"She is so nice!"

I am substitute teacher, but only for the past two months. In those two months I have become every student's favorite but not because I give out candy (which isn't allowed anyway) or let them use their smartphones, or not make them do the assigned work. I am their favorite because I am nice.

I'm nice?

While I am surprised by the comment, I do not believe it is said in jest. Students are perfectly serious when they compliment my niceness. I have had the chance to observe some of their other teachers...

Now, wait!

I know, I know, I am only a substitute teacher, and, like I said, have only been a substitute teacher for TWO MONTHS. The latter two months of what would be a college fall semester. I don't have the stress of lesson plans. I haven't had to plan lessons while I am sick, nursing children; trying to pay rent or a mortgage, or car repairs. I have not had to attend conferences or meetings. I have not had endless hours grading papers with indecipherable handwriting (worse if it's in neon gel pen!). I have not had to interact with ANY parents. I don't have to silently protest contracts. Nothing. I, as a substitute teacher, have nothing- no problems that stereotypically and truthfully run teachers' lives.

But, if in two months I astonish your students of four months with my niceness is something not wrong?

Everyone has off-days. Totes mcgotes. I get that. I do. I am person therefore I have off-days. You are a person therefore you have off-days, but surely your days can't be so off that you cannot be nice to your students.

I am convinced that adults never stop being children. Adults tell children to stop bulling each other. But do adults ever tell other adults to stop bullying adults? Do adults ever tell other adults to stop bullying children?

It is a lie to believe that bullying only happens to children, or that it's only children who bully other children.  I may not tease Susie about her pig tails anymore, but now her heels are too high and her hair too flat and fake.

What is wrong with me?

I don't understand how any school can promote anti-bullying but allow it to happen with its teachers.

Anytime I walk into a classroom I have had students approach me to ask, "Are you the sub?"

"Yep."

"Just so you know, this is a bad class." And they're not referring to the subject.

I simply look at the student and say, "We'll see." And they are never a bad class. They are just loud.

I've observed that most students associate silence with goodness and noise with badness which would be fine IF THE WORLD WERE THAT BLACK AND WHITE. Both silence and noise are detrimental depending on situation. Some students thrive on studying in puck-rock concerts, while others need places where talk is forbidden. And I understand how hard it is to provide both to a class of 15-30 students, but if you cannot cope with that requirement then you shouldn't be a teacher. Taking out your frustrations on your students is not the way to deal with your frustrations.

Taking out your frustrations on your spouse, or pet, or television, or vegetables, or boss, or peers- that is wrong.

Assuming that that one student who annoyed you once will annoy you all the time, forevermore, also wrong.

And let's be real here: if the worst thing your students do to you is annoy you, maybe you should teach in the projects where peoples issues depend more on life and death than attitude adjustments. I would like to see you solve their problems by yelling at them, or giving them detention, or sending them to the principal's office. Band-aid solutions do not work.

It is amazing how many 'silly', or 'off-topic' things students will say without intending to be 'silly' or 'off-topic'. If you, as a teacher, just ask your student to clarify his statement, he might actually have a point. It might make other students giggle, but it certainly got their attention in a way you couldn't. Students want you to take them seriously as much as you want them to take you seriously. It is a give and take; a two-way street. To suggest it is neither is to miss the point of education.

Sometimes the student isn't be 'silly' or 'off-topic' but is thinking out loud. Sometimes the student may have hit the ball too far left though he thought he hit center--he's not trying to distract you, he is thinking through what you are saying. And when you dismiss his thoughts as 'silly' or 'off-topic' you discourage how he processes things and you therefore discourage his opinion and his input. On a larger scale, you could be discouraging his input and opinion where it matters most: in politics, in economics, in relationships, in art, in science... (Maybe I should reread The Abolition of Man.)

We salute Einstein for being unable to pass elementary school maths but overcoming that, but that's because we know he ended up being Einstein. Will you not give your students the opportunity to be Einstein?

We all know that schools have flaws. Good God, schools are made by people who are flawed- of course our products will turn out flawed, but that does not justify meanness or anger. Anger is and can be justified. We should all be mad there isn't more being done to make better our education system. We should be mad that the ways in which we try to improve our education system are band-aid approaches.

But that isn't the students' faults.

And has it ever occurred to you that students annoy you just to see how mad you could get- that's worth a trip to the principal's office! Now they know ALL your buttons. Good you gave them that. Augh.





I understand it is naive of me to think this way. I understand that some students come with warning labels- some teachers do (there are websites dedicated to rating professors)! But if anti-bullying is supposed to stop children, adults, EVERYONE, from judging a book by its cover, then by being nice I choose also to ignore the reviews.

I do not know these students. I understand they have a reputation. I will let them show me who they are, thank you. They are not my enemy. They are people who want to see what metal I am made of. They want to know if I'll treat them with the respect I ask them to give me.

