Since my last post...
1. I didn't actually have any classes to teach on Friday. No one told me this of course, but my break actually started on Thursday afternoon.
2. I started feeling sick.
3. I picked my dad up from the airport, and we journeyed back to my neighborhood to get groceries, and then out for dinner at a traditional place in Lipscani. We had ţuica- ohhhh, man.
4. I got more sick.
5. We left really early in the morning to catch the train to Braşov.
6. I got more sick.
7. I spent about 20 hours laying in a bed, sending my dad out on the town.
8. I feel less sick and now I am writing this.
Hoping that these next 24 hours are better than the last, because we'll be in Cluj-Napoca in just 21 hours :)
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tatăl Meu
My father leaves tomorrow to fly to EUROPE.
EUROPE is where I live!!!
We've got big plans, really. Nights in hostels and days in beautiful towns and train trips and time. We'll be going to Braşov and Cluj-Napoca and Budapest and Timişoara.
But most of all, I think... my dad is going to show me this country again. And I'm going to look with new eyes upon this beautiful place where I am so lucky to live.
EUROPE is where I live!!!
We've got big plans, really. Nights in hostels and days in beautiful towns and train trips and time. We'll be going to Braşov and Cluj-Napoca and Budapest and Timişoara.
But most of all, I think... my dad is going to show me this country again. And I'm going to look with new eyes upon this beautiful place where I am so lucky to live.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
A Day
Today was a day. Not just any day, but a Tuesday. Not just any Tuesday, but January 25. Not just any January 25, but January 25, 2011.
This day has no significance at all. Except that I got to be alive in it.
And there is only one of them. I realized recently that I have been wasting too many days. Too many days that are unique and special for the simple fact that there is only one of them.
I had classes with the little guys this morning, and got a bit stressed with finishing the grades that are not due by the end of the week, but by tomorrow. After venturing back to my apartment I steeled myself against the cold and the anticipated exhaustion, and I left to pick up a package. Three hours later I was back, sans package, because it appears that I picked it up in December.
So this Tuesday, January 25, 2011 was a relatively stressful day. Oh, well. For one thing... "eh, it's Romania." For another- I only get one of these. I'm in Romania for less than 350 days, and I'm tired of throwing entire days away because they didn't go as planned.
This day has no significance at all. Except that I got to be alive in it.
And there is only one of them. I realized recently that I have been wasting too many days. Too many days that are unique and special for the simple fact that there is only one of them.
I had classes with the little guys this morning, and got a bit stressed with finishing the grades that are not due by the end of the week, but by tomorrow. After venturing back to my apartment I steeled myself against the cold and the anticipated exhaustion, and I left to pick up a package. Three hours later I was back, sans package, because it appears that I picked it up in December.
So this Tuesday, January 25, 2011 was a relatively stressful day. Oh, well. For one thing... "eh, it's Romania." For another- I only get one of these. I'm in Romania for less than 350 days, and I'm tired of throwing entire days away because they didn't go as planned.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Where To Begin?
I had a very interesting conversation today with some of my students in one of the upper grades. We were discussing social problems in Romania, having started by explaining that you can start driving at age 16 in America, but you cannot drink until you are 21. This led to discussions about alcohol and it's use amongst minors, drugs and which were the most common, and a few other problems.
I asked what they thought Romania's biggest problem was. "Gypsies."
I acted a bit surprised, though I shouldn't have been. The anti-Roma sentiment here in Romania and in other countries in Europe is quite well known and very acceptable. We discussed the specific complaints against the Roma community, whether anyone had hands on experience, and finally what could be done. The conversation continued until I asked "So what is the solution to the Gypsy problem?" Without any hesitation...
"Kill them all."
I was disturbed, certainly. I sputtered something about the Holocaust, and how I hoped the world wouldn't sit by and watch genocide happen again.
Except we have, time and again. The country I live in borders Serbia. That happened in MY lifetime.
Where do I even start? I'm glad we had the conversation, but it is hard to know where to go. I want my students to keep talking about this- but I also struggle with sitting and listening to such open hatred. What now?
