Returning to the familiar

              I always enjoy going back to Vermont. It's beautiful really any time of year and I think more and more about living there again some day; especially, since every year I return it seems a bit more distant. The divide between my high school acquaintances, friends, and favorite places widen. Walking on Church Street I half want to see old friends and half don't. This year for example, I saw Nick Obie, a perennially awkward encounter - more on that later.  There are other things about coming home that also feel more familiar. My parent’s “Curb Your Enthusiasm” esque squabbles for example, are ridiculous, and I often wonder how common my experience is with my parents. 

               My dad was talking about this guy who made a table they were going to pick up and he was insisting to my mom:  "I want you to shake his hand when you see him." "Ok" my mother said in a rather nonchalant manner. My dad continued: "No, I mean, when you meet him you need to see his hand." My mom said "I don't wanna shake his hand," but he persisted, "there's a reason the company's called 'Big paws,' you’ve gotta see this." All I could do was shake my head.

               On our drive to Boston to meet the rest of the family for Thanksgiving my parents easily spent 15 minutes arguing about where to eat and get off the highway for dinner. As my mom fumbled with the Road Ahead app and my dad complained about every option she mentioned, we got further and further from West Lebanon (the "big" rest stop). My dad kept complaining about how we should have stopped there and how, as he originally suggested, we should have gone to “Angelinos.” "It would have so much quicker and right off the highway." "Dad," I tell him, "it's D'angelos" to which he repeated, "What's the name of it? It's not Angelinos?"  He then goes off on this story of the time he called up Angelinos because he was disappointed with his sandwich. "You have to be careful at Angelinos, if you ask for a Philly cheese steak sandwich they don't put anything on it. I called them up, just said there's nothing in there. And the manager just told me that's their Philly steak sandwich. I had to tell them typically there's mushrooms and peppers."  

               This time around Vermont I also had an awkward encounter with an old high school acquaintance: Nick Obie. Every time I see this guy, which isn't very often (maybe once every other year) it's awkward. Which is better than it used to be when I actually held a grudge against him. The awkwardness stems from a story that happened over 5 years ago that Nick rightfully still feels bad about and for which he continues to apologize every time I see him.

               It was the winter after I'd unfortunately landed back home with not much of a life after I graduated from college. My parents were heading out for the weekend and my dad jokingly said to me like he used to in high school: "don't throw any parties," and then added, "not that you could anyways since you don't really have friends around here anymore." I actually was angered by this, what I felt was a misplaced joke, and told my friends that I was going to show him and prove him wrong. I would throw a party just to spite him.   The funny part was that in the end he was right. I think I maybe had 8-10 people over and one of them, Nick, was more a friend of a friend that I did not invite (despite what you may say Ryan).

               Early on in the night, maybe around 10 pm he disappeared and after shortly confirming that he wasn't hooking up with one of the two girls there (that would have been surprising anyways) we learned he was in the downstairs bathroom. I asked if he was ok; after all I only observed him drink one or two beers. He replied that he was fine and that he'd be out in a minute. An hour later he was still there. I mistakenly ended up going to bed forgetting about him. The next morning he was gone but with a trace: Correction- a large trace.  The porcelain toilet seat was somehow chipped, the toilet paper holder was torn out of the wall with the actual bar itself missing, and bloodstains were spattered around the walls of the bathroom.

               To this idea I have no idea what happened in there. None of it makes sense. Obie was not answering his phone and no one else knew what happened either. He did actually go by the house supposedly with his dad afterwards while I was gone but determined he couldn't fix it and ran away, again ignoring my communications.   When my parents came home I had no way to explain it. My dad was furious and demanded to see Nick but of course that was impossible.   I spent so much time and energy trying to track this guy down to no avail. I demanded compensation (it was actually several hundred dollars worth of repairs because the whole wall had to be redone) and couldn't believe I had to take the blame for him. 

