Crap I Did Today

Sorry for the absence . . . tis grading season so that means my ass has been one with the couch as of late. But this past weekend, there was nothing to grade (mark it on your calendars), so I did what I like best: knitting, reading, knitting and reading, watching movies, watching football, and going to Spice India with my husband. I can't really cook Indian food that well - despite repeated attempts - and quite frankly, when you have really good Indian food about 25 minutes away, why the hell would you?

So, today . . . well, here's what I did:

• kvetched with some co-workers over the professor of our grad class getting fired
• previewed the on-line taping of the class that we are being merged with and panicking
• created a game design document for Knitting Ninja (yup . . . I'm designing a game based on knitting; you'll wish you thought of it first - or that I didn't have my head examined when multiple people suggested it)
• called a bajillion and one parents about failing grades; fine . . . I called ten parents
• laughed at my mother and my sister in our repeated attempts to get a video chat going. Note to self: it's your new laptop, idiot
• scheduled a Genius appointment at the Apple store to correct the whole video chat issues because it really is the new laptop
• made a hot cocoa and added a generous "Dave is traveling again" amount of Bailey's
• added songs to my unofficial funeral playlist on Spotify. Not that I'm planning on kicking it any time soon, but truly I have no desire to have "Amazing Grace" or some other shitty song played. Instead, you'll be treated to "Tobacco Road" by Lou Rawls or "Zombie" by The Cranberries. Note the irony in that last one
• argued with the cat for space on the rather large couch. She wants my spot, and right now, I'm kind of afraid that she might eat me if I don't move
• talked to my sister about her son's homework, which apparently is pretty challenging for her. I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt because it does sound kind of hard . . . which would be fine if he weren't in first grade

I think that's it . . . wait. I taught 110 kids today and modeled how to create their book report. I explained the plot to To Kill a Mockingbird because one of my kids thought it didn't have a plot. I helped a kid find a book that he could read because he lost his over a month ago and never thought to tell either me or my reading partner. I laughed at some of their responses. I nearly cried at some of the other ones. I often forget about work . . . because it doesn't really seem like work. It's just something I enjoy doing.

Wish me luck with tomorrow . . . I'm Skyping with my parents in class five times so that my kids can see an interview being conducted. It's either going to be the best idea I ever had or the worst . . . jury's still out on that.

Cheers,
Jill

PS - I'm pretty sure that you could strip to "Tobacco Road," too. Might have to start another Spotify playlist . . . "Music to Shake Your Moneymaker By" . . . suggestions?

"Would You Like Fries With That?" - Harder Than You Think

Conversation today at the end of 7th period:
RG: So, ummm, Mrs. G . . . do you work at Wendy's, too?
Me: (completely serious) Yes . . . it's my second job.
RG: Oh. I wasn't sure when I saw you there.
Me: No, sweetie. I was helping out a friend who had a fundraiser. I was kind of surprised to see you there, too.

On Wednesday night, the last thing I wanted to do was be in Wendy's for two hours, asking people what they wanted to drink with their  value meals. My fall allergies were hitting with the force of a Mack truck. My feet hurt from Zumba. I was dead tired from crap sleep for the past three days. But I promised my friend, Jen, that I would help her during a fundraiser she's holding for her annual multiple sclerosis walk . She's been participating in Walk MS for years now and raises the $2,000 over several fundraisers. In the past it's been easier for her to do, but since the economy has taken a nose-dive, charities have been hard hit.

The Wendy's fundraiser meant that a lot of teachers in our district (all of them from one of our high schools) come to Wendy's, put on an apron and name tag, and shadow someone who is working. I figured I would get to see some former students, help out a friend, and have a good time. Seriously, how hard could it be.

They're chili isn't as good as mine . . . but it's pretty darn good

Famous last words. I shadowed Nikki, a woman a year younger that the Girls, for the evening. She was gracious, kind, and patient with me. She didn't get upset when I repeatedly had to ask which was the medium cup and which was the value cup or where the lids for the chili was located. She laughed when I was flustered. She answered all my questions. She was patient with customers who couldn't make up their minds. She was kind when customers weren't. She smiled nonstop. She worked nonstop. She was awesome.

At the end of my two-hour shift, my feet were killing me. There was a Frosty with my name on it, and I was ready to head out. But Nikki still had another five hours to go for her shift. During one of our conversations, she said she thought about being a teacher, but she's pretty sure that she doesn't have the patience for it. So she was thinking that nursing might be for her . . . but most of her friends were doing that, and most people might be expecting her to as well. For now, Nikki is saving money to buy a car because it's a 25 minute walk for her to get to work. College will come after she has the car, and by then she thinks she'll know what she wants to study. Considering I didn't know what I wanted to be when I grew up until I was 30, I am pretty sure that Nikki will be fine.

