Saturday...Adios Texas!

We'll miss the mountains, and some of the foliage:





But we will not miss the wind, the heat, and the dirt:





If all has gone according to plan this week, today is the day we begin our drive OUT of El Paso, Texas, toward our new home in Kansas.

Gracias Marty:

Music Memories

As you're reading, I'm probably wrangling the toddler out of the movers' way, or making lunch for the crew, or trying to coax Anni the Cat out of her hidey hole so that the movers can empty the furniture from the next room. Thanks to postdating my blog entries this week, I've been able to supervise the wrapping of my dishes, glasses, and other breakables while *you* get to decide whether or not to indulge in some of my awesome music memories from the Bordertown. The memories aren't from this year, they're from my childhood, 1970-1980. If the tunes get stuck in your head for the rest of the day, blame my mother... I do!

(Enjoy the fashion!)

Diana Ross and the Supremes, Where Did Our Love Go



Tommy James, Crimson and Clover



ABBA, Dancing Queen



Seals and Crofts, Summer Breeze



Mom let me listen to the good stuff!

Not in the Forecast

...but welcome just the same! Rain- that wonderful stuff that helps the grass and flowers grow- is appreciated here this weekend. Not for the foliage though- for the DIRT. Steady rain keeps the sand, grit, and dust out of our eyes when the wind picks up, and friends, the wind blows hard enough here to make the desert dirt an incredibly painful exfoliant!









This weather makes for a great BAKING day!

Cookies and pecan nummies for friends and neighbors:







...with some quick crochet while each batch bakes in the oven:



The squares will be for a new afghan, while the scarf was made with left over baby yarn...I was trying out a new design, one that leaves an opening in the scarf to pull the tail through after you've wrapped it around your neck a few times...I like the design. I don't like the scarf in this baby yarn. Winter time will probably see me making more with some softer, prettier yarn.



Cookies are done! Now to make oatmeal raisin!

Ruby Red...Sneakers?

My feet are *so* ready to return to Oz!



The rest of me is too, but for now, these spangly ruby red sneakers will just have to do their part in keeping my mood upbeat as my family and I endure this latest round of power packing, marathon driving, and bidding one state goodbye (er, "adios") and another hello.



As for the sparkly shoes, head to Walmart~ they're nine dollars!

Unfortunately, their heels don't click...



*****

My truck is at a collision repair shop here in the Bordertown. They've *promised* it can be repaired, good as new, by next Thursday. I'm keeping my fingers crossed since we're supposed to drive out two days later! Until then, I'm getting used to driving my husband's truck (it's the one I'll be piloting back to Oz, pulling a small trailer) while he drives a rental car. May I just say THANK YOU GEICO? I think you're pretty terrific, even though your spokesgecko reminds me of a SleeStak:



*****

~Back to kid-friendly snacking, The Pioneer Woman Cooks Marguerites (Ritz crackers, peanut butter and marshmallows!). I'm a kid, right?

~Strawberry Shortcake from Tracy Porter

~Andrea doesn't know it but she crafted the perfect crown for ME...Fairy Tale Dress Up Day just won't be the same this year!

*****

It's time for me to start collecting all things Tasha Tudor~ she has always been my favorite featured artist in magazines such as Victoria, and one of my favorite childrens' book authors/ illustrators. She died two days ago at the age of 92:

Sometimes There's Just No Point in Dusting

...especially during the Bordertown's extended "windy season:"

No, that's not rain or a storm moving in. That's a wall of dirt. It took one minute to take the following photos. Then I ran inside because enduring a heavy duty exfoliation was NOT on my to-do list.

Pretty Mountains, Darn Lightposts

I'm Wondering

... why husbands and children don't close what they've opened. Closet doors, dresser drawers, kitchen cabinets...

... why as I get older, inconveniences come in threes: fungal nail infection, bronchitis, allergies... boom (gross), boom (cough/hack), boom (sneeze).

