When I get home

I was pulling into our community lot at about 4:30 and Zuleyha was pushing the stroller - Tuana sitting upright, straight faced and examining the world with big, round, blue eyes.  She's always watching and noticing everything.  You can almost see the little wheels turning in her brain.

They were on their way to the market, so besides pausing for me to get Tuana's attention through the window, they continued on.  Teoman and I went up the elevator to our apartment and it was empty.  I'm not sure how I knew, maybe it was too quiet - but I knew they were all gone.  Zuleyha forgot to mention it - and the apartment seemed light and empty.

I wasn't sure if I was disappointed that after a long day of work, my other two were taken away ... or happy to get a quiet home, even for 20 minutes.  I stuck, Teoman in the bath, and Tomris came soon after and jumped in as well.

Tuana returned with Zuleyha just as the kids were getting out of the bath.  Tuana loves taking a bath and her siblings coming out of the bathroom with bathrobes and wet hair was enough evidence for her to understand she'd missed out on her favorite time.  She pointed and hollered towards the bathroom door.

Quite clever, and always clear with what she wants.
It was 5:15 - A lot happens in 45 minutes.

say something

I have a classroom that is twice the size as a normal room, so it is often used for meetings.  On the weekend, the school hosted a big event, and lots of middle school teachers had to volunteer and sit in the hallways to monitor.  I had locked my things up, and expected my room to be disorganized, and it was.  Chairs were stacked and stuffed in a corner, music instruments were splayed all over the floor in the same corner, tables were stacked on each other, papers, packets, and supplies from the event were on my cabinets.  And, my basketball hoop was missing.

I usually have the secretary send the cleaners - they are a big enough crew they can organize my hundred chairs, 30 long tables, and instrument storage pretty quickly.  But this morning I had my students all pitch in during the morning meeting time.  We only had ten minutes, but we did our best. One of my girl students is a big boss - and ordered everyone around, shaming anyone who didn't help.

In the end, I left somethings for later, and never could get to them.  My Mondays are busy with lessons straight through until 1pm and I was annoyed but still hopeful the cleaners would come with my basketball hoop.

The Hawk came in around 12:30 with a colleague of mine in a frazzle.  She was looking for a coverage, and apparently I had been assigned one that morning and it needed to be switched already.  I hadn't been following email traffic that morning - but I could see by the Hawk's face that it had been stressful.  Actually, anything relating to coverages is stressful for her.  She hates it and she's really bad at it.  She can't think on the fly, she usually "asks" anyone she sees, careless of their time in favor of her current emergency.  They came to ask me to switch.
My students were taking turns sharing their writing pieces out loud.  A girl was in the middle of her piece, reading it out loud, and trying to continue reading even though the principal and my colleague were trying to talk to me.  I was annoyed, and trying to focus on my student - and their request at the same time.  I was annoyed because my room was rearranged, my basketball hoop was missing.  I was annoyed because they had interrupted my lesson and student sharing for their "emergency".
The Hawk said I was the only one available.
I'd been teaching 6 periods in a row and into a 7th half period.
"Everyone's been teaching all morning," she said.
And, because I was feeling ornery, I said, "Everyone is NOT teaching in the morning - I know my schedule is unique.
Well, there is no one left.

So why are you belittling my time spent by comparing it to another?  Why are you barging in and ignoring this student and my lesson?  Why are you comparing my extra large room with extra chairs and tables to regular classrooms?

Stop discounting my words!

I talked with the Hawk about it later.  I apologized for being short with her and said I was willing to help out, and I told her my frustration with the interruption.

But in my heart, I'm wondering if I've developed a chip on my shoulder, or if this is the new me coming through that refuses to have her words bulldozed for the sake of others.  I will help, I will converse, I will be a team player - but listen to me, I've got something to say too.

the poor

Tolga and Gokhan too the kids to the mall.  I went for a walk in the light rain with Tuana - stopping at an ATM and a kirtasiye - a stationery store for some school supplies and back-up play-doh (for emergencies).

