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.

Dogcity

Warning: This post could be boring for people that don't like dogs, or even for people who like dogs, or for dogs who don't like people, people that don't like people that like dogs, or any other such iteration. Talking about your dogs for 1100 words could be like talking about your dreams for 550 words, but I'm gonna do it anyways 

Since moving to Atlanta Maya and I have started to become dog people. We’ve now fostered two pups, a sweet lab-possibly pit mix named Mushy and a hyper little corgi mix, sweet, but often difficult dog called Gulliver. I always knew it before caring for dogs, but dog people really are (pun intended) a different breed. It really is like having a kid and when you have a dog you enter into a whole new world of spoken and unspoken agreements, talking to people you never would have talked to before, not talking to people you would have talked to before (although you’ll know everything about their dog, including their name, and nothing about the person), having constant distractions, dealing with new annoyances and surprises, and having a weird sense of protection and pride. Inversely, when people would comment on how sweet Gulliver was, I would complain about his constant nipping, difficult behavior around other dogs (I hated being “that” dog owner), food aggression, constant choking/tug on his leash during walks, pooping and peeing in the house, and his occasional barking. Having puppies is harder, but gives you even more to talk about and stops 50% of people in their tracks. And it seems like 50% of my new neighborhood are dog owners. I know every little side street and many houses by their dogs (rather than the actual people living there). We’ve enjoyed the challenge and will be adopting our own soon as the fostering thing has its obvious obstacle of getting too attached to a dog.

The fun part of having a dog all made sense with a dog like Mushy, who despite crapping all of over the place and constantly eating our shoes, and being generally a mess, was just so loving, kind, funny, and obedient for a pup, that you couldn’t help but love him. He also had a black fur coat (picture below) with white paws and legs that people use to ask jokingly if he had stepped in a bucket of paint. Gulliver, the little corgi sheep herder dog, was a different story and things ended tragically yesterday. We knew from very early on that he was food aggressive – if you pet him when he’s eating he will bite you. Very strange as he was otherwise seemingly 99% friendly, but it seems like he probably came from some difficult past of fighting for food or some other trauma. The rescue group we are fostering through told us just to ignore the issue but we couldn’t help ourselves. We wanted to help him get better. So two days ago, what started as a simple exercise and attempt to train him ended with a big fight, Gulliver snapping, pooping and peeing everywhere, frantically running around the house and knocking things over with me chasing after him, and then eventually, attacking me, and me losing a chunk of my palm.

Hours later he was still acting strange around me and avoiding me. This, after 6 weeks of friendship, sleeping with him in the bed (he was the best cuddler), and an otherwise very normal dog with a sweet comportment. It all changed in a matter of minutes, and so, it pains me that we had to move foster homes for him for his remaining two days before he gets shipped up North (as all of the dogs in the rescue group do – apparently there’s way more strays here and way more people looking for rescues up North). I ended up at the doctor’s office and am now on antibiotics and had to get a tetanus shot (thankfully the dog had his rabies vaccine). The big empty space where his crate and toys were and the left behind month’s accumulation of dust leaves me feeling depressed. We’ll take a month or so off now before the next dog. On a lighter note:

What’s in a name?

Mushy actually came to us as Tyler or Taylor, some really waspy sounding stupid human name. First of all, naming your dog after a human seems silly to me and incorrect. One exception would be a famous person, like Larry Bird, that’s just funny. Frank on the other hand, not funny, kind of weird. Another exception would be something truly unusual, like Moishe, an orthodox Jewish name. And that’s what we first went with for whatever reason with Mushy (and despite the fact that we were fostering him for just a number of weeks and probably had no right to rename him…not that he really probably knew any of his names). Attending Shabbos dinner at an Orthodox household we decided to ask how the Orthodox care for dogs. Do they feed them Kosher food? Do they name them Jewish names? Do they even have dogs? Apparently naming a dog a Jewish name is fine, according to our host, “as long as it’s not something biblical and holy like Mosha, that would be disrespectful.” “Oh that’s interesting” we commented. We kept quiet after that.

Around this same time a small child had seen Moishe in our neighborhood, as he was called then, and not knowing the name, said, “oh Mushy?” and I had just said, “yes, Mushy.” Roll with the punches you know? After the night at the Orthodox home, we actually just started calling him Mushy. People loved it. He was Mushy. It was perfect. Not all dogs are so lucky with names. Where ever he is now, with whoever, and whatever they call him (Tyler, Tailor, or Frank), he will always be Mushy (just as Jewish people who convert to Christianity are still Jewish).

