what its like to feel neurotic (or thereabouts)

now that i'm done teaching i'm able to come back to this post (from 3/30 at 11:42 pm) and read it and kind of laugh at myself. in the throes of teaching, this is what was going on in my brain. certainly it sucked then and i'm happy to not be doing it now but there's more to it than that...

i don't know what has been going on with my brain since late last week, but I feel like I've been physically unable to create anything for my lesson plans. there's no investment and no desire to start work. i'm afraid of it and it's getting to me. i sit at my computer in fear of starting because i don't know exactly what i want to do and i feel like there's so many options for how i could teach something or what to do, but i'm afraid of new things and i always end up just doing what i always do. especially now though, i don't think what i've done is working to its best and i think there are probably better activities or things to do or whatever, but i just don't know what they are.

time is my enemy. instead of getting things done i fuck arouund on the internet and then look at my watch and realize anotehr 43 minutes has gone down the drain without me doing anything. that's another thing - the internet has consumed my life. i probably check the same web pages 10-15 times a day for no fucking reason and i get sucked in each and every time. i need to set up some system where i figure out how to control my internet addiction because it's runining my abilities to be productive at all. i think part of the reason i never do good lesson plans anymore is because i know no matter how amazing the lesson is, something will fuck it up or set it off course or i'll forget to do something or kids won't know what's going on or they won't be able to do something or it will take too much time or whatever and it's just making it hard for me right here and right now at 11:47 on monday night to sit down and make a lesson plan for tomorrow about introduciton paragraphs because i don't know exactly what students need to improve on and even if i did exactly what i'd do to help them get better at it because i suck at coming up with creative ideas and its killing me and my students but mostly me because then i feel awful about myself as i sit at my computer or as i got to sleep or when i get up in the morning sleep deprived and depressed that i have to go teach another crappy lesson. there's also a ton of stuff piling up that i haven't done like grading journals and grading quizzes form last week and tracking them and sending themt rob at some point to check student progress, which i really don't think there was any of on the last assessment i gave.

the added pressure of more and more things to do makes it less likely that i get any one particular task completed and when i do i think its some great victory and then start fucking around when really i should be moving down the list of things to do but i don't because i hate doing these kinds of things and putting in the work after nine oclock on a fucking weeknight and i jsut wish i could chill out a bit because it's tough to get up at 7 in the monrning, teach all day then go to track practice and then to the chiropractor and after that i stopped at the grocery store to buy some necessities and then i rememberd that i needed a gift for gilson but i already told karl i'd run so i got home and we went out running then i ate dinner which i luckily didn't have to make otnight because i did it last night, so after that i went to rite aide to pick up gilson's gift and then talked to brittany on the phone for a half an hour and then wasted time utnil karl and i made a lunch and am now wasting more time but i think it's been important for me to get down these thoughts so that i can come back to them at some point and remember how awful, nervous, scared, helpless, powerless, uncreative, tired, and pathetic i feel because i can't come up with a solid lesson plan in the last two months of school.

i thought running would do the trick but because i've been such a fuck i haven't gotten anything done and it's too late to get up in the morning to run especially since i told one of my students i'd meet him for tutoring today at 7:30 in the morning and i think running might be something that could help me but i've got to get to bed before 11 to do that. maybe i just need a change of scenery and should do my work somewhere else. i wihs my brian wasn't so clogged with things to do, especially those little unimportant things or those long term things that i can't qutie hammer out the details for yet but i know i need to have them on a list or something so that i don't foret about them.

May

Today is May 1.  I've been waiting for this month for a long time.  TFA is winding down.  I got my end of year TFA survey in my email this afternoon.  TCAP is over.  End of year exams are quickly approaching.  

I can foresee myself becoming nostalgic about teaching at some point in the future.  Earlier this week I had the thankless job of taking pictures of 'Student Exhibition' projects and renaming the nearly 600 files with student names and ID numbers.  It was a pain.

As I was renaming files, and not teaching on Wednesday, the noises from the hallway caught my attention.  There were to be no students in my room that day - no one knocking on the door, writing a journal, or knowingly ignoring whatever it is I say in front of my class.  Listening to the din of changing classes, I realized  in a month I won't ever be in a classroom again.  At that moment, I would rather have been directing the chaos in my classroom than digitally cataloging student work and listening to music.  It was quite a revelation.

Today, May 1, in my last class of the day, my two students (3 were absent) had finished their work early and we were just relaxing and listening to some durangense (Mexican music for the uninitiated).  An eigth grader, who I've taught for two years, said, "Mr. Golden, I can't believe I'm saying this, but next year I'm going to miss you."  It was a nice thing to say and something I really hadn't considered any of my kids possibly saying to me.  I think this is something I'll think about when I'm not teaching in a couple of years.  Not the start to May that I expected, or the post I expected to make near the end of this whole thing, but certainly a happy one. 

March

After resolving myself to do some asskicking, I've reached March unsure of how much ass I've kicked.  Part of  me feels like I haven't done much teaching since before Martin Luther King Jr. day.  We've had the Inauguration, 2 x 2 day school wide assessments, snowday, sick day, parent conferences day, and other random chunks of days that were just lopped off of my teaching schedule.  I entered the beginning of 2009 with many of these obstacles in mind, and unfortuantely more were added along the way.  Despite making fun of my housemate for lamenting the 'lack of instructional time' earlier in the year, I've strated doing the same thing.  

This lost time adds up to teaching that isn't quite as good as it could be, or learning that isn't quite as extensive as it should be.  Coping with this shortened teaching time, among other things, has been difficult for me.  TFA instills mindsets that have really taken hold.  Right now, those mindsets are doing battle with what I see in the classroom.  TFA says that everything that happens in your classroom is up to you.  Student failures - your fault.  Student successes - your fault.  TFA says that deep down, all students/parents want what is best for the students - namely a high quality education.  What TFA says, though, isn't always what happens.

Confronting real situations has put a hurting on my confidence and made me constantly question my own work ethic.  Schedules have made my teaching periods erratic; my curriculum is out of synch and jumbled around.  Directives from my administration pull me in different directions than I want to go.  After 1.75 yeras with one student, our relationship has finally gotten to the point physical escalation, near expulsion, and him being moved to the other ESL class.  Unfortunately, for him, this class is nowhere near as rigorous as mine.  What frustrates me is that he's getting exactly what he wants, which is a less challenging education.  Instead of forcing him to deal with me get an education, everyone is fine with rewarding his awful behavior and giving up on him.  

Are the failures in behavior and academic achievement really my sole responsibility?  Were the failures avoidable?  What should I have done differently along the way?  If students really want what's best for them, why did I fail to get my difficult students to see that?  

