August 2024
Mom passed away in the wee hours of August 7th, at home in her hospital bed. She was a role model, a friend, and a terrible editor. Every month I would share this blog with her before publishing, but she never shared any constructive feedback. I take that back — sometimes she would comment, “Don’t be so hard on yourself!” My wife, Kim, is different. She can really let me know when my writing’s too wordy or too vague or just don’t make no sense. That’s what I want in a partner. But what I had in Mom was a straight up fan. What a gift. My wish for everyone is that, at some point in your life, you get to work with an editor as terrible as my mom.
Wednesday August 21 — Teacher Workday #1
The hallways are bright and shiny from the waxing that happens over every summer break. Before we left, all the teachers had to stack our desks and chairs against a wall. I dread the work that awaits me of unstacking and arranging the classroom furniture, that is until I open my classroom door. I see that my teammates Matt and Lisa have beaten me to it.
Thursday August 22 — Teacher Workday #2
It feels like we just did Open Campus a week ago, but it was last year. As I look at the new students and families I can picture Besaida and Roberto sitting in the same spots with their sponsors. Partly it’s because it feels this year is a continuation of the last, like summer never happened. Slowly I orient myself to the details of now. The blue cases on the new student laptops. The variations in accent between Mexican and Venezuelan Spanish. These kids don’t feel like they were just here, they feel like they’re on a new planet. Time to help.
Friday August 23 — Teacher Workday #3
If I can just photocopy one thing to throw at students on the first day of classes, I’ll consider myself a success.
Monday August 26 — Teacher Workday #4
I get a little misty in front of two coworkers and I’m not thrilled about it. I appreciate when people express condolences, and usually I say thank you and it’s fine. But at the moment in question I’d already been thinking about how I’ve wanted to call my mom every day when I leave work like I used to, but I can’t. Matt praises me for widening my circle of vulnerability. I predict that both of these coworkers will grant the student scheduling favors I’ve asked of them.
Tuesday August 27
Today it feels good to teach in one of Mom’s sweaters. I think I do much better than throwing photocopies at the kids, and Emilia agrees. After lunch I feel a tap on my shoulder and it’s her, handing me a small rose. She is brand new and was especially lost today. I know she appreciates my help and doesn’t have a lot at her disposal to express gratitude. The gesture is so pure I have trouble telling her she really shouldn’t pick the roses outside the attendance office.
Wednesday August 28
My new co teacher Alissa has the students fill out get-to-know-you bingo cards by interviewing their classmates. She awards each student a small candy as they get four squares in a row. She’s smart to give each student a win early on, because it’s unclear how much winning some of them are accustomed to. One chatty new customer holds up his prize to a classmate. “Look! My first candy of the year!” he says in Spanish. “And your last!” she replies.
Thursday August 29
Five former students are on the varsity soccer team! Kim and I attend a game and see Henry score three goals. That’s typical for him. Donaldo, on the other hand, doesn’t play very much. He goes in for a few minutes at striker then comes back out and gets some coaching. I hope he’s learned enough English to understand what she’s telling him!
Friday August 30
A new student from Pakistan makes friends with Dhruv, who’s from India. They communicate in Hindi even though it is neither of their first languages. Diego, who’s from Honduras, meets them both in my room at lunch. When he finds out where each is from, he feigns horror: “You guys are enemies, what are you doing?!” They laugh. I chide Diego, “Don’t say that!” while silently applauding his geopolitical awareness. You just never know what these kids are going to say. I think this will be a fun year.
Previous: Mayoss 2024