Besides, if she can handle the rush at Wendy's with a smile on her face the way she did on Wednesday evening, college will not be a problem for her.

Enjoy the weekend,
Jill

PS - I'm loving Kellie Hatcher's color presets . . . check 'em out!

Note To Self . . .

• you're not 21 any more
• you never were that coordinated
• the term "step-ball-chain" still doesn't make sense
• Shakira has hips that don't lie . . . yours probably do
• but you can still shake it

First Zumba class after work this afternoon. If you want to see some fun, try Zumbaing with people you work with . . . I'll be sore tomorrow.

A little breathless,
Jill

I'm Pretty Sure It's a Bad Omen

When you start the school year with a cancellation, I'm fairly certain it can't be a good thing. After hearing about Hurricane Irene and the impending "the world is ending . . . buy more white bread" mentality, I was pretty certain it would lead to an interesting school year. Hurricane Irene arrived in our neck of the woods as a tropical storm, but she left her mark with flooding and massive power outages. So, we're starting off the 2011-2012 school year in the hole. Hopefully, our district will apply for forgiveness; if not, I'm pretty sure I'll forget about it come June anyway.

My artsy beginning of the school year

So, the school year is now 36 hours away. What am I looking forward to? A schedule - I do shitty without one. New students - I can't wait to meet my new kiddos. New challenges - but not the kind that make me want to tear my hair out . . . the kind that expand my teaching. Trying something new for organization - working with 7th graders is like herding cats some days, so I'm hoping that a new organizational model will help.

It has a certain elegance . . . but it's a bitch to dry with

But for tomorrow, I'll sleep late one last time. Drink two cups of coffee instead of one. Perhaps knit a little more on a scarf. Read a few more pages in my book. Plan further for my first two weeks of school*. Call the insurance company about the two cracked windshields. And get ready to welcome some new kiddos to English class because school will come eventually.

Hope you all stayed safe and dry this weekend! The Girls officially survived a Category One hurricane without a parent . . . not that we would have been any help, but they did it in style - with Uno and Doctor Who at the ready.

- Jill

* I was supposed to have a student teacher starting with me on Tuesday, but he will be two weeks late. Seems he's a little preoccupied being a volunteer for the Red Cross and was shipped to North Carolina as of Friday. Seems promising already . . .  here's hoping I don't eat those words.

When All Else Fails, Make a Playlist

Seriously, when I feel like procrastinating or putting off stress or decompressing in anticipation of the coming weeks, I make a playlist. I've always done that. During my certification classes, I had the best iPod going . . . it was chock full of the latest songs, deep tracks from the "chill" genre, classical music so obscure that it couldn't really be defined. You name it, it was on there - with the possible exception of country music save for Willie, Johnny, and some Dwight.

So, this playlist started off the same way that others have: from a commercial. Usually, I'll hear a song on a commercial and think, "Hmmm . . . I love that song! Who sings it?" and I traipse off to AdTunes to locate the artist. That little side venture brings on more songs that I didn't know I liked, and by the time I'm done, I have a brand new set of music to listen to. Plus I can't put off what I was putting off any longer.

This time around, I'm putting off the coming school year. I can't really put it off, but I can try and banish the thought from my brain for a while longer. I look forward to the beginning of the school year (always have, always will), but it's always with a certain amount of dread. This year is no exception. Will the lessons that worked last year work this year? Will the kids "get it" when we are writing? Will they know how to write a paragraph? Will I worry about them when the day is over? And the list goes on. We have a new group of kids with us this year, the gifted and talented crew, so that's a whole new list of "Will theys" to add to the rotation. And it doesn't help that this summer was spent translating what I do in a classroom to what can be done with just a computer.

So, what's a girl to do? Create a playlist . . . School's Back. Feel free to listen/watch as much as you want or make your own.