To reassure me that I've produced some difference in my students, people say 'just being there makes a difference', or 'you can't save everyone'.  To some extent, these sentiments are true, and pragmatically this is probably the way I should look at my situation.  Unfortuantely, TFA has made me obsessed with evaluating my performance and my efforts.  I end up always wondering what more I could have done, and what more could I do in the future if I just worked a little smarter, or messed around on the internet a little less, or thought about teaching a particular lesson with more exciting different strategy (this ring...this watch...these earrings).  I know, realistically, that I can't be a TFA and teaching robot, and I feel a bit guilty about that.  As awful as being a TFA robot would be, it might make my teaching self esteem a big higher.  

Perhaps, like Boyce, I need a little distance to reflect on what I've done in Memphis and what Memphis has done to me.

I've applied to work at Institute in Atlanta.  Hopefully my TFA spirit rebounds at the end of the year.

Obama

Currently sitting in my classroom, N207, at HRMS in Memphis, TN.  I'm watching the inauguration ceremony of Barack Obama.  It's awesome.

Ass Kicking

Memphis is in for an ass kicking.  I am returning to the city tomorrow.  I am leaving the comfort of Philadelphia / Haverford / Hershey / Pittsburgh for the second to last time.  For the last week, I've been dreading this upcoming Sunday.  I've got to become that other person.  Mr. Golden.  Lesson plans.  Assessments.  Performing.  Reprimanding.  It is a difficult transition.  Trying to always improve your teacing is no walk in the park.  But instead of being paralyzed by what I have to do, I am going to kick its ass.  Look out.

Things I did over winter break:

*Turned down a free round trip and a stay in a Chicago airport hotel  to make sure I got to Philly in one day's worth of air travel.

*Regretted not buying bros Central BBQ shirts.

*Played tackle football with the Horsham guys.

*Ice skating with Brittany in South Park - we practiced on the baby rink for a bit, then ventured over to the hockey rink.  She held her own.  I was lucky enough to go without falling as well, unlike Jan 07 in NYC when I busted my hip on the last go round.  

*New Year's eve with Brittany in Hershey.  We hit up a nice restaurant, had some champagne, and watched the Dick Clark / Ryan Seacrest / Kelly Pickler team.   Besides the Dick Clark stuff, it was a fantastic, if slightly lower key night than Goat City parties in the past.

*Hanging with the Goats, eating at Bella.

Things I did over Thanksgiving:

*Dinner at Brittany's.  Kind of scary with the whole mythology about meeting relatives and doing holidays with them.  Definitely a different crowd than my usual Thanksgivings with the bros and the parents.  The average age of the people at the dinner besides Brittany and I was probably 65-70.  Some interesting conversations that seemed typically elderly, namely complaining about kids wearing pants below their waists.  Literally.

Things I did over fall break (way back in October).  

*Pennsylvania Reanaissance Fair with Brittany in Hershey.  Saw a sword swallower.  Drank some fine beer.  Took in a couple of shows.  Heard a lot of people say 'Thank ye' and other ole Enlgish slangs.  Definitely a highlight of my semester.

Memphis' Next Top Model

Today I proctored these ludicrous assessments in the auditorium.  I was in there with one other teacher and about 70 kids.  One 6th grade girl, cute as a button, says to me, "Mr. Golden, I just told her that I think you should be a supermodel."  She said it with all honesty and sincerity.  I was flattered.  Being a supermodel seems more appealing than being a teacher, certainly. 

Summer 2k8

As it gets cold, and as it gets lonelier down here in Memphis (schoolwork is not a good best friend), I figured reflection on the summer would be a good antidote.  With the duties of photjournalist for my school's exhibition of student work this pat week, I refamiliarized myself with photos from this summer.  Here are some of the highlights.

Trouble's Birthday Party.  Good to see the Goats.  Nathan Patton broke my watch, however.

Danny's Graduation.  

Brittany's Family's cabin in central PA.  On the trip I was reading 'Into the Wild'.  Felt tough using an outhouse and shooting a gun up there.  Lot of quality time with Brittany's parents.

Pirates Game and Kennywood Park.  Bought cheap seats at PNC Park.  Beautiful view of the city.  Enjoyed some Quaker Steak N Lube wings before the game.  We walked around the park where the 3 rivers meet, had a few brews at a bar, then went to the game.  Unfortunatley, the game was postponed and we stood around for an hour or so in the rain, then went home.  Also went to Kennywood Park sometime during that week.  Brittany convinced me to go on one of those rides that goes straight up and then just drops you.  I was the one freaking out.  Think the swings or the pirate ship may have been  my favorite.

Cait Schopp's Wedding.  Standard Brittany pose.  Reception and hotel pool / grotto were outstanding.  

Wildwood.  We went to Wildwood the day after the reception.  We had no hotel reservations, which was a big concern of ours.  Got into Wildwood around 7, checked out about 35 hotels / motels in the Crest, but found that they all had no vacancies.  Luckily, the Pier6600, a place Brittany's family always stayed, came through, and we found a room for a reasonable price considering the circumstances.  Extremely relaxing to be at the beach with Brittany - couldn't have asked for a better close to the summer.  Maybe the weather could've been nicer.

Yankees game at Yankee Stadium.  Day after we got back from Wildwood, we headed up to NYC to catch a Yankees game.  I was really happy that my dad was able to take us up there.  He'd been talking about it for so long, and it was great that we all got to go up there.  Brittany and I were a little tired, but we made it through.  

 I think writing about this in August would've brought my spirits down a notch, since I'd be so far removed from all of this.  Luckily, in a little more than a week, I'm heading home and to Pittsburgh for Thanksgiving.  First time I'll be doing a holiday at Brittany's - will just be great to be with her for a bit, despite all the extra fanfare.

Stay Positive

Last year I recall being fairly stubborn when it came to something that Ari said about having faith in all of her kids, even the most brazenly defiant, that they can do great things.  With TFAY2 1/4 finished, I have been leaning more heavily on positivity in the classroom as a method of 'discipline'.  I am fed up with the absurd power struggles that go on between every person at my school, every second of the day.  I dont' want to continue presenting a false front as a tough guy disciplinarian because it doesn't work.  It runs a bit deeper than being fed up, though; I think I'm realizing students won't change paths in life unless they start believing in their own ability to get things done.