               I ran into him finally about 6-8 months later and he was very apologetic and ashamed. He actually wanted me to punch him in the face. I have to admit it was tempting but I knew it wouldn't solve anything. Honestly, he's kind of a sad figure.  Over 5 years later he is still ashamed and embarrassed when we unexpectedly see each other but that’s how Burlington is, it’s a small town.

...Home is where the heart is

Herb's 2014 garden pride: Giant squash to be brought to the family Thanksgiving in the North Shore

Our annual trip to Costco to buy a bunch of things I don't need at great prices

Ian's 30th Birthday, out in Burlington. How did his little sister become 21?

A one week vacation well earned

On my way to Vermont and I finally have a moment to breath and look back on the last few months. In summary: They feel like a blur. My feet got used to standing for so many hours at a time, after losing a bunch of weight originally, I gained some back, and the job has gotten slightly easier and more regular. The days don't drag on so much anymore. And yet still, I find myself leaving work at 6 or 7, potentially coming home to walk the dog or cook, and then getting back to grading and lesson planning almost immediately. Besides soccer once a week which just ended (our team won the championship!), Frisbee once a week, and the occasional event or hang out with friends, my life is school and Maya.

There was a time when I lived in Boston where if I wasn’t doing something after work I felt bored. “Just” coming home and cooking a dinner would be pretty disappointing. Sleep is one of the most exciting things to look forward to these days. I don’t have time to develop deeper friendships and as I get older it seems like becoming more boring is kind of just inevitable. Staying out past midnight would be a rare occurrence, as is having more than two drinks. Mostly I have a mountain of grading to do that never seems to go away and there is one more parent I really need to call. There’s a student that responded with a threat the other day when I told him I’d have to cut his headphones if I saw them again after the 6^th time that class. These are thoughts that preoccupy too much of my mind these days.

As for teaching I still don’t know if I can go on doing it after this year. Everyone keeps telling me it gets easier. Part of me likes the new challenge and I am enjoying making some real connections with students, many of whom are good people, as well as re-learning American history (does anyone actually remember learning about Andrew Jackson, the War of 1812, and the Articles of Confederation)? Another part of my really dislikes the amount of effort I put in for the results that I see. I can repeat something simple out loud 5 times and they still can’t repeat it back to me. This job carries tremendous stress as even at 16-17 years old so many of them act like little children. I feel like a father sometimes when students yell to me: “Tamika hit me. Mr. Kessel can you tell Shawn to give me back my pencil. Wah wah wah.” I thought I was signing up for something different with highschool.

Mostly what I’ve seen so far on the academic front has been surprising, disappointing, and surprisingly disappointing. Students are incredibly concerned about their grades and will not do anything unless it’s for a grade. I have to at least pretend I am grading even the “warm up” activities and they don’t seem to see any problem with getting answers off the internet (their phone), or copying entire homework assignments word for word. I don’t remember doing that when I was in high school but I feel like this is 75% of what I get (or more). Then again, since only about 33% of students do their homework it’s hard to gauge whether it would be better or worse than fewer students doing homework. But at this point homework and grading drowns me and I am convinced now that technology has made us dumber and original thought is being stifled.

They eat junk all day long and seem to throw their garbage on the floor like there’s nothing wrong with it (see pic. below). It’s hard to believe how hard it is to catch which students are doing it. I also loose about 5-6 pages out of the textbooks every day which fall out in loose papers because of the condition of the books. Students will throw the books and treat them horribly. I've asked for new books several times and we don't have enough for everyone. Classic resource-poor charter school criticism. I’ve learned to not let my adrenaline rise as much with this sort of thing because stress is not helpful but this all certainly makes me feel old. I may even have a few more grays than when I started. 

