The B-day

For my real birthday weekend, I took it easy. Friday the 13th, my birthday, I did a reading assessment of a third-grader in a dual-language class in Harlem. She was so cute! The reading test I administered indicated that she is reading at a first-grade level, but she comprehended the reading selection very well. I was so proud of her at the end. When we were finished, I watched the class a little. They were learning how to carry for their addition problems. It's hard to explain that stuff to someone who doesn't get it.

Then I went to work. Like the rest of the week, I was kept pretty busy in the office. My boss had come back from her two-week vacation on Monday, and she was giving me all kinds of projects to do. During her absence, Thursdays and Fridays were totally free for things like homework and email (much more of the latter got done than the former), but now these days of the week have to be used to create a binder for last year's budget material or updating the student files. I do still get time to do my homework, like today, while putting off the considerably less important budget binder project. And the great thing about my boss is that she lets me take off time for school things, such as classroom observations and Title III grant meetings, so I shouldn't complain about having to work for the money I'm making.

Those paychecks make me so happy. A fabulous birthday surprise was that my direct deposit kicked in, and I got the first two weeks' pay that was missing in September. Happy day!

Friday evening I went out to dinner with my Taiwanese friends. At first I had these great ideas to go to Flushing or Chinatown for Chinese food, but in the end we only wanted to go somewhere close to campus. The food was all right, and we had a good time chatting. I am happy to be hanging out with Mandarin speakers; it is definitely allowing me to get my Chinese back, although I'm still having trouble recalling some vocabulary. With time, I'm sure this will improve. As for my Spanish, I'm afraid I don't practice it as much as I should. In Columbus I had so many friends who spoke Spanish with me, and now it's all English and Chinese. Luckily I do have a Spanish class, for which I have to write in Spanish every week. I do well in the class, but I think that's because I know my limits and don't try to say anything I don't already know how to say. Where I go wrong is when I start trying to be creative with my sentence patterns and vocabulary. Therefore, my homework is always pretty damned simple.

I've discovered that if I were to teach in a two-way dual language program, the kind of program that is best for developing both first and second languages, then I'd probably be the English teacher. That seems to be the case with bilingual ed graduates from my program; the native English speakers teach the English part. In most dual-language programs, students spend one week or day in English and the following week or day in Spanish, Chinese, Yiddish or whatever. Perhaps if I were to go to a high-need school, I could teach transitional bilingual education using the language other than English, but these are not the most ideal programs, since they aim for monolingualism and not bilingualism. In the end, I am reconciling myself to not using Spanish or Chinese in instruction, because I'm not really that fluent in those languages anyway. I certainly wouldn't want students coming out of their grade speaking Jeanne-style Spanglish or Chinglish, having no variety in sentence patterns or vocabulary. And I am not one to object to using English as a medium of instruction in a bilingual ed program; I will still be dedicated to developing bilingualism and working with great primary graders.

Saturday I went shopping. Boy, did I go shopping. I ended up buying a nice fall coat. I bought apples at the farmers' market. Then I waited in line forever at a crowded pet store to buy cat supplies. The sacrifices I make for Tigger and Bibbo! The pampering!

Tonight we caught Tigger scratching the arm of the leather couch. I think I may have to buy that couch at the end of my stay in this apartment.

Saturday night I went out with a friend from my TESOL class, and we met up with other TESOL and bilingual ed students. We went to a restaurant/bar called S.O.B.'s, which is a Brazilian place. They had a good DJ and a crazy Brazilian reggae band. We learned a little bit of samba and Bahian reggae dancing. My cocktail was not impressive, but the dancing was fun, at least until my high-heeled boots started to kill and relegated me to sitting on the railing that separated the dance floor from the bar. I ran into a girl from my college, who did the same junior-year-abroad program in Bristol, England. We had lived in the same dorm there, but we were never great friends, so I hadn't seen or heard from her since college. Isn't it amazing that we graduated from college eight years ago? Sometimes it doesn't seem all that long ago; other times it seems longer.

Sunday I putzed around and basically got very little done. I cleaned a little in preparation for Seena's return from her San Francisco trip, because I had really let it go while having the apartment to myself. Well, all that really means is that I didn't vacuum or sweep as often as usual. I didn't get to clean everything I wanted to; I think I'm turning into a right old domestic, which is good, as most of you know from seeing my rooms in the past. In the afternoon I had to do study group with the Taiwanese girls, was half an hour late, and then I ate dinner with the TESOL class friend, because she lives near me.

I would really have loved to get home earlier Saturday, so that I'm not so tired at the beginning of the week, but I'll just have to take a break this coming weekend. I am supposed to go to a work-related event this Saturday. The program where I work has a partnership with West Point, of all places, and we have all been invited to a tailgate party/football game there. My boss said I am going; the faculty and other staff members are all excited and think it's going to be great fun. Um.... Do they have any idea how ill-suited to my personality an Army football game could be? Do they notice how I never have anything at all to talk about with the Army guys who come into the office? Do they notice how I can never tell them apart, because they're always tall white guys with blond crew-cuts? (Do I sound intolerant? I acknowledge that there is some prejudice here, and I wish I could hob-knob with all types. Perhaps this is something to work on. But really, at this point, what could I talk about with them that would be at all interesting to any of us? They often disagree fundamentally with my liberal-as-hell education, for starters, and I seriously disagree in principle with what their job entails. Plus, I can't stand American football, especially after being at Ohio State. Where can we go from there?) I think I am going to have to be too burdened with schoolwork to go. Unfortunately, that is probably a very real excuse. I have two papers due next week.

Off to bed, then!