Bell Lap

It's that time of the year on campus where things get crazy. It's like the bell lap in a crit: a slight lull in action followed by a crazy surge. You go from 5th wheel, sitting in and feeling great, to being swallowed-whole by racers playing a different, and perhaps smarter, card.

November was a bit crazy but Thanksgiving break, coupled with a series of minimum days for parent conferencing, gave me a false sense of security. All of my paperwork looked good, my lessons were solid, and things felt organized.

That's until you get back.

The first week of December was full-speed ahead. Like a punch in the throat, new kids just showed up. 10 students exited the school before break and, when we returned, 10 new students had taken their place. 7 of these students had IEPs. Paperwork death. But, we are what we are. And in that vein, I decided to complain more, eat more, and ride my bike less.

My complete lack of fitness was confirmed by the fact that my front row call-up at the district championships proved useless after the first lap. First lap, heart rate pinned, thinking to myself, "you know, it would've been nice to at least get on the trainer after those long days at work."

I thought about all the weird stress eating I was doing. All the weird foods you pack into your belly when things go wrong, grades get messed up, papers get lost, or when the people living in the apartment above you start acting like idiots. All of those things. They all equal stress. And stress equals cookies. And noodles. And chicken.

I'm still not sure what will come of special education in my future. So as to make things specialized our government created different sections of an Individualized Education Plan (IEP) in order to make sure that teachers personalize each student's education. The problem is, there is no budget to hire the many teachers needed to make education a personalized experience. I have 31 kids on my caseload. There is not enough time in the day to give each student what they need, much less to give these students personalized attention to develop individual skills.

And so all of that means that racing bikes is pushed back. It's just a silly hobby, but at times, competition of any sort is a necessity. I need to feel like I'm training for some sort of athletic endeavor in order to get through these work slumps. I feel devastated at times because, though I'm lucky to have this job, it is this weird American "work 'till you drop" mentality that is slowly eating away at my spirit. We'll see how things end in June.

Where does the time go?

I found where the time goes. It goes out the window.

After getting hired by Synergy Charter Schools to build their RSP program at the brand new Quantum Academy High School, the only mantra I heard by the principal and board members was, "there are never enough hours in the day."

So true. So true.

But you know, we be racing now. And I'm actually getting better. The key to it all is keeping it in your brain. I know the big thing in cross right now is to "freak out" as is popular on the East Coast. I'm the exact opposite: go as fast as possible while still keeping the brain open. When I keep the brain open, the first lap is perfect:

Keep it upright, try not to put too many people in the tape, find the group, go go go.

I try to get a quick head count sometime during the first lap just to see how I fell in the hustle. It sounds lame, but top 16 through the first few corners works for me thus far.

The middle laps are all about finding the tempo, hitting the lines, staying off the brakes, and looking way ahead for the next group to latch on to.

Last lap: redemption. Always redemption. Get it back.

I love cross because it's all about me: about what I can pour into an effort, about how well I set my bike up, about my mental choices, my toughness, and my focus.

People have their niche, and 'cross is mine.

redemption

The Excitement and Danger of the Charter

So it has been awhile, and mainly because a lot has changed since the last post. No one reads. It's okay, this is slowly turning into a chronicle of my life just in case I go crazy enough to lose my memory.

I'm now residing in Long Beach, and it has been quite the move. What a fantastic city.

I've been training pretty hard, and fortunate enough to live in a cycling friendly city (though it is completely lacking in the 'mountains' department).

Interestingly enough, my offer with Celerity was rescinded within a few weeks of it being initially offered.

Remember that whole, "no job with Celerity without CSUDH" deal? That came back to haunt. CSUDH was utterly ineffective in processing my paperwork and, when Celerity called to check on my status, a lady in the department actually said that I didn't exist on paper, and was not even in the program!!

So, yea, they let me go. Unfortunately, it was the way they took back their offer that stunned me. Within a few weeks of being offered my spot, I get a letter with 2 sentences, effectively saying that we're taking back your offer. Unfortunately, instead of saying "we are rescinding your offer," it was instead phrased as, "we are RESENDING your offer."

So you can see where I would be a bit confused. I figured that after driving countless hours and delivering a fantastic demo lesson that I would be at least given a phone call. I can't expect to be hired if i'm technically not even a student eligible for the program (although, if they would have waited a few weeks, they would have seen the opposite). Still, the lack of respect shown to me left my feelings hurt, but it also left me with insane amounts of motivation to show the error of their ways.