Walking down the road, a older man in trench coat, pointy shoes, and an suit - all looking like it was kept in good condition since 1980.  He greeted me and told me something about being locked out of a car, not having a bus pass, and how for is this road because he had to walk there.  I told him it was quite a ways to walk and he asked for money with apologies.

I looked him over again, I knew Tolga wouldn't like this, and even his story was suspicious, but I couldn't say no, because he was older, and he was desperate enough to ask.  He thanked me and offered to pay me back, and I told him instead to give it to another in need.

Walking back from the kirtasiye , I was still thinking about the man and his circumstances - wondering if he was hard up for money, or making a lot money on Sundays telling people the same story.  There is a lot of poverty in Turkey - between the gypsies, the refugees, the villagers, and simply those working full time but not getting paid, or getting underpaid.

Below our 10 floor apartment buildings, down the hill is a gece kondu - the night houses - called such because they were on land claimed illegally, built overnight, and always a crumbling mess.  This one's roof sagged, a shed to the side didn't have shingles, put a plastic sheet with heavy rocks broken cement to hold it in place.  The house had openings on the side, like compartments or closets - open to the elements outside and a wooden panel or sheet metal and a lock.  The walls were brick, half-smeared with cement, and I wondered why they walls were half smeared.  They ran out of money?  Just the top part was important?  The home didn't have one window on it, but painted on the three was a phone number and the advertisement "We move couches."  I wondered if Tolga's let them move our couch.  Probably not.  I wondered if they'd actually carry our couch down from the 9th floor.  I wondered if we'd pay them more or less than normal for their work - if it was legal or not, and if we'd actually be helping them or hurting small businesses.

I saw once past the house there was one window after all - it was stuck on the roof as a skylight.  The poor as always with us.  All around.  And I don't every want to stop being thankful and giving for what we have.

getting out of the house for the sake of our neighbors.

Tolga was still in the field so I brace myself and the kids for the weekend.  Saturday morning I told the kid's quiet play, and after lunch we will go play with Mina at a park.
"We're going to Mina's?!  Hooray!  I love you Mama!"
"No, we're not going to Mina's, we're going to meet Mina a a park and play with her there."
"When?"
"After lunch."
"Can I have lunch now?"
"No, you can have breakfast."
"Mom!  I don't want breakfast!"

Saturday morning when Tolga is here, is usually us trying to keep them from running around the apartment, dropping toys on the floor, torturing each other and generally doing things that eventually makes our neighbor bang on the radiator pipes downstairs.

But this morning, for some reason, they were almost  peaceful.  They found quiet things to do, relatively, and besides asking me every five minutes if we could go yet, they were pretty happy.

Around noon, Anne told me our relatives were coming over for a visit.  They had called late last night, and she had told me this, but I had misunderstood the part about them coming over today.  We had nothing to serve them, Gokhan was working on a Saturday, I had the kids ... an frankly, we had plans for the park.

Tolga was on his way home, and Anne said it would be fine if we left, and so we happened to pass my relatives in the door.  It was a beautiful day - the next day was to be rainy, and the kids were squealing with excitement to go outside.  I got three kids loaded up, a stroller, a bid, some roller skates, pads, and helmets for both.  No trip is a a small trip, but with Emily's kids at the same park I had extra hands in a ways for her kids were older.  Tuana insisted on the swings, pointed at the slides, smiled and giggled at their terrier.  We stayed for almost two hours then returned home to visit a short time with the relatives.  Tolga was home too so the kids were excited and busy eating the Kindereggs he brought home while trying to put together the toy inside.  Tuana just smashed hers, and hollered when I tried to take it away.  The kids were overexcited, but it's always nice when Baba comes home.

working lunch

Fridays are my best days at work.  I have three lessons in the morning, then I am almost free for the day - minus lunch duty and a meeting.  It's the day I theoretically get all my work done so I don't have to struggle to find time on the one weekend.  It's also the day we order Chinese food.