... which Master's Degree Program I should look into once we are finally relocated. Curriculum and Instruction (will I get to implement something non-scripted?), School Administration (not only no but heck no), Early Childhood Education, Child Psychology, or Advanced Glitter-and-Glue Applications?

... if there's anything better than a duckie blankie on a chilly morning during cartoon time? (Special thanks to Rissa!)





... which wreath to make next (Easter? Patriotic? Floral?)...

... how many parents of students in the Bordertown really read the school district's "report card" info, considering it's a document of 400+ pages. I certainly found Daughter's school info, and knew enough to shudder at what it did and *did not* report. I haven't heard any other parents asking things like "how, when the school's scores have dropped two to twenty percent in writing, math and science from 2005-2006, does this school earn a rating of 'academically acceptable'?"

...where all of these bunnies and eggs will go...

Tuesday

Something's coming over the mountains today:







I'm glad to have something idea-inspiring to read when the dust kicks up, wind starts howling, and tumbleweeds go whizzing past my windows:



Hearing so much about Somerset from the crafty bloggers I read each day made me take the fifteen-dollar-plunge at B&N this past weekend. Guess what? I'll be subscribing.

Talking with my husband last night, I introduced the idea that once our new duty station comes through and we have floorplans for our future housing, I'd like to figure out a way to have my own craft/sewing workstation, perhaps sharing a study with him. Ideally, I'd love to have my own space, free of children, toys, seasonal clothes in storage tubs, and frankly, my husband's stuff. Hunting gear, guns, military awards, and Harley logos are not what get my creative juices flowing...his support of testing gravity by letting all magazines, papers, catalogs, receipts, brochures, business cards, etc. live on the floor of his study is also a major obstacle to overcome before we could seriously share a space. I think I'm talking myself out of it here!

How do we share space in the rest of the house? I'm the boss, that's how. You see, my husband's job requires that we move regularly. MORE than regularly in fact. We've moved four times in the past five years, with another move coming up this summer. The kids and I don't get a say in where we move to, what jobs or friends we have to leave behind, nor how long we'll stay or how quickly we'll have to leave again. So the public parts of the house are decorated the way I want them to be with my husband and kids having their own spaces reflecting their personalities and tastes. Yes, I make sure my husband has his man-cave, and the garage is always his. But because we have no say in the move-us-cross-country-or-even-OUT-of-country decisions, I lay down the law when it comes to home decor, storage, and household chores. We may not get to choose where we're going to have to live, but I *will* have my family living in a clean, comfortable, soothing, and inviting home, dadgummit!

Once I get an idea of what kind of housing we'll be in, I need to figure out a way to effectively create my own space, keep other family members (and the required military/social visitors) from encroaching upon it, and scheduling time for myself to spend in it, seeing creative ideas come to fruition. Until then, I'll continue to explore, collect ideas and a few bits and bobs and inevitably, see what happens after this Bordertown's windy season.

*********************************************************************

Here are some blogs I've recently been enjoying:

Sally Jean: I love her charms- so sweet!

Cari Kraft's What Should We Make Today: Creative banners appeal to the teacher AND mom in me...

And if you need a good laugh or a "saucy" story, get your fix over at Bloggedy-Blog-Blog.

Don't forget our soldiers this Valentine's Day (or ever!)- An Army Wife's Life has posted links and ideas about cards and care packages for soldiers and veterans. Even if you miss Valentine's Day, remember it's never "too late" to show our soldiers how much you care- even plain ol' Tuesday is a holiday when an unexpected care package with goodies and treats or a "thinking about you" card or letter is received.

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Please vote. Before you do, please think. Think about something deeper and more relevant than gender or race. Thanks.

Have You Ever Lost a Day?

Feel free to check yesterday's blog for proof that *I* certainly have! Yes, yes, I appreciate your kindness- refraining from chucking a stuffed animal at me while yelling "Helloooo, McFly!" Sigh. It was a wonderful Monday, not Tuesday in fact. My brain did a time warp. The fact that I'd had a good day must have subconsciously registered to me that it couldn't have been Monday, because who has a good day on the first day of the week? Perhaps I just didn't have enough coffee.