One eighth grader in my class, JL, is a student who I had last year.  He's a good soccer player and a capable student when he chooses to perform tasks.  He's a likable guy.  At the same time, he is totally erratic in class, in the hallways, and everywhere in between.  Simply put - he does what he wants.  JL, though, frequently does things that teachers intimidate him into doing with their physical presence or straight up threats.  That's not really how I operate, and when I have tried to operate that way, it didn't work.  This year with JL, I'm trying to be shower him with praise at every opportunity I get.  I want him to be sick of me telling him how good of a job he is doing, even if it's only for focused behavior that lasts for 30 seconds.

Last year, I specifically was thinking of JL when Ari was telling us we should believe that all of our kids can do well and that they need reinforcement and hope.  With JL, I get glimpses of the good student he can be.  The last expository essay that he wrote (yes, he sometimes does his work) was light years better than the essay he wrote back in August, despite his goose egg in he homework column for the whole year.  JL gets ripped into by teachers every day - his science teacher told me she was in his face the other day giving him the business (a different business than lil wayne's).  I used to be all about that approach too, but realized it was doing anything to get JL to change his act. 

I'm taking the positivity approach because I believe he needs it.  He doesn't get it from teachers, he doesn't get it from his mother and step father, and he doesn't get it from the bilingual counselor.  They've given up on him or have chosen to take the hard line approach.  I also believe he can choose to do his work well while following standard school etiquette, instead of his own etiquette.  I see it here and there and now I've just got to make him realize that he can do that  more often.  It hasn't worked yet, but I've got something like 130 days to keep trying.

Ole Miss vs. Samford (9/20)

Gilson had the awesome idea of getting down to Oxford, MS to see the Rebels play against Samford in a classic good team beats the crap out of bad team game. Karl, naturally, was away for the weekend, choosing to go woo his ladyfriend's family into letting him marry their daughter. After spending Friday night watching CNN and killing a couple brews, it was a welcome change to have something planned to get us the heck out of Midtown Memphis.

Early Saturday, Gilson and I got up and put in a solid 10 on the roads of Memphis. Aiming to head out by 11:00 or so, we scarfed down breakfast after the run and hit the road. This was only my third journey into the territory that is Mississippi. Once we got a few miles down in I-55, we knew we weren't in Memphis anymore – open fields, no neighborhoods, and beautiful looking schools greeted us driving on the path to Oxford.

On the way down, I got started thinking about the history of Mississippi and segregation. Gilson and I talked about how unlikely it was for a white person in MS to vote for Obama in the election. It's boggling to think that there are still people alive who actively participated in the racial segregation of the country. How in the world could those same people elect a black President? Probably couldn't, we guessed. Yet, certainly some children of those segregationist southerners would be voting for Obama. I was trying to work out in my head how kids could grow up in that environment and not feel uncomfortable voting for Obama. My limited interactions with souther belles have given me some insight into the different types of people that still come out of the South. Anyways back to the adventure of the game.

We got down to Oxford in about an hour and half. It took us a while to find where to park – we drove onto the campus, got turned around a few times, and then finally circumnavigated most of the school and ended up parking off campus. We passed sorority and fraternity rows, which house some of the most hilarious people I've had contact with down here in Memphis. Surprisingly, we thought, there wasn't too much trouble finding parking that was only about a 10 minute walk from the stadium.

After parking, we walked over towards the Grove, the location of one of the best tailgates in the SEC. Not really having any idea where to go, we followed the general flow of people. We got on campus right around 1pm. Strangely though, we heard no noise coming from the football stadium. In fact, we could see tons of empty seats instead of frenzied, drunk Rebs fans. We walked through the Grove, and saw that it was only beginning to fill up. The tailgate parties were still in their sober stages.

Gilson and I made a costly mistake – the game was scheduled for 6pm, rather than 1pm. We felt like morons and regretted our coming down so early, but instead of thinking clearly, we panicked. Rather than embracing the 5 hour wait as a direct sign from God to party with his disciples at the Grove, we got scared, sold our tickets to a scalper, and got the hell out of there. Soon we regretted our hasty retreat and I second guessed us the whole way home. Only if we weren't stupid enough to leave for the game without checking for what time it started. It would have certainly been the perfect evening outing with Gilson, my new BFF.       

Who am I?

I am a small ripple in a sea of bull shit.

Sorry for not updating more.  They are waiting in the wings.

In the Car: Memphis > Philadelphia

My first year in Memphis came to a quick end. On Sunday of Memorial Day weekend I went to a Redbirds game. Monday I chilled out. Tuesday I cleaned up my room, Wednesday I moved stuff into my new room (N207!) and was out of school for good by 11am. I took my car to get two new tires before I drove back to Philly for the summer. Packed on Wednesday, picked up Brittany at the airport on Thursday morning, went to Rendezvous for dinner Thursday evening, packed some more, and on Friday morning Brittany and I set off on our road trip to Philadelphia. Felt really good to see Brittany. Our itinerary went like this:

Friday (5/31): drive through Mississippi and Alabama and arrive in Atlanta Friday afternoon to hang out with John Washington (HH '03 and Emory '07 alum).



Apparently, other than Birmingham, Alabama has zero rest stops, restaurants, or buildings that include bathrooms. Alabama proved prettier than Mississippi but came up short when we were trying to find a place to eat and a place to go to the bathroom. You know how interstates have those blue signs right before exits that show you what restaurants and gas stations are off the exit? Well, Alabama had those, too, but their signs were totally blank. No place for unlucky motorists to pull over and grab a bite. We got off at one exit, drove on the new road for a bit, turned around, and pulled over on the on-ramp of 78 to relieve ourselves.

Got to ATL, parked downtown and then walked around Centennial park. Stopped in the CNN Center, where I thought of Karl and Brian and watching primary returns, then walked over to the World of Coke. We didn't have much time, so Brittany had the excellent idea of checking out Coke's gift-shop rather than taking the actual tour. Met John and his gigantic office tower, then went out for some food. Grabbed a few beers at night, then got up Saturday to go for a run before setting off to SC.

Saturday: drive from ATL to Seneca South Carolina to spend a night at Brittany's cousin's new house.

Short 2 hour drive up to Brittany's cousins. She took the wheel for the first time this trip and things went very smoothly. She has really matured as a driver under my tutelage - when we started dating, she was terrified of merging onto highways, but now does it pretty well.


We got in to her cousin's house (Hayden and his wife Katie) around 1pm and set out for some hiking around 2pm. Hayden and Katie are both paramedics, so for most of the time I was left out of whatever medical conversation they were having with Brittany. I actually felt pretty uncomfortable for a while, but once we got to hiking, there was less conversation for me to feel awkward about.



