The Roaming Substitute Teacher Chronicles - A CRAzie working in various districts around the SF Bay Area

Greetings. If you have arrived at my blog, it's because I am trying to write about my experiences as a substitute teacher on call at various districts and several private schools. I've subbed for the past eight weeks and I now find myself on the verge of a ninth.

What caused me to write about my journeys as a sub is the fact that so many thoughts arise on my ride home besides how to circumvent late afternoon traffic or school traffic as school is out after a long day of subbing. My mind is thinking about how I did as a teacher and what to improve on for the next assignment, whether it is for the same grade or at the same school. I was fortunate to sub at a school in east Palo Alto for a record five days straight. I really enjoyed my long duration at that school because I got to know the teachers and meet the principal and secretaries.

I've compiled a set of forms to fill out at the end of the day when I sub. First, is the note I leave for the teacher updating him or her about how the day went, who was absent or misbehaving, what was covered and not covered and more importantly how I intend to improve on my next assignment.

At this point, two months into the school year and another six months left, I find that my first year of subbing has been a great way to get to know schools both as a visitor and as a learner. My travels have led me to being observant of many details from noticing how some staff lounges possess counter top stoves and oven ranges to how some classrooms have smartboards or others still have dry erase.

Perhaps this blog is a way of recording my travels and providing an outlet for me to communicate my own journey through teaching by using my words and then allowing others to provide feedback and comments that will allow me to grow as a educator. Perhaps it would help to provide a prompt of questions followed by a brief running record of how my day went. So henceforth this is what a typical post will look like:

running record of the day (time - description)

reflective questions:

What have you been through?

What are you going through?

What did you do that went well?

What did you do that didn't go well?

How will you improve next time?

Thank you for listening. Mahalo and Aloha.

Sippin' on Hot Water

Winter Break's officially started!

So I intend to pledge to:

de-clutter my living spaces

watch and overanalyze Woody Allen flicks

read and digest research articles for my lit review for qualitative research

So keep them holiday tunes on, stay warm with a hot beverage (hot water for me, as i've had two cups of coffee, one decaf with lots of non dairy and honey, another a strong vietnamese coffee (french roast with condensed milk).

Will post more, must return to break activities. Stay tuned....

memories of better times

At times, a memory from a past experience wanders into my deep subconscious as I dream. For instance, one time as I awoke in the morning, I hear a crushing sound on the rocks in my mom's backyard garden. The times I spent looking for her to pick a call or called her on the road only to realize she was in her garden.

crush. crush. The splash of a bucket into another bucket. The pouring of water.

The smell of wet soil and sink water submerged in kitchen refuse and other strange materials like soy grounds from making soy milk or water after peeling shrimp.

Her garden abounds in produce, from spiny English cucumbers, yellow green zucchinis, and crunchy green beans.

No wonder I get nauseated when I encounter frozen or processed foods. As Marvin and Tammy sang in 1968, 'ain't nothin' like the real thing...' You can't beat home grown and hand picked veggies. Especially that sound of them stir fried with olive oil and minced garlic in mom's wok.

I suppose I am fortunate to have a green thumb mom, who balances work during the day and tending her garden at night.

At times, I wonder if I have the patience and persistence to 'cultivate' my own garden. Orange and persimmon trees in the back and a lemon tree in the front. To be surrounded by fruits and veggies yet living in a suburban landscape devoid of fauna and flora, except maybe the occassional shade tree or runover rodent. Take your pick, raccoon, skunk, squirrel.

They scurry just to get by on the fence or to cross the road, only to realize that the evening commute is on as they face the onslaught of mid size luxury cars and oversized SUVs.

I wonder who weeps and mourns for these lost ones. Rather than stare and feel remorse, who takes the initiative and removes the carcasses and ensures that they have a resting place for their tattered and ruined bodies? It brings great sadness in my heart when I see a runover stray cat or a indigent crossing a railroad track. Perhaps at one time they were a part of a family once. But now things have changed.

