The World Spins Madly On.

“Night is here, the day is gone, and the world spins madly on…”

There are many times throughout the week, day, hour even, where I feel like this. City Year kind of has that affect on a person. It is my nature that I become extremely obsessed with one thing, and will not stop focusing on that one thing until I am just so sick of it that I never want to look at it again. This, unfortunately, is how I have been with some students. Until now.
Again, like so many other things in my life, come back to skating and the lessons I learned from it (another reason why sports are so important in a child’s development – they teach the child lessons they will not forget for the rest of his or her life). A person only has so much energy s/he can expend over a given time. For skating, that given time might be a senior long program, or 4:30 min. If a skater expends all of her energy in that first step sequence, she has nothing left to give for the remaining 3 minutes, where a lift, a NHSS, and a bunch more elements occur. With City Year, if a corps member expends all of his/her energy in the first three months of service, the months of January through May are going to feel MIGHTY long. The days making up those months are going to feel even longer. Pacing oneself is as important in skating as it is in City Year.
I think back especially to my junior year of college, when I had the most trouble with skating because of being on senior, having a ton of asthma issues, etc., and I think how I can relate it to my city year. You have to practice like you perform. You have to put forth 100% effort 90% of the time. While this is not ideal obviously, we are all only human, and just as our Dean of City Year, Charlie Rose, said, “You have 135 days of service left this year. Give me 130 great ones.”

It’s awkward to interrupt your own thought process, but a song just came on my iTunes as I was writing that I just HAD to put down. It’s a group of lyrics from “The Cave” by Mumford & Sons, and I think it’s a silent pledge I’m going to take for the rest of the year. It’s a pledge I’m going to make to my students.

“I will hold on hope, and
I won’t let you choke on the noose around your neck
I’ll find strength in pain, and
I will change my ways
I’ll know my name as it’s called again”

Mathapalooza!

“…No matter gay, straight, or bi, lesbian, transgendered life, I’m on the right track, baby, I was born this way…” Lady GaGa’s anthem to individuality, also known as “Born This Way”, streamed through my semi-broken headphones as I hurtled through space from New York’s LaGuardia to Milwaukee’s General Mitchell airport. This weekend seemed like a blur. And it was a long weekend too. How did that happen?
Thursday was a whirlwind in and of itself – all of HLCS’s team was running around getting things set up for Mathapalooza, the inaugural math event at our school. There were balloons everywhere, string tangled around desks, streamers creatively hung from banisters, and plenty of sweating and stressing, but the event all came together in time. Unfortunately, I had a plane to catch, so I could only stay through the set up, but from what I understand, the school and CY MKE’s staff were very impressed with Mathapalooza and our team overall.
This is a huge step for our team I think, because we definitely came in as the underdog team. We’re the only team serving at a brand new partner school, so we’re facing frustrations the other teams aren’t in terms of getting teachers/admin to understand our role in MPS. Our school has been a SIFI (School Identified For Improvement) for at least 5 years. Mathapalooza, however, engaged over 100 students and parents, in addition to several teachers and school staff. Our principal couldn’t say enough good things – one of them being that any time we wanted to hold an event at HLCS, we had the green light, and that Mathapalooza was exactly the kind of event he imagined for his school.

City Year, what time is it?!

Another Friday. In City Year Milwaukee, that means another Unity Rally down at the Sunburst sculpture, another day full of trainings (today's happens to be about how to effectively tutor math), the sharing of crazy stories from school teams, and more. For me today, and probably for the next 40 or so Unity Rallies we have, I will be thinking of my middle school boys. During after-school on Wednesdays we run a program at our school called Weekend Wednesday. This is a little more active than the other clubs we run, but we still try to incorporate an academic/CY focus. This Wednesday, we ran our own version of the Amazing Race. The students were divided into teams and had to follow 4-5 clues around the school to figure out who their CM was. At each station they had to do a task before they could get their clue, or in the case of the last clue, have free time in the gym. I was racing around with 5 middle school boys, and their last task was to perform four sets of CY Power Lunges. This is a PT move we do as a corps at Unity Rallies sometimes, and it's a fun call & response/step. Teaching it to these boys and watching them perform it and get really into it is something I'll never forget. They were watching me so intently, making sure they didn't miss a beat. With huge grins on their faces the entire time they were learning, I had them do an extra set just to test them, and it was awesome. It's always a great feeling when you're able to impart wisdom and know they understand what you're teaching them, but having them be excited about it just takes it to a whole other level. I'm starting to think I need these students just as much as they need City Year.