I offered the others working in my room - three seventh grade teachers to join Meltem - a gym teacher and I - in our lunch.  My English colleague accepted, the new girl declined, and the director's partner told us we can feel free to stuff ourselves with MSG without him.

what we absorb

I had a good parking spot this evening.  Right in front of our building in our 5 building apartment complex.  Teoman said as we were leaving,
"Mama - can you ask Jesus to save our parking spot?"
"Um... yeah, I guess I can.  Jesus, will you save this parking spot for us?"  I think Teoman had been listening to the sermon I was playing in the car, the preacher had made a joke about that prayer.

When we came back from their friend's house it was 8:30pm.  I tough time to find a parking spot.

There were none.  I circled twice and found one towards the back near a cliff.

Okay, not a cliff, but a bad spot with a dangerous drop off.

As we were circling Teoman and Tomris were commenting.
"I'm going to hit all  those people's cars!" (Teoman)
"I'm going to put glass on them!" (Tomris)


What have I taught these children?

writing theory for fifth grade

I'm not sure when I became so un-eloquent.  Maybe it was acquiring a second language I forgot my first.

I was trying to explain why I didn't like 6+1 Writing Traits.
Have you ever taught it before?
Um... yes?  I don't know - they seem to be the obvious conventions of writing that we automatically teach given a Now-Trending title.
What's the problem?
It's so abstract.  What is "voice"?
A paragraph that ranges from "I'm bored" to "Hear me ROAR".
How do I teach that?
You don't have to, they've been practicing since the first grade.
But I have to mark them on it, and I need to explain exactly why their paragraph doesn't "roar" and I'm not so confident I can do that.

Nevermind, on to the next topic.

There are 6+1 traits.  But really, for fifth graders, I am mainly looking at ideas, organization, and a level of grammar.  The other 3+1 (whatever the +1 is) are superfluous at this point, bonuses if the kids can do it - but not my focus.  But organization is only one category on the rubric, and in my mind - organization is at least five categories right there.  This is what the kids need to be able to check off one-by-one - did I learn how to right an intro, topic sentence, supporting details, and conclusion?

Not this massive, theoretical, everybody "knows", perfectly summarized writing traits.

I think I was to go back to working by myself...

my singer

Tolga thinks he knows, but he doesn't.  He can only imagine the days without him, and hear the tidbits.  But he doesn't know.  He calls from his hotel, sentimental and missing his wife and kids.  In the mean time I am juggling ten tasks, and juggling Tolga on the phone is the eleventh task - so with effort I acknowledge how he's feeling, try to get the kids to say hello and stop singing, fighting, hitting, running, throwing, crying, etc.

We talk on the phone on my way to work, and on my home.  It is the best time to check in with each other.  My phone calls go over the car's bluetooth speaker and we talk while Teoman sings.  He sang in the morning the whole way to school, and on the way home - the whole way.  It was his made-up song, tuneless and endless.    Our typical commute

monday on my left foot

I forgot my badge - my school ID card that I am required to wear, and also has my keys to my desk and cabinets.  

I suggested to the secretary that I go home for not having the proper ID - she laughed and gave me a visitor pass. 

Rats.  

My school computer was locked in my drawers, but I had my Mac and just needed to borrow an adapter.  Somehow, using the adapter I turned on the speech function so I had the computer dictating every move I made with the cursor like a seeing-eye computer.

I had many more plans and ideas, but I guess I was

Tomris the tiger

On the weekends Tolga and I are often having the kids skip their naps so we can have some time to ourselves once they are asleep.

They always wake up during this time, but the stolen moments are enough anyhow.  Tomris woke up last night whyile we were watching a show.  She came out to us (in her sleep-walk state) and said, "Ba-ba!  Why are you always up watching a show!  You need to go to bed!" and she swatted his hand.  Tolga and were giggling and I pulled her into my side.

Easy there tiger.

a day away

We dropped Teoman and Tormis off at Mina's to play today.  It's a bit unusual for the weekend, but they have been all asking all week long.