Mostly I’m tired, exhausted, all of the time. Needing to tell the same students over and over again to come prepared for class takes a mental toll. I re-wrote out classroom procedures so that when they arrive they automatically put out their notebook, pens, paper, and homework; this has had very little effect, although the structure has improved a little bit and helped keep them in their seats. When I first heard most teachers gave assigned seating and bathroom passes at high school I was surprised. Now I see it is necessary and as much as I might want to make my classroom more democratic and free, this is a population who is not used to that sort of freedom and actually wants/needs to be told exactly what to do all of the time. I can’t just tell them to write a paragraph about something. I actually have to tell them how many sentences to write in that paragraph. Very few students can think independently or synthesize information in any sort of meaningful way. This is a prime example of how the education system failed these students up to this point. They've never been taught how to learn.

To add to all of this, I’ve somehow agreed to coach the soccer team and help kickstart the new soccer program. This will be the first year the school has had a program. I have no idea how I am going to manage it all.

Better rest up and enjoy Thanksgiving…

Some other highlights over the last few weeks I may or may not care about someday looking back:

·       The best dog ever in Sherlock

·       A “Tour de Farm” bike trip in Southern Georgia with Café Campesino (I sometimes miss that job!)

·       Atlanta Hawks game

·       Movember mustache

·       Cabbagetown Stomp and Chomp festival

·       Objects thrown at me from students over the last few weeks including: Apple, orange, muffin (not in that order)

·       My first pep rally

·       Southern Highschool football (our team is not very good but it’s still pretty fun to watch)

·       Nigerian Air BnBers

*   Apple pickin' in North Georgia

*   Hilton Head long weekend vacation with friends from Boston

*   Trip to Northern Minnesota for Pete's wedding!

The Rural Georgia telephone museum in Leslie, one of our random stops on Tour de Farm

Hawks Game!

Southern Virginia trip with old AJWS friends, one week before I became a teacher. Thank god we didn't lose Sherlock who ran away for 30 minutes before finally coming back from who knows where

Apple Pickin

Hilton Head

Not my finest night at mini golf but at least I beat Maya

A corporate someone pulling the students from class to sell something to them in the cafeteria 

My classroom at the end of the day

We needed a doll for the "American Dream" Halloween costume we put together. Guess which one we chose? Yes the interracial baby 

Chomp & Stomp Bluegrass band. Chili was gone almost before we even got there at 1

They stole my chocolate milk

Now it's personal. I've been learning a lot about my students over the last few months and it seems like there's very little they wouldn't do. It's been a bit disappointing and shocking to see some of their actions. If I leave anything on my desk for more than a few minutes it's gone. A few students have commented that I really should be locking things away (as if to imply it's my fault...isn't that like telling a woman that it's her fault when she gets raped? What? Too far? Ok but this still seems like a ridiculous problem).

But the problem is just that, they are mostly stupid things that aren't even worth that much. Since I did not get a key to my desk draws I would have to buy a locker of some sort and it's just not worth it for chocolate milk, apple, all of the pencils and pens, iphone charger, sharpies, and even my whole puncher, which have been stolen. The teacher's edition of our book was one that hurt, but I luckily have one other copy that I keep at home. Maybe that student will learn more now. I joked to one class that I suspect could have some of these thieves that I'm surprised no one has taken my computer yet when I turn my head for one second.  They all think it's funny.

Another thing that's somewhat humorous is everyone calling me "Kessler." I'm not sure where it started but even my computer say's "Kessler" when I open it. I guess no one actually looked to see what my name was and correcting them seems to lag behind anything changing. The students have it right but with their accent it sounds more like "mista Kessel mista Kessel" all day over and over. What a strange new identity I've taken on.

There is a certain fun and dramatic act to teaching that I enjoy. But I am mostly just too exhausted and overworked to enjoy it most days. I can't imagine what normal, if there is one, teaching looks like and whether I'd want to make this a career yet.

Currently, the work load seems unbearable and never ending. I can't believe we waste so much money in education on stupid things like technology (ok technology is not stupid) but just having two teachers in a classroom of 35 instead of one would make so much more of a difference. What is the issue with this obvious observation besides payroll being expensive? Why have we not fixed our broken school system? Oh man, I sound like a broken record at a PTA conference.

