Here is one more reason that Houston, Texas is ass. I found out today that when a friend of mine was getting gas last night five minutes from here a guy pulled a gun on her, got in her car, made her drive to this other place and then took all her money.

Shitty, shitty, shitty. Houston is ass. Just thought I would let you know. Ugh.  ¶ 3:39 PM

  Even Teach for America teachers get a day off now and again. Today is mine. Last night I finally got to leave this godforsaken University of Houston campus and check out what Houston proper had to offer. The weather last night was not nearly as absolutely repulsive as it normally is, so I was feeling pretty good. Downtown is nice and big and I felt a lot more human than I have here.

We had margueritas and Mexican food...two things that totally soothe my soul. We were all so weird from two weeks of pure stress that we were all bombed by the first drink. Me, being the trooper that I am, had four more. I finally found out what it really means when people say "She has Texas hair". That shit is big and blond, yo. I was in the bathroom and I found that I was staring at this woman with my mouth open and realized that that was probably a really good way to get my queer California ass kicked Texas style. Her hair was huge and mesmerizing. She was tan and thin and her bellybutton ring was giant and sparkly as it peeked out from her white sleeveless half-shirt. Her jeans were acid washed and had fringe. (Marguerite- you would have loved her.)

It was like a scene out of a movie. Both grotesque and beautiful. But I closed my mouth and left the room and didn't get beat up. Good times. Then we went to a pub and hung out and then came back here.

Last night was funny in another way, too. I got to have one of those long "lesbian relationship talks" with someone I haven't even kissed. It was soooo lesbian of us. What was great was that both of us knew that we were doing it and we both saw the humor in it, but we both felt like we needed to do it. Ahh, I love women. Processing as a way of life isn't the worst thing that could ever happen.

So, yesterday the sodomy laws got over-turned because of a Texas case and today I am going to Houston pride! This is very exciting for me. I am hoping that Houston pride is big. It should be fun. My friend and I have a goal of making out with a cowgirl. I don't know why that would have to be hard to do. I don't even care about that, really. It is just so nice to have a whole day to not think about how to teach internal and external characteristics in a short story.

Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!  ¶ 11:35 AM

  Here is what my lesson sounded like to my kids today:

Me: "What we are going to blah blah blah blah is blah blah blah HAPPY!" (as I jump around and smile and laugh)
Students: "Ok, Miss."
Me: "So if you are blah blah blah ANGRY you would blah blah blah FUCK THEM UP blah blah blah, yes?"
The room erupts in laughter.

Let me explain. I grew up with a Spanish speaking parent. However, I never really learned to speak Spanish. But my co-teachers and I decided last night that we would try adding as much Spanish as we could, in order to teach these kids. I thought to myself, "That's great! I know a lot of Spanish words from Mom!"

My objective was to teach my students how to recognize internal traits (happiness, sadness, anger, etc.) in others in order for them to be able to do the same in a text. So I am showing them things they might do or say if they were happy or angry. The happy part went just fine. Then I thought about how when people in my family were talking about getting in a fight, they used the word "chingasos". When I began to show my kids what anger looked like, I said "So if you are angry, you might say to someone 'I will give you some chingasos". Then they laughed and the other teacher in the room who really does speak Spanish looked at me like I had just torn up a picture of the Pope.

As it turns out, for those of you who don't speak Spanish, "chingasos" actually means something very close to "I am going to fuck you up". Because my students don't speak English, that phrase is probably the only thing they understood that I said all day. Can you imagine their confusion?

I do think that this is funny. I KNOW the kids think it is funny. My mom, who taught me that word to begin with, REALLY thinks it's funny.

Being a teacher is a bit of a nightmare. The people here at Houston Institute of Teach for America are dropping like flies...or so the rumor mill makes it seem. I pass by sobbing people all of the time. It is amazing how stressful a room full of kids can be and how much damage not enough sleep can do to a group of people. Sometimes it feels like a science experiement where they are just pushing to see how far we can all go before we crack up completely.

I am tired of Houston. I want to be somewhere where people are talking to me about chakras and energy and where everyone knows Bush sucks and is bad for humans. I even want a bowl of brown rice and some Bragg's and that's just not like me.

But I have met some really cool people. And in the end, all of this will fade and the people will remain. My life is always like that.  ¶ 6:20 PM

  Ugh. That is all I'm sayin'. Ugh.

Ok. That is not all I'm sayin'. So here I am in this program that is invested in helping underserved children learn. But right now I feel like they got rid of my kids "real" teacher in order for me to experiment on them. I walked into my very first class on Monday, ready to change the world. And man are these kids great. Quiet, obedient, hanging on my every word. I am on top of the world, feeling like I am really doing something. No more slinging latte's for me. No more pouring whiskey into the mouths of alcoholics or selling Harry Potter books by the dozens at a bookstore. No, these kids had their eyes on me and they were concentrating.

Very quickly, however, I realized they were looking at me so intently not because they were rapt in my lesson. No, they were trying very hard to figure out who I was. They were concentrating intently on why the hell I was there. They were focused on figuring out what the hell I was saying.

Yes, it's true. My class speaks barely a word of English. They are level one ESL. Which, for the record, means they didn't have any idea what I was talking about when I said, "Please take out a sheet of paper". Imagine my shock when I made this simple request and the kids all turned to each other muttering in Spanish and, in one case, Vietnamese. I suppose Lang Li was just muttering to herself.

I'm not gonna lie. I don't know what to do. I am in part shock, part panic. I spent the morning with them as they stared at me with a look that seemed to say, "What are you going to do? Do something". They were polite with me, but I swear they were disappointed by my lack of experience.

So my first day of school ending with me coming home and sobbing for about two hours. I have begun to question my whole idea about why a person would do this. I thought I was providing a service. But now, I am wondering if I am not another way that these kids are being disadvantaged.

I have to go and write lesson plans. I barely learned how to do that and I certainly don't know how to do it for these kids. I want to teach them something, but I have never learned about ESL. This is not like the books. Probably everyone says that.

  ¶ 9:01 PM