[a letter from my grandpa]

I received a letter from my grandpa from Japan a couple of days ago. I’ve been wanting to blog about it since, and find it eerily coincidental that WordPress featured this blog post on their Freshly Pressed.

I’m pretty sure when I saw the title, I responded verbally, “Why yes, I HAVE talked to my grandparents recently.”

This in itself is a big feat for me.

I am one of those horrible grandchildren who fails to keep in touch with all grandparents. It’s even worse because I am the first born on both sides of my family.

My two main excuses I use for myself is that a.) all four of them (minus my grandma who passed away 4 years ago) live in different places: Hawaii, Seattle, Tokyo, Hokkaido and b.) since my parents’ divorce, it’s harder to have a normal conversation with some of the grandparents.

My relationship with my relatives in general have also been a bit strained after the divorce and my entrance into college. There were also a lot of dynamic changes on both sides of the family (mom and dad’s) with marriages and cousins growing up. I guess that ideal family image that I grew up with and was surrounded by every holiday was changing rapidly as I matured and my immaturity couldn’t deal with the changes.

That said, as I graduate into semi-adulthood, I’m realizing that I need to be a better family member – cousin, niece, grandchild, etc. They’re not going to be around forever!

You’d think that my grandmother’s death 4 years ago would be a wake up call for me to keep in touch with family, but it wasn’t until this past month with random phone calls from grandparents and my grandpa from Japan (the Tokyo one) in surgery that I actually got the wake up call.

He spelled my address wrong multiple times, but it still got to me!

I sent my Tokyo Gpa a “get well” card since he had a minor brain surgery to relieve pressure in his skull after a freak fall. I wasn’t expecting anything back, but found a letter from him: one page in (slightly broken) English and one in Japanese (I guess he didn’t think I could read the Japanese one. My Japanese relatives underestimate my reading skills in Japanese). The letter(s) basically said that, contrary to popular belief, he had already left the hospital well before he received my card and that my mother probably over exaggerated his injury (though, at his age, every injury should be over exaggerated). But that he is happy to hear from me and hopes that I am doing well.

Damn corporate lawyers. So stubborn.

But this letter made me want to write him back – perhaps one page in English and one in Japanese – because, honestly, how many people get to exchange letters with a grandparent in a different country? I need to take advantage of it while I can, especially since there are so many things I regret not having done with my grandmother.

It’s about time I put behind all of my childish selfishness and self-pity regarding my family and develop a post-college-me relationship with them.

So Secrets of Adulthood #5: Be a better family member. Stay in touch with relatives – especially your grandparents.

[the reason i am sore right now]

This past Tuesday, I did yoga in a cathedral.

Yes, even I question whether we are allowed to do yoga in a cathedral. But if a cathedral can have an AIDS memorial in it, then it can definitely have a yoga class.

I went to Yoga on the Labyrinth hosted and taught by Darren Main.

While I could go on about the varying yoga poses we did and the breathing exercises he taught us, I just want to take this time to reflect on the energy I felt while I was there.

There is something very powerful about a group of strangers (more or less – I’m sure many are regulars or have brought a friend along) sitting in a circle and breathing together – in a cathedral, a spiritual site for worship.

At the very beginning, Darren had us all breathe in together, and as we exhaled, we all breathed out the word “om.” I was initially unnerved by this. I was both surprised that we had said “om” out loud (seemed almost too spiritual to me) and that almost everyone in that cathedral said it with such conviction and selflessness.

“Om” just flowed out. There was no snickering, there was no pressure. Everyone found their balance, everyone found their “om.”

As we moved on to yoga poses, I could hear the people around me breathing. With every new move, we all exhaled and inhaled. I was feeling the energy of the cathedral at a very high vibration that I had never felt in a room of strangers before.

What was more impressive was that we were in a cathedral – the space is very large. Yet the energy I felt was both expansive and immediate. I felt lifted and yet at the same time grounded. It was such a bizarre yet comforting feeling.

(I realize I’m talking in opposites right now – but how else does one balance themselves)

Finally, we got to the part of the class (that I know we all love) where we get to just lie on our backs and relax. Except Darren invited those of us who would rather take that time to meditate to… well.. meditate.

And I don’t know what it was but I had this incredible urge to sit and meditate. And I did. And it only lasted about 15 minutes but it was an amazing meditation. I chanted the mantra, “hamsa” to myself, and I could feel the world drop around me.

I will be honest and say that it took me a while to get to my rested state, but once I did, i didn’t want to get out of it. Every part of me wanted to keep meditating rather than listen to Darren talk about his other classes.