Finally, very early on I've started to feel this "going through the motions" type thing that is so common in the education system. Friday I was given a special "English language learner" plan with a specific students accommodations because he is a Spanish speaker in the home. Previously I thought his English was alright but his grade is not very good at all in my class and maybe he's understanding less than I think. At the same time, getting this just now two months into the school year with no co-teacher, I don't know what I am going to do differently for this young man. I have 33 other students to worry about in his class and no extra time to print him special flash cards or anything. I feel like someone somewhere is checking a box that say's: "special English language learner taken care of!"

There's tons of acronyms in this industry, even more so than in others I think. "IEPs" (Individualized Education Plan") and 504's (students on medication) are common and again I wonder how much their "accommodation" plans really do anything without the resources to really accommodate. A few weeks ago I went to a "co-teaching" workshop for my one class with those special ed. students and my accompanying co-teacher. The intentions were good and the presenters were trying from what I could tell, but you could also tell that no one really wanted to be there. They let us go early at 2 PM to go home and again I had this sense of "check. Box being checked" with everyone going home early and being happy but also knowing that probably nothing was going to change when they got back to their classrooms.

But more so than the "motions" and going through them, the thing that has me most down was my experience with my first real test given to my class. Besides the ridiculously low scores, something like 37 Juniors in the class cheated and besides being disappointed and frustrating, like the chocolate milk being stolen right off of my desk, I just felt taken advantage of. I created multiple tests, had them seating in different places, and while no one ever got an answer key, someone passed on the questions (probably taking a picture on their phone...a problem we never had to deal with in our days).

Drowning

Is how I've been feeling with my new job. I literally have no life now but school. I haven't worked this hard in a really really long time. Maybe since pulling all nighters in college, but that was more due to procrastinating and beer I think than just sheer work load.

I've actually lost about 10 pounds or so since starting this new job. Could be the constant time on my feet moving around rather than being at a desk. Could be the lack of sleep. Could be the stress and pressure to bring students from a remarkably far place to knowing and more importantly (and I'm discovering more difficult) retaining something about American History. Or it could be a combination of all of those things.

One thing is for sure: I feel needed and despite the challenges and exhaustion that part feels good. In my sales work, the biggest thing I've always struggled with is the feeling sometimes that it just doesn't matter. I could stop working for a week and not that much would change. The feeling of being needed at work directly relates to our sense of self-worth or value. I now have 170 students dependent on me every day and I have more work (that is not just self generated) than I could ever possibly have time to finish in any given day or even week.

Working in business and doing sales or marketing I would have days where I just struggled to not feel parasitic. Such a big part of the job and justifying your existence relies in this idea that what you are doing is different and important. That your business actually has some impact in the world, let alone promotes social values. So you have to convince people they have a need they might not know about because, for the majority of cases, if businesses just relied on people who have a problem and are not already addressing it (looking for a solution), that would go broke. While I think salespeople do play an important role in our society, occasionally actually helping people and delivering good information at the same time, other times I can see why the profession is not very respected. But the problem is it sometimes doesn't matter whether you are good or bad in that job, people still treat you the same shitty way.

The teaching industry of course has it's whole host of problems too, but everybody reacts similarly to when I tell them about what I am doing: with admiration and respect. My only hope is that, as everyone keeps telling me, this will get easier and I won't have to take work home with my every night. On top of my normal work, I am studying to get ready for a World History certification am I supposed to have (even though I'm not teaching that course currently) and a teaching certification through an alternative certification program working at nights and on weekends.

Feel like I might crash without the sight of Thanksgiving (1 week off!) and Xmas (2 whole weeks off -yeh!) off in the distance.

Room 147

I've started a new job. Like my father I am now Mr. Kessel. Overnight I moved into the school because of a last minute departure of the previous teacher. I'm teaching six sections of US history, one of which is about half special Ed, and one if which is an honors course. To describe it all in one word after my first three days, overwhelming. 
 