After moving to Long Beach, I was given a hot tip about a job from a very grateful professor, and I went after it. Hardcore. I was in the principals face over the phone, via email. No one could shake me. After a series of interviews, I was offered ANOTHER special education job.

What?!?!

So now we got this sweet new pad and I've got myself a sweet new job (though there are still copious amounts of paperwork left) and things seem a bit more stable. very nice.

Why Mark McGwire should not be in the classroom

Is it not 2011? Are we not educating a future generation?

"A child is a person who is going to carry on what you have started...He is going to move in and take over your churches, schools, universities, and corporations. The fate of humanity is in his hands." -Abraham Lincoln

So, leaving out Abe's blatant sexism and issues with slavery and racism, we can still take this quote for face value: This little ones are going to be big ones, and when I'm old and weak, they will be deciding my fate.

So why this?

Forget about the disaster situation that is this classroom. Hand to God, I almost fainted when I stepped into the room. There are random stacks of papers everywhere in this classroom, not one of which is close to neat. There are paper scraps on top of mothballs on top of random geometric figures that were assembled years ago and left to collect dust in the nether-regions of this class. Forget about that.

That's Mark McGwire. Mark FREAKING McGwire. Big Mac. Mr. I plead the 5th. This is the guy that thought it was okay to use a steroid that was banned by the World Anti-Doping Agency, the IOC and the NFL, just because it wasn't banned in the MLB.

And he's taking notes on earthquakes with the kids right across from the Character Counts poster.

I don't expect the students to really know who McGwire is on a social level, they're definitely to young for that, but it would be interesting to hear a student raise questions about why it is that Mr. McGwire gets to hold a place of prestige in the classroom, right next to Griffey and Gwynn.

I'm sure McGwire is sorry, and I'm sure he's a great guy. I bet he even serves as a role model for young players in terms of what not to do. But he has no place here, towering 6 feet overhead.

Hired and "The Intern Situation Explained"

Yes, yes yes....yes yes yes....yes yes yes.

So I have finally been hired.

After a few trips up to L.A. and some demo lesson action, I was left feeling as though all my efforts had been for not. I did my demo on a Monday, and was told that I would hear the verdict by the following Monday. After two weeks had passed, I naturally assumed that they had passed on me, and that it would be more grinding for Mr. Smith.

Another week passed by before I got word from some of my professional references that the school, Celerity Charter, had actually been conducting a background check! This was good news that became nervous news when I received a call from Celerity asking for MORE professional references (I had listed a principal and two guide teachers). After giving contact information for two teachers that I have subbed for, another week passed before hearing anything again.

It wasn't until the following Friday that I received a call from the Board of Directors offering me the position contingent on my placement in the Special Ed Mild/Mod program at CSUDH. And this is where it gets confusing.

In classic Mr. Smith fashion, I have to delay my true enjoyment and celebration until CSU Dominguez Hills says it's okay for me to have a job.

It seems that, while Celerity Schools has offered me employment, CSUDH has to verify that this is a proper teaching job (it is), and more so, that it fits their description of a proper Special Education class. The bottom line here is that, even after earning this job, CSUDH has the final word.

There is no job with Celerity without CSUDH. There is no program with CSUDH without Celerity. And the biggest issue is that all of this is out of my hands.

Oooooooooh well....

Sometimes you need to make some changes...

Okay. Take a look at this picture. Ask yourself if you see anything wrong. Anything at all. Go ahead. I dare ya.

Anyone see it? The whole thing about having "electricity" in your pants? And how big is that charge that you're hiding in there?

Oh, it sure is big. Is that a light bulb or are you just happy to see me?

And in case you were wondering what level class that this screenplay was written for, that would be 2nd grade. Yes, 2nd graders came very close to talking about having a big huge electric charge that turned into a big long electric snake that suddenly jumped out of their pants.

And that is why, as a teacher, you need to preview EVERYTHING that comes your way. You can't even take a corporate prepared play about electricity for granted, because clearly there are some jokers in the lot.

What to make of getting crushed...?

There is this one thing about bike racing and the attempt to become a professional teacher, the one golden, great equalizer amongst both: as an individual, you really, really put yourself out there.

There is no one to blame when I fail. There are never excuses, only the hard truth that today, yesterday, I was not good enough to succeed.

Will I be good enough tomorrow?

I am expecting good things both on the bike and in the classroom. For now, I will keep the details close to heart in an attempt to shield myself from the possibility of allowing my hopes to reach a new high.

I have visions of personal achievement, a larger bank account, and that sense of accomplishment. They dance through my mind like the apparitions in Disneyland's Haunted House Ride.

They're there, I'm not sure how, I can't touch them, but they're there.