I wish students were not so dumbstruck by my niceness. I wish we were all nicer to each other. No one has to go to college or university for niceness so it can't be impossible to achieve.

I know the world isn't going to be nice to them, and "That's reality!" but when the world wasn't nice to me it was nice to know I had a few people I could turn to. I do think it's important to prepare students for the 'real world' but not to the point where I have to sacrifice 'niceness'. Once niceness is sacrificed, I've stopped being a student alongside them, and teachers need always to be students alongside them.

An Oppressive Reality

Do you know, I always hear about how poorly treated are Christians in the US. I'm not saying that mistreatment cannot happen in the US, but I wonder- are the stories I hear, or the news I read only a small percentage of what really goes on? What's the other percentage?




When I was younger I was, obviously, a picky eater, so my parents would tell me, "Tine, there are children starving in Africa- eat your food." In my head, I would respond, "Well, then send it to them." What my parents were trying to tell me is to be grateful for the food set before me, I only know that now.

Lately, I've been reading and learning that there is a food shortage right here in this, my adopted homeland of the US. No, I haven't discerned which information is propaganda and which is factual, but whether exaggerated or otherwise, there are those who starve here in the US. To imagine that every US citizen is well-fed is to be disillusioned. Social-economic problems are not reserved for second and third world countries, because of this, though first world countries have the ability, perhaps even the responsibility of helping those weaker than themselves this gives the illusion that somehow those who are helped must be weaker than those who give help: this is perfectly fallacious.

Since problems do not choose a type of person, persons; state, country, nation; era, I have to know, believe and understand that problems can and will arise everywhere- anywhere.

I do not doubt that people starve anywhere and everywhere (willing and unwilling starvation).

I do not doubt that Christians are poorly treated even in this religiously-free country, but I do doubt the extent to which Christians are poorly treated. I sometimes wonder if this poor treatment is unwittingly self-inflicted.

I cannot tell you how many sermons I've heard about the oppression of the Christian faith in even a small town coffee shop; how many articles I read about pastors wrongly imprisoned for sharing the Gospel.

I am well aware that Christ said if they persecuted him how much more so will his followers be persecuted, and yet, how much we do tolerate in this country. Some (left or right winged, or middle, or none) say we tolerate too much, forgetting that they themselves are a part of those tolerated.

But like the 'starving children in Africa' analogy to my younger picky-eater years, the fear of embarrassment for sharing your faith solicitously in a small town coffee shop cannot be compared to persecution of Christians that occurs elsewhere in the world. (And if you misunderstand the former comparison, let me clarify: 'starving children in Africa' can hardly be compared to a middle-class child's refusal to eat meals; however an attempt to teach gratefulness.)

Honestly, who doesn't get teased for being too smart, too tall, too freckly, too pale, too quiet, too loud, too girly, too boyish, too weak, too strong? We tell every child that teasing is just going to happen, but what matters is not what others think (because they're not thinking in the first place) but what you think of yourself, and how you choose to live your own life. We do not judge others because they can't be judged--we do not judge others because we, too, are to be judged.

What poor treatment is teasing for my faith? Is that really the least I can suffer for my faith? That's not really suffering- I just need to get over my insecurities. Much more insecurities than persecutions!

We ought to be more careful of the words we choose to describe our individual pains.

Plain and Cluttered: How much stuff is too much stuff?

A few weeks ago I visited a new friend's home. I got to see her bedroom, and what a lovely bedroom it was. Everything was white, save the blue, black, or gray accents that dotted the room. I felt I could breathe easy in that room. Then I took a look at her bookcase only to be struck with jealousy. "Oh," I thought, "She only owns the books that mean something to her." Immediately inspired I decided that it was about time I get rid of my clutter.

The very next day I attacked my bedroom. Well, actually. I wasn't attacking it. I was...healing it. The days and weeks before I'd been attacking it with my carelessness so...

The very next day I brushed away my bedroom's dusty wounds. I refolded clean clothes that had become a new rug over the rug I already had. I couldn't make my bed because it had to serve as a filing cabinet. There's a lot of stuff I have that may or may not be needed! Hey. Getting rid of things takes time. I mean, what if I accidentally throw out my social security card because it's stuffed in an old journal I didn't check?! HORROR!

Before I could touch my books I had to file away important documents, including sentimental trinkets, cards, etc. I picked out more clothes to donate. Then it was time to tackle the bookshelves and their books. And the floor's books. And the closet's books. Books, books, books. Everywhere. I don't even know why I own all these. Some of these books deserve to be burned.

I know. I'm a heathen. But seriously.

I was able to get rid of three trash bags worth of clothes, and four boxes worth of books. (I donated most of my children's literature and ESL textbooks to an English teacher I know.)

I looked at my books and clothes and was disgusted. Ah! I have so much crap.