Tolga and I dropped the two off at Mina's with some simit and went to the doctor.  Tuana had to get her one-year-old shots.  She cried when she looked at the doctor.  And the shots to the leg I was a collaborator, pinning down her legs with one hand, holding her hands with with my other hand, and resting my cheek against her cheek to provide what lame comfort I could.

Some days its easier if I time it when she isn't so tired - but we are always leaving the house right when she should be sleeping because its hard to get moving in the morning.  We went to the mall to exchange something and I was a bit giddy with the freedom of only one child.  We decided to go out for a fancy lunch - to take this time for ourselves and it was perfect.  I kept snickering under my breath: heh heh heh! Because I felt like I was getting away with something.

We picked up the kids later and they didn't even put up a fight - having been warned in the morning this was the plan and I didn't want to hear it when it was over, I was still surprised they followed through and stuck to the plan.

Friday

Teoman is now taking the bus from the pre-school up the hill down to our school.  If I don't pick him up from the bus, the helper brings him to the elementary school office where he waits for me to pick him up.

He wanted it this way.  I offered to come up to him and pick him up from the school, but the bus is exciting to him.  He thinks he gets to play on it with his friends - they sit down and ride it down to us.

He sits in the chair with his coat and backpack on, always watching everything around him.  I come in and say, "Hey Peanut."  And he gets up with a half smile and some with me.

On the way out he asks everytime if he can play.  He asked for it even when there wasn't a playground, but now we walk right by one, and its hard to say no.

But the baby and Tomris await.  It's Friday and I just want to be home.

organizing therapy

Sometimes it just helps to get things organized.

I'm not talking about doing the Dewey Decimal system to my own personal library.  Or labeling all clothes and putting them in a progressive row of colors, age, or some other hyper-specific organization strategy.

I'm talking about messy locker organizing.  Not figuratively.  Literally.
Usually a disorganized low performing student has a really messy locker, and sometimes, all it takes is organizing the locker so the student can find his/her book.

I've done it in the past, set down with a chair next to a locker and kid and garbage can and went through finding my homework and packets, etc. from months previous.  I don't do it often, but today since I had to stay longer and I was afraid I'd be roped into an activity, I offered to help a student, suggesting she come during activity time.

She is my friend's kid, and she hugs me everyday and looks up to me - so I sat next to her and we emptied her locker together.  I should have taken a picture, it was an impressive collection.  In the end - among other things - we found her reading book, her missing glove, and her clarinet.

spilled milk

I stayed for our meeting today after school.  It goes from 4:05-5:30.  My schedule went like this:
4:05 - Pick up Teoman from Office.
4:10 - Join "meeting" in lounge where we holding a baby shower for two people.
4:45 - Join 5th grade department meeting and talk about specific problem students among the 8-10 of us.  (Note, this was NOT the desperately scheduled English team meeting).
5:15 - watch as other department meetings end early.
5:20 - Teacher one gets up and leaves - she "must"
5:25 - Teacher two gets up and leave - she "must"
5:30 - I leave, meeting is over.  Principal is gone.  Parking lot is empty.
5:40 - Finally get Teoman in the car and out.
6:00 - Sitting in traffic, having major meltdown.
6:40 - Home, announce I will quit my job.  Nanny says, "Don't quit. We are here for you."
6:41 - That comment helped a lot.

little hearts

It's heartbreaking to my kids cough.  Tuana woke up in the night coughing.  She couldn't sleep because she was coughing so much.  Her eyes were puffy and watery.  She would cough.  Pop her head up and say "dah!" then flop back down in my arms or on my chest.  I sat with her in the chair, right next to the vaporizer - hoping it would relieve her coughing.  I considered getting up and showering with her ... but it was the middle of the night.  Her coughing continued for what seemed like hours - and soon she became irritated, fussing in my arms out of frustration that she couldn't sleep.  And, eventually,  exhaustion overtook the coughing and we both slept.