1. "Pumped Up Kicks" by Foster the People ( in Fright Night and at Subway yesterday with Lisa)
2. "One Week of Danger" by The Virgins (in a Honda commercial)
3. "I Follow Rivers" by Lykke Li (in the latest trailer for Columbiana)
4. "Introducing" by Snake & Jet's Amazing Bullit Band (in a Honda commercial)
5. "We Turn It Up" by Oh Land (in a Honda commercial)
6. "Rescue Song" by Mr. Little Jeans (in a Honda commercial  . . . so I like Honda's commercials)
7. "Our World" by My Morning Jacket (from the Muppets soundtrack . . . moved me to tears)
8. "Moves Like Jagger" by Maroon 5 (heard it on the radio . . . yes, the radio)
9. "You Make Me Feel" by Cobra Starship featuring Sabi (heard it on MTV in one of the brief moments they were playing videos)
10. "Every Teardrop Is a Waterfall" by Coldplay (heard it on Pandora)
11. "Walk" by Foo Fighters (just bought it because I like them)
12. "Double Trouble" by Jack and White (free on iTunes . . . kind of fun)
13 "I Follow Rivers" by the Glee cast (if there is a Glee cover, I usually buy it . . . can't explain why, I just do)

Off for more work related stuff . . . but at least I have my tunes to make it fun.

- Jill

Another Good Book

Since the last post, I finished three more books: Hush, Hush and Crescendo by Becca Fitzpatrick and 13 Reasons Why by Jay Asher. The first two were pretty quick forbidden romance novels aimed at my core group of middle school students. The student who read The Mortal Instruments series recommended this book series to me, and I couldn't return to school without having read it. For some reason, if a kid is kind enough to recommend a book to me, I'll take a swing at it. After all, I give them suggestions all the time, and I hope that they listen every now and then.

But then there was 13 Reasons Why. I bought it before we took our anniversary trip, but I didn't read it then. I have read six books since I bought it, all of which were purchased after I bought this rather slim novel. What was holding me back? It's about a girl who commits suicide and 13 reasons why she chose to do it. I'm not giving away any secrets here. If you read the back of the cover, it clearly states that she kills herself. But it's the reasons why - her encounters with those around her - that prevented me from cracking it open. I was afraid that it would be sad (it was). I was afraid that it would be maudlin (it wasn't). I was afraid that the author wouldn't have an authentic voice for a girl (he did). Turns out I should have read it a lot sooner than I did . . . but definitely not on vacation.

The story is told by two different people: Hannah, the girl who decides to commit suicide, and Clay, one of 13 people to receive a box of audio tapes from Hannah. On the tapes she narrates the different reasons that brought her to her ultimate decision, not indicting the people to whom she devotes one side of a tape to, but clearly making the case that their actions or lack thereof caused her pain. While the final act is an extremely drastic measure, the acts from all the characters leading up to it are all too common.

It's a young adult book, but it's a quick read . . . go ahead and crack it open

I teach in a middle school. Hardly a day goes by when you don't see a student who is upset with someone else. It ranges from pencil tapping that drives a person to the point of madness to insensitive comments about looks, clothing, body odor . . . anything. Bullying is a constant topic in society partially because it's everywhere. And you know what? It should be discussed. Parents need to talk to their kids about it and get them to understand that it's perfectly fine to tell someone when they think they are being bullied. And keep telling them that. If you think your child is being bullied and they tell you they've talked to a teacher or a guidance counselor about it, take that extra step and call the teacher. Trust me on this one . . . kids often don't tell us a thing. They might say that they had a bad day, and we ask what happened. "Oh, I forgot my lunch, and I had to call my mom to bring it to school, but she left for work already, so now I'll have to charge it at lunch." This, to a teacher, translates to: not much. But what the student really meant to say was, "I was so worried about riding to school on the bus with students X, Y, and Z, and I forgot my lunch, and now I'll have to charge at lunch, which means getting up in front of students X, Y, and Z at lunch, and they'll whisper behind their hands at me." See? Same stories . . . clearly. When in doubt, call you child's teacher and ask. We'd rather know so that we can look out for it.

A huge source of bullying comes online. Teachers can't control that. But you can. Your child has a Facebook? Fine. But they need to understand that you as the parent have the right to review every single thing on that. Who they have as friends. What they like. Who they are chatting with. What the comments are. What the pictures look like. Investigate. You would be shocked at what is posted on there. One of my former students, who was a darling, sweet, innocent girl, had a profile pic of her doing her best "fuck you" pose, complete with the middle finger. She popped up as a person I might know*. You're right I know her . . . and promptly told her to remove that photo. "Would your mother be okay with that?" I asked. "No . . . she'd scream and yell," she replied. "Then why do you want the first thing that new friends see to be that photo?" I asked. There was no reply. Investigate what their online profile is like, and keep doing it.

