Walking through the arid spaces of a shadowed alleyway,
The same filmed scene replays itself again,
Nearby an elderly woman is searching through rubbish bins,
While a bearded man on cardboard planks lets out a silent cough,
This is the life that perpetuates itself,
There is no escape as the dilapidated walls close in,
As the decrepit ladders rise further out of reach,
Unless, unless…
Born with the capability of sight, thought, and speech,
One has the ability to see how the system oppresses us so.
Though societal complacency may be the cause,
Or binding contracts which keep us down,
Or perhaps even without realizing what is,
We can work the system to our collective gain,
To create a different sort of eminent change,
To benefit our common humanity and dissolve its ignorance,
By thinking, speaking, acting anew.
Cardstock heroes and felt-tip marker.
Scratch the ground with your shoe.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
boxed guitars
Yesterday was my third day at the job--one that was more musically inclined perhaps. While setting up the tables with pre-made Smuckers packages of peanut butter and jelly and pre-made grilled chesse sandwiches for snack time (I wonder if snack time takes into account food allergies), I decided to voice my opinion about the need for art and music education to two of my co-workers, and they passively agreed with the usual "yeah" and nod of the head. During recess break, I decided to browse through the grey-colored 'Enrichment' cabinets in the storage room to discover fifteen or so child-sized guitars in boxes, practically brand-shining-new. Thinking that these guitars would be more beneficial in the hands of kids that were throwing basketballs against a red brick wall for lack of a basketball court, I took one out to the playground to test the waters.
Not sooner than ten seconds after setting foot on the pavement outside did a crowd of children amass around me with lit-up eyes and hands reaching out asking me if I could play. Unfortunately, I have yet to develop guitar playing skills, so instead showed them how to hold the instrument and passed it off to one of the kids, with the idea that the kids would share among themselves this strange new object. However, their 'thirst' to have a try at the guitar was left unsatisfied so I headed back into the storage room to get two more. 'Pick-the-number I had in my head' was the way I initially decided to distribute these instruments, but with 15 kids shouting different numbers, and with the kids all somehow claiming to have picked the same exact number I later announced to have in mind even though I didn't hear as such, I opted to hand the guitars to the most quiet children.
After recess, I went over to the one-room library to wait around for children in need of tutoring to show up. Not having anything to do while other than waiting, I decided to take a look through a janitor collection bin next to the door. To my surprise, two boom box CD players were in this bin marked as broken. Thinking that perhaps they were still functional, I brought them into the library, cleaned them off, plugged them in, and loaded in my Beatles and Gorillaz Cd's. And yes, they still worked.
After jamming to Last Living Souls, Strawberry Fields and other tunes for twenty minutes or so, I ended up tutoring two kindergarten kids and another kid who the program staff termed as very special. It seems to be the case that this kid is perhaps autistic and learns through the memorization of answers, rather than fully understanding the concepts behind simple addition problems and spelling. I experimented with various methods including finger counting but that didn't work so well with numbers past ten, and the five-line tally which somehow produced nine-line tallies. On the brighter side, this kid expressed interest in the guitars I brought out during recess. Perhaps I will locate some students at my campus who are talented in instrument playing to come one day and play and teach songs to these kids.
Not sooner than ten seconds after setting foot on the pavement outside did a crowd of children amass around me with lit-up eyes and hands reaching out asking me if I could play. Unfortunately, I have yet to develop guitar playing skills, so instead showed them how to hold the instrument and passed it off to one of the kids, with the idea that the kids would share among themselves this strange new object. However, their 'thirst' to have a try at the guitar was left unsatisfied so I headed back into the storage room to get two more. 'Pick-the-number I had in my head' was the way I initially decided to distribute these instruments, but with 15 kids shouting different numbers, and with the kids all somehow claiming to have picked the same exact number I later announced to have in mind even though I didn't hear as such, I opted to hand the guitars to the most quiet children.
After recess, I went over to the one-room library to wait around for children in need of tutoring to show up. Not having anything to do while other than waiting, I decided to take a look through a janitor collection bin next to the door. To my surprise, two boom box CD players were in this bin marked as broken. Thinking that perhaps they were still functional, I brought them into the library, cleaned them off, plugged them in, and loaded in my Beatles and Gorillaz Cd's. And yes, they still worked.
