Friday, May 12, 2006
At home recuperating in my apartment all weekend
It’s a four-day weekend. Monday, May 15 is Teachers Day, and today (Friday) was the trip to celebrate Teachers Day. I didn’t go today because of my cold, but also, we weren’t going anywhere exciting.
The school had originally planned to take us to Zacatecas, which is a beautiful colonial town with old silver mines, about four hours to the north. Several of us teachers have never been, so we were excited about it. It was going to be tomorrow, Saturday, so that everyone could go and arrange for babysitters if needed.
But then a week before the trip, the principal informs us that the board of directors thinks it would be easier for us to go to Guadalajara. We wouldn’t lose much time traveling, and they wouldn’t have to charter a bus for us, which costs a good deal. When we are asked for our opinions, many people say that anywhere would be fine, because this trip is a gift from the school. We are obviously embarrassed to ask for something that the school cannot afford. Many of us say, however, that we’ve been to Guadalajara and would prefer to go somewhere more exciting. Others say they won’t go anywhere, because they can’t leave their families for that long.
The next meeting we have, the principal tells us that the board of directors wants to take us wherever we want to go. Some of the teachers who won’t go to Zacatecas will consider going to Guadalajara, throwing a wrench in the plans of those who want to see Zacatecas. No consensus is reached.
The next day, the principal decides she wants to go to a spa near Lake Chapala, so that’s where we’re going. In addition, she changes the date to Friday instead of Saturday, preventing several people with other engagements that day from being able to attend.
And then the next day, the principal decides the teachers should have a secret vote. Zacatecas wins.
The next day is already Thursday, one day before the trip, and she says we are not going to Zacatecas because it’s too far, and we are instead going to a ranch near Lagos, a big town to the east of Arandas.
I wonder how many people have actually gone on the trip today. I for one could not be bothered. If it was Zacatecas, I’d have made the effort. But for a ranch during crummy, rainy weather? No, thanks.
I suppose it could’ve been fun. Maybe this place is actually really nice. But I think it was the principle of the thing that bothered me the most, and I stayed home partly in personal protest of the school’s shenanigans.
Mother’s Day was Wednesday here. We didn’t have to teach classes but we had this huge breakfast affair with dance performances by the students. My favorite was the Hawaiian dance. The fourth-grade teacher has taken Hawaiian dance classes, so she taught some of the girls to do it, too. They had the grass skirts and the whole shebang. It was pretty spectacular.
It wasn’t a great day for me, however, because there was a lot of drama between me and Aracely, one of the kindergarten teachers I hang out with. Two days before the event, the teachers had to start making presents for the mothers of all their students. It was just like the Christmas bolas that we had to make in a frenzy, sewing and sewing for days. This time we had to make frames with photos of the kids, and the frames had borders of aluminum with designs in relief. The process included making the designs on the aluminum sheets, cutting and gluing the aluminum borders onto a board, and then gluing the photo on the board. It doesn’t sound like a lot of work, but it was a pain in the ass. There was a little piece of plastic that had a design mold and which you placed under the aluminum, and you had to pass a paper instrument over the aluminum to make the design. Then gluing the aluminum was difficult because not just any glue will work. This was a lot of tiring work, especially for the teachers who have a lot of students. Aracely was stressing out a lot because she has 29 students. (Compare this with the primary grade teachers who only have five to eleven students each.) Rocio and I decided to help Aracely with the portraits.
We spent Monday and Tuesday evening working on them. Monday night we were at her house till 11 p.m., and we had only finished about half. Tuesday evening, I was tired from my cold, so when Aracely’s two-year-old daughter Ashley kept hitting me, as she always does, I became extremely irritated. I started yelling, “No! No me pegas!” (Don’t hit me!), but this only served to provoke her further. Rocio would laugh, and Aracely would tell me not to speak to her children that way. I felt desperate. “Why is she hitting me then?” I asked.