We also can't control what they text to one another. In school, our students are supposed to leave their cell phones in their lockers turned off, and we do everything we can to prevent texting. But it happens. Girls keep their phones in their bras or boots. Boys keep them in baggy pants or in hoodie pockets. Again, you're the one paying the bills . . . so check the texts and picture messages. And investigate. Talk about what the language means. About how those pictures never, ever, ever go away. And when all else fails, don't ever let them forget that you love them unconditionally.

I've been at school all week, working on getting the last bits of our online curriculum done. I have a feeling that this is going to be a labor of love and something that is never quite finished. And the whole time I've been working on it, I wonder what my new group of students will be like. Hopefully they take my suggestions.

- Jill


* For the record, I don't have any students or former students as friends on social media sites. When they graduate, I'll happily accept them.

Things To Do This Weekend, But Most Likely Next Week Too

I love lists. Make them all the time. Like to cross off little accomplishments. Sometimes, I'll even make a list of the things I've done just to reassure myself that I was, in fact, productive that day. But in the summer, when the schools are closed, and I don't have anywhere special to be at 7:10 AM, I need a list to function for the day. Without it, I'll look up at the clock and realize that it's 2:56 PM, and I'm still in my PJs* But weekends are worse because both of us are home . . . and it's very likely that we could both be in our PJs at 2:56 PM.

Nothing to do with the post . . . just the junk that I must now clean up

The weekend I should:

1. Get my next round of clothes for Project 333 selected. 
2. Head to the attic and make room for my dresser . . . since I love that it matches Dave's and I refuse to let it go (plus I don't think my in-laws would forgive me).
3. Finish the skeleton of my Blackboard course. It's taking forever to get one unit done, and there are times I would like to scream. 
4. Clean the gutters. Which means: get out the ladder, climb up, scoop the shit out, let the water drain, then take a shower 
5. Sit 'n Knit on Saturday and work the Fourth of July sale. Any knitters dream: personal shopper/pusher for all things fibery and good. 
6. Possibly see a movie. Really want to see Bad Teacher if only to reassure myself that I am not. 
7. Vacuum. I hate it, but I'm pretty sure that Dave is mowing the lawn, and it's the least I can do. 
8. Possibly see if the Girls are free (but this might have to wait until next weekend . . . so don't get mad if you're reading this and don't see us this weekend, J & S).
9. Consider weeding. I say "consider" because I'm thinking that from a distance the weeds look green and lush and almost plantlike so why bother. At least I tell myself that they look green and lush.
10. Knit a few repeats on Starskey or finish the decrease section on Idiot project 2

I should do all that, but I probably won't. I might get about one half of it done. Maybe I'll surprise myself and get 90% done. But I've got next Tuesday to work on the rest.

- Jill

* Most English teachers grade essays and paragraphs and reports, so many - at least three per month - are spent grading writing. So the fact that I might be in my PJs at 2:56 PM on a Wednesday is called "Sunday, February 27" . . . and that evens things out a bit in my mental ledger.

Snow Day #1

Teachers have this bizarre love/hate relationship with snow. Honestly, I've never seen another group of people more addicted to weather channels. Some swear by X while others will go out of their way to discredit X by providing spreadsheet data showing how Y was correct 90% of the time. Personally, I think my relationship is a little more hate/love. Don't get me wrong . . . I love being off of school. I'm sitting here in my PJs, drinking another cup of coffee (which may or may not have a little Bailey's in it), watching The People's Court. But I know that this is one day more in June that I will be sweating my fucking ass off, attempting to get the point across that punctuation still matters and that grammar is important not matter where you are. So, yes, snow days are awesome until June rolls around, and you're left wondering if make-up will really be a good idea (note: it won't because the sweat will be pouring out of your pores).

A closet of its own

Part of Project 333 is taking a photo of your daily outfit, which is something that I am really sucking at. By the time I get home from work, I really don't feel like trying to look all spiffy and snazzy for a selfie. I'll have to figure out something because those self-portraits just aren't happening. Yesterday was the first day that things went a little pear shaped. I wanted to wear my green cardi but realized that I didn't have a white cami clean. Couple that with getting dressed by the light of my cellphone and you get a recipe for disaster. Long (and truly boring) story short, I dressed up kind of nunlike in all black and put on a winter coat. If you know me, that last bit about wearing a coat is truly remarkable since I will go out in just about any kind of weather without one. I always thought they were more trouble then they were worth, but yesterday it was a necessary evil. And you know what? It felt kind of nice to have one.