"What do you say to 50 bucks?" "I say, '50 bucks? You are more than I have.'"

Man. I remember being frustrated with CY people who didn't update their blogs frequently last year, but now I completely understand why. The days are long, the kids are exhausting. And that's only Monday through Thursday. Fridays are always kind of unpredictable, which is nice. I find myself telling my students that Thursdays are the new Fridays, and since Wednesdays are "Weekend Wednesdays" in after-school, technically the week only consists of Monday and Tuesday.

I suppose I should speak about my students a little. I currently have 5 "focus list" students, or students that I pull out for 1-on-1 or small group tutoring in E.L.A. Lucky for me, though, this will all change next week. Because of a lovely little thing called "Third Friday" in urban teaching circles, our school has had its budget slashed, resulting in the layoff of at least 5 teachers. My teacher is one of them. This, conveniently, disrupts the whole middle school rotation, because he teaches science for all 6-8 graders. That's the way my middle school works, by the way. There are four teachers for mainstream classes. They all have their own homeroom in the morning - two 6th grade classes, one 7th and one 8th. After homeroom, they teach an hour and a half reading block to their homeroom students. Then, they follow a block rotation throughout the day, and teach their specialty area to all the grades. However, because my teacher is leaving, the school has to fill the position from within the school. For my class, this means a 3rd grade teacher is coming up. She's only certified to teach through 6th grade, however, so the social studies/7th grade homeroom teacher now has to teach both social studies and science, and my class will move from a block rotation to a self-contained classroom. One teacher, one room, one class of 6th graders. All day.

"Oh, pilot, can you help me? Can you make this last?"

I have survived Month 1 of being a Milwaukean! It's been such a crazy couple of weeks, full of learning, meeting and greeting, laughing, sharing, crying, listening, Unity Rally-ing, hugging, venting, and questioning. It's been exhausting, but it's been awesome. I am proudly serving as a CY Corps Member at Hopkins Lloyd, and I FINALLY got to meet my kids yesterday. We got off to a rough start due to some technical difficulties, but by the end of the day things were much better, and I didn't want to say goodbye!

Today we had our second official Unity Rally down by the Calatrava and the Sunburst sculpture, and then a day at the office full of training and a guest speaker. I was skeptical about the speaker until I saw who he was - State Rep. Jason Fields. During his session, I found myself getting more and more inspired about what CY is doing. There were several times I wanted to either jump for joy or just run up and hug him. I, of course, did none of these things, but just sat back in awe. He talked about his dream of making Milwaukee an international hub. He talked about honor being the most important virtue someone our age could have.