I asked what they thought Romania's biggest problem was. "Gypsies."
I acted a bit surprised, though I shouldn't have been. The anti-Roma sentiment here in Romania and in other countries in Europe is quite well known and very acceptable. We discussed the specific complaints against the Roma community, whether anyone had hands on experience, and finally what could be done. The conversation continued until I asked "So what is the solution to the Gypsy problem?" Without any hesitation...
"Kill them all."
I was disturbed, certainly. I sputtered something about the Holocaust, and how I hoped the world wouldn't sit by and watch genocide happen again.
Except we have, time and again. The country I live in borders Serbia. That happened in MY lifetime.
Where do I even start? I'm glad we had the conversation, but it is hard to know where to go. I want my students to keep talking about this- but I also struggle with sitting and listening to such open hatred. What now?
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Education Reform
This is some of the best "coverage" of education reform I've ever heard. Also, it is a pretty awesome video. You might not be interested- and that is okay. But if you have about 12 minutes of time, you will be further inside my brain than you might realize. Enjoy.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
How to Be a Good Parent
I'm twenty-two years old, I realize. I've never been a parent and I don't plan on becoming a parent until some significant life events happen- namely a decent job and... oh- a husband.
However, I have worked with children for a very long time- really since I was on the older edge of that vague age span myself. I then went to school and learned to be a teacher. I've worked summer jobs with parent involvement (both good and bad) galore. The amount of parents I have encountered in my life is really disproportionate to my years of work experience... and unfortunately the number of sub-par parents I've worked with is disproportionate to the number of children I've cared for or taught.
So from the humble perspective of a very young teacher, here is a list of tips on how to be a good parent to a school-aged child.
1. Be realistic. There is a vast world of understanding that accompanies any training in child development, and the more I learn the stronger I support proposals that people need a license to procreate. I have seen so many adults treat children as if they have no idea how they are supposed to behave because... they really don't know! This can go either way, really- and neither option does your child any good. You have parents who are still tying the shoelaces of their nine year old and packing lunch for their high schooler, or you have parents screaming at their two year old to clean up the toys or punishing their seven year old for taking too long to finish their homework. Regardless... if you cannot accurately identify where your child should developmentally "be" emotionally, physically, socially, and academically- please defer to people who know. Believe the teacher when they tell you that your son shouldn't be speaking that way at his age, or that it really is okay that your daughter isn't reading chapter books yet.
2. Believe in your child. This should be a no-brainer, right? Unfortunately, there are way too many children walking around with self-images crumbling around them because mom or dad can't get it together enough to dream big. Allow your child to imagine and create and wonder, and let them dream. Your short chubby little son probably isn't going to make it in the NBA, but why on earth would you tell an eight year old to stop playing basketball? Your daughter with the average grades and a mess of social skills is most likely not going to be president someday, but you need to shut up about finding a suitable career when you are talking to an eleven year old. The absolute best thing you can do for your kid is have their back so they are free to dream.
3. Be there. It doesn't matter what it is, you need to show up. Conferences, school plays, sporting events, birthday parties, musical performances, classroom open houses, family dinner- these things matter to the little guys. They don't know it yet, but again back to that child development thing. At a certain age, children don't understand the abstract concept of love. They do understand when you make time for the things that are important to them. It is going to be boring at that swim meet, and sitting through the excrutiating student-run play might drive you crazy, but you had better show up. And do it with a smile, because your child can tell when you aren't enjoying yourself. You created that little person- enjoy what they do.
4. Be authentic. Kids are born with an inate sense about people- they read right through words and can truly assess what it at the core. Don't play fake around your kids. Be real and open and honest and genuine about your emotions. This in turn teaches them to be real and open and honest and genuine about their emotions... and the world could use more of those people. Be tactful about it, of course.
5. You are being watched. Ever wonder how the little guys learn? By watching, and copying. A child's brain is set up to learn by modeling- and every thing you do, they will learn from. Every single moment from the time you bring baby home is an opportunity to teach- about life, or character, or disappointment, or success, or eating habits or acadmic discipline or how to treat other people. EVERY moment- it's a big responsibility, I know.