When we closed the class with “om” on the exhale, this time I was right there with everyone. I had the same conviction that they did.

I think the combination of the singular energy in the room, the fact that I was in a cathedral, and that this move to SF has been all about new beginnings and balancing myself added into my medtiation.

I will definitely be going again next week. I want to feel the world at a high vibration. And ideally, I would want to feel it every day, but I’ll take baby steps. So for now, I’ll feel it when I go to Grace Cathedral on Tuesdays.

Also on a slight side note – maybe it’s because SF has a lot of pretty churches and cathedrals, or maybe it’s just my general openness to all things spiritual as of late (don’t believe me? Remember, I did have a conversation about god with two perfect strangers) but I’ve been spending lots of time in churches and cathedrals lately. But you know what, it’s probably a good thing. I don’t plan to become Christian at all, but a spiritual place is a spiritual place. And if all religions end up preaching the same thing – love – then perhaps I can find my spiritual balance anywhere.

For a more light hearted account of my yoga class, click here.

[god and two randos from the park]

Today I bought furniture, ate cherries, and talked about God with two random kids in a park.

Excuse me while I crack myself up.

Now, for many, this seems like a very possible schedule. For me – not so much. Mostly the “eating cherries” part because as much as I like cherries, I rarely go and buy them myself. I’ll only eat them if they magically appear in front of me. But these were “1 lb of cherries for $1 Chinatown cherries” so I had to.

Ok, that’s sort of a lie too.

The talk about God is probably the least likely thing to happe on a normal day for me.

So after my 5 hour saga of driving to Emeryville (Hooray Ikea, Target, and Ross), I returned triumphantly from my trip having bought my full room’s worth of furniture for the same amount of money my roommates paid for a single mattress. Feeling good and quite Charlie-Sheen about myself (um… duh, WINNING), I decided to sit in Washington Square Park and bask in my glory (er, the sun), popping cherries into my mouth like it ain’t no thang.

20 minutes later, I was approached by two young Asian-American kids, one female and one male, asking me if they could join me.

My first thought was, “are they going to try to convert me into Christianity?”

And sure enough, they tried!

Well, not so directly. But they did mention very early in their introduction that they were in SF for 7 weeks for a Christian thing. But I was feeling so victorious from my morning’s shopping that I didn’t care why they were talking to me. Plus, I was working on “Project Alone and Independent” where I learn to live by myself again – and that definitely included talking to random Asian-Americans who flew out to SF for 7 weeks to spread the word of God.

The girl was a 20-year old kid from New York who found god relatively recently (like in the past two years) and the other was a dude from Wisconsin (I didn’t know Asian-Americans existed in Wisconsin) – probably 19 – who “was forced into Catholicism” (hey, his words, not mine). They were in SF for 7 weeks on a mission to work in the city and talk to random strangers about their faith and Christianity.

Dude… That takes balls.

What was even more impressive was that they had never been to SF, much less the west coast, before.

Okay, honestly though, what was MOST impressive was that I ended up exchanging numbers with the chick from NY.

Say what?

Now, if this was me about 3 years ago, I’d been freaked out that two random strangers sat down next to me to talk about God. Today, however, I decided entertain both them and myself by conversing with them for an hour.

This was the first image that Google Images gave me of "god." Is it okay if my God was young, tall, dark and handsome?

I openly admitted to them that I was spiritual and that I believe in a higher being. I disagreed with them, though, that God was an external being that is your friend. I am of the “God = I AM” train of thought, so ultimately God is me.

And then they asked me if I go to church (because apparently they missed the part where I told them that I wasn’t Christian and that Buddhist and Shintoists don’t go to church) and seemed both amused and pleased that I had recently had a conversation with my roommates about accompanying them to church on Sundays (true story – both the amused and entertained part and the going to church with the roomies thing).

Honestly, I think what happened was that I was feeling great from this morning and then felt sorry for the kids because they reminded me of my freshmen (both in HS and in college) who were lost in this new place they had never been and suddenly had to make friends. So I agreed to be their friend. Unfortunately they’re both underage so I can’t be a “drinking friend,” but at least the next time they want to be reminded that Buddhist and Shintoists don’t go to church, they know who to turn to.

I’m not going to lie – it was sort of fun trying to explain my views of religion and spirituality to these two kids without going all Liberal-San-Francisco-Leftist on them. They’re lucky that I was nice. They’re going to find some interesting people during their 7 weeks here; many who are not shy about their lack of faith in God.