We drove up the mountains to visit a couple of waterfalls and an abandoned train tunnel that was begun in the 1860s but eventually stopped after the mountain proved too hard to dig into. I was impressed by Brittany's willingness to walk into a quarter mile long dark hole and climb up and down rocky trails. She was afraid of some lizards that we saw, but generally she was looking tough. I was even a bit rattled walking into the railroad tunnel, but it was fun and a relief from the heat.



Sunday: drive from SC to Clemmons North Carolina to spend a night at Brittany's aunt's house.

Drove out early on Sunday morning and got in around noon. Had some lunch and hung out for a bit before going par 3 golfing at this beautiful park by Brittany's Aunt Nettie's house. 18 holes had us roasting and burnt pretty good, but it was a lot of fun. Brittany could use some (lots, she's never golfed) work on her golf game - mine was also not pretty. It was strange inserting ourselves into her Aunt's family for an afternoon, but I liked everyone's unique personality. I thought her younger cousin, who just finished his 9th grade year, is a lot like Danny was, and I had fun giving him a hard time here and there. Brittany's older cousin had a 1 year old baby and I was totally clueless about how to interact with a fat, speechless, tiny human being - it was fun, though.

Monday: drive from NC to Alexandria Virginia, just outside of DC, to spend a night at my Aunt Roberta / Uncle JQ's house and meet my cousins John and Owen.

Other than spending a ton of time with Brittany, this was probably the leg of the trip I was anticipating the most. My aunt and uncle have two kids, John (7) and Owen (5), who I hadn't met yet.


My pops had said they act like James and I did when we were annoying little kids - so I was looking forward to it. This driving leg was pretty long and Brittany took the middle of it at the end of NC and going through Richmond. In the middle of this leg, at Wendy's, I realized that only people over 70 drive Buick Centuries. We sat down for lunch behind a group of old, dolled up Souther women gossiping over the local news, and I wondered aloud how many of them were driving Centuries. Sure enough, a gold Century was parked in the handicapped spot and probably belonged to one of those souther belles.


Brittany gave me the insightful advice of getting the kids a gift, so we stopped at Rite Aid and bought them an indoor basketball net / ball, which offered some of the best sports battles of my childhood with James and Andy. Pretty much chilled out at night - had dinner with their family, then the kids went to bed pretty soon afterwards, and Brittany and I watched the Penguins - Red Wings game. The next morning, John and Owen were up early, attacked me right after I woke up, and started pummeling me with pillows and balls for about 15 minutes as their parents were getting ready. They really took it to me - it was fun. We ran and then headed for downtown around 11 am.


Tuesday: spent day in DC, meet Cait Schopp and Laura Gavinski in evening, spent night at Laura's house.

Brittany's knowledge of dinosaurs is severely lacking, which I found out when we got into the Natural History Museum. The bros and I grew up on dinosaurs - so I was blown away that she didn't know what a Tyrannosaurus was. And people call me sheltered!! Also hit up the Native American museum - it was horrendous and would offend Boyce to the fullest. The 'Native American' food in the cafeteria was amazing, however.


Tiring day walking on the mall, so it was nice when we got to sit by the L'enfant metro plaza and wait for Cait. In some senses, I was jealous of people walking down to the metro. They had so much purpose. And they had an office to leave behind. Few of them probably took their work home with them and they were running to get on a subway that would whisk them close to home without driving through traffic. DC also seems to have the highest percentage of people who walk around in suits - everywhere you go on the Mall you see suits. I was sweating walking around in shorts and a T - how could people walk around in suits? Hit up a happy hour with Cait and Laura, then a Thai restaurant at night.


Wednesday (6/5): leave DC and head to home in Horsham Pennsylvania.

Brittany and I got up early so that'd we'd be able to run down to the Washington Monument area and check out the things we missed on Tuesday. It was a 2 hour odyssey that started out with me running back to Laura's house and running around Capitol Hill for 10 minutes trying to catch up to Brittany - I missed a turn. Ran down the Mall to the Monument, WWII memorial, reflecting pool, Vietnam memorial, Lincoln memorial, and then to the White House. Should've brought my camera, but didn't quite feel like running with it. Total running was 50 minutes - we took the metro back to Union Station and jogged back to Laura's house before setting out for Philadelphia.


Driving out of DC, we almost got smashed into by a crazed minivan driver who was trying to outrun the cops on the Beltway around DC. The van sideswiped a car just behind me and to my right before roaring past me and skidding around the corner of an exit ramp.

Pulled into my driveway after 1250 miles or so. We went and saw Sex and the City in the afternoon (what, you're too cool for that movie?) and tried to see the Phillies on Thursday. We took the subway down to the stadium, but the game was sold out. Hung our heads (this was failed attempt #2 to see a Philly sports team after going all the way to the stadium) and went to South Street for a while, which was relaxing and enjoyable. Drove Brittany to the airport on Friday morning (a bummer she couldn't make Trouble's bday party) - we totaled 1337 miles together over a week's worth of driving. It was a perfect start to my summer (other than failing to see the Phillies).

T-minus 10 weeks until Year 2 begins

Topics covered in this ridiculously long post: end of year, 8th grade week, conversation with football coach about student achievement, TCAP writing scores for my 8th graders, thoughts on racial implications of Iron Man.

Two days ago, on Friday the 23rd, students left Hickory Ridge Middle School for summer vacation. Some left around 3:30, others left at 9:15pm. Unfortunately, I left at 9:15pm too. As the culmination of '8th grade week', we had a prom for the 'graduating' 8th graders that went from 6-9 pm. Being that gas prices have soared and I live 15 miles from school, I decided to stay at school until the end of prom. My last day at school turned out to be the longest day of the year - I got there about 7:45 and left 13.5 hours later. What a dedicated teacher I am!!!

I was ok with staying so late at school because it's the last time I'll need to do so for a while. I was also ok with staying late at school because our dances are so ridiculous. Watching young black kids dance is a sight to behold. They do things that white kids can't. My three favorite songs of the night - 'Crank Dat', 'Get Silly', and 'Talkin Out Da Side of Ya Neck'. I saw some new variations to Soulja Boy's smash-hit dance that just had me cracking up. The kids have so much fun dancing - way more fun than I think anyone ever had at dances I went to in middle school - that it is enjoyable to watch. It also made me jealous that I suck so much at dancing compared to them.

On Thursday of 8th grade week, my school held a 'promotion' ceremony that most students / parents / teachers were calling a 'graduation'. I sat next to the CDC (special ed) teacher, who's an understandably jaded person when it comes to MCS, and we discussed the reasons / implications of this ceremony being called a graduation. She observed that 75% of these kids won't have a high school graduation, and that this is really all they've got. I'm not quite sure about those statistics, but her point stands that some of these kids and families won't have much to celebrate 4 years from now. She also mentioned that this ceremony is typical of the low expectations of MCS - moving to 9th grade is seen as some great accomplishment (mostly by parents and the students) rather than a taken-for-granted-step towards something bigger. Both of her thoughts resonated with my TFA tilted brain.