I'm not entirely sure where I started with this post, and it really isn't directed at anyone specifically, or even a circumstance or situation. I could keep going for ages, but maybe I'll just revisit the topic at another time.
The long and short of it- most people love their children and want the best for them. This is good. The problem is that most people don't know how to parent. This is bad.
However, I have worked with children for a very long time- really since I was on the older edge of that vague age span myself. I then went to school and learned to be a teacher. I've worked summer jobs with parent involvement (both good and bad) galore. The amount of parents I have encountered in my life is really disproportionate to my years of work experience... and unfortunately the number of sub-par parents I've worked with is disproportionate to the number of children I've cared for or taught.
So from the humble perspective of a very young teacher, here is a list of tips on how to be a good parent to a school-aged child.
1. Be realistic. There is a vast world of understanding that accompanies any training in child development, and the more I learn the stronger I support proposals that people need a license to procreate. I have seen so many adults treat children as if they have no idea how they are supposed to behave because... they really don't know! This can go either way, really- and neither option does your child any good. You have parents who are still tying the shoelaces of their nine year old and packing lunch for their high schooler, or you have parents screaming at their two year old to clean up the toys or punishing their seven year old for taking too long to finish their homework. Regardless... if you cannot accurately identify where your child should developmentally "be" emotionally, physically, socially, and academically- please defer to people who know. Believe the teacher when they tell you that your son shouldn't be speaking that way at his age, or that it really is okay that your daughter isn't reading chapter books yet.
2. Believe in your child. This should be a no-brainer, right? Unfortunately, there are way too many children walking around with self-images crumbling around them because mom or dad can't get it together enough to dream big. Allow your child to imagine and create and wonder, and let them dream. Your short chubby little son probably isn't going to make it in the NBA, but why on earth would you tell an eight year old to stop playing basketball? Your daughter with the average grades and a mess of social skills is most likely not going to be president someday, but you need to shut up about finding a suitable career when you are talking to an eleven year old. The absolute best thing you can do for your kid is have their back so they are free to dream.
3. Be there. It doesn't matter what it is, you need to show up. Conferences, school plays, sporting events, birthday parties, musical performances, classroom open houses, family dinner- these things matter to the little guys. They don't know it yet, but again back to that child development thing. At a certain age, children don't understand the abstract concept of love. They do understand when you make time for the things that are important to them. It is going to be boring at that swim meet, and sitting through the excrutiating student-run play might drive you crazy, but you had better show up. And do it with a smile, because your child can tell when you aren't enjoying yourself. You created that little person- enjoy what they do.
4. Be authentic. Kids are born with an inate sense about people- they read right through words and can truly assess what it at the core. Don't play fake around your kids. Be real and open and honest and genuine about your emotions. This in turn teaches them to be real and open and honest and genuine about their emotions... and the world could use more of those people. Be tactful about it, of course.
5. You are being watched. Ever wonder how the little guys learn? By watching, and copying. A child's brain is set up to learn by modeling- and every thing you do, they will learn from. Every single moment from the time you bring baby home is an opportunity to teach- about life, or character, or disappointment, or success, or eating habits or acadmic discipline or how to treat other people. EVERY moment- it's a big responsibility, I know.
I'm not entirely sure where I started with this post, and it really isn't directed at anyone specifically, or even a circumstance or situation. I could keep going for ages, but maybe I'll just revisit the topic at another time.
The long and short of it- most people love their children and want the best for them. This is good. The problem is that most people don't know how to parent. This is bad.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Grocery Shopping
One of the things I have concentrated on this year is changing the concept in my head, redefining what I've thought "normal," replacing it instead with "different." I always thought it normal for a teacher to have a classroom, for example. I thought it normal for ovens to get hot when you push a button or turn a knob, and certainly thought it normal for post offices to have regular business hours. Alas, these things in Romania... they are different.
One such different experience is a trip to the grocery store.
