Re: Sen. Giffords

I don’t know at this point based on so many conflicting reports what is going on, how many people were injured or killed or who did it or why but I know this much: I know it is a tragedy.

Before I get angry at anyone, I am more inclined to be sad. Sad for the families of everyone involved who may not have any better idea of what is happening with their loved ones than any of us do right now.

I’m also thinking about the 31 fourth graders who I’m inevitably going to have to talk to about this on Monday morning. It’d be irresponsible of me not to. How do I explain something like this to these kids? I’m not entirely sure, but I do know that I am going to say this much to them:

Some times bad things happen to good people, and no one knows why. It’s sad. And it’s okay to feel sad and to tell people you feel sad.

Whoever did this was motivated by hate. Hate is the most dangerous feeling in the world. The second you feel yourself feeling hate towards someone or something, you need to stop whatever it is you are doing, back away from the situation, take a few deep breaths and tell yourself that you are better than that.

My classroom has a wide variety of kids with a wide variety of talents and abilities and from a wide variety of backgrounds. Some of the kids in my class have parents who drive luxury SUVs and are already fretting about whether their kid will get into the Ivy League school they themselves went to. Some of my kids live in government housing and have parents who work two or three jobs to try to support them. Some of my kids will be recruited for colleges I couldn’t get into. Some will be recruited for gangs.

But this is a message they all need to hear, and that I think we all need to think about right now while the details of this unfold:

Hate and violence are never the answer, and nothing but more hate and violence and chaos will come from them.

Love and empathy is what we need more of. Instead of thinking about pointing fingers right now, we should be feeling love and empathy and sadness for the family of the people involved in this tragedy.

And that’s all I’m ever going to say about this: to you all or my students or anyone.

Fun Stuff About Student Teaching: Vol I

So, despite the fact that the little buggers have ALREADY gotten me woefully woefully ill, and that some of them are clearly trying to get me to develop a facial tic, so far all is well in Teaching Land.

My favorite thing so far? I have amassed a “fan club” so far consisting of a few of the girls in my class. Everything I do or say or wear is “TOTALLY COOL OMG MS. MENDELSOHN!”. Yeah, it’s totally silly and ridiculous, but for someone who has felt decidedly uncool her whole life, it’s really kind of fun. You should have seen their faces when I told them that the bracelet I was wearing used to be a spoon, and that I bought it on Etsy for $12. They’re just starting to develop their own little personal senses of style and it’s truly adorable. I remember being their age and AGONIZING over which scrunchie I would wear on my wrist that day.

It’s such a fun age: they’re all still very baby-faced and cute but I can sort of see the little adults they’ll eventually become starting to take shape, slowly. They’ve all got their own unique and intense personalities and interests and yet they still have that collective bond of kid-ness and can coexist peacefully for the most part without the ‘tudes and cliques that will appear any minute now.

Also there’s a hot janitor. No, really. A hot janitor. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I’m pretty sure the janitor at my school was 95 years old (so in reality he was, like, 45) and all I remember is that he smoked in his tiny office and put the cigarette butts in an old Eight O’Clock coffee can that seemed perpetually filled to the brim and yet always managed to accommodate his next butt, snubbed out hastily before having to go inevitably mop up some kid’s vomit.

It’s funny the things we remember. I guess I just hope that, even though I’ll only be with them for a few months, at least a few of these kids will remember me. And that they won’t remember me as being 95 years old.