That Thursday afternoon I had a discussion with the football coach about 'tracking' students for different life paths - college prep versus vocational stuff. Not sure how this discussion came up during dismissal, but I think it might have been started when he shared that most of his class would only score 50% on his 6th grade social studies final. Coach and I are on opposite sides of the ideological spectrum. He's a middle aged, white, Republican, veteran teacher, who grew up in the sticks of Arkansas and earned everything he's got. I'm an idealistic, change-happy, yankee, rookie TFAer whose inexperience in the teaching world means that I still think I can make a difference.

After Coach said this, I countered that tracking would inherently place black and hispanic kids, like those in our school, in lower tracks, while the white kids living out in Cordova, TN (a Memphis burb) would be placed in the higher tracks. The asst football coach (a younger, white, U of Memphis grad, whose political leanings are somewhere in between) had joined the conversation at this point and added that black kids come into school with a hugely disadvantaged vocabulary and are already 2 academic years behind white kids. Coach knows that I'm TFA, but he surely wasn't aware of how trained (and convinced!) I am to challenge these exact ideas.

Basically, I contended that it is possible to catch these kids up and that teachers at our school aren't working hard enough to do so. I used one example of a teacher that both of us know is full of shit and doesn't do a lick of teaching to say that there are certainly others like her at our school and throughout MCS who are not working their asses off to catch kids up. I also shared the success of TFAers at Kingsbury High (Karl's school), where 4 first years run the math department. They improved scores on the diploma-deciding Algebra I Gateway exams by 30 percentage points to 93% passing. Coach was trying to say he'd be able to focus on catching kids up if it wasn't for the 'knotheads' (behavior problems) in his classes. I said, those teachers at Kingsbury have as many knotheads as you do, but they're doing it.

Coach and his asst then decided that either they are exceptional teachers, or there is something going on with discipline at Kingsbury. I responded, the thing going on at Kingsbury is that they have 16 TFA teachers, who even though they have no formal training, and are first years, are making these huge improvements. By this point it was 3:30, and we started walking in, but I think I won that particular argument.

Afterwards, his comments got me thinking - either TFA teachers are actually exceptional in their abilities and work ethic, OR, the teachers in MCS are really that terrible that a bunch of rookies can come in and do their job way better than they can. Coach conceded that MCS teachers aren't willing to put in the effort that we put in and don't have the same work ethic.

On Monday of 8th grade week, we went to see Iron Man in a rented out theater. The beatiful 'Paradiso' and luxurious stadium seating - tons of leg room and nice, loose backed chairs with a good, springy recline - was a welcome change from teaching kids. I had thought I was going to stay and hold classes for 7th graders, but I got a call over the PA early in 2nd period to report down to go with the buses for the 8th grade trip.

Early on in Iron Man, when Robert Downie Jr. shared the screen with Gwyneth Paltrow, I couldn't help but wonder how the black and hispanic kids in the audience interpreted the racial makeup of the cast on screen. Terrence Howard, a Philly boy, was the only black guy in the movie, and was in a supporting role at that. After rarely seeing white adult males in or out of school, here these kids were watching white actors throughout the movie. Karl likened it to a grade full of white kids going to see that Christmas movie about a black family that came out last year (which, hilariously, I have no idea of that movie's name). I think it just really highlights the racial separation that still exists - black and white people are still so unfamiliar with each other and culturally divided.

I also thought the portrayal of the Afghani rebels in the beginning of the movie would have a negative impact on the way the mostly black audience would react to middle eastern people in real world situations. There's one Saudi Arabian student in the 8th grade class, and I felt like he could be a recipient of these negative attitudes. Combined with war-on-terror based portrayals of the middle east, I am fairly confident that these black students do not have an unbiased way to interact with people from the middle east.

Thursday I checked out my students' TCAP writing scores from the state exam they took in February. 4 of my students passed the exam with a score of '4', and 10 of them scored a '3', one point below passing. I think these scores of '3' are slightly ludicrous, considering a girl who wrote in a giant block of text with either one period or many incorrect periods got the same score as multiple students who craft good sentences with clear paragraphs. There's one girl who I thought would get a 4 that did not, and then 3 kids I thought had good chances of getting 4s that did not.

The end of year joy has not quite hit me yet - I still have one day of clean up / close out at school and I have my TFA end of year conversation. Today I am doing my best to take advantage of free time by completely wasting it. I've been surfing the net, writing this post, sleeping in, and sitting in a chair for basically the whole day. Pretty nice, but I'll enjoy it more later this week when Brittany comes down and we start the trek back towards Philadelphia through Atlanta, Charlotte, and DC. Should be a great way to leave Memphis and really start my summer!

mista Go-den, I can use yo phone?

First off, if you know Josef Bartels and haven't checked out his phenomenal blog about the Peace Corps (hm, another corps) in Ukraine, you're missing out. He's had some incredible times and he updates way more often than I do (though this is my third in May).

Was joking with Karl driving back from the library about the way black kids - and some of my Hispanic kids - form questions. Rather than using the verb in the first position, kids in Memphis keep the verb in the second position and just change their intonation. That day one of Karl's high schoolers said, "mista Hoesch, I can see yo phone?" Karl responded, "Yes, I can see it too, it's over there on my desk." For the next 30 minutes or so, I repeated, "mista go-den, I can use yo phone?" and laughed every time I said it.

A couple months ago I encountered another ludicrous question, though it was not exactly the same short-cut method of inflection-oriented questions. As I was passing through the 6th grade hallway to get to my room, a girl stopped, me and blurted/screeched, "mista go-den, ain't I'm quiet?" I stopped for a second, and repeated slightly incredulously, "ain't I'm quiet?" She insistently repeated the phrase. I answered a curt "Nope," and continued down the hallway. This particular student has possibly the most annoying/loudest voice of any girl in the 6th grade and she wanted me to agree with her that she was quiet! Ha.

Two days ago this same girl asked me some question and ended it by saying, "Is you?" I said, "Am I?" She said, "ya, is you?" I said, "No."

Here's a short list of more of the inflection questions:

mista go-den, I can sharpen my pencil?
mista go-den, I can use it?
mista go-den, I can use the restroom?
mista go-den, I can get some tissue?

