Thursday, December 31, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Road Trip
School got canceled for tomorrow because Philadelphians are afraid of snow, even after two days, so I got my Vans shifts covered and am leaving bright and early tomorrow morning. Chi town hold me down. Pella, I'll be seeing ya Tuesday.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
With all that being said, I am extremely excited to come home in T minus 48 or 72 hours. Here is a list of things I would like to accomplish while home.
go sledding
build at least one snowman
bury my dog in snow
finish a season of either 2k9 or 2k10 with my brothers
beat at least one action or shooter video game with AC
get my root canal done
get my dog's leg fixed
fix my car's various issues
get a new ID
see every family member I can
fall back with my crew
stay up late and wake up early
go to church at least once with my family
eat as much mashed potatoes and corn as humanly possible
play some pick up bball
play some indoor footie
work out every morning
not freeze my tits off in the Iowa winter
maintain enough sobriety to remember at least part of my new years eve
love life
Renewal of spirits
This week has been incredible for a variety of different reasons, ranging from our full service site work party on wednesday, two half days, secret santa party, and finding a shit load of money. But by far the most important day this week was my last training workshop on Friday afternoon, with a couple representatives from the Witnesses to Hunger program that was started in our very own Philadelphia. The program was started by a professor of Drexel that was awarded a large grant to do a case study on hunger, or "food insecurity" as the government has renamed it. The professor gave a variety of mothers a camera and a few dollars compensation to record their lives of poverty and hunger, and raising children, often times without their fathers, or support from family. On Friday two of the original mothers given cameras spoke out our workshop, and shared their life struggles, which included rape, gun shot wounds, stabbings, drugs, death, and houses that are unfit for even mice to live in. It was a very sobering testimony that slapped me in the face for feeling sorry for my own financial predicaments. These women were so strong, in the face of the absolute worst odds, and came out on top.
The most important thing that I took out of the workshop, outside of just reaffirming my passion for those less fortunate then myself, was that a lot of the very same children that I attempt to reach in my school live in the exact same situations. Single parent households, drugs, violence, jail, hunger, peer pressure, and a laundry list of other obstacles all effect exactly how these kids come to school each day. It really put it into perspective just how important my work is. A lot of the boys that I talk to every day have no fathers, and I'm beginning to realize that I might be the most important male role model in their life at that particular time. It is a lot of weight to carry, especially for someone who's been going through his own shit lately, but its something that I have to learn to shoulder, cus I'm sure as shit not gonna abandon these kids too. If for nothing else, this single workshop will be the sole reason why I stick out my full year of service, in all its shittiness.
Regardless, please check out the website. www.witnessestohunger.org If you are dedicated enough to be reading my drivel of a blog that helps no one, you have absolutely no excuse not to follow the link. These are real people, with very real problems, that are getting things done on their own. Its a very important movement that is gaining a lot of momentum in Philly, and will hopefully start to catch on in other parts of the country. During the most giving season of the year, it is extremely important to be thinking about people outside of ourselves, or even family and friends, but those less fortunate then us. If for nothing else, at least have this information in the back of your head.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
A day in the life
Little did I know that people do occasionally read this blog, and even request certain types of entries. I have my first request, and will fulfill it dutifully.
On a typical weekly morning, i wake up between 5:45 - 6 and walk Winston in not much more then my pajamas and a coat. After hurrying back into the house I hope that 1. winston didn't take too long (because my morning has very little time cushion) and 2. hope my roommate hasn't gotten into the shower before me. If this happens then I eat cereal while I wait for him to drain all the hot water in a 20 minute shower of power. Then I get it in for 5 minutes of lukewarm horror. If he's not beat me, then I still only take 5 minutes, I just get heat with it.
After getting clothed I then eat my cereal in a major rush, and mentally go through everything I might possibly need for the day so I don't forget anything. Chances are if I do, I'll have to either miss the train and be late, or get sent home and be late.
Everything gathered, I powerwalk my ass off to the train 3 blocks away, because more then likely I'm playing it too close and have the strong possibility of missing my train. Which sucks. At 6:34 a.m. the sun is still down, and the wind is usually unkind to those outside their homes. By the time I reach the train my nose is running and my cheeks (both facial and glutal) are freezing. The ride from Conshohocken to the North Broad stop is about 35 minutes in duration, and good for either half sleeping, or listening to some soothing music. By the time I get to north philly I have more then likely changed my tunes up to something that will either give me swagger and confidence, or something a little bit tougher. Even though at 7 a.m. there isn't a whole hell of a lot to be worried about but kids waiting for the bus, there are always a few sheisters hanging out on North Broad and Lehigh, so I try not to fuck around on my walk from the train to the braod street subway, which thankfully is only 2 blocks. For the 10 minute ride on the subway to the Olney transportation center I'm usually just closing my eyes, but trying to wake up a littie bit. The beats usually change to something that make me smile a little bit, usually inspirational, more often then not either Brother Ali, Lupe, or P.O.S., because once I'm off the subway it gets pretty rough, and I try to stay positive as I'm daily reminded of how hard it can get for people that are born either the wrong color or into the wrong social/economic class. My bus ride from Olney to Thomas Creighton Elementary in Lawncrest is completely dedicated to mentally preparing for another worst day ever, as far as school goes. Every day I'm reminded of how badly the Philadelphia school system, as well as America's has failed those who do not have money or privilege.