On Being a W.A.S.A. (White Anglo-Saxon Atheist) in Yonkers, NY

I am a chameleon. Not in the sense that I can change my skin color or make my eyes move independently of one another, but in the sense that I feel I can blend in anywhere. Of course, this is aided by the fact that it is becoming less and less weird to run into people who are living in Milwaukee now, but went to school in Texas and were born in Brazil have Swedish girlfriends (for example). I am nowhere near this diverse; born in the Bronx, raised in Yonkers, went to school in Ohio, and now live in Milwaukee. I guess I technically lived in Italy for two months somewhere in there, but I don’t really count that. This background would technically make me a transplanted but native New Yorker, which I felt described me perfectly until I came home to New York after four years of university in southwestern Ohio. I lived on the Lower East Side in Manhattan for a month after graduation, subletting a friend’s apartment for a measly $1100, and seemed to immediately fall back into step with the artfully chaotic lifestyle of the city. I moved back to Yonkers after that, and it was not until I went to visit my university that I realized how quickly I could change. I could be a huffy, hurried, seemingly anti-social young professional on the subway in New York, saying things like “cawfee” (coffee) and “hahrable” (horrible) one minute, and the minute I started talking to my friends in Ohio, I was laid back, open to making small talk with strangers (that would’ve gotten you killed in NY), and speaking like a true Midwesterner. How did I master this?
I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because my parents moved around so much when they were growing up, and I sort of did the same (although I don’t remember it, and we never really moved as much as my parents carted me around to their various biological conferences). My mother, born in College Station, Texas, moved to San Francisco when she was 4. My father was born in Perry, Iowa, and moved to Riverside, California just before his seventh birthday. They both moved to Amherst, Massachusetts when they were in their mid twenties for graduate school, and remained there for awhile – my mom moving to the Bronx first and my dad following a few years later. I think it’s the nature of not living and settling down in the same place where you grew up that makes you look at the new place’s culture from a third-person-omniscient-esque perspective. My mom and I have often had conversations about the differences between New Yorkers and San Franciscans, or New Yorkers and anyone else, basically. New Yorkers, or more specifically, people from Yonkers, are either Catholic, Jewish, or Black (meaning they’re either Baptist or Methodist). We were constantly the only atheists on the block, which was hard to explain as an 8 or 9 year old to people who only knew the “Yonkers trichotomy”. A perfect example of this is a situation that occurred at my mom’s gym. I was probably in 3rd grade, and I would go to the gym and sit and do my homework while she did an exercise class. In her class was a mom of one of my classmates, and one day after the class, we all happen to be walking toward our cars together. My classmate’s mom asked, “So, Barbara! You must be excited about Mary making her First Communion!” My mom, never missing a beat, just smiled and said, “Oh, we would be, but we’re not Catholic.” It just so happened that we both reached our cars, so we were saved from an awkward moment and just said our goodbyes. After we got in the car, my mom laughed a little and said, “Wow. She probably thinks we’re Jewish.” As an 8 year old I couldn’t understand why the obvious alternative to being white and not Catholic in Yonkers was being white and Jewish, but sure enough, my classmate’s mom started asking my mom questions that hinted at our supposed Judaism. Moses probably rolled over in his grave.
In addition to the recognition of said trichotomy, there was another incident that led my parents to refer to all Yonkers Italians as the “Nostaglias”. This came from a typographical error on a flyer from my youth sports club for a pasta dinner one weekend. The flyer urged, “Come join the Nostaglia!” (in addition to having spelled “nostalgia” incorrectly, it also seems to be a common Yonkers error to capitalize words not because they are proper nouns, but for emphasis.) For those of you who may not know, -aglia is a common Italian last name suffix, pronounced in Italian like –alya, pronounced in Yonkers like –aglia. My parents just thought this typo was absolutely hilarious, and came to refer to any Yonkers Italian-American resident who spoke with a loud, New York accent, greeted everyone with two kisses on the cheek, and most likely had dyed hair and fake nails as a “Nostaglia”. Stereotypical? Certainly. But you’d be surprised how many fell into this category.
Furthermore, I was actually convinced up until 10th grade that everyone in Yonkers who was white was Italian, Irish, Polish or Jewish (of Eastern European descent). My sophomore year of high school I met my best friend, Micole Baclija. Of Lebanese and Croatian heritage, I felt a kinship with her on the sole basis that she was NOT Italian and neither was I. Our two other best friends, Liz Van Buren and Amanda Sayegh, were half-Jewish and Arabic respectively, which I found extremely humorous. It seemed as though we represented the B-side of Yonkers.

Milwaukee Blog #1

My third day in Milwaukee has barely started yet, and already I feel like I have done so much. I’m still waiting on my mom to bring up the rest of my luggage, my dresser, and my mini file cabinet, and then I have five boxes that should be here tomorrow as well. But I love my apartment – SO much more room than I had last year, and windows to boot! My roommates, Nancy and Meiyan, and I are getting along really well thus far; it’s helped that we’ve been chatting back and forth all summer. We all have similar interests and outlooks on life, which I love.
Our apartment is on the outskirts of Marquette University, and owned by realty group that seems to employ only Russians. Which, don’t get me wrong, is totally awesome – our landlord, Gary, is a Russian silver fox with an awesome accent. We’re right off a main street, too, so there are a handful of bars, restaurants and shopping within walking distance. We stopped by an Irish pub called Murphy’s last night, got a pitcher of draft Strongbow, and chatted about life, and ended up getting serenaded by a group of drunk college boys. They sang, “All I Have To Give” by the Backstreet Boys – all around a good first night in Milwaukee ☺.