the twit
6.17.2006
the blues
when we came back at 9:30ish, model t was playing what seemed to be a warm-up endless blues progression. he'd start and stop, start and stop, mess with the amp, play for 5 min or so, and either he or his drummer would get up and walk around or have a cigarette. model t walked with a cane and moved rather slowly. eventually - while the indians hat drummer was outside talking to some people - some guy walked up to the drum set and played (rather horribly) a bit of the endless warm up. then, his buddy pushed him off the kit, and played (less horribly) for a bit.
the drummer came back inside, and he and model t went through what was thankfully a different song than the endless warm-up. after this, model t asked if there were any other guitar players in the bar, and handed his guitar to some useless country singing fool while ostensibly going to the bathroom. the country singing fool played one song with the indians hat drummer, and then stopped. the drummer sat there for a while, chatting with a few people. i saw model t at the bar. eventually, the drummer went to the bar, too. an hour or so passed, and it was clear they weren't going to play anymore; they were watching the boxing match on tv.
6.12.2006
required mcpost: failure story
I am horrible at contacting parents. This is not to say that I’m horrible when I get in contact with parents; there are plenty of my student’s parents with whom I talk frequently (mostly because they’re around school a lot and/or drop by to say “hi” when they pick up their son/daughter), and with whom I seem to have a very cordial and productive relationship – at least as it pertains to the social/intellectual/educational development of their son/daughter. However, it’s often the case that those parents with whom I have excellent contact are those parents of my excellent students.
Take, for instance, CT and his mom (and his sister, and his aunt, for that matter). I see CT all the time; he’s one of the presidents of the Civil Rights and Civil Liberties Club, and he participated in Jake and my Princeton Review course. CT is a talker. He thinks by talking and he learns by talking; a natural and incessant debater, whom I have taken to calling the “honorable CT,” and won’t be surprised if I see him in judge’s robes someday. As I’m not the one to shy from argument, CT and I (and Jake as well) often loose track of time carrying on dialogue that had just been inspired by whomever had just been by to speak to our club, or whatever issue we’re fixating on for the moment. So, CT’s mom, or sister, or aunt stop by to pick him up (they know exactly where Jake’s room is, and they know to look in my room if CT isn’t in Jake’s room with me), whereupon I sing CT’s praises about his dedication, maturity, intelligence, etc.; I seem to have been so convincing that when CT’s sister met my girlfriend Margaret, she (as Margaret writes) “wouldn't shake [her] hand, she insisted on hugging [her] because ‘Mr. Molina is like part of our family.’ [She said] every night at dinner CT talks about you.” While this seems more like a success story than a failure story, moments like this – while certainly supportive – often highlight for me how many parents and families I have no contact with.
I’m afraid to make phone calls home. I don’t know why, particularly. It has something to do with an uncomfortable feeling that I’m going to disturb someone, or that they’re going to dispute whatever negative or positive thing I have to say about my student/their child, or that perhaps they’re going to realize that there’s just a beard-faced kid on line who’s trying to pin together a thin charade of authority (“Mr. Molina” always feels the least appropriate on the telephone). It’s a weird fear of confrontation that I don’t seem to have when dealing with people face to face, or even dealing with people through the interchange of text, but which seems to feel so strong when it comes to telephones. I have no problem writing letters home to parents (though these are usually of the mass information sort) – and perhaps I should focus on communicating more through this channel next year – but there is something both necessary and frightening about calling someone’s house that I can’t seem to get over (though clearly I need to.) Last year I was always jealous of Jake when he told me stories of having certain parents on speed dial, on marathon calls to inform parent of missing work, and of successful preemptive calls home for those kids who he didn’t want to be a pain in the ass. Weeks would go by that I would write “begin parent contacts” or “call home for period 2A” or “call JF’s mom, call T’s mom, call JG’s dad,” and nothing would happen. This would be the bottom of my to-Do list, and I would almost always opt to get ahead of lesson planning and/or grading to what seemed like disturbing people’s households.
All of this is particularly frustrating/embarrassing in light of the fact that so many parents insisted that I call them if their student was ever slacking or acting up in my class. There are so many parents that deserved a quick check up or follow up throughout the year, and I neglected 95% percent of them. One particular case was JR – who will serve as a tragic counterexample to CT. JR suffered the entire year in my class, and it became clear even during parent-teacher conferences in the first quarter that this was an atypical performance for her. JR’s mother – like many others – gave me her contact information and insisted that I call her periodically to give updates, and anytime if she needed to be worried at all about JR’s grades. Well, JR coasted at a F to D grade level throughout the year; she rarely participated, she bombed tests every once in a while, she didn’t turn in homework, and she didn’t come to tutoring. Clearly, there were a million red flags for me to get the parents involved and try and figure out (a) if anything is going on outside school that I should know of, and (b) what we need to do to help JR perform at the level she’d previously been performing at. But, nothing happened. “Call JR’s mom” would often appear on my to-do list, but I’d never get to it. Eventually I was too embarrassed that I had never contacted her mother that I was even more embarrassed begin to contact her because she’d be angry at me for taking so long to get around to it.
6.07.2006
letters to R and L
the currenct MTC intern Molly and I had a very good dinner tonight (she is AMAZING), and at some point in our conversation she mentioned a frustration with people at Duke (where she is an undergrad) who don't know how to take advantage of the resources available to them (re: students who don't know how to change a tire, who don't know how to balance a checkboook, etc). i agreed with her for the most point, but worried a little more about the attitude lying beneath these somewhat distasteful content blunders; it's more of a problem that people aren't willing to figure out how to change a tire or balance a checkbook, rather than the ostensible circumstances of their inexperience; it's that a fear of vulnerability will lock people into inexperience, rather than the conditions of these particular inexperiences. strangely, i find echoes of this contitioned reluctance in my most competent students. perhaps we are all a little afraid:
From: R
To: Mr. Molina
From: Mr. Molina
To: R and L
From: Mr. Molina
To: R
From: R
To: Mr. Molina
p.s. I'm sorry it's so long.
From: Mr. Molina
To: R
learn how to do productive things without being caught showing disinterest. if they're not being productive, there's no reason you shouldn't be.
holly springs is in mississippi. it's in the northeastern part of the delta.
i've watched law and order svu a little bit. but i'll check out criminal intent when i get the chance. i'm rarely around a tv, however.
do not apologize for sending long e-mails R. i e-mailed you because i wanted you to write back, and i'm happy that you did. like i said in the e-mail to L and you: i know what i'm getting into when i tell you to write back.
i have the same problem with people going on runs, and it always bother me. it usually goes like this: people mention that they are going for a run sometime in the near future, or that they want to start running soon. so, i mention that i would like to run with them if they would like company. then - almost invariably - whomever i'm talking to says that they'd be too slow for me (remembering that i'm a track and cross country runner). this is where i get frustrated. it's exactly because i'm an experienced runner that i know exactly how slow and how fast people are, so i know exactly what i'm getting into when i suggest that i join them for a run (that is, if they want to). i know that they're probably not going to run as fast or as long as i can, and they may not even want to. in fact, if i was intending on a very hard, long, serious run, i probably wouldn't have offered to run with whomever i'm in a conversation with. but, that's not what i'm offering; i'm offering to join them on their run. it's nice to have company. that's all i'm offering, and there's no illusion in my mind that i'm intending they run at whatever capacity they think i run at. i'm asking to run with them, and i know exactly what that means.
so, R- when i send you an e-mail and i ask you questions - i know exactly what that means. don't apologize for the length of your response. it's something i wanted to happen.
yours,
mr. molina