All in all, it was an extremely successful day and perhaps the official start date of Project Alone and Independent – maybe I’ll call it PAI for short. Actually, I could just call it PAIN. Hahahaha.

I hope those two kids survive SF. I really hope they do.

[your age on a number line]

This is true on so many levels that it’s almost actually sad. Or maybe I’m the sad and pathetic one in my 20s. Yeah, I think that’s what it is. Thanks, xkcd. Thanks.

from xkcd.com

[designing my own d-school class]

In the next 48 hours, I have to design a 2 week (essentially 20 hours) course to teach a group of 6 – 8th graders on how to be an entrepreneur.

Am I an entrepreneur? No.

Was I ever an entrepreneur? I don’t think so.

Do I know anything about entrepreneuring? Hell no.

This is what happens when I nod my head in agreement and let my voice sound excited in a phone conversation where I somehow miss or fail to hear the key points.

I thought they were asking if I wanted to be an aid for summer school.

Nope, they want me to be a lead instructor – for a class that teaches “entrepreneuring” (Is that a real verb? Did I just make it up?).

And of course, I am the only person amongst all of my friends who HAS NOT taken an entrepreneurial ”let’s save the world” d-school class in college. So while my friends were/are making a difference in China or Cambodia with their amazing ideas worthy of the company wanting to eventually hire them – I was busy lighting egotistical actors on stage and teaching 14 year olds the differences between there, their, and they’re.

#lifechoices

And now the director of the summer school I may be working at has asked me to propose a two week curriculum of what a “young entrepreneur” class can look like.

*cue freak out*

The class starts in 20 days.

*cue second freak out*

Now, to be quite honest – I’m a bit excited at the prospect of teaching such a class. But that excitement has only been allowed to show itself after I go through all of my panic, anxiety, and fear that I’ve been overwhelmed with since I hung up the phone.

I just finished drafting an initial plan. It’s not horrible. But I also have no idea if that’s what they’re looking for. I’m waiting for my friend who HAS taken a d-school class to call me so that she can tell me what people actually do in a “be an entrepreneur” classes. And then she can shoot down every lesson plan I had thought of and froce me into the fetal position as I try to hide from this cruel, cruel world.

I think I also have to find guest speakers (entrepreneurs?!) to come talk to the class about what it means to be an “entrepreneur.”

No, I don’t know any entrepreneurs in the area. Well, I know a couple. They’re usually flying all over the country, though, because… well, they’re young entrepreneurs.

Fortunately, I only have to come up with material for ten 2-hour sessions where by day 10, they are presenting to real Silicon Valley entrepreneurs to pitch their ideas.

Unfortunately, I only have ten 2-hours sessions where by day 10, they are presenting to real Silicon Valley entrepreneurs to pitch their ideas.

Furthermore, the kids that come to these camps are sons and daughters of actual entrepreneurs.

Did I mention that I have NO entrepreneurial background and on top of that, my parents are teachers and NOT entrepreneurs?

And then when I’m not freaking out about this class, I’m freaking out about how I’m going to get myself to this school with no transportation and which friends might owe me favors so that I could carpool with them or borrow their car.

On a positive note (if this could be considered as one) – this sudden project has kept me occupied enough that I’m not concentrating on my other emotional problems that I’m currently going through. But I don’t know if I want to be substituting my emotional problems with other scary emotions like “panic, anxiety, and fear.”

*big sigh*

I’m slowly falling apart

*even bigger sigh*

Fetal positions, commence!

[a change of scenery = peace of mind]

I’ve been operating at a really low vibration lately. Part of it is due to the negative energy in my work place. I think it’s because we’re nearing the end of the school year, but everyone seems more catty and annoyed. Every time I walk in, I walk into whispered conversations – a secret society that I was never a part of.

It reminds me a lot of high school; people act like your friends and will be nice to you,  but the moment you turn your back, you don’t know what they’re saying about you. Granted, in this case, it’s assuming that I’m important enough that they ARE talking about me. And to be honest, I highly doubt that they are talking about me.

That said, I really don’t like people who talk bad about other people just for the sake of it. I realize that venting is good and necessary, but sometimes I feel like people complain and say bad things about people when it is completely and utterly unnecessary. If you’re going to say something bad about someone and it isn’t constructive, don’t bother saying it at all.

So this weekend, I decided that when I walk into school on Monday, I was going to change locations. I figured it was like when I was in school and I used to write papers or study for finals –  a change of scenery boosted productivity and often changed my mood to a more positive one.