After a long and mostly ridiculous 2 weeks of waiting to see where my permanent placement would be, I was positioned with the 7th grade math teacher, who happens to be brand new, and happens to to have no idea how to handle middle school students, who also happens to be a University of Michigan alumni. Dickhead. Since math and literacy are the only scores that matter in philly, they are each given 2 periods while almost nothing of other importance, (science, social studies, etc.) are merely given 1-3 periods a week tops. 3rd and 4th periods are occupied by the 306 home room class. They are by far the worst behaved, and underdeveloped academically of any other class I've seen. But they are absolutely my favorite. I generally work with 4 or 5 of the rowdiest boys in a corner, while the math teacher struggles to captivate more then 1 or 2 students in the rest of the class. My usual suspects are Jose (from puerto rico who's brother is a drug dealer but he wants to join the army) Steven (one of maybe 10 white kids in the school, probably the least advanced) Kordell (a good kid but doesn't try because his friends don't) Matt ( a transfer student who was expelled from Feltonville, who lives with his grandparents and seems to be spiraling) and Marquis (who only talks about either pimping hoes, doubtful, and selling drugs, which he seems to have an extreme amount of knowledge in.) Attempting to settle them in for the first 20 minutes is an exercise in futility, and will only even consider doing work after I talk to them about bullshit first. Like who's the best football player in the NFL, who could win in a fight, and what brands are the coolest. Once math work begins its glaringly obvious that they have memorized almost nothing, and have to usually count on their fingers, or count in their head simple problems. They have a willingness to learn if you can captivate them for even 10 minutes, but you have to almost trick them into working, until finally when they are done, they discover a tiny sense of pride in their accomplishments. Its a rare but wonderful thing when we can actually finish a worksheet in the appropriate amount of class given time.
The rest of my classes are about the same, with different faces, similar stories of poverty, drugs or violence, or unfortunate circumstances, just trying to make due and hold a smile. Recess is usually occupied with full contact wall ball, or 4/5 contact football. Its fun, but these kids go hard when it comes to sports.
Afters chool programs are just starting so I don't have much to say about them yet, except that some kids have some amazing hidden talents that only come out only during our art club on mondays.
By the time 4:30 rolls around and our last students walk out of our programs, we are usually filed back into our office to do bullshit menial tasks to try and fill the rest of our hour and fifteen minutes mandatory work hours are done. This is usually the hardest part of the day, because the extra time wasted could be spent valuably in commute and at home.
The final commute is an even bigger pain in the ass, because the bus i really want is never on time, and the bus I usually get takes me to the El train, which is slow, and far away. But if I do catch the 26 bus back to Olney and then the Broad St line back to north broad, I have to be a bit more delicate with where I go. Its usually dark by 4:30- 5ish, and people definitely start patrollin the streets at this point. So I hurry my ass the 2 blocks, get on my train home, and finally start to relax aka fall asleep for half an hour.
By the time I get home its usually 6 or 7, and I just wanna go to sleep already. But I have to walk Winston for a solid amount so he can get rid of all his poo, and some of his energy. Then its dinner, and then, if I'm lucky and have been moving quickly, I will have anywhere from 1 to 3 hours of personal time, to be spent either playing video games, listening to music, watching tv or a movie, but usually working on my siblings christmas presents. Never later then 11 p.m. will I lay my head down to rest, and be ready to start the whole cycle over again.
With mostly nothing to show for it.
On a typical weekly morning, i wake up between 5:45 - 6 and walk Winston in not much more then my pajamas and a coat. After hurrying back into the house I hope that 1. winston didn't take too long (because my morning has very little time cushion) and 2. hope my roommate hasn't gotten into the shower before me. If this happens then I eat cereal while I wait for him to drain all the hot water in a 20 minute shower of power. Then I get it in for 5 minutes of lukewarm horror. If he's not beat me, then I still only take 5 minutes, I just get heat with it.
After getting clothed I then eat my cereal in a major rush, and mentally go through everything I might possibly need for the day so I don't forget anything. Chances are if I do, I'll have to either miss the train and be late, or get sent home and be late.