All three kids have runny noses again.  The Turkish people would say its because the temperature has dropped ten degrees in the last couple of days.

But, it didn't stop us from making Valentine's Day cookies today.  We decorated them with left over cake decorations: frosting, sprinkles, sugar hearts, and colorful tube frosting to make pictures.

where's my place?

I think I'm regressing in maturity as I get older.

I got an email just before my first lesson denying my request to extend my milk permission.  I think the old me would have expected that - but the current me feels the blow to my pride.  How I've been grouped together with every other teacher always looking for the advantage, and who those in charge must say no on the very principal of the question.  My integrity to ask permission, my extra hours, my hard work - they are irrelevant in face of the rules.

The danger with unhappy teachers, spouses, children ... any environment really... is the frustration with one will transfer to another group.  So I found myself so extremely frustrated with my students today.  Students I am required to use technology with, but they haven't been taught the basics.  Students that their battery is dead, the computer isn't working, the account isn't opening, the internet isn't connecting... and so on.

Not to mention my tables and chairs were all moved this morning, and my electrical outlets weren't working.

So as I look at my 20 students with their individual issues, it's hard to give them grace for their individual situations when the example set to me is: no exceptions.

And this order given by a gay man with no children who is retired and lives on campus - 5 minute walk from the front door.  It's not fair for me to compare or to assume to know what the issues are, but I just did.

I guess I'm frustrated, because for once - I'm looking at a place with eyes on the next 20 years.  Is this how its going to be?

another birthday

Yesterday my mom turned 70.  She is healthy for the most part.  Happy and fully of life.  She still mothers all of us, and loves to be a grandmother.  She's a bit more unbalanced on her feet, losing muscle tone and looser skin - but her heart is like the universe, always expanding.

She spent her birthday in the hospital with my dad.  My father had hernia surgery and a prostate clean-up a couple of weeks ago, and it seems blood clotting blocked him up.  He went into the ER with bloody urine in pain, pain that he described moved beyond a ten, where morphine only brought it down to a ten.  He's had kidney stones - and he says it was worse.

My father doesn't complain much, and usually vastly understates pain or fear or any emotion really.
I wondered if it was like having a baby.

bitter-sweet

Yesterday I asked permission to extend my milk permission.  Basically to keep leaving early because I have no lessons and as long as I have no other obligations: a meeting or coverage - I had began hoping, more than I thought, that I could continue this way.

The Hawk didn't no what to say and decided to ask the director.  The director always knows what to say.  I could have said it for him.

It was hard not to feel bitter - older, retired, Americans, who think Turkish ways and permissions are over the top and not good work ethic.  International workers that live on campus, a five minute walk up the hill, have no responsibilities or obligations in or to Turkey - only to rules.

It's hard not to be disappointed.

I wrote an email to the director appealing his decision, asking him to reconsider.

every days a birthday that first year

It's full of firsts.  Each day must have at least one.

I sang Happy Birthday to Tuana a lot.  She smiled each time and bopped to the music.

She loves singing.

She was also pretty impressed with her cake.

not a moment to lose

Tomorrow Tuana turns one.  I am so happy and proud and enjoying the kids, but for work - it means tomorrow is my last day of "milk permission".  My official permission to leave work an hour and a half early every day.  The milk permission makes it so my lessons are crammed into a short time, and I have no planning time at school or home - but those stolen minutes are precious to me.

And Wednesday - my principal asked that I would stay late for a meeting to fix our English team problem.  Today, she caught me again - he cover didn't show and she saw me with my coat and book bag and asked me to watch the class while she had to find this person.  She didn't wait for an answer.

I waited at the door.  She returned unsuccessful from her mission, and I asked permission to leave.  "What will I do then?" She said thinking out loud.  "I'll have to stay here because I have no way of getting help... will you go down and tell Tumay to make an all-school-call for Tatiana."

Tumay was in the opposite direction.  Her phone was in her hand.  I did as she asked ... but motivated only by the fact that I'm going to ask for extended milk permission.