After jamming to Last Living Souls, Strawberry Fields and other tunes for twenty minutes or so, I ended up tutoring two kindergarten kids and another kid who the program staff termed as very special. It seems to be the case that this kid is perhaps autistic and learns through the memorization of answers, rather than fully understanding the concepts behind simple addition problems and spelling. I experimented with various methods including finger counting but that didn't work so well with numbers past ten, and the five-line tally which somehow produced nine-line tallies. On the brighter side, this kid expressed interest in the guitars I brought out during recess. Perhaps I will locate some students at my campus who are talented in instrument playing to come one day and play and teach songs to these kids.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
work, first day
On a cloudy Tuesday after my classical social theory class, I made the first of many intended drives to Hearne, Texas for my new twice-a-week part-time job working with children from low-income families through an after-school program in perhaps the poorest area of the state I have been to yet.
My first day was perhaps a bit unorganized as most first days are--bureaucracy, new streets, and overactive children among the few. Driving down 2818 and then onto TX-6 with roadkill ranging from dog to cow on the side of the road every so often, I found myself in an underdeveloped small blue-collar town where the only recognizable commercial landmarks among run-down local businesses and typical neighborhoods with repainted homes and green lawns were a McDonald's, Pizza Hut, Exxon, and First National Bank of Texas. After filling out the paperwork necessary to start the job, I was off over a 'bridge' where I eventually located Eastside Elementary. Finding parking under a tree near an unpaved driveway which served as the school bus loading and parent vehicle waiting area, I ventured into the open-air corridors past lines of predominantly minority children lead by mostly female teachers at the school day's end.
Asking around, I eventually found the office, and after the confusion was sorted out, I headed over to the small cafeteria with no stage where children participating in the after-school program were seated at long cafeteria tables which had been re-painted over many times with coats of white paint. Most, if not all of the kids looked over in my direction and exchanged fascinated whispers about my appearance (I was perhaps a little overdressed with dress-shirt, jeans, a blazer and my mo-hawk hairstyle) as I asked some of my co-workers what it was exactly I was supposed to be doing.
After their afternoon snack, the kids were herded over to the play ground in lines to enjoy recess--I have never seen anyone as excited as this bunch about getting into line. Walking past a non-working water fountain and the outdoor hallways in dire need of aesthetic if not functional repair, I found a spot on the pavement with my co-workers observing the children at first before joining in their football toss game--sadly, the football was of the crumbly soft Nerf variety well past its prime, and unfortunately the receptive children did not pass the ball among themselves, but instead all faced towards the direction of two of my co-workers to have the ball eagerly thrown to them. Feeling that a new game was in order, I went into the equipment room after being informed that a set of soccer balls would not be in until the next week--what I found was a bag of mostly deflated and worn down basketballs and volleyballs. I opted for a few volleyballs, and brought them out to the kids. However, the same kick the ball back to the adults and not just among the kids continued despite the new game.
After recess and back in the cafeteria, I learned that I would be substituting for one of the absent tutors that usually led the purple group. After doing attendance, and still not fully sure of what the misleading schedule meant, I went around checking on the homework of two of the children, while encouraging three others to freely draw whatever it is that came to their minds---in this case, it was jack-o-lanterns. Following the schedule, I took the kids over to the gym room--a small 15x25 enclosure with two colorful kid-friendly carpets on the floor. Not knowing what the kids usually played in this environment, I let them decide, and after five minutes or so, they finally agreed on a game of 'race'--a two-team relay race around a color cone. This game lasted for about ten minutes, give or take, before another co-worker entered the room to announce that P.E. meant recess time on the playground. So off to the playground we went, where two other co-workers stood already waiting to have the kids play a game of obstacle course--something eerily reminiscent of training future soldiers. This structured 'game' basically was to have all the kids stand in one line taking turns going through the monkey bars, down the slide, under some bars, and around a tree before running to the back of the line. "Hey, come over and play" was what one kid in line said to two approaching kindergarten kids who had finished their homework.
After the announcement from one of the program's organizer that the schedules were all messed up, and she had to re-do them, I was to take the kids back to the cafeteria and create some sort of activity for them spur-of-the-moment. I decided to have the five of them play an addition and subtraction math game; sounds feasible for first graders right? But before that, I allowed them to get some water at the working water fountain--which one kid inadvertently took his time drinking what seemed like a gallon while getting his t-shirt soaked; later I incorrectly called this kid 'she' instead of 'he' since I assumed the kid was a girl from his haircut and voice which could have been either male or female. Anyway, the math game didn't go too well with many of the kids just guessing and with two refusing to participate. I ended up giving each of the ones who tried a colorful fish sticker. The rest of the time I spent trying to keep the kids under control, and playing a word matching board game that was perhaps a bit too complicated for first graders.