This is a mixed charter school. I have 11th graders, almost all black. In my first day I asked the students to talk about their own history and two kids told me they got kicked out of their old school for fighting...but it's not that type of school. 

Two things that have really struck me about the first days is how tired feet my feet are. You are on your feet so much, and while you can teach sitting in a chair or from the desk, it's harder to "manage" the classroom from there (that's the lingo everybody in the industry uses, rather than control, or "discipline.") The other thing is how many tress are killed every day at schools with how much paper is printed and wasted. It's crazy, anything I do I have to make 160 copies of and often times the students barely look at the materials. 

Other than that, there are interruptions every 15 minutes from the intercom (which I learned the embarrassing way is a two way speaker), students chatting every 30 seconds, sleeping every 5 minutes, grooming their hair, texting on their phones, or doing something that they aren't supposed to be doing constantly. You really do have to have eyes in the back of your head.

Students tend to remember more recent history way more than older, even if it is more important history. I suppose this is not surprising. In general, I feel like trying to teach history is like sneaking vegetables into a child's food. Most students are not very interested in the topic and you always have to find ways to make it fun and engaging while connecting back to the actual standards and material. 

This is probably the most challenging thing I've done thus far in my life. 

Summer in the ATL

It’s been awhile since I've written an update so I’ll recap some of what’s happened so far in this very busy summer:

1. Heat: Hotlanta has arrived. 90’s at night, 80’s during the day
2. Bandu Khan’s: Maya and I met up with a college friend- an Indian guy and his Pakistani wife. The Pakistani wife loves this restaurant back in her country and when they opened an Atlanta branch they had to take us. You know when you are the only non-ethnic person in one of these restaurants that it’s an authentic place; although I suppose the long tunics and hijabs on the women also would have confirmed that. This was by far one of the spiciest foods I've eaten since a funeral in Cameroon where I had potatoes that actually made me cry. For desert we had Falooda – a pink and green sickly sweet ice cream (more like cough syrup medicine) with fish balls, noodles, nuts, gummy bears, and whatever else they throw in there. Even Abdallah, our Saudi Arabian Air B&B guest who came with us (he stayed with us for almost the whole month of June), couldn't eat more than a few bites. Our friends referred to this dish simply as “heavy.” I think heavy in this case means “bad” and not worth it at $5 a pop.
3. Café Campesino, the local Fair Trade coffee roaster I work for here, does a lot of environmental events as either a sponsor or coffee vendor. Bicycle Ride Across Georgia (BRAG) at one point had over 2,000 riders but is now down to merely 600 (still a pretty big number I think)! Most of the riders were middle aged with small children with a fair share of old timers too. We set up camp each night and hung out at random rural Southern Georgia high schools. After only 3 days of the week long trip, I got the idea and like I had enough. Riding 50-70 miles a day in the Georgia summer through pretty boring scenario was an exercise in monotony. At one point I had several flat tires in a row and a SAG (people that drive around picking up injured riders or people with equipment issues) picked me up. I learned a nice local limerick from my driver about Metter, one of the town’s we camped in:

I met her in Metter

Had to go to Winder to finder her

And Decatur to date her

And finally to Tucker

To meet her parents 

At one point I thought I was back in Africa when I looked around some rural towns where Whites were definitely the minority. Jesus signs were everywhere as well “God’s convenience store” type places. There was even boiled peanuts for sale! I really didn't know this was a Southern U.S. thing, although I wonder if it came first to Africa or here. Either way I loved it.

I also got to do one day of Paddle Georgia, going about 15 miles down the Chattahoochee River outside of Atlanta. This was a blast and really made me want to get my own boat someday. What was crazy about both of these events was the “scene” of gear and socializing of people that are so intensely into these sports. I could have imagined these scenes but being around them in-person was different. It’s like a whole new world exists of weekend passion below the surface of what we normally just see in the 9-5 work world, sometimes from some very boring people.