Not that Anna Karenina is crap. It isn't! I love all things Tolstoy, but really, I haven't touched that book since I bought it. I would've been much better off borrowing it from the library or a friend. I don't need to own all the books recommended to me.

Yeah, I still want to have a personal library, but as of now, I've neither the space nor income to merit starting a library now.

All my donation bags are still sitting in the back of my trunk, waiting to be donated. My bedroom still isn't entirely clean.

I told my friend (with the inspirational bedroom) about my cleaning adventure. She thought it was a great idea. How she'd done that a couple years back. Then she asked this: "How is it that I still have to buy new [things, like clothing]? How is it that I still have to get rid of stuff after already getting rid of stuff?"

I immediately thought of third world countries, well, not just third world countries. Just as every third world country may entertain first world conditions, every first world country ignores its third world citizens.

How much stuff is too much stuff?

In spite of third world conditions some of those families are much happier with little to nothing than people who live in penthouses. They don't seem to have to hashtag their first world problems.

Now, I'm a bit of a pack rat. As much as I admired my new friend's simple, plain bedroom I also admire my old friend's thrift shop bedroom. When I walk into my old friend's bedroom I feel as though I find new treasures every time. I'm a lot like my old friend: sentiment overwhelms us. But I'm a lot like my new friend: clutter is still clutter.What sentiments do I still want? Besides, some sentiments were set on fire (by those with whom I share the sentiment) before I could even decide whether or not I should maintain sentimental feelings.

Sentiment has no practical value. But practicality without sentiment is still cold enough to burn.

There are still things I want to buy that I'll probably donate again, so...why do I want to buy them?

"How is it that I still have to get rid of stuff after already getting rid of stuff?"

I am in constant excess. I cannot possibly have so much attachment to so much material that I couldn't remember owning anyway.

No, I'm not entering survival mode. I am aware that I should be grateful I don't have to survive; I should be grateful I can thrive. But I must also live as though I am aware of others.

I ain't keepin' up wit' no Joneses...or Kardashians for that matter.

I don't know how much stuff is too much stuff, but I think it's a telltale sign to get rid of it if I haven't used it in a while. Two years of uselessness is a telltale sign.

Okay. I'm going to finish cleaning out my room now! It'll be Pinterest worthy, I think :D

"...want to fly."

Yesterday my grandfather recruited me to teach him Internet basics; I willingly agreed. He'd been asking and asking for a couple weeks now but I hadn't been available in the mornings until, well, just yesterday morning!- I planned nothing except to download Spotify for him because he's also been asking me to find obscure music records  of Ray Conniff and Frank Sinatra, and since the library proved unhelpful (unfortunately) Spotify seemed the best option. Although, he doesn't know how to link his computer to his Bose stereo, which annoys him, but he'll settle for regular audio if he has to.

First world problems, bro. 

So, he sits down in front of his computer and asks all these questions; making all these comments:

"My computer is old, I know."

"You know, I type really slow on the computer."

"Aha, I don't remember my password. You have to write it down for me. See, there. Here's the tape. Tape it there."

"Can I listen to music with this?"

"Do I have to click twice?"

"YouTube?"

and my favorite conversation:

"'What's on your mind?' What's on my mind? I don't know what's on my mind."

   "Grandpa, that's called a status."

   "What's it for?"

   [pause] "Um...it's to, uh, share your thoughts with your Facebook friends. So, what're you thinking about now? You could put like 'I'm eating' or 'Watching television'."

   "I want to fly."

   "Oh, so, you want me to-."

   "W. ...Justine, where's the A? A. A. A. N..."

(Now just imagine all this said with a Filipino accent and you've got the gist of it.)

Sometimes I forget how different my grandfather's generation is from my generation. I forget that it wasn't as quick to communicate. Travel wasn't as quick. Shopping wasn't as quick. Music wasn't as quick. Television wasn't as quick. It's ironic that as people age, the rest of the world moves faster, and sometimes elderly people find the need to keep pace.

Not that grandfather is taking a typing course anytime soon. I think he's pretty content with idly listening to music on Spotify. 

After all, he did say that he'd call me if he needed help.

I am honored to be such an expert on Facebook usage!

Although, I have thought about buying my grandfather a book called 'Facebook for Seniors'.

Mostly for kicks and giggles. I wouldn't actually ask my grandfather to read it. 

...I might read it though.

No, no, no! I'm not ranting against technology. Hello, blogger here! I use my Facebook statuses to share newspaper articles, or (what I hope are) encouraging words, songs, organizations, publications; I am sharing and sharing and sharing, but yeah, 'What's on my mind?' Not always very important things. Not always very honorable things. (Zuko, anyone?) 

WongFu Productions has a perfect illustration of our love/hate relationship with technology. In fact, they have five very good, very funny illustrations of it.

Care to watch it?

For those of you who are wondering why my grandfather wants to fly it's because he's a retired pilot.