looking over at what i had written yesterday, and having told the story again to my urban education teacher and feeling a few tears coming to my eyes, and real worry beat my forehead, i'd like to comment a bit further on this whole subject.
as i spoke to my urban education teacher about this today, i started to choke up a bit. i really won't relate to them like that, ever, i told her. no, she said, you will in some way. but you're noticing the differences; and i can see it on your face.
my face: furrowed, heavy, sudden, unhappy.
i don't feel great about this; it worries me a lot that, makes me wonder if i will relate to them at all about certain things. it felt like loss, i wrote last night. that's a very abstract thing, loss. but you know how it feels, don't you? how your chest feels punched, not by a fist, but by the bottom end of a metal bucket; and gutless, not in the sense that you're a chicken or scared, just gutless. you feel not so great. for moment, my head sunk down into this, and then i was out of it. i'm over-blowing it, perhaps, but it certainly felt like a sinking moment.
i'm trying to think how i can develop relationships with these kids. maybe i'm a little too eager. one step at a time, after all. next week i have to plan something about the children's rights packet they've been reading for the past two weeks or so. it's a craft project, but i want to make it interesting and personalized. why should they want to do this, is really the question that i want to ask myself when i plan this lesson? what the hell is so special about this, or maybe: how can i make this special enough that they'll be interested in it.
tomorrow i study for the MTEL, the teacher's exam. saturday, i take it. let's hope i can define what a participle is!