Precious minutes.  I want them all back, and more.

birthday aftermath

After school, Teoman and I picked up Tolga, went home and picked up the girls, and then drove straight to the mall for our tradition of the kids picking out one toy for themselves.  They all get to pick one toy on whoever's birthday it is.  Even Tuana.  We put a couple of choices in front of her and she grabs at everything.  We got her a rocking horse and put it away - she squeals and points everytime she sees one, or a swing, or any type of toy she can ride - so we're prettier sure it will be a hit.

Teoman got a shield and a sword - so did Tomris.  He's been playing with it all day today.  Because it was a cheap and flimsy toy, Tolga pushed him to get a "better" one.  So he left with Ironman, and Tomris with Princess Elsa.

Our kids have too many toys.

We also exchanged both of their Fenerbahce clothes and somehow ended paying double the price, getting a fancy jacket and dress or each.

Then we were all so tired we ate at the mall.

We came home and had our cake at 8pm, and had to cancel his best buddy Mina coming over because it was so late.

Hyped up on chocolate they kicked balloons around and fought about everything.

As parents, we are still bad planners, and we still get caught up in things just like them.

I kept Teoman home today as I had to stay at school late for a meeting, and I figured he'd just be overtired.  He kept his Babanne busy all dya.

Happy number Five

Teoman turned 5 years old today, and in line with this fact, he got up at five in the morning.

I was already up and he came shyly over to me, stifling a smile.  He knew.  He remembered.  It was probably the first thing his little brain thought of when he woke up: It's my birthday.

Our kids are still so young, each birthday is just exciting for Tolga and I.  I had some balloons that once I pulled the strip coming out of the balloons opening, a mini-christmas bulb was activated so I could blow up the balloon "lit".  And, since it was still dark out - it had a pretty cool effect.

Teoman also wanted to see his cake that Baba was making before he slept.  It was a chocolate, banana, strawberry, cream/pudding-in-the-middle type cake.  We took it off the balcony and examine the lopsided mess.  Tolga had got up too, and asked kind of apologetically,
"How is it?"
"It's just what I wanted," Teoman replied.
We both hugged him tight.

He wanted to wake up Tomris and Tuana to share his balloons, but we redirected him Babanne's room.  I made bacon - a package I had been saving in the fridge but pulled out on his request (but maybe influenced by me asking: what do you want special for breakfast? Bacon?)  I cooked most of it, and I don't think he ate one bit.  He sat with his chin in his hands, watching as Dede wrote him a note for his birthday, as he had asked.

They opened their Fenerbahce jersey's, the nanny came with the same gift, and we left an the sky was getting to light ... I was fifteen minutes late to my first class.

But I had already lived a whole year in those pre-dawn hours.

monday again

I was exhausted today.  Slept late.  Tuana woke up a lot (and sobbed a heart breaking sob when I finally told her to lay down - the rest of the night was spent with me holding her in my arms trying to make up for that one).

I was so tired it was hard to manage my high maintenance reading group.  I had taken another technology adventure, and was running into all its pitfalls that I can only learn the hard way, it seems.  I had made comprehension questions on Google Forms and 1) forgot to ask them to put their name.  2) some didn't have "permissions" to the document, and I don't know why 3) one didn't even receive my email.  4) Six didn't have their devices and I only had five back up devices.
pfft!

My writing class was just as exhausting because I had to leave my class to the grade lead for our grade level English meeting.  It was attempt to head off our technology/communication problems.  I was too tired though, and kept asking, what are we doing?  What should we be doing.  

While Dowd learned how to make a two column table.

like not other profession

I liked it when I could leave my work at work.  I'm back to being a real teacher.  Which means, I'm back to losing my nights and weekends to work.  Except - this is in constant conflict now with the fact that I have small children.

It makes me hate my work a little bit.
And it makes me resentful of all people in my household above eighteen who have zero responsibilities...

a bitter-sweet ceremony in February

A friend I worked with got married this week.  Tolga was the witness and we attended the Nikah with the whole family.  It was only the ceremony - held in an auditorium-type wedding center, attended by a judge and some relatives.  