4. Bachelor party in West Virginia for my friend Pete from College: I won’t go into too much detail here but suffice it to say it was every bit as awesome as you would expect. This was actually my first Bachelor party. Camping, white water rafting, corn hole, partying, “late” night partying at the third best place in Charlotte NC, and even a scrappy ultimate Frisbee thrown in.
5. Lots of other trips out of town including Memorial day week to NYC for a wedding and trip to Boston, Raleigh/Durham for a graduation, Vermont 4^th of July (best place to be in the summer for sure), Louisville for a wedding, camping in North GA with a 12 mile one day hike to Springer Mountain; the start of the Appalachian trail.

All of this was between adopting a new dog (Sherlock), a new soccer amateur league we’ve joined, our first garden (surprising amount of work), studying for some tests, a new Jewish class, new ATL friends, and a very busy new job. 

Dogwood Festival - early summer in ATL

Soon to be married P-Christ in West Virginia

Maiden Journey of Cafe Campesino delivery transit

Titus' mom had us till the land in their Hampton's Home late May

Maya's Dad takes us to Coney Island

Paddle Georgia "River Rat"

Maya's first round of golf. A tough and often unrewarding new endeavor for her

Springer Mountain, 12 miles in a day to reach the beginning of the AT with our new dog Sherlock!

World Cup, USA-Belgium from Americus, GA

Camel's Hump VT

The Dicklane Velodrome in ATL

Seedpod friend's wedding in Louisville last weekend

Stop by Maker's Mark Kentucky Bourbon on our way home

Paying it ____ward

Backwards
Recently at a grocery store parking lot we tied the dog outside for a few minutes while buying a plant and coming out got yelled at by an older gentleman for not taking care of our dog in a place where dogs get stolen. He wasn't just trying to give us advice he was actually upset and it seemed like an odd way to pay it forward. He continued scolding us as we moved away from him. But that wasn't nearly as bad as the other form of pay it "backwards" from that day.

First, a little background behind these notes posted below. I was parking in downtown Atlanta and had squeezed into a tight space (a little over the yellow paint on the side, but not blocking anyone or anything) in front of a person who parked in a way that took up two spots. I got back to my car and found the note below on my windshield. It took me a minute to piece together why there was two different hand writings on each side of the note and why there was so much spite coming from people I'd never even met. I learned that the first message here came from someone living in the residence next to the parking space. Without the "moron" part it actually doesn't seem so bad. The second message on the back side of the paper is from the person who parked in the two spots and assumed that the car in front of them (me) had written the message and was responding in a nice cursive, nasty manner.

These people may need some communication training

Forward
We've been doing Air BnB for awhile and having a pretty good experience with it. Last week was no exception with a couple we hosted with a German Shepard (I know, sorry, another dog story). At one point the dog look like she needed to pee (the owners had been out for many hours) and without thinking (or putting on a collar) I opened the door. The dog bolted, and I mean bolted. I tracked her for about 10 minutes, each time trying to get closer before she dashed off terrified and unfamiliar with the neighborhood into the dark dark night. And this German Shepard was way too fast for me to catch. As she invaded neighbor's backyards and made a scene people started coming out and helping me find her. After an hour we had 3-4 cars, and probably 10 people on feet trying to spot her. No one could get close to her, not even with a piece of steak. This dog was crazy. At that point of course with my tail between my legs I called the owners to tell them what happened. I was pretty sure I'd be kicked off Air BnB forever, especially when the dog ran out onto Dekalb Ave. where cars fly at ridiculous speeds and the dog almost caused an accident.

In the end the owners came and over a mile from my house, an exhausted and bloody footed dog (apparently her nails were so long and she doesn't walk enough or something) was finally coaxed into coming home. People put down whatever they were doing to come to their neighbors aid. I actually might have lost some almost complete strangers' dog without their help. I was pretty scared.

It's kind of amazing how people can be so good and so bad to each other.