Life is difficult and hard. But I know there is time for everything under the sun as the Good Book says. Time to live, a time to die. A time for everything.

So let it be written...

Strumming on my Guitar while it Smiles

I find that there is some thing ethereal about music. Sometimes, I see the singer telling it as it is, like a story. It takes me on a place, a journey to somewhere foreign but also familiar.

I'm trying to learn how to play some songs I intend to play at camp but I'm stuck on a chord. It doesn't sound just right.

Ok, I'll be honest. I'm trying to play Baby by Justin Bieber. But its cuz I just remember the first time i heard it. From the mouths of first graders who are in adoration of the teen idol. they'd keep seeing 'baby baby baby noo'

Then the teacher would say "No more justin bieber!"

But then at the talent show, some middle schoolers, both girls, one stood and sang while the other strummed a ukelele. And I heard the song unfold.

And it brought me to a place where I was a young boy, enamored with this one girl. And that crush, that broken heart feeling that it could never be real only alive and ok in my mind.

I remember her magenta pink head band and her crooked teeth. How her grandma would pick her up from school walking her to the car as her hand clutched that pink Hello Kitty metal lunch pail that no one has anymore.

I recall messing up a print out on a computer and she said 'it's ok' with such a gentleness that was more out of courtesy but for me it was so intimate. I was a first grader then, but my feelings persisted.

One time, i went to the old library, when it was still open. And I hid behind a concrete column and saw her reading a book. I was in fourth grade mind you but she still looked the same.

Well, I guess Baby lyrics bring me to that sad song feeling when I'm poised in front of a mic, singing depressing pop songs like ' I'm With You' by Avril Lavrigne, "I Want It That Way' by the Backstreet Boys and ' On Bended Knee' by Boyz II Men on karaoke. The crowd cheers but in my heart, there's a place that reminds me that memory.

sigh.

I'll go strum up the guitar and lay down some riffs.

see ya in front of the mic.

steam

As the water comes to a boil, I place the platter of prepared fish,

a clean, descaled fish sits in an arrangement of scallions, ginger, pickled turnip and sliced jujubes

Soon, this will become a meat dish to the stir fry, the white rice, and the mustard greens just picked from the garden and quickly blanched.

This force that propelled industrialization, the growth of the railroad and the cost of many lives (primarily Chinese and Irish workers) from east to west. The concept of heating water and coals and engines created the basis of the locomotive engine.

A loud outburst that has no rational purpose.

'It just came out that way. I was upset.'

Or 'just let her be. She just blowing off some steam.'

I hear the steam cooker whistling away as it maximizes hrs of cooking into one hour.

It's fast, saves energy but is it the same?

I hate it when I forget to let the leftovers from dinner cool and the steam condenses on the saran wrap. The droplets of water are very unappealing....

cookies

baking cookies is messy but they all pack such flavor and sustenance.

perhaps in a short while, I will complement these sweet morsels with a cup of hot decaf tea.

I know, i know. its just that lately caffeine has become a habit. And when I try to wean off it, it gets tough.

Maybe I'll switch to decaf. I like the flavor but don't need all the caffeine.

I'm listening to interesting music right now. really mellow and farscaping.

I am so eager to just sit and mull over the dull moments of life.

But such time is wasteful and when the cookie's eaten, the moment's gone. Time to get back to work. Get that 2:30 feeling outta my mind so I can focus.

Corn: Neither Salt nor Sweet

Seems like each time I nibble and chomp on a cob stuff gets stuck between my teeth.

ok disclaimer, sorry if this grosses people out.

You know I hear there are different schools of eating corn kernels off the cob. Some slice em off, some pick em up, other use the lower mandible and nibble off rows while others just 'taz' (like Taz from the WB) through 'em but just munching off what they can and what's left is the fuzzy stuff.

You know eating corn with butter or drizzled on a Cajun sauce after a round of crawdads, I like how fresh corn is so versatile. My mom used to make this superb egg drop soup using salted egg whites, Knorr chicken boullion and Green Giant canned sweet corn.

Never fancied creamed corn though.