Everything gathered, I powerwalk my ass off to the train 3 blocks away, because more then likely I'm playing it too close and have the strong possibility of missing my train. Which sucks. At 6:34 a.m. the sun is still down, and the wind is usually unkind to those outside their homes. By the time I reach the train my nose is running and my cheeks (both facial and glutal) are freezing. The ride from Conshohocken to the North Broad stop is about 35 minutes in duration, and good for either half sleeping, or listening to some soothing music. By the time I get to north philly I have more then likely changed my tunes up to something that will either give me swagger and confidence, or something a little bit tougher. Even though at 7 a.m. there isn't a whole hell of a lot to be worried about but kids waiting for the bus, there are always a few sheisters hanging out on North Broad and Lehigh, so I try not to fuck around on my walk from the train to the braod street subway, which thankfully is only 2 blocks. For the 10 minute ride on the subway to the Olney transportation center I'm usually just closing my eyes, but trying to wake up a littie bit. The beats usually change to something that make me smile a little bit, usually inspirational, more often then not either Brother Ali, Lupe, or P.O.S., because once I'm off the subway it gets pretty rough, and I try to stay positive as I'm daily reminded of how hard it can get for people that are born either the wrong color or into the wrong social/economic class. My bus ride from Olney to Thomas Creighton Elementary in Lawncrest is completely dedicated to mentally preparing for another worst day ever, as far as school goes. Every day I'm reminded of how badly the Philadelphia school system, as well as America's has failed those who do not have money or privilege.
After a long and mostly ridiculous 2 weeks of waiting to see where my permanent placement would be, I was positioned with the 7th grade math teacher, who happens to be brand new, and happens to to have no idea how to handle middle school students, who also happens to be a University of Michigan alumni. Dickhead. Since math and literacy are the only scores that matter in philly, they are each given 2 periods while almost nothing of other importance, (science, social studies, etc.) are merely given 1-3 periods a week tops. 3rd and 4th periods are occupied by the 306 home room class. They are by far the worst behaved, and underdeveloped academically of any other class I've seen. But they are absolutely my favorite. I generally work with 4 or 5 of the rowdiest boys in a corner, while the math teacher struggles to captivate more then 1 or 2 students in the rest of the class. My usual suspects are Jose (from puerto rico who's brother is a drug dealer but he wants to join the army) Steven (one of maybe 10 white kids in the school, probably the least advanced) Kordell (a good kid but doesn't try because his friends don't) Matt ( a transfer student who was expelled from Feltonville, who lives with his grandparents and seems to be spiraling) and Marquis (who only talks about either pimping hoes, doubtful, and selling drugs, which he seems to have an extreme amount of knowledge in.) Attempting to settle them in for the first 20 minutes is an exercise in futility, and will only even consider doing work after I talk to them about bullshit first. Like who's the best football player in the NFL, who could win in a fight, and what brands are the coolest. Once math work begins its glaringly obvious that they have memorized almost nothing, and have to usually count on their fingers, or count in their head simple problems. They have a willingness to learn if you can captivate them for even 10 minutes, but you have to almost trick them into working, until finally when they are done, they discover a tiny sense of pride in their accomplishments. Its a rare but wonderful thing when we can actually finish a worksheet in the appropriate amount of class given time.
The rest of my classes are about the same, with different faces, similar stories of poverty, drugs or violence, or unfortunate circumstances, just trying to make due and hold a smile. Recess is usually occupied with full contact wall ball, or 4/5 contact football. Its fun, but these kids go hard when it comes to sports.
Afters chool programs are just starting so I don't have much to say about them yet, except that some kids have some amazing hidden talents that only come out only during our art club on mondays.
By the time 4:30 rolls around and our last students walk out of our programs, we are usually filed back into our office to do bullshit menial tasks to try and fill the rest of our hour and fifteen minutes mandatory work hours are done. This is usually the hardest part of the day, because the extra time wasted could be spent valuably in commute and at home.
The final commute is an even bigger pain in the ass, because the bus i really want is never on time, and the bus I usually get takes me to the El train, which is slow, and far away. But if I do catch the 26 bus back to Olney and then the Broad St line back to north broad, I have to be a bit more delicate with where I go. Its usually dark by 4:30- 5ish, and people definitely start patrollin the streets at this point. So I hurry my ass the 2 blocks, get on my train home, and finally start to relax aka fall asleep for half an hour.
By the time I get home its usually 6 or 7, and I just wanna go to sleep already. But I have to walk Winston for a solid amount so he can get rid of all his poo, and some of his energy. Then its dinner, and then, if I'm lucky and have been moving quickly, I will have anywhere from 1 to 3 hours of personal time, to be spent either playing video games, listening to music, watching tv or a movie, but usually working on my siblings christmas presents. Never later then 11 p.m. will I lay my head down to rest, and be ready to start the whole cycle over again.
With mostly nothing to show for it.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
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