The Iowa Test of Basic Skills

The first section of the test is 42 vocabulary questions. Students are presented with sentence fragments that include underlined words. After glancing through the words, I immediately know my kids will be totally clueless on every question. This is confirmed when even my best students look 100% confused and say, "This is too hard." By the tone of their voices, I know they feel defeated. I only say in response, "Do your best, finish every question and make a guess if you have to." The 129 ESL and resource students sitting in the auditorium will do terribly on this test. Good thing someone decided to have them take it - otherwise we wouldn't know that these kids have trouble reading and don't have expansive vocabularies.

The following words were on the vocabulary section of the test:

abide
bedraggled
trek
ruptured
hostile
reluctant
moody
irritation
bewilder
dilapidated
gale
capacity
signify
provoke
impish
devise
forked
luster
cropped
crest adequate

Two days later most of my kids took their final exam for my class (writing a 5 PG essay). While some really showed improvement and made me feel like they'd learned something, others wrote in exactly the same manner they did at the beginning of the year. It hurt to watch kids continue to write in one giant block rather than paragraphs. It also hurt when one kid just flat out refused to write anything. Called his mom, sat down with the asst. principal and he's still resisting writing it. Lots of different emotions at the end of the year. I'm in a slightly happier place than a couple weeks ago and that whole mess with my car; though I have to drop another $200-$250 to get 2 of my tires replaced before my journey home to Philly.

May

Months ago, I envisioned May being a time for celebration. Nice weather, Memphis in May, the impending cessation of school. Unfortunately, the month has started with the type of day I need to forget but have a hard time doing so (mostly because the day is still happening).

Car was at the shop today to repair a break problem: $280. Shop closes at 5pm - but I got there on time. My debit card forgot to go with me though - I left it in my jeans pocket, rather than my wallet. Currently car-less, but they open at 7am, so shouldn't be too much hassle.

Years of lower leg pain continue to haunt me and I've been cautious about throwing down the mileage. Luckily there are no races to train for, so it won't affect any performances.

I am submerged in chaos at school - I get walked on by 13 year olds every morning from 8:45-9:45, and on occasions between 12:25 and 3:05. In the middle of the year I shrugged these days off and got ready for the next. Now, that fall-back is accelerating my drop rather than slowing it down. Kids see the end of the year, other teachers see the end of the year, I see the end of the year. It's strange not having the cushion of learning time on the horizon. Daily success becomes more unlikely, yet problems (learning and management) become more apparent and guilt me into wanting to fix them immediately. Whether or not my attempted solutions make any headway this year, they will surely teach me lessons about what to do next year. I need a better foundation of learning and management to make sure this doesn't happen again - because then I'm really done. There are no second chances after May 2009.

I really wanted to get in one of these posts when I am backpedaling from a terrible performance at school. After all, May celebrations will eventually replace the larger-than-I-expected frustrations of closing out a school year.

Transient living

I left school today at 3:55 - probably the second earliest time I've left all year (we get out at 3:30). It was raining pretty good, but I had my sights set on catching the field events of the City Championships for middle school track - we have one kid competing in the high jump. Only three minutes into my drive, I see a sixth grader, who is not one of my students but who I chill with during dismissal, standing at a bus stop. I pull into a parking lot, offer him a ride - it was pouring rain after all - and then start the trek to his house.

I continually had to remind myself that, despite this kid's size (5'10" and 200+), he's a sixth grader and doesn't really drive around, and, subsequently, doesn't really know how to drive back to his house. Turns out his apartment was a good 15-20 minutes away, so it makes sense he wasn't familiar with every road. He said his family lived so far away from school because they had been robbed twice, which led to him moving three times this year, and changing schools once. He's going to change schools next year, too.

Before pulling in to the apartment complex, he told me to let him off at the entrance. It was still raining and I insisted on taking him all the way home, rather than having him walk. The drive through the complex made the last part of our ride together a bit awkward - I think he felt a bit embarrassed to be taking a teacher back to his home. It wasn't the nicest apartment complex - the roads through it were littered with giant potholes and the apartment buildings themselves looked like the other neglected apartment complexes I've seen around Memphis. When he was getting out, he told me I was a 'nice person'.

Sometimes I forget my kids' home lives (this wasn't one of my kids, but he's Hispanic) - but at the same time, when kids are at school, I think they forget them too. Driving this kid home was just totally different than talking to him after school - he was dejected, didn't smile much, and wasn't joking around. The only reason he didn't move to a third school this year was because his mother didn't want him failing.

This kid is also the same kid who was being talked down to the other day during dismissal. With the kid standing right there, one of his teacher's was telling me how he needs to be tested for SPED because he got 'all circles on TCAP'. I was surprised that the math teacher was saying this stuff in front of the kid, but didn't really come to the kid's defense. Most of the time poor performance on standardized tests is due to stuff other than a kid needing to be tested for SPED. Yesterday, I talked to the kid and told him how I thought what the math teacher saying was total crap.

After dropping the kid off, I spent 15 minutes or so driving around southeast Memphis making wrong turns. At one point, I got off of an exit I thought would go North on 240, when it actually made this gigantic loop over the whole expressway and went South again. I tried to catch the field events of City Champs, but couldn't find the track. Apparently, the "Fairgrounds" is a different place than the place where they have the Mid-South Fair and a track right by the Liberty Bowl. That, or today's portion of the meet was canceled because of the weather.

During school I also me with the parent and sister of a student who I had suspended because of his ludicrous behavior during TCAP (state tests) this week. To me, this kid, who I'll call Juan, said, "Are you scared? Do you want to take it outside?" and "I'm finna shoot somebody." Juan is a total joker whose behavior all of the teachers dislike. Naturally, all of the Hispanic students (and many of the black girls) at the school adore him for his comedy routines in class and his cocksure lifestyle.

Juan's father asked to get the suspension down to two days so that he would not have to miss a third day of work. He left work to come in and meet about Juan's suspension and was lucky he could get off for a bit because of today's rain. Juan's father looked worn out. He kept putting his head down, raising and lowering his hands in exasperation, and speaking in a tone I knew (even though it was in Spanish) was that of a parent who didn't have a solution. His sister, who is only 18 but not in school, looked more relaxed but not shocked to be back in the principal's office (apparently she took care of his other suspensions). Juan said he was 'just playing' with another student - I told him I knew it was directed at me.

After the translator left the room, I sat there and listened to Juan, his sister, and his father argue about something in Spanish. The desperate-sounding back and forth between the three made me regret my words from a run with Karl two days ago. Because Juan was being his usual teacher-aggravating self, I had confessed to Karl,"I'd be ok with Juan being arrested and deported."