The friend is American and I worked with him at my old school.  He is from Virginia, his parents Midwestern, and his bride is Turkish.  We've had many discussions about culture, life in Turkey, and cross-cultural marriages.  (He has many opinions on all topics).  I have met his parents, and he and his visiting sister have joined us for more than one Thanksgiving and Christmas. 

We've met his parents as well.  Joined them for beers or tea on the several occasions they have visited.  

Their wedding was originally scheduled for Christmas Eve.  His parents and sister had come, they had celebrated in the week coming up to the wedding, but on December 23rd, after breakfast in the hotel - Michael's parents returned to their hotel room where his mom complained of dizziness and then collapsed.  

She went into cardiac arrest.  His father did CPR, an ambulance came and they continued to work - getting a heartbeat but never respirations.  She was pronounced dead just before noon.  The wedding was postponed, and Christmas was spent struggling with the details you can never imagine in a foreign country: what to do with a body of a loved one far from home.  

So the ceremony this week was quiet.  The celebrations will done over the summer in America.  And while bitter-sweet - I'm really happy to see them married.  

a celebration

technology stumbling blocks

Our meeting today was very PC.  Confusingly so.  The Hawk directed the conversation, and did fairly well.  Dowd, who probably had prompted the meeting because she wanted good old fashion writing - always comes across cryptic to me.  I don't do cryptic well anymore.  I can't read between the lines.  I need people to just say it.  I am a good listener, and I can really push adults through their points by repeating what they are saying and asking for clarification.  Which I did for Dowd:
Are you saying technology is preventing good writing?
No.  I'm saying they aren't getting the time they need to do good writing.
Because of technology?
They did not have the time they needed.  Their end product was awful.
Dowd has 30 years experience and a Ph.D.  She is fastidious when it comes to details, inexperienced in the middle school level, and a believer in pencil and paper.  She says she supports technology, and I think she does ... but the way our year has played out - the technology has been a big detractor.  It think that was her point, but she kept insisting it wasn't.  I'm not so sure anymore.

Our technology director was a part of the meeting too.  He's 50 years old an apparently has attended a lot of leadership conferences.  He seemed to have been prepped on the problems and prepared a speech.
And he was a terrible listener.
He began his speech with his three factors to teacher frustration  - frustration being the exhaust of anxiety (I wonder what conference he learned that?).  The three factors were quite logical, I can't remember them - but something about not being equipped, not knowing expectations, and a third.  Then he launched into a general sales pitch as to what the tech department is doing to counter that with a sidebar that he is going to Brussels next year and will no longer be the director.
I piped in.

I have two suggestions.
We are like technological schizophrenics.  I understand this is our life now.  But it is also a picture of this school - we are spread so thin: Google and all its functions - mail, hangouts, docs, sheets, slides, hangouts, commenting and assigning within documents, but we also use Moodle, and Edublis and eOkul.  And some we use for the same functions.   Calendars on Moodle and Google.  Email on Google, Moodle, and Edublis.  But, if school's closed, its announced on a totally different location: the public website (none of the aforementioned).   This is leaving out WhatsApp and ClassDojo -parent and teacher favorites.    I don't know about these things - but it doesn't seem logical to have so many avenues.  I'm becoming more adept, but just because we have it, should we do it?  Isn't it more logical to centralize this information?  (No was the answer, this is the way of the world).  Then, what if we could specify or clarify the avenues of information: administrative through Google, parent through Edublis, School Activities and dates through Moodle.
His answer was: We are a Google school.  (I don't know what that means, nor do I care).
My second had to do with instruction.  You've all done this last year.  You've experienced the pitfalls and hangups - why isn't this information being passed on?  This was a mistake.  I have taught in a one-to-one laptop school in the ghetto.  I understand hangups and unpredictables.  But these - while I couldn't predict, you could have shared this with me - the most basic stuff! You say we are a Google school with pride, but our kids can't log into their accounts on shared iPads because no one taught them three vital steps.  Steps that I didn't know were even an issue until coming across them.  These issues are interrupting my teaching - interrupting English lessons in reading and writing.
His answer: I'm going to push back on that one.  Technology will always have new problems.  You don't even know about the skeleton problem.
Me: That's not push back.  That's a different topic.  My point is - these are issues experienced last year that could have been passed on this year.