Today is Tuesday. And I know why I'm "off" this morning. The toddler was up at 12:45 a.m. He was up at 2:15 a.m. Round three was at 3:05 a.m. Fittingly, round four was at 4:00 a.m. Daughter decided to sleep in because she *knew* Mom would come and wake her up. Didn't happen. Daughter woke ME up at 7:25 a.m. with "Mom! I missed the bus!" Who was asleep? Daddy and toddler. Thank goodness the coffee pot didn't die during the night. Cup of coffee number one was chugged on the way to school. It wasn't enough however to numb the effects of hearing the school's daily announcements over the intercom.

Imagine the dullest voice you've ever heard. Now imagine it droning on and on with a series of public-service-type announcements at 7:45 a.m., first class period of the day, at a junior high school. The counselor's statement ended with "Students, if you are being abused or neglected, know that there are people here at school who can help you. You can make an appointment with the school counselor to get help. Remember, you can have a good day, or not, the decision is yours." Followed by the principal with several announcements he thought sounded humorous (they weren't), concluding with "Teachers, please take this time to do a school uniform check in your classrooms. Make sure all students are wearing the school uniform appropriately. Check that undershirts are the required white color." Yadda yadda yadda yadda (in drone-tone). Ten minutes of mind-numbing "essentials" that frankly, made me wish I had some Kahlua in my coffee mug. Okay, a lot of Kahlua.

Who was walking in to the building as the morning announcements were wrapping up? Substitute teachers. Not kidding. Other tardy students walked by the office without signing in, and without stopping when teachers addressed them about their hoods, or shirttails hanging out. Wow, that dress code enforcement is really consistent, I tell you. Did I mention that in this very bi-lingual city, district, neighborhood, that the announcements were only made in English?

What worries me? In my mind, the dress code announcement/request by the principal (along with three other "reminders") could have easily been made via school email, at the last staff meeting, or in a morning bulletin (and so logically was only done over the loudspeakers as some sort of reminder/enforcement addressing students). Yes, the teacher in me wondered how much time was lost sitting through the babble. I also wondered how difficult it would be to get the kids on track and transitioned for classwork after getting their minds on (or off) track regarding their undershirts and possible personal states of abuse or neglect. I mostly wondered why any staff would choose to start each and every day in such a way. It was prison, not school. And the district wonders why students are disinterested, resentful, sneaky walking zombies.
When I was asked why my daughter was late, I replied that we had accidentally overslept (no, it's not a regular occurrence, in fact it threw me that it happened in the first place) to which the secretary replied rather abruptly, "well, it'll be an unexcused absence." The coffee kicked in. I replied with "that's fine, she is here, after all, and obviously instruction hasn't yet begun." Smile smile smile. It is apparently too much to ask that other adults with whom one interacts be polite. Positive. Happy even. While filling out the admit slip for my daughter, the secretary was asked by another staff member the location of a volunteer. The secretary replied "I told you, she's not coming in today until tomorrow."

Huh? Coffee. Need....more.....coffee.

I'm no Pollyanna, really. I'm sarcastic, and can be downright rude. But I know what kind of workplace I want to be a part of. I know what kind of feeling I want my children and students to have about school and their environment. I believe in the self-fulfilling prophecy. I believe in the Golden Rule. I believe we reap what we sow. And yes, I believe in standards, and trying to measure up to them. I behave accordingly, and do my best as a parent and a teacher privately and publicly, never perfect, but well-intentioned. My intentions are formed by experience, wants, likes, dislikes...information. Data. The general process tends to work for most people.

Perhaps not in the Bordertown. Instead of seeing this year as one full of "lost days," my family and I will do our best to put a positive spin on things (we've learned how "not" to be, after all), and will look forward to our next military move with anticipation.

