Buckhead Blues

A lot of people that visit Atlanta come for a business meeting or some type of conference and will invariably end up in Buckhead, my least favorite part of Atlanta. Buckhead is notorious for awful traffic, being a high rise concrete jungle, having to valet parking unnecessarily, offering more strip clubs than you could possibly visit in a weekend, and being full of rich snobby people (it's where Justin Beiber moved). For some people, this is where they get their highly inaccurate opinion of Atlanta. From a simple Google search:

"Exceptional shopping and dining within a sophisticated urban atmosphere, Buckhead Atlanta offers distinctive retail stores, upscale restaurants and affordable..."

As much as I try to avoid the area and it takes me a good 25 minutes to get over there, for one reason or another I'll end up on that side of town from time to time. Last weekend with my Air BnB guest we had decided to check out Prohibition, one of Atlanta's premiere speakeasies. This was after I had gone to a "Jews and Drink" event at the Chabad In-Town earlier that week and listened to a talk from a mixologist from Bacardi who recommend the place.

Of course I did zero research and just went straight there which was problematic since I couldn't find "there." There's no sign just an old school phone booth with no instructions. Apparently you need a code to get in, adding to the supposed "secret-ness" or "coolness" of the place. A women then approached and put her finger on a small detector on the wall and all of the sudden an opening door is revealed (I am so not "in"). I was like "oh great we'll just follow her in." She actually turns around, looks at me, and without a word closes the door in my face. This was a just a normal customer I guess. The Air BnB guy and I just start laughing, it was too ridiculous. A few moments later a guy from the bar walks out and tells me my shoes aren't classy enough so we get turned around.

Nothing from this experience, especially again it being Buckhead, surprised me. But it did give me a good chuckle. A friend recently asked me if I missed the coffee business and after thinking about it for a bit I told him, "not much." There's a lot of pretentious ridiculousness in all of the foodie related industries. It's not an awful way to make money and don't me get wrong, I appreciate good food related things as much as the next guy, but for thinking I am doing something meaningful in life, even working in Fair Trade it could be lacking. Furthermore, while I'm all for liveable wages, $15 cocktails (probably $20 or more in NYC) seem just as overpriced as the $6 pour-over coffee.

I love these recent skits giving shit to mixology in particular:
1. Portlandia: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gLxC1bJmF_U
2. Fog & Smog (the Whole Foods Parking lot dudes): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_id6i7OBj0
-> This one even has the lyrics: "What's the password...you enter through a phone booth" just like my experience!

And finally this Onion video about foodie chef Tim Allen is great.
A few unrelated pictures from the last few weeks:

My friend Marcos and I with Sherlock at Kennessaw Mountain enjoying a nice winter hike on President's day weekend.

Police "Boda Boda" in ATL. Terror alert I heard

2015

Happy New Years! 

Belated post from the Miami Phish New Years show.

A Jewel in Chattanooga

The Big News: Maya and I got engaged!

The story to be forever memorialized:

Back when I went to Vermont for Thanksgiving my parents had offered me my mother's engagement ring. This is a super fancy diamond ring, generous offer, and even up to that point I still was undecided about the whole marriage thing. I decided to take it and maybe the physical reality that it represented helped me make the decision. After I had the ring on me for awhile the whole thing felt more real to me. While I've never felt like I "had" to get married I haven't really been opposed to it either. This seemed like the right move at this point in my life.

So fast forward a few months I had just finished school and was gratefully starting Christmas break. I decided to surprise Maya and take her on a trip to Chattanooga. It's only 2 hours North of Atlanta and a great little gem of a city with a surprising amount of stuff to do.

We stayed in a very nice Air BnB apartment overlooking the Tennessee river. The place allowed dogs and had a hot tub, so it was pretty much perfect. Despite having a fever and feeling horrible we went for a hike on Lookout Mountain that was supposed to be the shorter route. We instead of course took the longer 5 mile hike, lost Sherlock for an hour, and went down what we thought was the wrong side of the mountain. We had met a strange but very friendly christian Southerner named Smith on the mountain earlier in the day. Just as we had turned around at the bottom to hike back up and down the mountain to find our car (supposedly the quickest way), we ran into Smith. Smith was our savior because he parked at the base near to us and volunteered to drive us back to the actual location of our car (about a mile down the road). As the sun set and temperatures decreased I actually felt like it was destiny.

As we walked and shared stories Smith commented on how we were a nice couple. I explained that we weren't married...yet. He responded with a "let me be the first to congratulate you." Wow. Great timing. 

So later that night as we lit the Hanukkah candles, I gave Maya a beautiful hand-made glass picture frame with a nice picture of us. On the back I wrote, "maybe Smith was on to something. Perhaps this would look better with a wedding photo here. Why don't you ask Sherlock?" While I am no expert on these matters, my understanding is that if a couple has a lovable sweet pooch they pretty much are obligated to use the dog in the engagement process. So Sherlock comes over with a scroll I've tucked into his collar. The note tells her to check her purse where I've hidden the box with the ring in it. I ended up proposing classical style on one knee on the porch outside our Air BnB overlooking the river. Maya trembled but did not hesitate to say yes! Wow. Feeling thrilled and glad to be done with that nerve wracking hopefully once-in-a-lifetime event.

The rest of the weekend was fun - we got massages and went to Rock City. I'd recommend Chattanooga to anyone who's interested in random getaways, railroads, outdoor stuff, or proposing marriage. 

Lucky guess sizing the ring

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.