I typically go to the grocery store about twice a week, because I have to carry all of my things home, and I feel better spending 40 lei twice rather than 80 lei once. Regardless of my mental games of self-reassurance and trickery, this set-up requires that two times a week I empty out my canvas bag and walk to the store, stepping around the stray dogs and trying not to fall on the perpetually icy sidewalks.
Walking into the grocery store, you turn to the left and grab a basket and then go through the turnstile, which is one-way only. The produce section is first, an odd assortment of lots of oranges, some apples, some lettuce and other vegetables, and nearly always fresh pineapple. I had to go to three different grocery stores to find celery one time, but my local market always has fresh pineapple.
Moving on, you are faced with a dilemma. Head straight towards the meat, dairy, bakery, frozen food portion of the store, or turn right to the general grocery. I've found it is almost always better to go straight, all the way to the back, and sneak around to grab a loaf of bread because there is invariably a 271 year old woman examining the loaves with her basket in the middle of the three foot wide aisle. They all taste the same, sweetie.
Taking about 5 extra minutes to maneuver around all the baskets and random carts filled with food stuffs in the dairy/lunchmeat section, I usually curve back around toward the front of the store and the checkout lanes. You should note that I am usually on a fake cell phone call during this entire process, attempting to avoid the 7 awkward conversations I will get into when people start talking in Romanian to me and I have to say, again, that I am sorry but I only speak a little Romanian. Yes, I speak English. No, I'm not from Great Britain. No, not France either (???). Yes, I am American. No, I don't know Justin Beiber. Okay, goodbye now. Da da da.
Finally, I've reached the checkout lanes. First of all, Romania doesn't believe in conveyor belts. You just load up all your stuff precariously on a tiny little counter-like thing. The pressure to get it just right is enormous, plus you have to think about bagging when you place things on the counter. If you do it incorrectly, you'll be holding up the next fourteen people in line, in the middle of saying over and over that you don't speak Romanian, while you try to get the canned goods at the bottom of the canvas tote bag. You have to pay for bags in Romania, and you must know ahead of time how many you will need. Why? Because you cannot ask for another afterward- it seems to be an inconvenience similar to requesting that your friend with a pickup truck help you move for the 14th time. Thus, the canvas tote.
Finally, we come to the payment part of the ordeal. One learns quickly that you had better have your wallet out and ready or the fourteen people behind you will start to mutter. Secondly, you will be growled at if you hand them a bill and no coins. Everything is rounded or estimated here. If you owe 41.32, you pay 41.50 and get a 10 Banat coin back. There are no "pennies" here, no 1-cent equivalent. And if you have no coins, you must steel your heart for the shame that is to come, the wrath of hellfire and the damnation of the god that sits atop the thing on high. Also, you don't hand the cashier the money, but instead lay it on the counter. This seemed rude to me, but nevertheless I am scrambling to pick up my coins that have slid down the metal bagging table during every visit. I mean, we probably could have avoided holding up those fourteen people if I wasn't busy picking up 5 and 10 Banat coins from in between my soup packets and eggs that can't go on the bottom, but no bother, really.
I haul my things out of the store and slide down the ramp with no traction in site, trudging back to my apartment with groceries balanced carefully. Only three more days until I do it all again. Super, really.
It's not abnormal, it's different. But sometimes, I still miss Meijer.
One such different experience is a trip to the grocery store.
I typically go to the grocery store about twice a week, because I have to carry all of my things home, and I feel better spending 40 lei twice rather than 80 lei once. Regardless of my mental games of self-reassurance and trickery, this set-up requires that two times a week I empty out my canvas bag and walk to the store, stepping around the stray dogs and trying not to fall on the perpetually icy sidewalks.
Walking into the grocery store, you turn to the left and grab a basket and then go through the turnstile, which is one-way only. The produce section is first, an odd assortment of lots of oranges, some apples, some lettuce and other vegetables, and nearly always fresh pineapple. I had to go to three different grocery stores to find celery one time, but my local market always has fresh pineapple.
