I love apples

Previously, I posted my thoughts regarding teacher crap with apples on it. I might have gone as far as to say that I hated apples. Well, a student gave me two bags of apples as a gift. And it turned out okay.

I sat in front of a movie yesterday skinning and chopping all of the apples for homemade applesauce. I've never made it before. The recipe is simple (this is for a large Crockpot):

1. Peel and core apples
2. Slice them into thin slices
3. When the Crockpot is half full, sprinkle a teaspoon of cinnamon across the top.
4. Finish peeling, coring, and slicing.
5. When the Crockpot is completely full, sprinkle another teaspoon of cinnamon over the top.
6. Dump in a cup of honey
7. Dump in a 1/2 cup of water
8. Cook on low for the night

I grew up watching Monday Night Football with my dad. In the colder months, he would sit and make applesauce. I don't remember him making it at any other time. It's possible, but I only remember the football games. Like I said before, this was my first time trying to make applesauce. It smells good. But I don't know if I did it right. It tastes all right (or so says mom on the way to the airport at 4:30 this morning), and it's kind of hard to mess up Crockpot recipes. So who cares? I cooked something.

But more importantly, it's a fun memory of my dad on another Christmas without him. My life has been quite a bit like Crockpot applesauce, not knowing what I'm doing at times but trying my hardest to follow my dad's recipe. Sometimes it feels like I'm wandering through this life, shooting goals and hopes and dreams into a dreary, foggy landscape. It would be nice to at least ask my dad which way to aim. But it's not in the bag of apples I've been given. And it doesn't matter whether or not I like it. It just is.

I look forward to breakfast this morning, fresh dutch babies and hot applesauce. It will turn out alright, Christmas, applesauce, and life...thanks to God's provisions. So here's to memories, gifts, and traditions. Merry Christmas everybody.

Christmas Cheer

I hate Christmas shopping. There's really nothing good about it. I have to spend money I don't have to buy things people don't need from a store who's employees don't care.

No wonder my mother-in-law scrooged me. (You know the I've been elfed thing? Yeah...not me)

And as a teacher, why shouldn't I be scroogey? For what ever reasons, teachers are seen as these great public servants making great sacrifices for our future; that is until one's child isn't an A student or receives a zero on an assignment or makes a simple mistake entering grades into the computer, and then the teacher becomes some lower-class filth not worthy of respect. Irony at its greatest. Bah humbug.

Get over yourself Jacobson. I realized last night that school is out, so I shouldn't (and in all truth, don't) care about conflicts happening regarding my classroom. It's not about what I spend or what I buy. The fact is, my wife feels valued and loved when she knows that I'm going out of my way to buy something special for her (with a cheerful attitude I might add). I praised God when I was in and out of the store in less than an hour on a Saturday afternoon before Christmas. And now, I'm actually excited for Christmas. I don't care what I'm getting, it's probably coal anyways.

And I think that's what people miss out on--I know I have for the past couple of years. I've been so busy that I stumble on Christmas in a haze. And amidst all the busy-ness, I've lost out on the idea of gifts. God gave us his son as a gift. Christ gives his grace. The holy spirit grants spiritual gifts. I don't want to offer church cheese balls here, but there's something to be said about celebrating the giving of gifts.

God has given me a beautiful wife and a loving family, a warm house, a sweet-up dog, a fulfilling job, a spot in grad school, a heart for people and relationships, a love of literature and examining the human experience, and countless other things. But most importantly, He has given us incredible friendships that draw us closer to him.

And I haven't even opened presents yet. How cool is that?

Last Teacher Comic Standing

Here's the video of the Last Teacher Comic Standing at D'Evelyn's 2007 homecoming. I hope you enjoy it. The students did--I won. Thanks to Eric Berlinberg for the film work, editing, and production.

Freedom Writers: Saving the World at What Cost?

I love vacations from school. Not because I hate school, but I like change. Vacation is change, rest, and time to watch movies. So this past weekend Sarah and I watched Freedom Writers, a movie starring Hillary Swank as a High School English Teacher in LA shortly after the Rodney King incident. The acting wasn't so hot, but the story was inspiring...at least a little. The movie is based off of a true story, and it was heart breaking hearing kids talk about their parents getting beat up, neighbors shot, and friends killed. As Swank's character gets more and more wrapped up in her new teaching career, her husband grows more and more distant. Eventually he leaves her and they divorce. That's how her personal life is resolved.