Finally, we finished the portraits, and I was relaxing on the couch watching my favorite soap opera, when Ashley came up behind me and pulled my ponytail very hard. I yelled at her and turned around again. This time she pulled my hair at the scalp, again using as much force possible, and it hurt. I jumped up shouting that I was leaving and that I couldn’t stand her daughter anymore. I grabbed my things without saying another thing and stormed out of the house.
I felt absolutely furious with Aracely for not controlling her daughter. I thought about it in terms of a dog, because that’s all the experience I have to go on—I yelled at Ashley like I would yell at a dog, because I don’t know how to deal with kids that young. I thought, if I had a dog and the dog was harassing one of my guests, I would discipline the dog or put it in another room. Aracely was expecting me to just put up with it or discipline her myself, but how was I going to do that? What’s more, I had gone to her house to help with her work, not to be abused by a two-year-old!
At home, I got online and saw Rocio on messenger. I asked her what she thought, if she thought what I did was wrong. All she said to me, whatever question I asked her, was, “I don’t want to give an opinion because both of you are my friends.” This made me feel worse. I ended up chatting with Luis online, interrupting his work on his candidacy exam, but without that comfort I don’t know what I would’ve done. It killed me not to be able to discuss it with Rocio.
In the end, despite my belief that Aracely was the one who should apologize to me, I sent her a text message apologizing for shouting at Ashley and for leaving in that way. I did honestly feel that I could have handled the situation differently, so I was apologetic. But I also explained that I didn’t know how to handle kids of that young age, and that I was angry because I felt nobody was helping me with her. I also said that I knew she didn’t have credit on her cell phone anymore, so we could talk the next day at the Mother’s Day event.
When I saw her at mass the next morning, I walked towards her and got her attention by saying her name and smiling. She looked at me, smiled, and then walked away.
The whole morning, she didn’t speak to me or even look at me. Rocio hardly spoke to me either. This was actually what hurt my feelings the most, because Rocio is truly a friend of mine, while Aracely I know to be rather immature and whose friendship with me is merely a matter of convenience. Aracely and I cannot hang out alone or we both die of boredom; we have nothing to say to each other. She has little patience with talking to me, since my Spanish is not good, and so we just don’t talk about anything. But I felt like Rocio thought I had done something wrong; why else wouldn’t she speak to me?
I went home early from the event because I was tired from my cold but also because I couldn’t stand the awkwardness of hanging out with the other teachers.
That night I chatted online with Rocio and asked if Aracely was mad at me, and she said she didn’t think so, but that she hadn’t had time to talk to her about it. I also apologized for getting irritated that night when she wouldn’t talk to me about Aracely, and she said not to worry about it. We have been chatting a little again, so I think things are OK between me and Rocio. At least I hope so.
I hope also that Aracely and I get over this thing. Maybe time will help. We won’t have to see each other again until Tuesday, so perhaps we’ll both have forgotten all about it. It doesn’t seem like such a big deal, when I think about it, but I was very upset by the whole thing, because these are the only friends I have in Arandas. It was terrible at the Mother’s Day event, because I had no one to hang out with; I just stood by myself helping some of the primary grade teachers with their students. At least Cristina was friendly with me, because she didn’t know what had happened. I didn’t say anything to her about it, so she thought it was strange that I wouldn’t sit and hang out with them, but I didn’t want to go and sit with Aracely. I suppose I was acting immature, too, but I just didn’t know what to do. I had already apologized and tried to speak to her, and she didn’t seem to want to speak to me, so I didn’t know what else to do. Maybe she just didn’t know what to say, either. I hope that is the case. I hope she doesn’t think that I was wrong somehow for getting irritated at her two-year-old.
Age 2 is not the age group of the kids I plan to deal with in my career. I am not interested in teaching nor fit to teach early childhood education. I would like my students to already be potty-trained and with some sense of what is socially appropriate, like not to hit me.
Anyway, I have decided to attend Teachers College at Columbia University in New York for their M.A. program with teacher certification in bilingual childhood (elementary) education, with a possible certification in middle school as well. I am really excited about going to school for something I feel strongly about and that may finally lead to a professional career that I want. It’s also exciting that I will be in New York City, where I have always wanted to live for a while. I’m still waiting to deliver the news to the school here, however, just to stay on the principal’s good side for as long as possible.