Moving on, you are faced with a dilemma. Head straight towards the meat, dairy, bakery, frozen food portion of the store, or turn right to the general grocery. I've found it is almost always better to go straight, all the way to the back, and sneak around to grab a loaf of bread because there is invariably a 271 year old woman examining the loaves with her basket in the middle of the three foot wide aisle. They all taste the same, sweetie.
Taking about 5 extra minutes to maneuver around all the baskets and random carts filled with food stuffs in the dairy/lunchmeat section, I usually curve back around toward the front of the store and the checkout lanes. You should note that I am usually on a fake cell phone call during this entire process, attempting to avoid the 7 awkward conversations I will get into when people start talking in Romanian to me and I have to say, again, that I am sorry but I only speak a little Romanian. Yes, I speak English. No, I'm not from Great Britain. No, not France either (???). Yes, I am American. No, I don't know Justin Beiber. Okay, goodbye now. Da da da.
Finally, I've reached the checkout lanes. First of all, Romania doesn't believe in conveyor belts. You just load up all your stuff precariously on a tiny little counter-like thing. The pressure to get it just right is enormous, plus you have to think about bagging when you place things on the counter. If you do it incorrectly, you'll be holding up the next fourteen people in line, in the middle of saying over and over that you don't speak Romanian, while you try to get the canned goods at the bottom of the canvas tote bag. You have to pay for bags in Romania, and you must know ahead of time how many you will need. Why? Because you cannot ask for another afterward- it seems to be an inconvenience similar to requesting that your friend with a pickup truck help you move for the 14th time. Thus, the canvas tote.
Finally, we come to the payment part of the ordeal. One learns quickly that you had better have your wallet out and ready or the fourteen people behind you will start to mutter. Secondly, you will be growled at if you hand them a bill and no coins. Everything is rounded or estimated here. If you owe 41.32, you pay 41.50 and get a 10 Banat coin back. There are no "pennies" here, no 1-cent equivalent. And if you have no coins, you must steel your heart for the shame that is to come, the wrath of hellfire and the damnation of the god that sits atop the thing on high. Also, you don't hand the cashier the money, but instead lay it on the counter. This seemed rude to me, but nevertheless I am scrambling to pick up my coins that have slid down the metal bagging table during every visit. I mean, we probably could have avoided holding up those fourteen people if I wasn't busy picking up 5 and 10 Banat coins from in between my soup packets and eggs that can't go on the bottom, but no bother, really.
I haul my things out of the store and slide down the ramp with no traction in site, trudging back to my apartment with groceries balanced carefully. Only three more days until I do it all again. Super, really.
It's not abnormal, it's different. But sometimes, I still miss Meijer.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Not Your Year
I'm quite sure that this will change, simply because I need it to. I'm not sure how yet.
I had a conversation with a very wise person, one that I love very much:
"Pulling oneself out of a funk is not unlike becoming president. It is highly unlikely and actually does require the support of a ton of people."
It'll stop sometime, right?
I had a conversation with a very wise person, one that I love very much:
"Pulling oneself out of a funk is not unlike becoming president. It is highly unlikely and actually does require the support of a ton of people."
It'll stop sometime, right?
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Fail
I feel like I've officially failed this blog. Apologies- this was not supposed to happen.
Updates on life since December 9:
Ummmm... I finished school. I flew home. I was home. I flew back.
I'm stuck in a bit of a spiraling rut. Being home was nice, coming back was hard. It's going to be a long Romanian winter and I need to snap out of this- whatever it is.
Sometimes we have bad days. I've just had a lot of them in a row, it seems.
And this was supposed to be a good blog, an anniversary blog, a celebratory blog.
Updates on life since December 9:
Ummmm... I finished school. I flew home. I was home. I flew back.
I'm stuck in a bit of a spiraling rut. Being home was nice, coming back was hard. It's going to be a long Romanian winter and I need to snap out of this- whatever it is.
Sometimes we have bad days. I've just had a lot of them in a row, it seems.
And this was supposed to be a good blog, an anniversary blog, a celebratory blog.
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