A few people at school have said that they wish they could do Project 333 whenever I talk about it. My first reaction is always, "Why can't you?" The reasons are ones that I've given in the past when I thought about getting rid of clothes:

• I really liked that pair of pants then they fit . . . maybe one day they will again (And they probably won't be in fashion . . . trust me) 
• It's too much work to go through all those clothes (It does take a lot of work, but so does cramming all that shit in your closet)
• But I remember exactly when I bought that (I only have this reaction to two articles of clothing and I would never, ever get rid of them)
• I might need more than 33 pieces of clothing (You might . . . but you'll never know if you don't try)

So far, so good. But I know I have to plan better. It might mean setting out the clothing I'm planning on wearing for the week on Sunday evening or just the night before. I know I need to get rid of two of the shirts I have. One is so old that it isn't black any more. The other is too trendy for me to even think about keeping around. I think I'll hit my old stand by (Old Navy) and pick up a black shirt and a colored shirt . . . but nothing more. Not a snazzy cardi, not a cheap pair of shoes. Nothing. 
- Jill

10:30

While I might complain about grading essays, I truly am grateful for the decision I made eight years ago when I pursued education as my career choice. Originally, I had a degree in technical writing, but I hated every job that I took in that field. Most of it was done on spec for clients that ranged from major hospitals to Ivy League colleges to small non-profits. And I hated just about every job that I had because there was a lack of interaction with other people. So when the Girls were in the third grade, I took a job as an instructional assistant at a neighboring district and was hooked. Turns out I actually enjoyed working with middle school aged children, and I loved learning new things from the people that shared the space around me. Three years later, I left that position to work on my certification in education. Ironically, I was hired in the same building where I worked as an assistant.

Days run together after about the third week. I seem repeat myself to the point where I am sure that one day someone will find me in the corner muttering, "Your name, my name, English 7. period you have it, today's date . . . no punctuation," just to get the MLA heading down properly. Christ, there are some days that I consider getting that simple, four-line heading correct a major victory. I've worked out a dance to teach my kids the writing process, I've smacked my head against the board for emphasis, I've made kids cry for no reason other than saying, "I don't understand your writing," I've cried after kids tell me they couldn't get their homework done because their mother is dying of cancer, I've laughed so hard I thought I was going to puke, I've seen just about everything, I've heard just about every excuse. And yet . . . every day is a brand new day.

Whoever said, "Those who can, do, those you can't teach," never taught a day in their life

Yesterday, I was privileged and honored to chaperone an annual trip to New York City to see the Martha show taping for our school's television production class. The students come from all walks of life and offer a unique glimpse into the future that awaits us in 20 years. Part of me is frightened - I've seen them eat and heard their jokes - but a bigger part of me can't wait. Our future is more than bright . . . and for that I am so grateful.

Jill

PS - I'll get a video up sometime this week from both the New York trips - Dave's and my trip and the Martha trip . . . after all, I still have those essays to grade

Summer Is Near Its End

I spent a whole day at school today just trying to get ready for the new kids coming through my door in two weeks. It felt kind of good to be back . . . until I realized it was 5 PM, and I had been there since 9 AM.

August Break

- Jill

PS - This is my favorite photo from the photo walk that I took in July. It's something about the feather amidst the gravel.

When Thank You Isn't Enough

School ended two weeks ago, yet I found myself back in the classroom on Monday for a full day. I had been telling friends that I was attending Boot Camp, and they all looked at me like I had started speaking in tongues or something. "Boot Camp? Like push-ups and that shit and people screaming at you?" After explaining that it was a technology boot camp and we would be learning new educational technology implementation strategies and pretending not to notice when they yawned at the second word of that explanation, I started telling people that I was taking a summer class . . . because that didn't require any further words since I have always been a learner first and a teacher second. Put any nonfiction book in front of me, and I'll read it . . . and then tell you about it. See? Learner, teacher.

I think I've wanted to be a teacher my entire life. Sure, I wanted to be a nun for a year (stop laughing), but my first few teachers were all nuns. Then, after our sister Bridget was born premature, I wanted to be a neonatologist for the longest time . . . but honestly, I should have pursued teaching from the word go. It would have saved me years of trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I would have had an excuse for all the bookwormish behavior that I exhibit. Teaching was such a logical fit, but god, did I fight it for a long, long time. 

