It seems that I am reminded daily that I live in a world that should not be, that was never meant to be.

We forget the tainted nature of our world sometimes because we so often wrap ourselves in the bubbles of our own lives, safe in the reality we have spun for ourselves; because we have been blessed, the world cannot be so bad, no?

Then comes that horrific moment when the warm, fuzzy cocoon rips. Eyes are opened. Reality shifts.

Charities fail because people are not generous, or often because potential donors have been scammed so many times that they no longer trust in the idea of compassion. A teenage girl with a bruise on her cheek walks barefoot down the street with a crying baby in one arm and four caguamas in the other. A sobbing toddler stands at the semaforo of Patria and Clouthier, scanning the streets for any sign of someone to take him home. A tarp strung between two trees is a home.

Poverty. Mothers so absorbed in their own tragedies that they disconnect from their children completely. The reality of slavery-- both literally and figuratively. La matagente. People so self-important that they would turn away those in need in the name of national security, in the name of politics. Children who are so desperate to belong, to be loved, they turn to the mara.

The absence of hope is like a vacuum. Who will fill it?

Ya fundí

Teaching is exhausting. Losing your temper is exhausting. Being around kids you want to throttle for hours at a time when you have to maintain your smile, utterly draining.

I'm sitting at school, listening to the cars go by on the paseo outside; the sound of it alone tires me even more. I'm still here because I'm waiting for my report cards to be issued so that I may fill them in before parent-teacher conferences tomorrow. In reality, though, I probably would not have the energy to walk to the car and drive home even if I didn't have to wait.

Tricia is visiting Friday. Such has become my mantra to get me through the last two weeks, which have been less an emotional rollercoaster and more an emotional maelstrom/electrical storm. I feel as though the other shoe has finally dropped.

I love my students, but I need a break. I have been running non-stop since August 16th, without a moment of downtime. Even the unbalanced wheels on my cars say, "Catch up, catch up, catch up" the entire way home. I buy my breakfast at the traffic light on Figueroa-- thank God for the Mexican propensity for street vendors. I buy my lunch (IF I eat lunch) at Oxxo. I sleep through dinner.

Friday cannot possibly arrive quickly enough.

Mi tortugita

Ever seen the movie Martian Child? Well, en caso que no, let me summarize: John Cusack plays a single foster father to a small boy who believes he is from another planet, sent to earth to do research. This belief alters every aspect of the boy's reality, including his ability to stand in the sunlight without incinerating-- which leads him to spend his time outdoors inside a refrigerator box.

I mention this because one of my students does something similar; instead of cutting down his cardboard box to make a desk carrel, he sits entirely in the box (which apparently has magical powers of some sort); since he claims it is sound proof, communication requires that notes be passed through the tiny window cut in the front flap. No seatwork may be completed outside of the box. When moving from desk to desk (his assigned seat changes with each class), he shuffle-steps across the room without removing the box. In reality, I haven't seen this student in two days; the only sign of his attendance is his backpack, which remains outside the magic box.

Being the understanding, safe-haven type of teacher, I can't laugh about any of it at school. Instead, I wait until I have shut my apartment door behind me before dissolving into laughter. You, however, may laugh now.

A week in the classroom of...

Since I don't much have a life anymore outside of teaching, I decided to adapt the "week in the life of" idea to a more classroom-focused one. After all, if I didn't, there'd be little to tell: "Oh, the potato man was 5 minutes late today; I heard 3 gunshots instead of just one; my limonada was too sweet."

History: This week we've been tackling feudalism; my younger class is learning about the various parts of a true castle and the purpose of each. We're doing a lot of relating back to non-academic subjects; neither the word "keep" nor the definition given in our workbook means anything to my kids, but when I mention The Two Towers movie, they suddenly understand what I'm talking about. My older group is learning more about the leaders of the time, and the causes and effects of feudalism. We're also spending some time tackling current global conflicts. Few of my students can see why the UN Peace committees are so backlogged; after all, they solved the India-Pakistan conflict over Kashmir in only a day (they're solution: dissolve the Partition-era borders or build an impenetrable wall around Kashmir itself and declare it independent). We're still working on the idea of "repercussions."

Math: We have problems with talking and getting off-topic in math; my students know all the right questions to make me forget we're in math class and make me start telling stories. Therefore, we have boxes; that is to say, we have cut large packing boxes down to make desk carrels. We now look like a group of very poor office workers, but at least our seatwork is getting done.

Science 1: We had our grand midterm today; we'll see how everyone does. This is my biggest class of the day, so we primarily work in teams with a little whole-class instruction. We watch some Magic School Bus, listen to some old-time radio shows about famous inventors, and do a lot of cutting, coloring, gluing, and papier-macheing. Oh, and we occasionally blow stuff up or set things on fire (all done with proper supervision and safety precautions).

World Cultures and Religions: Ahh, my favorite class, if only because Aamir Khan has done all the teaching this week. We're currently watching Lagaan (with subtitles edited for minor profanity), analyzing it for aspects of culture: food, dress, language, family relationships, traditional holidays, and religion. We're also learning about the UK's age of imperialism and pre-Partition India--oh, and cricket. The kids have become very involved in the story; they made me pause it yesterday so they could analyze each character's strengths and weaknesses in reference to the cricket team (well, the boys did that; the girls debated about whether Bhuvan should end up with Eliza or Gauri). Additionally, the students are planning a coup for next week once the movie has finished: apparently, I will play the part of the British (um, with what army??), and they will play the part of the villagers of Champaner and will stomp my, erm, "butt" in a game of cricket in the park.

ESL: This class would be more properly named "Lyrics and Subtitles," as our two primary activities are rearranging cut-and-scrambled lyrics and watching English movies with English subtitles (not called closed-captioning, apparently, because non-dialogue cues are not provided). We also play a lot of games with picture flashcards and read a lot of picture books aloud (so far, Noisy Nora and Corduroy are the class favorites). Body Boggle and Catchphrase (the OLD version, modified to remove inappropriate words) are also popular, but not nearly as readily usable. This class isn't officially on my schedule (I teach it to 3 students during my planning period), and I'm not actually certified in ESL, so I guess and experiment a lot. Actually, perhaps the class should be named "Miss Melby Flies by the Seat of her Pants."

Chemistry: A.K.A. "Atomic Particles through Emoticons." RealScience4kids donated a bunch of chemistry books to our school since they were about to reprint due to multiple flagrant typos and errors in the current edition. Seeing as they're advanced chemistry books, though, with a reading level of 10th grade (my students are mostly on a reading level of 7th grade, if that), we're moving verrrry slowly and using a lot of stretched metaphors. For example, subatomic particles have been assigned semi-appropriate emoticon representatives; protons are red smiley-faces, electrons are blue sad-faces, and neutrons are brown shrugging :| faces. Atoms are buses. Balancing equations is like converting a lego house into a lego boat and car: you can build whatever you want, but you have to use the same number and kind of legos as before. I'm not sure how effective the whole thing is; we'll find out when they take their midterms on Friday...