Thank you for letting me vent! I'm off to get my 100th Blog Post Giveaway photographed so I can pretend this is Wednesday and get it posted for you to see- after the eye-strain I've put you through, you certainly deserve a treat!

Separation of Confusion and Bewilderment

This was in my daughter's backpack, discovered as she cleaned it out in preparation for her return to school this morning:




When I asked where the sheet had come from, she replied that multiple copies of it had been passed out during lunch at school before winter break. When I asked who had passed them out, she said "adults" at school. I then asked her if they were adults she recognized from school (teachers, custodians, administrators, volunteers, etc) or strangers visiting. She told me that they were adults she saw regularly, and thought they were teachers though none she has for any subjects this year.

I'm a bit confused, only because our own family life is very categorized. "School things" happen at school, "church things" happen at church. My daughter attends public school, and does NOT belong to any religious youth groups that happen to meet on campus after school hours. I haven't found religious practice required in any of the curriculum requirements and standards for her grade either. And what is with the "I am also going to pray for this myself: yes, no?" Guilt much?

Explanations? Ideas?

Merit Hiring

I was reading Science Goddess' "More Isn't Always Better" post this morning and her thoughts took me down the road of introspection regarding my lack of employment this year. Her assertion that merit pay for teachers wouldn't guarantee better teaching made my head nod vigorously in agreement, and made me wonder exactly what equation used for hiring here in "Mexico-North" is applied to new teacher applicants such as myself.

My info? College graduate, twelve years teaching experience, licensed/certified to teach in Alaska, New Mexico, Kansas, and even here, Texas. I have glowing letters of recommendation, an excellent résumé, and wonderfully gracious references. Resources? My own extensive childrens' library, professional library, math/science/literacy/art/music manipulatives, classroom decor, puppets, puzzles, blocks, audio/visual teaching aids, computers (yes, I provide my own computers for my students) and even sleeping mats. Like most teachers, money for play dough, paint, glitter, glue, dress up clothes, and every small yet necessary detail for kindergarten explorations (sunflower seeds, cotton balls, snacks) comes out of my own pocket. I'm also not burnt out on teaching and I actually *like* children, both very valuable commodities.

After submitting résumé after résumé to school districts and having several interviews for kindergarten and other primary grade classes, I've not been offered a job. My observations as the parent of a student have had me cringing, shaking my head, venting, and vowing to move away from here as soon as Uncle Sam lets us. At this point I'm a fan of "merit hiring," hiring someone who is the most qualified, who offers the most resources, and who has the most desirable background as vouched for by other education experts. I was, in fact, under the impression that hiring highly qualified teachers was a requirement mandated to school districts nationwide in our latest educational reform. But like everything else, "highly qualified" is interpreted very differently here.

Budget constraints rule the day, and the logic used in the Bordertown when trying to address the needs and requirements of NCLB (not that I agree with them) just doesn't fit. The community is at least eighty-percent Hispanic, which makes not hiring me because I don't speak Spanish an understandable decision. The need to communicate effectively with all students, build those bridges, and give the gift of multiple languages to students are all goals I respect and believe in. In not speaking Spanish, I am not the most highly qualified. Hiring a Spanish-speaking aide with whom I could team-teach isn't an option here like it is in New Mexico however, perhaps because you really can't get two for the price of one.

During one of my interviews, a principal asked if I had any questions for her, to which I replied "yes, how does your school utilize technology, and what resources are available to kindergarten students?" The response of the other teachers in the room was polite laughter, while the principal explained that none of the kindergarten classrooms in her school had computers yet, though they were waiting for some old ones to be donated by a military Academy class here on post (which my husband attends) this year. I then asked her if sharing learning centers amongst kindergarten classrooms would be possible since I had computers for student use that I'd be happy to share. "Oh no, that would be unfair, one teacher having computers and the others not. We don't even have computer standards for our pre-k or kindergarten classes yet, just guidelines." Totally missed my point and offer, but apparently the bottom line was that NO students would have computer time if all classrooms weren't equipped. It's all or nothing.