I spent all day on a different floor with different people and voila – I was operating at a higher vibration.

I didn’t feel like I was walking into a secret conversation and everything just felt brighter. No cubicle. Just a long counter to work on sitting next to and across from a couple of colleagues I should have spent more time with since the beginning of the year and never did.

Whether they like it or not, I’ll probably end up spending the rest of the week in that same place. Some might argue that by moving locations I’m just running away from my problems. I’m not running away; I’m just finding alternate solutions. It’s easier to move one person than six people.

So life lesson in adulthood #3 – A change of scenery is good for you. 

New people, new faces, new energy.

I only wish I had realized this earlier.

–

ps. On a completely different note, I absolutely LOVE the full-screen, “Just write” mode. So clean and I can literally “just write.” Less is so much more.

[the new challenge - becoming an adult]

While I have graduated college, I hardly feel like an adult yet. I live with my mom and step dad. I don’t own a car. I carpool to work with my mom. I still get cooked for and my laundry gets done – by my mom.

I was supposed to spend this first year out of college as my “year off.” This grandiose notion slowly faded away when I took a job teaching high schoolers a subject that I had absolute no interest or background in; an unfortunate case of “money trumps all.” Between classroom management, reading about history, and lesson plans, I quickly concluded that this was probably the most I had ever used my brain (granted, I used it in college too, but at least I was interested in the subject matter then. Trust me, it’s hard to bring yourself to enjoy history if you really don’t like it).

This was not the way I had envisioned my “year off.”

Then again, I never really did have a vision of it – which probably explains why I ended up in Hawaii, living with my mom, spending weekdays entertaining 9th graders and weekends trying to recuperate from “people.”

But somehow between wearing that disgustingly hot, black gown while listening to the “could have been inspirational” commencement speech and daily internal struggle of differentiated instruction, I decided that I would pursue education as a career path. I don’t really know what I was thinking, but the moment I allowed myself to accept that I enjoy education and mentorship, I felt lighter. Listen to your gut.

With this realization (acceptance?) also came the need to get out of Hawaii. It is a lovely place to vacation or visit family, but not the ideal living situation for a young, 20-something who grew up near cities her whole life and needs an active arts and theater community. No, Hawaii wasn’t going to cut it – I had to move.

Ok, this is the part where I don’t feel like writing a detailed account of what happened, so let’s just say with these goals in mind – getting out of Hawaii and pursuing education – I somehow managed to get a teaching job in the San Francisco area.

So – surprise! – I’m moving in a month.

But with this move comes all of these adult responsibilities that I haven’t had to face yet. Essentially by coming “home” after college, I had managed to prolong the “becoming a grown up” process.

Now I had to deal with silly problems like finding a place to live, figuring out if I can pay rent, deciding whether I needed a car and with current gas prices if it even made sense, and how in the world I was going to stay alive, fed, and healthy with a teaching INTERN’s salary (oh, I forgot to mention – while my increase is increasing ever so slightly from this year to next year, I still make too little to live in San Francisco. Yes, I’m ambitious).

As I figured out these little logistical issues (mind you, I have not bought my one way ticket to SF yet), I realized that I needed to stop and reassess what I was doing and how I was approaching whatever I was doing before I get overwhelmed. I’ve come to realizations/understandings such as:

1.) Once I get through my first apartment search experience – I will know what to look for next time and thus cut the stress and time in half

2.) I have to start being able to calculate money, budget, and save so that I can have some flexibility in the future.

These were going to be tedious, but necessary experiences that I tell myself will help me become and adult. Then I thought, now that “my first year of teaching” saga was over, perhaps I can add another challenge to my life – becoming an adult!

By chronicling each step – good, bad, educational, just plain shitty – I can monitor my growth and also remember all of those “firsts” and life lessons that I’m sure will benefit me in the future.

While some might wait until June when I move to SF to actually start documenting life, there’s no reason to wait, since I’ve already spent more time with Craig than with my boyfriend – craigslist, that is – and worried about money and finding a second job like all artists and teachers should.

So as I write about the end of my first year of teaching and moving on to my next year teaching a different grade at a different school in a different city, I’ll also write about what it means to become an adult and how I’m learning to balance being an adult but keeping that sense of play.

Perhaps this is when I’m truly meant to bloom.

And what better place to be a hippie in bloom than in SF?

Here’s to becoming an adult!

[back from the dead]

No, I haven’t forgotten about this blog. But yes, I haven’t written in over a month. I don’t really have an excuse besides being lazy. It’s also been an interesting month – personally though, not particularly at school.