When the Girls entered kindergarten, I helped out at their school as much as I could and met so many dedicated teachers. They didn't ask for a lot, save maybe some books or left over craft supplies, but they changed more lives than they could ever know. I credit them with pushing me into the teaching profession. Later, when I worked as an instructional aide, the teachers with whom I worked on a daily basis provided more help, support, and knowledge than I ever learned in my coursework. I credit them with giving me the confidence and tools necessary to survive in a middle school. Now, as a teacher, I have the privilege of working with people who put kids first and everything else second. They willingly come in on a gorgeous summer day to learn new techniques because they want the best for their students. They put whatever politics are going around about teaching aside in favor of educating the kids sitting in front of them. I credit them with keeping me fresh, giving our students 110%, and never accepting that "good" is "good enough."

Teaching is in the news these days and not for the best of reasons. Teachers are greedy; they're overpaid; we only work ten months a year; if you can do, and if you can't teach . . . dare I continue? There has been a huge upsurge in homeschooling and cyberschooling recently, and I totally get why people would choose to go that route . . . honestly, I do. I can't read the paper without looking at some piece on how cutting education is our only hope for financial solvency. In a district about 20 miles from here, they cut 72 jobs, including all of their technology positions. Think about it. You use a computer and the Internet and so do your kids . . . who do you think knows more? In the past three days, I've learned more about technology integration than I had during most of the previous school year (I also learned I still hate group work, but that is a post for another time). Without a technology coach, I would be lost and floundering. I credit them with pushing me to be better than I ever could hope to be, helping when I am pretty sure that things have gone pear shaped.

- Jill,

PS - Clearly, I was creatively brain dead after this week . . . but I did sign up for Picture Summer  so maybe there is hope for me yet.

Sweeter Than Candy On A Stick

Seventh grade was probably the most challenging year for me as a student. Our dad worked for a company that made tractor trailer and school buses. It was in the process of shutting down the plant in the city where we lived, and we didn't know if he would have a job in the new plant. Needless to say, for about six months, we lived with the "unknown" . . . not a happy few months. During that time, I realized that boys were treated differently from the girls (truly, it had been unknown to me up until that year), that I wasn't that good at math, and that I probably would never be an athlete. Needless to say, Dad was offered a position at the new plant, he commuted for a few months, and then we sold our home and moved to Ohio. I was more than happy to put seventh grade behind me forever.

Fast forward about 20 years . . . I'm an adult, I'm a certified teacher, and I'm offered my first contract: teaching seventh grade English. Turns out I couldn't escape that scourge after all. The only thing that changed? I kind of like it now. I love that my kids come up with something new every day. I love that they are in abject misery because they can't go to the bathroom right that minute and then are in rapture the next when we do something interesting. I love seeing the "look" when they get something. I love the stories. I love them.

Tonight, I am doing something I never thought I would be doing in a million years: singing on stage with a bunch of junior high students in front of their friends and families. For some reason, our choir director asked the students to see if they could convince female teachers to sing "Lollipop" (the Chordettes version, not L'il Wayne's opus). Two of my girls from the literary magazine that I run asked if I would join in. For these two, I can refuse nothing. One of them has such a bubbly personality that you can't help but smile and laugh out loud. She wants to be a middle school teacher and will be damn good at it. She has one story after the other, yet I really fear for her. She is in seventh grade, and I never want her to get to the point where she feels like it is all too much for her: the drama with friends, boys acting like boys, school work piling up, life in general.

The other one? She isn't a typical eighth grader. She's a little too streetwise. She's seen too much at 14. She's taken on too much responsibility. She calls me Cherry Blossom because of my water bottle. And yet, she's after school every Tuesday, working on her creative writing and being brutally honest with the papers in front of her. Three weeks ago, she showed up in my first period class with blurry, blood shot eyes. I took her in the hall and listened as she sobbed and poured her heart out. For a change, I was at a loss for words.

She lost a brother in the earthquake in Haiti. Her grandfather was immigrating any day from Haiti, only he died of a heart attack. An older sister was missing in NewYork. And the petty little day-to-day bullshit stuff that adults learn to deal with? Well, it had taken their toll on an already fragile little girl. So, I let her cry. I listened. I offered advice. I walked with her to see another teacher she trusted. We let her cry. And we listened. And we offered advice.

I'd like to say it made a difference and for all I know, it did. But tonight . . . tonight, I swallow my pride and will be singing, "Lollipop" on a hot stage in an auditorium full of god-knows-who . . . all for two little girls - because they really are girls after all -  who make my world brighter. I'll sing off key and snap my fingers in all the wrong places. Because my girls asked me to.

Jill, who promises to take some relevant photos this weekend . . . but this one was the only one from school