Listening to Juan's dejected father try to convince Juan to change his behavior helped me remember Juan's a kid living a tough life, in a foreign country, at a place he detests (school), and in an environment where teachers usually make sure he fails (even though he's a smart dude, I think his language proficiency has really hurt him in class). Rather than wanting Juan deported, I think I just want him to realize his talents (intellect + ability to make people like him [thought not teachers, generally]) could be used to do good things.

Middle School Track

Went to a track meet with the team over at Kirby High School. A very surreal feeling leaving for the meet. Here I am sitting on a bus with 45 black kids going to a track meet. On the way to the meet one of the kids gets a call from his dad who says the meet started at 3 or 3:30, rather than the 4pm start time that it says on the schedule. Got to the meet and everyone was in a big hurry to get off the bus - I was stuck carrying one of the jugs of water, which I will never let happen again. First event we arrived for was the 100 hurdles. The starter and coaches made the kids who were racing hurdles put the hurdles on the track. I helped out to get things moving along. The two boys we had in the hurdles just did hurdles for the first time yesterday (or Monday?) so I was pretty worried about how the race would go. They ended up doing pretty well - one hurdled well and got 6th (of 7), the other attacked hurdles and went more up than over, but got 3rd, so he was happy. After everybody rushed off the bus and watched the first races the track meet slowed to a crawl. Literally it was the slowest meet I've ever been to. All of the kids on my team who had spikes put them on immediately upon entering the stands - few of them would race in the next hour, and some of them didn't race all night because the meet was so slow. Four teams attended the meet, but each team could only put two runners in each event. Somehow, this translated into 20 minute stretches in between races where absolutely nothing happened. Ridiculous. We get through the 4x1s alright, but then things really slow down before the 400, 4x8, and 1600.

By 5:30, we had been through about 4 events on the schedule with about 8 more to go. At that point, I decided we'd probably be there until 7pm or so. The meet continued to drag. During the girls 800, which went off around 6:45 (?) a girl collapsed right before the backstretch of the first lap. The race continued as people flocked to the fallen girl. This disruption (apparently the girl had asthma, and they called for an ambulance while leaving the girl lying on the track) caused at least a 30 minute stoppage in the meet. At 7:15, when they finally dragged the poor girl off the track, word spread that the rest of the meet would be canceled. Mercifully, I was going to get to go home. By that point, it was cold, the light were on at the stadium, and I started telling parents who were hanging around with their kids to have the kids ask the head coach if they could go home. The pace of the meet was brutal and parents were complaining about it, though not as I much as I was complaining to myself about it. We (I) cleaned up our area of the bleachers and started walking out when kids come running back in the stadium saying the meet is back on.

It's cold (~50), late, and everyone had long since gotten tight muscles. They put boys on the track for the 800, and girls and boys for the 200, and 4x4. To me this was just torture. We had already lost our best sprinter for the day when he pulled a hip flexor or something in the 4x1 for not warming up and stretching properly (no one told these kids how to warmup/stretch properly). I was sure one of the kids in the 200 or 4 x 4 would mess something up, so I made the 400 runners run to the far field goal post a couple of times before leading them in a few stretches. Thankfully there weren't many participants in these events and we finished the meet, heard scores, and got back to school around 8:15 or so. After a 5 hour plus meet (which we were there for 4 hours of), I was rewarded with a 25 minute drive home.

A few reflections:

1. The kids (and fans) are super excited about all the events despite having no idea what is going on. The 4 x 1 was way more exciting than any duel meet I ever ran at - and these were clueless middle schoolers and parents.

2. Despite being the only white person I saw for the first two hours of the meet, I did not feel out of place at all. I know, for certain, that a year ago I could not have imagined myself in such a situation but now it's normal to me.

3. The kids on the team are truly uninformed about track - and I can't blame them. The thing that upsets me is that the head coach doesn't really take the time to do explain some key things - warming up, stretching, staying loose, when to put on spikes, how far each race is. He also doesn't take down times - so I was doing this in a little flip notebook I found in the hallway. I felt like Coleman or Bob Hasson at a track meet.

4. A middle school meet should never, ever, ever, in a billion years, take more than 1.5 or 2 hours. Just get it the fuck over with - who gives a shit if little Bobby or Joanie misses their race.

5. The coaches in MCS really are incompetent when it comes to running a track meet - cut out some of the events and just load up the other events. Meets should not be about scores, but about participation - get everyone a chance to run.

Mississippi River and the UT/Memphis Game

Had considered getting up at 6am, heading downtown with Karl, and waiting in line for ESPN Gameday tickets so that I'd be guaranteed a ticket for the UT / Memphis game. Instead, decided to go to class at 9am, work on a presentation for my other Memphis class, get my haircut, and go for a run. I wanted to get out of Midtown for my run, so I got in my car and drove in the direction of Mud Island. On the way I changed plans, headed towards the Riverfront Walk parking area and stuffed my keys into my running shorts.

Ran south towards south bluffs, checked out the view of the river and downtown, then turned back north. Gorgeous evening made amazing by the sunset over the river. Very peaceful along the river and nice weather (a bit chilly, but not bad). Ran north to Madison Avenue, made a right up the hill towards downtown, then turned south onto Main Street. Main Street wasn't that busy and ran in between the trolley tracks all the way down to the Civil Rights Museum, where I stopped briefly outside the room where Martin Luther King was assassinated. Then I started making my way towards the Fedex Forum, where I knew it'd be packed with people getting pumped for the Memphis (1) / Tennessee (2) game. I got heckled a little bit a couple of streets away from the Forum but still hadn't run in to the crowds of people I was expecting. When I reached the Forum it was just jammed with orange and blue. I made a circuitous route towards Beale Street after I got stonewalled by a giant mass of people. My route took me past a line of students waiting to get in the game and I was booed by a good number of them. I was having a great time and feeling fantastic by this point of the run. Being around the energy of the Forum and the people getting ready for the game made the run smooth and fun. I took in all of Beale street starting on its east end heading west. Weird looks from people drinking were the norm (I was in running shorts in 45 degree weather) but I received no heckles on Beale. In a few minutes I was back running along the silent, steady flowing river and the soft yellow grass - a stark contrast to the blue shirt wearing, people-packed Fedex Forum area. Finished up my run after the sun went down. I am extremely happy about the run - I got the best of Memphis in 40 minutes. Felt physically great, too.

Band of Horses (1/30)

Last Wednesday I went to see Band of Horses over at the Hi-Tone Cafe. The bar is only a 5 minute drive from my house so I wasn't too worried about rushing to get over there. Doors opened at 9, but I had homework for my U of Memphis class and I needed to plan a bit for the next day at school. I finally made my way over there at 10:30, figuring they'd be well into the 2nd opening act. Unfortunately I caught one song of the first band and had to sit (stand, actually) through all of the 2nd band.