As the school year comes to an end, I am forced to reflect as I frantically try to put together my portfolio and teaching long that I have diligently (not) kept up with since October. As I go through my lesson plans, I find myself thinking, “wait, really? I thought of that?” It’s generally followed by, “wow, I could’ve done that better…” but alas, what am I going to do.

I just went through my old blog posts and am really feeling that I need to be better at this for the next four weeks. It’s amazing what kind of reflection and insight I can have in a blog post. I’ve often considered writing as a form of therapy for me – especially since I’m that type of person who is incapable of spilling my guts to every person I walk by (it’s not necessarily a quality I strive for either, just in case you were wondering). So I write. Er… Type. I type faster than I think, so it’s a win-win situation on all fronts.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on “fairness” in the classroom. With two classes with such distinct personalities, the way I interact and my general happiness in the two classes often vary – I tend to be happier in the nicer class room and more frustrated in the more difficult classroom.

Being the perfectionist that I am, I gave myself a hard time in the beginning of the year trying to treat both classes the same. Then at one point, I realized that I was much better off just accepting the fact that each class has it’s own life and resistance would be futile.

Acceptance. That was the key word.

But it isn’t always easy.

A month ago, I was trying to set up groups for a religion project that they were going to work on. They got to write down their preferences and my goal was to create groups that may not socially always make sense, but would be unified under a common interest. The task proved much easier with one class over the other. With the harder class, there seemed to be now way of setting up the groups so that each group would succeed. No matter what, there was always one or two groups that would be set up for failure just because of who they were grouped with.

Finally after struggling for a while, I accepted the groups that I made. I had 24 kids in the class – half of which often come up in teacher meetings. It was what it was.

Was it fair for the struggling kids who got stuck with other struggling kids? Probably not. But at the same time, perhaps this is a chance for those who were never given the chance (because we assume that they are under performers thus subconsciously always placing them in a non-challenging environment) to lead.

The results were varied. Some groups surprised me and some performed as expected.

But by taking off the pressure from myself, the high performing kids who had been striving to work with other high performing kids got a chance to engage in quality work. The kids who needed a chance to lead go to lead. And those who struggled, still struggled – but at least now I could differentiate even more clearly than before who were actually struggling and who were just lazy. I already had a good idea of that from the beginning of the year, but it’s always good to re-gauge that notion later in the year to allow space for the kid to grow.

I sometimes have to remind myself that given that this is my first year of teaching, sometimes I need to give myself a break. This means trying something even if you don’t know the results (wait, isn’t that sort of the definition of “try”?). How will I know if this is a fair or reasonable approach if I don’t try it?

Then there’s that internal struggle with myself who feels that I am doing a disservice to my students if I try something and it fails. But chances are, they aren’t going to be able to tell the difference. They’ll rememberer the time I put a chair in middle of the class and asked them to write the history of the chair. Or when they had to be Aristotle on a witness stand. Hopefully those memories will grossly out weigh the time I may have “screwed them over” by assigning them to a difficult group. Then again, we can’t always choose our colleagues, right?

–

As I finish up this school year, I am going to start a new project. I think I’ll start it tomorrow since there’s no reason for me to wait.  But that also means you won’t know what it is until tomorrow.

So for now, I’m going to say hasta luego, see you soon, and now I’m going to go watch Thor.

[lessons, schmessons]

I’m afraid that I’m out of tricks.

My brain knows what I should be teaching next, but I feel like I’m out of cool ways to teach it. That’s actually probably not true. I probably am just having “teacher’s block” but no matter.

I am, however, figuring out that this is the semester where I can probably start incorporating what I actually know to class. I just have to make it age appropriate.

I did an exercise this past week tracing back the history of information – more specifically mediums. It lead into looking at what might serve as historical catalysts for us to get to where we are. The kids thought, gasped, complained, presented, and learned. We defined catalysts, talked about what moves us through the years, and now I’m set up for some revolutionary lesson plan that will blow their minds.

At least that’s the plan.

Do I have a mind blowing lesson plan? Nope. At least not yet.

Which brings me to a thought I had midweek.

Not every lesson plan has to be mind blowing.

I certainly didn’t have teachers where every lesson made sense to me or was revolutionary. I had good teachers but I don’t remember everything we talked about in class. That means, chances are, my kids won’t remember much either. I remember Mulan and Siddartha Gautama. I don’t think I learned much more. But that’s okay.

I don’t know where this pressure is coming from. I mean, I know it’s my own pressure, but it’s not like someone’s breathing down my neck to make sure I do every step right.