My wife and I spent a good amount of time talking about the divorce bit. Teaching is taxing on a family. I love going to see students perform. Whether its sports, stage, or music I like to invest in students outside of the classroom. They come (some trudge, grumble, and even fart) to my class everyday. The least I can do is go to some events. But it takes coordinating. Our schedule is busy enough without throwing in High School activities, but it's an important element of teaching. Sarah and I have had to work through this. She's learning that attending some of these function can be fun, and I'm learning to tell my students (from time to time) that I'm not going to such and such a function because I'm spending time with my wife. As much as kids need teacher support at events, I think they also need to hear from me that my family is a priority. To say the least, it's like juggling firecrackers.

And this is where the movie went wrong. The husband (I forget the actor's name--Patrick Dempsey maybe???, but Sarah thinks he's dreamy--gag) never clearly communicated his needs. Swank was oblivious to her re-prioritized life, clueless to the fact that every new job she picked up further alienated her husband. It came to the point where she was telling her hubby (non-verbally) that her students, who had nothing, were more important than him. What a tough line to draw. I know because I've done the same thing.

Fortunately, I married a fantastic woman that's willing to tough it out and communicate, because regardless of how effective I am as a teacher, there's always graduation and moving on. When my students get into the real world, they may or may not ever think of me again, much less maintain any form of communication. I have to be okay with that. But where would I be without my wife when that time comes? Sure more students come along, but then there's a vicious cycle of never really getting anywhere or never developing deeper-level relationships. And that's a shame. Thanks Hollywood for giving us the story of an inspiring teacher. I hope to do better.

The Farmer, The Emo, and The Transcendentalist

Contemplating the deeper issues of life over the Thanksgiving holiday, a thought occurred to me: Who ever dreamed up that apples were the perfect gift for teachers? The top five results of a "gifts for teachers" search on Google (my results here):
1. www.artisticlabels.com (3 of the 7 gifts have apples, and one a school bus)
2. www.successories.com (good inspirational gifts, but nothing specifically for teachers)
3. www.homeroomdirect.com (2/6 have apples, one school bus, and nothing for men)
4. familyfun.go.com (no apples, no gifts, just school outside of school)
5. lovetoteach.com (3/6 have apples, one book, a bell, and a Santa)

Having taught elementary school, I grew quite accustomed to receiving mugs, ornaments, magnets, desk decorators, and other various "teacher" goodies with some sort of apple on them. One year I even got a bronze apple bell with a red ribbon tied around the stem. I still have it in a box somewhere.

The point here is not people's generosity. I am thankful for those who go out of their way to say thanks to their teacher (more the case with younger kids, older kids hate their teachers, or at least tell them that on a regular basis). I can't blame the generous in spirit. They are nice and caring. What I'd like to complain about is whoever decided teachers liked everything about apples, pencils, school buses, carrying bags (see this post), and alphabets. I hate school buses--they're the place where kids melt the seats (with fire or farts), yell and scream, throw paper, light firecrackers, put condoms on their heads, beat up little kids, tell dirty jokes, etc. If this doesn't happen regularly, then I happened to ride the bus from Hell everyday from 5th grade to 9th. This is not a happy environment for teachers. The pictures of school buses on teacher gifts show a group of happy, playful children showing extreme bliss for an educational experience. Yeah right.

My biggest beef is with the apples. I like apples. An apple a day keeps the doctor away. I like doctors less than apples so this is a good adage. Some kid somewhere took an apple to a teacher and it became status quo. Here's some possibilities on how it all went down:

The Farmer
Little Johnny Appleseed lived on his family's apple farm. The farm sold just enough apples to get by. When Christmas rolled around, Johnny wanted to show his teacher that he was thankful for her. He didn't have any money to buy a gift, so he decided to give her an apple. It would cost the family twenty-five cents of income, but it was worth it. Johnny picked out the biggest, shiniest apple and took it to school. When he gave the apple to the teacher, she thanked Johnny and ate it in front of the whole class. Johnny was proud of his gift and was richly rewarded for his generosity.
(Typical teacher story)