The school had originally planned to take us to Zacatecas, which is a beautiful colonial town with old silver mines, about four hours to the north. Several of us teachers have never been, so we were excited about it. It was going to be tomorrow, Saturday, so that everyone could go and arrange for babysitters if needed.
But then a week before the trip, the principal informs us that the board of directors thinks it would be easier for us to go to Guadalajara. We wouldn’t lose much time traveling, and they wouldn’t have to charter a bus for us, which costs a good deal. When we are asked for our opinions, many people say that anywhere would be fine, because this trip is a gift from the school. We are obviously embarrassed to ask for something that the school cannot afford. Many of us say, however, that we’ve been to Guadalajara and would prefer to go somewhere more exciting. Others say they won’t go anywhere, because they can’t leave their families for that long.
The next meeting we have, the principal tells us that the board of directors wants to take us wherever we want to go. Some of the teachers who won’t go to Zacatecas will consider going to Guadalajara, throwing a wrench in the plans of those who want to see Zacatecas. No consensus is reached.
The next day, the principal decides she wants to go to a spa near Lake Chapala, so that’s where we’re going. In addition, she changes the date to Friday instead of Saturday, preventing several people with other engagements that day from being able to attend.
And then the next day, the principal decides the teachers should have a secret vote. Zacatecas wins.
The next day is already Thursday, one day before the trip, and she says we are not going to Zacatecas because it’s too far, and we are instead going to a ranch near Lagos, a big town to the east of Arandas.
I wonder how many people have actually gone on the trip today. I for one could not be bothered. If it was Zacatecas, I’d have made the effort. But for a ranch during crummy, rainy weather? No, thanks.
I suppose it could’ve been fun. Maybe this place is actually really nice. But I think it was the principle of the thing that bothered me the most, and I stayed home partly in personal protest of the school’s shenanigans.
Mother’s Day was Wednesday here. We didn’t have to teach classes but we had this huge breakfast affair with dance performances by the students. My favorite was the Hawaiian dance. The fourth-grade teacher has taken Hawaiian dance classes, so she taught some of the girls to do it, too. They had the grass skirts and the whole shebang. It was pretty spectacular.
It wasn’t a great day for me, however, because there was a lot of drama between me and Aracely, one of the kindergarten teachers I hang out with. Two days before the event, the teachers had to start making presents for the mothers of all their students. It was just like the Christmas bolas that we had to make in a frenzy, sewing and sewing for days. This time we had to make frames with photos of the kids, and the frames had borders of aluminum with designs in relief. The process included making the designs on the aluminum sheets, cutting and gluing the aluminum borders onto a board, and then gluing the photo on the board. It doesn’t sound like a lot of work, but it was a pain in the ass. There was a little piece of plastic that had a design mold and which you placed under the aluminum, and you had to pass a paper instrument over the aluminum to make the design. Then gluing the aluminum was difficult because not just any glue will work. This was a lot of tiring work, especially for the teachers who have a lot of students. Aracely was stressing out a lot because she has 29 students. (Compare this with the primary grade teachers who only have five to eleven students each.) Rocio and I decided to help Aracely with the portraits.
We spent Monday and Tuesday evening working on them. Monday night we were at her house till 11 p.m., and we had only finished about half. Tuesday evening, I was tired from my cold, so when Aracely’s two-year-old daughter Ashley kept hitting me, as she always does, I became extremely irritated. I started yelling, “No! No me pegas!” (Don’t hit me!), but this only served to provoke her further. Rocio would laugh, and Aracely would tell me not to speak to her children that way. I felt desperate. “Why is she hitting me then?” I asked.
Finally, we finished the portraits, and I was relaxing on the couch watching my favorite soap opera, when Ashley came up behind me and pulled my ponytail very hard. I yelled at her and turned around again. This time she pulled my hair at the scalp, again using as much force possible, and it hurt. I jumped up shouting that I was leaving and that I couldn’t stand her daughter anymore. I grabbed my things without saying another thing and stormed out of the house.