I didn't catch the name of the band, but they were so mediocre/terrible I didn't want to know. They had 2 stereotypical indie guys (one with a beard and a stupid hat, the other with a poor mop of a haircut and overly thought out lyrics) , one drummer who was literally invisible, and a backup guitar player who had this vacant look on his face and hardly played anything all night. The beard/hat guy violently played the bass, and to my surprise, carried a lot of the melodies in the songs. The haircut/lyrics guy had an awful voice and played guitar. The drummer was sitting way in the back and must've been playing something - I couldn't tell though. The vacant look/not playing guy had an acoustic guitar he strummed a bit but, again, not much sound coming from him. Anyway, these guys were so boring - no one was excited for them, they weren't excited for themselves, and their music was so constructed - they seemed to be trying so hard just to play boring stuff. My feet hurt a lot during their set because I had been standing all day - I took my shoes off towards the end of their stuff.

Band of Horses was up next and started playing around 11:45. My usual bed time is around 12, so I was getting a little worried and my feet were still killing me. They started out with a couple songs I knew - St. Augustine and Great Salt Lake were played in the first 4 songs or so - and I got into the show pretty quickly. The lead singer had this thick beard, slightly crooked teeth, and an amazing voice. Right away I was surprised how powerful his voice was. The difference between this guy's band and the other band was just enormous. 2 guitar players, 1 bass player, 1 drummer, and 1 keyboard guy rounded out the rest of the band with 2 of them having beards and 2 of them having a mustaches (3 beards total, 2 mustaches, 1 fat guy). They really pulled off the flannel-beard look pretty well and I was jealous of the facial hair.

Coming into the show I feared they'd play a bunch of stuff from their new album, which I hadn't listened to yet, and that they'd leave out the songs I knew. They mixed it up pretty well and I knew about half of the songs. I actually really enjoyed the half of the show that I didn't know, too. Every other concert that I've gone to and not known the music has been pretty crappy, so this was a nice surprise. One of the unknown songs that stuck out was when the lead singer picked up his banjo (he and the other guitar players had about 5 axes each) and the keyboardist sang lead. Didn't hear the name, but it was a very rocking song and the guys on stage were jamming out for a while. Band of Horses was just way more fluid and relaxed than the opening band and the guys looked like they were having fun playing which got me into the show more. The bass player (whose facial expressions and body movements were hilarious) and the backup guitarist were a constant focus of my attention. During the 'rocking out parts' (I've got to think of a better description) they were hanging in each other's faces, looking at the other guy's guitar and simply feeling the music.

It started getting late (around 1) and they announced they were going to play their 'fake last song', not leave stage (since there was no backstage), and then start playing the encore. I laughed pretty hard at that crack - the whole encore process has always struck me as pretty weird, so it was funny to hear the singer thought it was a little weird as well. The opening notes of 'Funeral' justified me sacrificing a couple hours of sleep. I was waiting all night for the song and even got a little worried they weren't going to play it. Unfortunately, I built the song up so much, and enjoyed their whole set to the point that 'Funeral' didn't really stand out like I had hoped. It appeared as if the band didn't give as much energy as they had in some of their other songs, or maybe that I was distracted thinking about how lucky I was to be hearing my (and DJ Trouble's) favorite song. My goal accomplished (hearing 'Funeral'), I considered leaving right away to catch a few extra minutes of sleep, but I was interested in hearing some of the encore. The next song they played was one I didn't know (might have been a cover) and right after that I regretted my decision not to leave right after 'Funeral'. In all, a great show - the kind of show I wish Yo La Tengo would've played.

yo la tengo

Last night I went downtown with Rob France (2nd year) to see yo la tengo perform at the Gibson Lounge. Going into the concert I was unsure of exactly (I had an idea) what 'freewheeling' meant in the tour name: the freewheeling yo la tengo. The venue was also something neither of us had any particular knowledge of, other than it was attached to the guitar factory and right next to Beale St. We walked in, waited in line, then entered the lounge. Black table cloths, candles on tables, and old people drinking wine quickly showed me that I really was in a 'lounge' and probably wasn't in for a night of noisy rock from the band.

Some southern dude named Kurt Wagner played a half hour long acoustic set as a precursor to yo la tengo. No one really seemed interested in him and he pretty much knew that, too. I disliked his singing voice - half the time his words trailed off as if they simply ran out of sound - and his semi-classical guitar stylings weren't the 'rock' that I am interested in. At one point, as I was getting 2 PBR drafts (classy) from the bar, he half read a note from someone in the audience that basically told him he should stop playing because he was wasting people's time. After that I kind of felt bad for the guy. He was singing about his feelings/life in front of people who just didn't give a shit.

Yo la tengo came on around 10pm. The lead guy (Ira) had an acoustic guitar, the drummer (chick named Georgia) was playing with 'brush' style drumsticks (or whatever they are called to muffle the sound), and the bass dude (James) had a regular electric bass. They went pretty quickly into their stuff and played one or two acoustic songs before starting the Q and A part of the show. In between songs, or every couple of songs, they answered questions from people in the crowd and then played whatever song was part of the question.

The highlight of the night for me occurred after someone asked about the meaning of the song 'Stockholm Syndrome'. After the bass player answered (something about how it was a note to himself 10 years down the line) , the band launched into it with way more energy than anything they had played up to that point. Being one of my favorite songs from 'I can hear the heart...' I was relieved that I finally knew something. As they approached the very noise /electric guitar laden freakout, I was stumped as to how they'd perform it. To the entire room's delight and surprise, an abrasive wall of distortion came out of Ira's guitar and he just went to town for a couple of minutes before the group finished the song. They did this distortion trick once more in the night when they played 'Pass the Hatchet' and Ira jammed for about 7 minutes while James and Georgia held down the repeating rhythm patterns. These two teasers kept me from having any real interest in what they played acoustically, especially if the particular song was written by some other band. After 'Pass the Hatchet' I raised my hand to ask about the second of static on 'We're an American Band' for two reasons. First off, I was hoping they'd do what they did with 'Stockholm Syndrome' and just tear the song apart, giving me more of the rock I wanted. Second, I realized that would be the one time ever that I'd find out an answer to that question (and how cool would it be to get the answer from the people that wrote the song?). They didn't call on me, unfortunately.

After the show, Rob and I decided that we were both pretty disappointed. Neither of us got enough of what we wanted - straight up rock - from the band. Provided Ira is playing with an electric guitar in his hands, I'd love to see them again if I get the chance, though.