A rock and hard place

How has it bee 10 days since I've written in this? Shame on me.

In truth, it feels like 10 years. There is something about this place that packs 3 weeks worth of time into each hour, and somehow I feel like I've spent my entire life here. For a town that has a reputation for taking it slow and easy, I sure feel like things are moving a mile a minute, or perhaps that's just how I operate. Working in an inner city New Orleans school has really sped up the time as well. I feel like I'm learning a thousand things every day I'm with these kids. It makes my brain buzz to think about my position with these kids, both socially and personally, and how I need to connect my ideals and politics with my pedagogy. I find it entirely problematic that I, the only white person in the room, stand above these black children asserting power and control. Everyone told me to be a hardass with them at first. It seemed like that would be the only way to handle these raucous 6 year olds, because they just would not respect me. Their regular teacher had to come in and lay the smack down on them. She found out two of my students were crawling on the floor so she made them crawl on the floor for 15 minutes in from of everyone. I found this to be cruel and slightly crazy, but couldnt really do a damn thing about it. So, for myself, instead of implementing corporal punishment, I decided to make a fun discipline chart with red, yellow and green cards with faces next to their names. I implemented reward as well as punishment, and decided to be a hardass about my consistency and expectations. I had one girl throw herself on the floor and throw a tantrum because I gave her a red card. I had to remove her from my class because we couldn't get a damn thing done with her carrying on. However, most of the time now I can get the kids to behave with a calm, friendly, loving attitude. Today I told them how amazing they are and asked them to make Valentines for themselves. They know how much I like them, so they want to behave and impress me. It is mutual respect. Duh, Ms. Thompson.

Yet, one of my students tore up the Valentine she made for me because I gave her a red card. Sorry Ebony, making me a Valentine isn't going to make it ok for you to hit kids.

For the first time, I am feeling like a real adult. I have a 'real' job, I live alone, and have become a bit more of a homebody. Tonight my best friend needed my support and I felt in a position to not only listen and support, but to give sound, wise advice. I have to appreciate that all the crazy shit I've been through has give me an arsenal of knowledge that I can't discount . I hugged her and started crying because I could feel how much hurt she felt. I wish everyone could feel emotions through skin. It really makes it easier to feel close to people.