I felt absolutely furious with Aracely for not controlling her daughter. I thought about it in terms of a dog, because that’s all the experience I have to go on—I yelled at Ashley like I would yell at a dog, because I don’t know how to deal with kids that young. I thought, if I had a dog and the dog was harassing one of my guests, I would discipline the dog or put it in another room. Aracely was expecting me to just put up with it or discipline her myself, but how was I going to do that? What’s more, I had gone to her house to help with her work, not to be abused by a two-year-old!
At home, I got online and saw Rocio on messenger. I asked her what she thought, if she thought what I did was wrong. All she said to me, whatever question I asked her, was, “I don’t want to give an opinion because both of you are my friends.” This made me feel worse. I ended up chatting with Luis online, interrupting his work on his candidacy exam, but without that comfort I don’t know what I would’ve done. It killed me not to be able to discuss it with Rocio.
In the end, despite my belief that Aracely was the one who should apologize to me, I sent her a text message apologizing for shouting at Ashley and for leaving in that way. I did honestly feel that I could have handled the situation differently, so I was apologetic. But I also explained that I didn’t know how to handle kids of that young age, and that I was angry because I felt nobody was helping me with her. I also said that I knew she didn’t have credit on her cell phone anymore, so we could talk the next day at the Mother’s Day event.
When I saw her at mass the next morning, I walked towards her and got her attention by saying her name and smiling. She looked at me, smiled, and then walked away.
The whole morning, she didn’t speak to me or even look at me. Rocio hardly spoke to me either. This was actually what hurt my feelings the most, because Rocio is truly a friend of mine, while Aracely I know to be rather immature and whose friendship with me is merely a matter of convenience. Aracely and I cannot hang out alone or we both die of boredom; we have nothing to say to each other. She has little patience with talking to me, since my Spanish is not good, and so we just don’t talk about anything. But I felt like Rocio thought I had done something wrong; why else wouldn’t she speak to me?
I went home early from the event because I was tired from my cold but also because I couldn’t stand the awkwardness of hanging out with the other teachers.
That night I chatted online with Rocio and asked if Aracely was mad at me, and she said she didn’t think so, but that she hadn’t had time to talk to her about it. I also apologized for getting irritated that night when she wouldn’t talk to me about Aracely, and she said not to worry about it. We have been chatting a little again, so I think things are OK between me and Rocio. At least I hope so.
I hope also that Aracely and I get over this thing. Maybe time will help. We won’t have to see each other again until Tuesday, so perhaps we’ll both have forgotten all about it. It doesn’t seem like such a big deal, when I think about it, but I was very upset by the whole thing, because these are the only friends I have in Arandas. It was terrible at the Mother’s Day event, because I had no one to hang out with; I just stood by myself helping some of the primary grade teachers with their students. At least Cristina was friendly with me, because she didn’t know what had happened. I didn’t say anything to her about it, so she thought it was strange that I wouldn’t sit and hang out with them, but I didn’t want to go and sit with Aracely. I suppose I was acting immature, too, but I just didn’t know what to do. I had already apologized and tried to speak to her, and she didn’t seem to want to speak to me, so I didn’t know what else to do. Maybe she just didn’t know what to say, either. I hope that is the case. I hope she doesn’t think that I was wrong somehow for getting irritated at her two-year-old.
Age 2 is not the age group of the kids I plan to deal with in my career. I am not interested in teaching nor fit to teach early childhood education. I would like my students to already be potty-trained and with some sense of what is socially appropriate, like not to hit me.
Anyway, I have decided to attend Teachers College at Columbia University in New York for their M.A. program with teacher certification in bilingual childhood (elementary) education, with a possible certification in middle school as well. I am really excited about going to school for something I feel strongly about and that may finally lead to a professional career that I want. It’s also exciting that I will be in New York City, where I have always wanted to live for a while. I’m still waiting to deliver the news to the school here, however, just to stay on the principal’s good side for as long as possible.
