ?
I'll find out more later today. Thank goodness this has never happened to me. But you always have to be ready for anything, whether it is a fight, kids trying to start of game of craps in the back of the room, total chaos, or whatever.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Student Disrespect and Cruelty
I am 71 years old. In the last two years I have gone from being able to walk and run to the point of scarcely being able to walk. I have to take a vicodine in the morning before I go to school. Then I can sit on my butt most of the day until it is time to leave. My condition is progressively becoming worse, and I hope that I will be able to last another 5 weeks with the students I now have before taking a rest at home for a few weeks and having my hip replacement operation.
I have been substitute teaching in the same school now for about 2 1/2 years, with about six months off last year when I came back from West Africa and became seriously ill (not from the traveling).
I have a good relationship with lots of my students, who see me as someone who has wanted to help them in their education. A few troublemakers, however, dislike me -- and I have to admit I dislike them, too.
Here and there any teacher meets nasty students. I haven't had encounters with many, but on about four occasions I have been the object of their nastiness.
The first occasion that comes to mind was about a year ago, when I was walking down a crowded hallway -- I did not use a cane at that time the way I now do -- and someone deliberately tried to trip me. I couldn't tell who had tried, but I absolutely knew it was on purpose. The attempt, fortunately, was not successful.
Another time when I was going to a deli across the street from the school, I said "Hello" in passing to a student and he began talking to me. I did not understand what he was saying, so I told him I had not understood. He repeated something. Again I did not understand and told him so. When he spoke a third time I realized he was talking nonsense syllables in oder to irritate me.
A third -- and perhaps the most peculiar example of student disrespect came to me just a few days ago when I was leaving my classroom. These days I walk with a cane. I don't use a wheelchair. The hall wasn't crowded and a student came by me. I nodded and said, "Hello." He turned and came back to me and got in my face and said "Hello." I said "How are you doing today ?" He said, "How are you doing today?" I said, "Never mind." He said, "Never mind." Then he added. "You need someone to push your wheelchair." And he quickly walked away.
All this, I suppose, comes with the territory. In a school of 2,000 students, many from the ghetto, there are bad to be a few angry, prejudiced nut cases and bad eggs. The key to success and survival seems to me to be not allowing anyone to push your buttons.
I have been substitute teaching in the same school now for about 2 1/2 years, with about six months off last year when I came back from West Africa and became seriously ill (not from the traveling).
I have a good relationship with lots of my students, who see me as someone who has wanted to help them in their education. A few troublemakers, however, dislike me -- and I have to admit I dislike them, too.
Here and there any teacher meets nasty students. I haven't had encounters with many, but on about four occasions I have been the object of their nastiness.
The first occasion that comes to mind was about a year ago, when I was walking down a crowded hallway -- I did not use a cane at that time the way I now do -- and someone deliberately tried to trip me. I couldn't tell who had tried, but I absolutely knew it was on purpose. The attempt, fortunately, was not successful.
Another time when I was going to a deli across the street from the school, I said "Hello" in passing to a student and he began talking to me. I did not understand what he was saying, so I told him I had not understood. He repeated something. Again I did not understand and told him so. When he spoke a third time I realized he was talking nonsense syllables in oder to irritate me.
A third -- and perhaps the most peculiar example of student disrespect came to me just a few days ago when I was leaving my classroom. These days I walk with a cane. I don't use a wheelchair. The hall wasn't crowded and a student came by me. I nodded and said, "Hello." He turned and came back to me and got in my face and said "Hello." I said "How are you doing today ?" He said, "How are you doing today?" I said, "Never mind." He said, "Never mind." Then he added. "You need someone to push your wheelchair." And he quickly walked away.
All this, I suppose, comes with the territory. In a school of 2,000 students, many from the ghetto, there are bad to be a few angry, prejudiced nut cases and bad eggs. The key to success and survival seems to me to be not allowing anyone to push your buttons.
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