So, my goal for the next few weeks is to let go a little bit. I think it’s still important to strive to do your best, but I also have to make sure I don’t put myself into overdrive and screw it all up. I need to make sure I take care of myself – especially since the middle school play is starting to head into that crucial time where I have to put a lot of energy into this show. I need to stop, breathe, relax, and just go with the flow.

Speaking of the MS show. I don’t want to say much about it, but honestly – what do I do with a show where the main character can only come to 1 out of 3 rehearsals every week, kids come and go to rehearsals as they please, and students keep disappearing and popping up for weeks at a time without any warning or explanation.

A school will have a really hard time setting up a performing arts program if the students think plays just magically happen and they can come and go as they please, as if we’re a babysitting program that just happen to put on a show at the end.

Between the play, trying to teach a subject I know [thismuch] about, and figuring out what I’m going to do with my life 5 months from now, I can say that Dr. D will be impressed with my sleep debt right now. I crash the moment my head hits the pillow, but then not get a good night’s sleep because my brain won’t stop cycling through all of the things I need to think about (need to? maybe? hmm…) that I’m thinking about it even in my dreams. So yes. Am I getting enough sleep at night? I don’t think so.

Oh well.

Forward motion!

[it's the adults, not the kids]

The issues with our education system – public, private, independent, charter, or otherwise – is not the kids, it’s the adults. It’s not that the kids are getting dumber with their lack of exercise and their intake of junk food, but rather it’s the adults who can’t seem to own up to any of their own actions.

Now, this is not a revolutionary thought. There are many people out there who would argue the same. But at this time of my life and my short career, and through all of the emotional roller coaster rides I’ve been riding the past month, this is my big AHA moment.

When I’m stressed or angry, it’s not because of the kids. Yes, it’s frustrating when one class moves at a much slower pace than the other, or when they ask a question that I answered 10 seconds ago, or when that one kid keeps interrupting me over and over and over… But fundamentally, they’re being kids. It happens.

The adults? Well, honestly, I expect more from the adults.

Too much politics. And I know that there are politics. But in a profession of service where we’re all, supposedly, working toward the same goal, you’d think the adults would show more compassion. And I don’t mean show more compassion for the kids because I must agree, there are some kids where you can only give so much before you have to check your own sanity. But honestly, compassion for each other, your fellow colleagues, the adults – is that too much to ask for?

It’s the incessant gossip, talking behind each other’s backs, the cliques and passive aggressive emails. Why won’t someone just say what they want to say and save us a lot of time and space in our inbox? And a colleague is struggling, help them out. Instead of complaining about something, do something about it. This is a profession of service, so reach out to each other, and not just the students. The more they see us interact well with each other (and I know this is true from my past two people-service related jobs), the better the interaction between the students will be.

Idealistic? Of course.

Does that mean we can’t strive for it? Of course not!

Adults annoy me – that’s all I’m saying.

So, as I near the end of my first semester of teaching HS, I’ve had a lot of time to reflect, though I’m sure there will never be enough time to reflect. Nonetheless, a thought I’ve had for the past week or so that I want to write down before I forget – different goals for different classes.

In the past two weeks, between papers, presentations, and project, it has become painstakingly clear that my two classes are at very different levels academically, socially, and everything-else-ly. This means that I can never expect the same outcome from both groups.

This is sort of a tough reality to be faced with – ESPECIALLY since there IS such a wide gap. Of course, there are a couple of students who can cross over to the other side, but fundamentally, they are like night and day, black and white, water and oil, and every other comparison of opposites you can think of (please don’t argue with me about how my comparisons are actually not that great… we’ll get into that at a later time).

I hit this obstacle/realization pretty early in the year, and I was explaining my struggles to a veteran teacher , now an administrator in an international school, and she told me in a very matter-of-fact tone, “oh, just set different goals for each class.”

duh.

I’ve been so caught up on making sure both classes get to the exact same understanding at the end of each lesson, that I didn’t consider the fact that perhaps the desired outcome of each class needs to be different. While I know that one class will take the information I give them and stretch it to the n-th degree, with my other class, I just have to work on them even taking the information.

Will both groups come out of my class with a different understanding of some of the concepts? Yes. But will they both get something out of the class? Yes, since I will not allow anything less.

So that’s what I’m going to work on next quarter. Besides teach all that history that I’m supposed to be teaching, I’m also going to work on setting different goals for both classes and see where that takes me. It might work, it might not – but what have I got to lose?