Gulliver had a decent name to begin with and maybe we just didn’t love him enough to even think of our own name for him. We occasionally called him “Gus” or “Gully” or “Bob Barker” when he was annoying us. It’s challenging when you know you’ll have him for just a few weeks (a few turned into 6) and that there’s actually pretty much zero need to rename dogs unless the inherited named is so clearly off and horrible. But it is funny that people feel this need to rename their dogs to really make it their own.

I have a burning desire to name our next dog Orville Redenbacher, after the popcorn, but Maya only likes Orville. Ultimately, the dog’s personality, physicality, and story of how we are introduced to him or her, should probably matter more. But I want to call him Orville Redenbacher. 

Typical day at work, Gulliver at my feet

Maya and Mushy napping

Mushy was cared of car rides

Very mushy dog indeed

Gulliver getting muddy

Small but surprisingly strong, with sharp teeth 

A New City

Our new place

Our new dining room

The view from the back porch

Atlanta so far

Atlanta is interesting and different so far from other places I’ve lived. It’s Southern and it’s not. People here make a clear distinction between ITP and OTP, in reference to whether you live inside or outside the perimeter. The city’s horrible traffic, sprawling suburbs, and lack of any major natural geographic feature give many visitors a negative impression. Someone coming to Buckhead or Alphretta though is only seeing one side of Atlanta, and I would argue an ugly side. Where Maya and I found a place, Lake Claire/Candler Park, we are ITP and there are a lot of funky, cool neighborhoods around. While walking is not that easy, biking short distances is very doable and there lots of cool unique independent businesses.

I was recnetly invited to join the people sitting next to me 5 year old daughter/grand daughter's tea party birthday at Dr. Bombay's, a fine local establishment 

The cost of living is so much cheaper than in the North. In my neighborhood there’s a few “universal” free library mail boxes were people can trade books among themselves. This is the type of place where people know their neighbors, their neighbor’s dogs, and people greet each other. That being said, in Atlanta in general, neighborhoods seem to change every few blocks and a safe nice neighborhood can turn to not so safe very quickly. You kind of have to figure out the lay of the land.

The three biggest surprises for me so far have been the amount of people here that are not actually from here (or from Georgia even), the amount of hills here, and the amount of green space. I have at least 5 parks within a mile or so walk. Not so far away is the Candler Park executive golf course, 9 wholes $9, not bad. The other day I say a few dudes playing behind me, one holding a 6 pack of Killians, one walking a big ol’ black lab, and a third one carried his guitar. One of them seemed to actually be playing golf.

Just a few blocks away from me is the Lake Claire Land Trust. The land trust is a crazy vestige of the 1960’s – community owned plots of land with small, shared raised beds for growing food, walking paths and a pond, and their very own emu (Lou). They have a famous bi-monthly drum circle that keeps the neighbors up but I think is pretty cool and a lot of people actually go to it. They also have a sweet playground and some type of natural homemade sauna they've constructed.

We've been fostering puppies as a way to try out dog ownership and get the dogs out of the high kill shelters here (a big problem in Georgia) and I walked one of the dogs the other day to the land trust. I guess it shouldn't have been surprising the he didn't seem to like Lou the emu. The dog would not stop barking (the emu was not phased). What was more surprising though was the fact that at 7:30 Monday morning when I was leaving there was a young dude blasting music (something ironic like the Tragically Hip) in the parking lot from what looked like his mom’s van. He had a friend with him who stood crouched over just outside the van vomiting as the dude explained that they like to come to the land trust after a night of recording music to drop their empties at the land trust’s recycling. Yeah, it’s an interesting neighborhood here. 

Mushy, a black lab mutt. Our first and so far best foster pup

Mushy running after chicks at the Lake Claire Land Trust

Best of 2014

About a month ago I went to Jeckyll Island. It’s a small island off the coast of Georgia. I was there for the Georgia organics conference with Café Campesino and still can’t forget the feeling of 70 delicious roasted oysters in my happy stomach. But it was more than just that.

The sun was setting as a small crowd gathered outside stand around getting ready for the oyster showdown. We stood around the tables as enormous buckets of steaming fresh oysters were put out beside the fresh lemons, hot sauce, and crackers. When we started eating it was so delicious it was like what I imagine crack to be, you couldn't stop. Everyone quickly became disgustingly wet and gross from shucking oysters. There were flies everywhere, biting us, and it just didn't seem to matter. One guy I saw the next day had red bumps covering both of his arms and at first I thought he had an allergic reaction until he reminded about the flies. Nothing could stop us. We socialized, joked, and made friends and I'm pretty sure everyone left that table in a great mood. 

Jackyll Island just before a big rainstorm came in