Several weeks after my last interview, I ran into one of the teachers who had been part of the interview committee at a fast-food restaurant. She remembered me and we did some chatting while waiting in line to order. She said she was sorry I hadn't been hired though I was qualified and I had "done so well" during my interview, and said her principal had hired another applicant because she "wouldn't cost as much." She also divulged that the person hired was certified through an alternate licensure program that required she only complete a year-and-a-half's worth of education courses and practicum experiences before being employable by any district here. Budget again. I'm wondering how much classroom money, if any, she was given to set up all of the learning centers necessary to provide appropriate educational experiences for her students. With her limited knowledge and experience with public education, would she even know to ask for funding? Perhaps "clueless" is desirable.

Hiring Spanish-speaking applicants with the least amount of experience (and possibly skill) and least amount of classroom resources doesn't seem to be the best plan of attack when it comes to addressing this town's interpretation of NCLB's biggest rules:

1) All students must pass.
and
2) All students must pass in English.

Students are hit with monthly barrages of TAKS "practice" tests which take away from learning anything OTHER than how to take the TAKS. They are allowed to take the test in their "native language" until high school, when TAKS must be passed in English by all students, regardless of ethnicity or language experience.

Huh?

Okay, so maybe it's *just me.* Either I'm grossly underqualified because I just don't see (nor understand) the big picture, or I'm grossly OVERqualified because I've noticed that there isn't one.

Still, it would be nice to have a paycheck.

Using My Teacher Voice

I have a teacher voice. A mommy voice too. Being a kindergarten teacher and mother means that my "voice" doesn't match the voice of a drill sergeant, doesn't match the voice of a ticked off assistant principal in a high school, and certainly doesn't match the voice of an assertive police officer in a touchy situation. I have to *explain* as I make a request, because the young ones I tend to deal with don't have as much background knowledge or frames of reference that will clue them in quickly to what I need modified or addressed. Emergency situations are an entirely different matter, as no one misses or ignores any tone I use with alarm, and no one needs an explanation before trying to determine if they feel any motivation to respond as quickly as possible when they hear me use it.

We attended my daughter's Christmas band concert this evening. It might have been an enjoyable event if only the audience's behavior wasn't such a long, drawn out train wreck. My blood pressure rose as my anticipation of my daughter's performance plummeted. Teens and their siblings ran through the audience in the gym, running up to orchestra and band members snapping pictures on cell phones as the performers were warming up and tuning their instruments. Parents loudly chatted, played with cell phone ringers (no, they weren't turning them off), and ignored their offsprings' shouts, inappropriate comments and choice of vocabulary. I withstood four hits to the back of my head from teens running up and down the bleachers, not a single apology uttered once. Full-fledged conversations were being had in regular speaking voices throughout the first two musical pieces performed, and those of us who turned around to look at the chatters got rolled eyes, laughter and pointing as a response. Finally, I put my hand on a student's foot (he had been kicking my side tapping his foot offbeat to the music) and whispered "Sweetheart, it's not your turn to talk or make noise, it's your turn to listen." I followed it with a smile, and received a quick blush and nod in return.

My teacher voice worked on one student out of nine. You see, once young Master Foot was seen correcting his behavior, his cronies had to get louder and more obnoxious, perhaps in some attempt to avenge his honor. And every parent around me *let it go.* I watched a handful of other parents try to move inconspicuously away from other obnoxious teens and children, to no avail. There was no escape, no quiet area where we could listen for our child's solo, listen to inspiring music, or enjoy the progress the band had made since the beginning of the year. I just about left the concert in tears, only because my other reaction would have been to have taken children by the collars to their parents and demanded an answer to "what the he** are you thinking?!?!?!?!?!"