The Emo
Little Johnny was angry. He wore all black, grew his hair over his eyes, listened to angry music, and glared at people. He hated his English teacher. You see, Mr. English taught such classes as Greek mythology and the Bible as Literature. Emo Johnny loved the mythology. He especially liked the story of the goddess (he can't remember her name because he's so soaked in anger) who threw a golden apple into the middle of a wedding ceremony. The ladies wanted the apple and began fighting over it, the wedding taking a back seat. Johnny liked the goddess of discord and her golden apple. Johnny also liked the role of the apple in the Bible. A man and woman (again, forgetting the names) are put in a garden and told not eat from a tree. A serpent slides along and tells Woman she'll be cool if she eats the fruit. She does. Then she gives one to Man. They both doom mankind to hell and damnation. Johnny is ecstatic. He runs home, steals the last apple out of his step-mother's fruit bowl, and takes it to school the next day. He smiles as he hands the apple to Mr. English. The teacher, surprised by little emo, thanks Johnny and eats the apple in front of the whole class. The problem is Mr. English didn't know what the smile on Johnny's face meant. Johnny smiled, hoping that the apple would cause Mr. English's life to fall apart, damning his soul and his entire family to hell!

The Transcendentalist
Little Johnny loved nature. He ditched school regularly to take nature walks. He decided that he didn't need teachers anymore and tried to think of a way to tell his own school teacher that. So he brought the teacher an apple. The teacher was so pleased he ate the apple in front of the whole class. Johnny could only think of the apple's place in nature, so he left and the teacher never saw him again.

Okay, so neither of these are likely the origin of the apple pandemic. Why didn't that kid way back when give his teacher a book? It was probably due to money issues and availability. But this tradition of apples has got to change. Every teacher worth his/her weight in gold (apples) wants to learn more. One of the best ways to learn is to read books, the gift that keeps on giving. Books are useful. Books don't rot unless you have a mold problem. A hundred years from now, a book may be fragile but still exist. An apple? Smelly for awhile but nothing more than dust. Maybe I'm partial to books because I'm an English teacher, but I know a lot of teachers and professors in different subjects that love books.

The irony of posting a blog like this during the holiday season is astounding. But asking for gifts is not my point. And for those students who see me daily, it's not funny to have everybody bring me an apple. I will put them in a box until they rot and then mail them to you. Happy Thanksgiving.

Tug of War

When Thoreau wrote "Simplify, simplify, simplify," there was no Internet, myspace, mobile technology, cars, computers, ipods, McDonalds, Coke, movies, Youtube, instant messaging, or blogs. He wanted only the bare necessities in a lifestyle that was fresh, original, and outside the herd of greater society. Great idea--don't get caught up in American consumerist way of life. But is that possible?

My wife and I try to live simply. We have a house, a dog, two cars, computers, a network, friends (surprisingly), mp3 players, Dunkin' Donuts coffee, hardwood floors, and cell phones. I suppose these are necessities in this day and age. We don't buy everything we want (most of the time) and Sarah does a good job of purging things we don't need anymore. But the simple life isn't just about possessions. It's also about scheduling, relationships, and careers. Expectations and commitments lead to full schedules and a calendar that is impossible to keep up with. But what gives? We love building relationships with people, we love investing in those around is, we love spending time together.

But culture tells us we're not doing enough. It seems that we always have to be in motion, connecting with someone somewhere somehow. It's as if we need to move the speed of life to get everything done. And I'm not sure that's healthy. There's a fine line between investing in people, serving the community, and running yourself into the ground.

But I don't have any answers. I don't know how to get my grading done, classes prepped, homework finished, volunteering accomplished, wife loved, God served, rest.

Any maybe the biggest issue is my priority list above. That seems to be how everything is organized. Thoreau and Emerson and all the other Transcendentalists missed out on something: looking beyond their own selves. When I look at what I need to accomplish, it gets jacked up. When all is said and done, I'll be dead. I don't mean this morbidly, but really, when I'm done I'm done. And what then? Will it matter that it took me two months to grade a class set of essays, or that I invested more time in my job than my wife? Will it matter that I have a masters degree?

Obviously, something has to give and thus the tug of war. There is only so much time. I guess I'd better start using it more efficiently.

Another new blog

Obviously I'm circularizing here. A few years ago, I had a blog here on blogspot. Then I moved my blog to my printing website TFW Press, because I wanted all of my projects/blogs/ideas in one place. Then I said to myself, "This is a business, so I should only have business things here." That's when I created my myspace page, and continued blogging there. It's a cool way to communicate with people and share my vast knowledge and understanding of the world...or the lack thereof.

There's a problem with myspace thought. Only account holder can post comments, and I know more people read my blog than just myspace people. But I can never hear from them unless they go out of their way to email me. What a hassle right? So I went over to facebook to see if they had any good blogging tools. Nope. Plus, you can't view anything unless you're a member.

So here I am sharing my thoughts with the world in a context that anybody can respond to. Here goes.