People and their jargon.  Yeesh.

WILD FIRE

The Hawk came in my room today very intense-like: her eyes taking in my classroom, and me doing a sweep too - to see it as she sees it:
Children quietly milling around.  Some with books in their hand (not reading), others with computers open (not reading), others with a pencil in hand (not writing).  I was tempted to holler at few to get them in line, but I had four or five at my desk waiting for an answer on personal issues.  She realized this and said:
Can you step outside for minute?
(outside)
We have to set up a meeting.  There are some big problems happening with the fifth grade.  We have to meet to fix these problems before they turn into a WILD FIRE.  Can you come to a meeting on Friday at 2pm.
(What on Earth is she talking about?  Unattended children?  Fire drills?  Terrible reading habits during DEAR time?)
With who?
The fifth grade.
Students?
Teachers.
Ah...sure.  I already have a meeting on Fridays at 2pm - the English team meeting.
Well I'm not sure what's going on, but we've got to head it off before its a WILD FIRE.  Don't you agree?
Ah....yes?  I'm sorry, what's the problem?
Apparently there's some disagreement, and now Brooke is involved and a new teacher coming in-
-Oh, you mean a problem in the English team.
I guess.  I don't really understand the problem - I just know we need time to meet and fix it.
Yes.  It is the English team.  We do need to meet and talk through some issues.  I said that in our last meeting, we needed time.
So we will meet Friday, and can you come next Wednesday after school?
Ah... (stab me in the heart)... that is taking from my family time.
I know, but this is really important, wouldn't you agree?  We must stop this before it's a WILD FIRE.

no to the bulldozer

I've been a pretty passive person my whole life I guess.  I definitely don't like fighting, physically or verbally.  I usually take an attitude, naturally, that maybe I'm wrong.  I like reserving judgment - it least out loud - and I choose to be slow to respond.  Even in a regular conversation, I allowed myself to be talked over, butted into, interrupted - I didn't even like fighting for "air" time.

That is my Scandinavian side that weirded people out on the East Coast.  Definitely got that from my dad's side.  And I could go on a whole tangent about how refreshing living on the East Coast was, alongside a whole bunch Italian-Americans that said every thought that came to their head.

That doesn't mean I don't have my moments.  I do speak up.  I do fight.  And I can be stubborn or proud and not admit my mistakes.

But generally, I'm passive.

However, I feel things changing in me - and I'm not sure why.  Maybe it was the 40-years-old turning point, and I don't want take people's garbage anymore.  You will not bulldoze me with your noise, your words, and your opinions. 

It kind of hit my when I was in Minnesota last and Tuana was crying.  My younger sister took her from my arms and ordered me to take a shower, telling me Tuana would be fine.  Normally I would shrug my shoulders - not a big deal, she's just trying to help.  But there's nothing like a mama's baby crying to snap you out of that one.
I know my baby.  I know why she is crying - she is not manipulating me, she does not always cry.  She actually needs me, this is no ones call but mine.  Give me my baby.   
My brother did the same thing to me.  I began telling him a story about my in-laws.  The point was about Tolga and his relationship with his brothers, but the lead-up (because my stories are never short) was about my sister-in-law, her German-Turkish-ness, and the problems it's creating.
He interrupted my story to give me advice about how I should have acted around her.
Um... shut it!

Anyhow, I'm no around a whole bunch of opinionated educators.  And while I may not be the finest educator, I may not have a researched backed opinion - I do have a level head, common sense, and an opinion to be considered.

Enough is enough.