I spent the first ten years of my life in this very Bordertown, living on the "poor" side of the mountain, maybe a mile from where we're posted now, so I know it wasn't always like this. I remember when the haves and the have nots equally spent time raising children to be welcome. Immigrant or local, English-only, Spanish-only, or bilingual speakers, all parents, grandparents, and neighbors encouraged (required!) children to say "please, thank you," and "apologies." "Excuse me," "no thank you," yes Ma'am, yes Sir," were also regularly heard and rewarded with "what good manners you have!" Young children were left with babysitters, children old enough to attend performances were expected to sit still, save questions for later, and make necessary comments quietly. They understood the audience wasn't there to see them, they were there to see the performers. Every school-aged child in the district attended two theater performances a year as a district requirement, and yes, we knew the expectations our teachers and families had of us. No longer, apparently.

As a side note, I'll offer that it's difficult to keep an audience on track and engaged when both the band and orchestra directors apparently have no clue when it comes to the choreography required when beginning, intermediate, and advanced musicians all perform on the same night, in this case, on the same gym floor. I'm fairly certain my old orchestra teacher, Mr. H., has passed on, and is probably rolling in his grave. If Mr. A. is still alive and kicking, he's certainly been admitted to the Looney Bin by now if he's witnessed performances like this, by both students and directors alike.

So, using my teacher voice, here are some suggestions (not that the local teens, teachers, parents, or musical directors care):

1) Please learn that there are times when it's your turn to talk, and times when it's your turn to listen. You don't always get to choose which times happen when. Consideration isn't a sign of weakness, it's a sign of respect, respect you'll receive in return.

2) Even if no one has formally taught you how to behave at concerts, plays, debates, worship services, or meetings, it's okay to read the cues provided by the seemingly more reflective, calm, and observant audience members, and follow their lead. No, Joey belching out the alphabet during a band performance of the Hallelujah Chorus is not the best choice of role model. Sorry.

3) There is a difference between a musical or theatrical performance and a pep rally. Therefore there is a difference between the behaviors demonstrated at those events. Figure out the difference, and behave accordingly.

4) Just because your sister told you that Mary Jane was going to dye her hair blue before a concert doesn't mean that once you get to said concert you need to shout out at EVERY inopportune time "HEY MARY JANE, LOVE THE DOPE HAIR! WOOT WOOT!" Either quietly admire the hair, or laugh about it under your breath, but either way, talk to Mary Jane AFTER the concert please. She'll wait. Really.

5) School band concerts are actually not precursors to American Idol audience tapings, Jerry Springer reruns, or reality show soap operas. If you're in the audience, I'm sorry, but it's not about *you*. It's about the people who have practiced, learned, developed and are sitting on stage now sharing with others. You don't get the stage, therefore you don't get the attention. It's not your turn all of the time, no matter what You Tube, MySpace, and your lazy or absent parents have led you to believe.

6) Band and orchestra directors, when you're rotating different groups of performers in and out of the performance or "stage" areas, *stop rearranging the furniture* and taking twelve minutes (yes, TWELVE) to rotate thirteen students out and twenty-three students in. It's very easy. Set up ALL of the chairs and music stands you're going to need. Then either choose to seat ALL band members, regardless of skill level together on stage, with students only performing when it's their turn (yes, those not performing are capable of sitting quietly with their instruments across their laps), OR center the beginning group in the middle of the seats, leaving the extras empty, and then have them all walk off, row by row, to the left after their performance while the next group of students is walking on-stage, row by row, from the right. If the next group is bigger, they'll take up more seats, but can still seat themselves center stage. Takes a *little* practice, but the end result is faster, safer, more efficient, and more professional than the thudding, crashing, and bashing of chairs, stands, and instruments (!), and the barking of directions to students too nervous to be listening and understanding clearly.

TWELVE MINUTES? No *wonder* you couldn't get the audience back for the closing pieces! DOPE HAIR, MARY JANE!!!!!

Oh wait, that wasn't my teacher voice, was it?