Tomorrow is going to be my second day at the job; I think I am supposed to just help some children with their unfinished homework in the library unless something comes up. Maybe later on, I will ask if I can teach the children some songs and perhaps some sort of activity where they can be creative.
My first day was perhaps a bit unorganized as most first days are--bureaucracy, new streets, and overactive children among the few. Driving down 2818 and then onto TX-6 with roadkill ranging from dog to cow on the side of the road every so often, I found myself in an underdeveloped small blue-collar town where the only recognizable commercial landmarks among run-down local businesses and typical neighborhoods with repainted homes and green lawns were a McDonald's, Pizza Hut, Exxon, and First National Bank of Texas. After filling out the paperwork necessary to start the job, I was off over a 'bridge' where I eventually located Eastside Elementary. Finding parking under a tree near an unpaved driveway which served as the school bus loading and parent vehicle waiting area, I ventured into the open-air corridors past lines of predominantly minority children lead by mostly female teachers at the school day's end.
Asking around, I eventually found the office, and after the confusion was sorted out, I headed over to the small cafeteria with no stage where children participating in the after-school program were seated at long cafeteria tables which had been re-painted over many times with coats of white paint. Most, if not all of the kids looked over in my direction and exchanged fascinated whispers about my appearance (I was perhaps a little overdressed with dress-shirt, jeans, a blazer and my mo-hawk hairstyle) as I asked some of my co-workers what it was exactly I was supposed to be doing.
After their afternoon snack, the kids were herded over to the play ground in lines to enjoy recess--I have never seen anyone as excited as this bunch about getting into line. Walking past a non-working water fountain and the outdoor hallways in dire need of aesthetic if not functional repair, I found a spot on the pavement with my co-workers observing the children at first before joining in their football toss game--sadly, the football was of the crumbly soft Nerf variety well past its prime, and unfortunately the receptive children did not pass the ball among themselves, but instead all faced towards the direction of two of my co-workers to have the ball eagerly thrown to them. Feeling that a new game was in order, I went into the equipment room after being informed that a set of soccer balls would not be in until the next week--what I found was a bag of mostly deflated and worn down basketballs and volleyballs. I opted for a few volleyballs, and brought them out to the kids. However, the same kick the ball back to the adults and not just among the kids continued despite the new game.
After recess and back in the cafeteria, I learned that I would be substituting for one of the absent tutors that usually led the purple group. After doing attendance, and still not fully sure of what the misleading schedule meant, I went around checking on the homework of two of the children, while encouraging three others to freely draw whatever it is that came to their minds---in this case, it was jack-o-lanterns. Following the schedule, I took the kids over to the gym room--a small 15x25 enclosure with two colorful kid-friendly carpets on the floor. Not knowing what the kids usually played in this environment, I let them decide, and after five minutes or so, they finally agreed on a game of 'race'--a two-team relay race around a color cone. This game lasted for about ten minutes, give or take, before another co-worker entered the room to announce that P.E. meant recess time on the playground. So off to the playground we went, where two other co-workers stood already waiting to have the kids play a game of obstacle course--something eerily reminiscent of training future soldiers. This structured 'game' basically was to have all the kids stand in one line taking turns going through the monkey bars, down the slide, under some bars, and around a tree before running to the back of the line. "Hey, come over and play" was what one kid in line said to two approaching kindergarten kids who had finished their homework.
After the announcement from one of the program's organizer that the schedules were all messed up, and she had to re-do them, I was to take the kids back to the cafeteria and create some sort of activity for them spur-of-the-moment. I decided to have the five of them play an addition and subtraction math game; sounds feasible for first graders right? But before that, I allowed them to get some water at the working water fountain--which one kid inadvertently took his time drinking what seemed like a gallon while getting his t-shirt soaked; later I incorrectly called this kid 'she' instead of 'he' since I assumed the kid was a girl from his haircut and voice which could have been either male or female. Anyway, the math game didn't go too well with many of the kids just guessing and with two refusing to participate. I ended up giving each of the ones who tried a colorful fish sticker. The rest of the time I spent trying to keep the kids under control, and playing a word matching board game that was perhaps a bit too complicated for first graders.
Tomorrow is going to be my second day at the job; I think I am supposed to just help some children with their unfinished homework in the library unless something comes up. Maybe later on, I will ask if I can teach the children some songs and perhaps some sort of activity where they can be creative.
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