Sunday night blues...

Also post-Thanksgiving dinner at which I made the mistake of talking about blogging. Naturally, I was subconsciously looking for familial approval which of course I did not get. I was advised to not blog because I might offend someone, and why am I spending time blogging when I have so much else to do, blah, blah, blah. Well, what did I expect?

If We Ever, Heaven Forbid, Elect a Republican Again...

...at least let it be this one, Howard Mortman. At least I would have a connection to the White House! (old college buddy). He has a wickedly funny blog (yes, I find it funny even though Howard and I never agreed on anything political), too, Extreme Mortman. His doctored image of himself as Sexiest Man of the Year is almost, but not quite as funny as Theo baked into a loaf of bread.

Howard has the honor of being the first Jewish Republican I ever met besides my grandfather, whom the rest of the family just thought of as being politically off his rocker because he was religiously off his rocker (in other words, Orthodox. Now that I am Orthodox I suspect there are members of my family wondering why I'm not Republican yet).

Anyway, having grown up in a heavily Jewish and liberal town, to me being Jewish and liberal/p went hand in hand (in certain respects I still believe this though I'm more middle of the road politically than I used to be). So I was shocked when, in my first month of college, I met Howard, proudly and openly Republican. His older brother, I remember, blamed Howard's politics on teenage rebellion. Anyway, having gotten his start with Bush Admin No. 1 (I think--I mean, this really goes way back), Howard appears to have become a highly successful political commentator. I mean hey, his blog gets REAL ads! Cool!

Life is expensive

Especially when one accounts for a mortgage, property taxes, yeshiva tuition and extra tutoring in Hebrew (but it's all worth it). I've taken on additional jobs--in addition to jewelry making, which I've been doing for a couple years, I might start selling books on Ebay again, and just took on a new freelance editing job for an engineer overseas. I'd rather work like a dog now and have the money in the summer to travel. Although this summer I may just take some continuing ed courses.

And I'm not the only one. Just off the top of my head I can think of a couple dozen women in my community, some who work full time and some part-time, who supplement their income--jewelry, Mary Kay, aromatherapy, kosher gourmet products, Discovery Toys, hats-making, hat-selling, scrapbooking, fancy disposable tableware--you name it. Everyone seems to be on an endless economic treadmill. And all the people I know who do this, including myself, are middle to upper middle class. It's just life, and Jewish life in particular, can get very expensive.

Speaking of expensive, my mother-in-law and I went out to lunch last week. I hopped the train two hours to NYC, where she has an office on Times Square. We went to La Marais, a very expensive kosher French restaurant a) because I keep kosher and because she can't walk that far. It was my plan to "take her out" but after the bill kept climbing (I ordered the cheapest entree, which was $17; hers was $24), a $12 appetizer, two $8 hard drinks (hers), two $4 soft drinks (mine), two $10 desserts, my brain kept going "ka-ching!" She must have read my mind because as I started to take out my wallet, she said, "Oh honey, let me pay for that." I figured since she is close family I could allow this. Though I felt a bit guilty because she's retiring soon and selling her business and isn't sure what to do next. She'll probably move down south because three of her four children live there, but she wants to keep working at something. She's worked hard, and very independently, most of her life. My husband is like her in that respect.

Why school was closed

Overheard from D, the boy who wants me to change him into a reader:

He and another student were examining one of our new DK books on the Titanic. I commented that last week the last survivor of the Titanic had died recently. "When was that?" D asked.
"Last week, I think," I replied.

Then D turned to his friend and whispered excitedly, "Oh, so that's why we had off from school last week!"

I didn't think it would be worth explaining to him about Teacher's Convention week. :)

Roll up your sleeve...

It's time to get my flu shots. I'm very shot phobic and the last time I rolled up my sleeve I had to in order to start grad school, and that was over 4 years ago. But a local drugstore is giving out flu shots today and after I saw one of my second-graders suck on an eraser and then put it back in the collective box, I said, okay, that's it, time to get that flu shot.

Last year I remember one of my kids--a very angry, troubled little boy--jam his entire fist into his mouth while I was reading aloud to his class (I remember this in connection to germ-spreading). One of his teachers later told me that is a sign of abuse. What I also find sad about boys like A and C and J, is that these angry, failing students (third and fourth graders) are like butter when it comes to helping me out in the library. They don't want to do the lesson work, or read, and get easily upset, but if you ask them to reshelve books or sharpen pencils they would willingly do it for hours. They ask if they can help. They want to. When they are helping, all signs of hostility disappear. But they can't substitute menial labor for academic work. I wish I could channel that into making them happier people and better students. For now, just forging a connection, I hope, will help.

My daughter's avatar

...is a fuzzy white puppy. Yes (sigh), I caved. I let her buy a Webkinz.

Barely on the heels of getting an American girl doll from her father (AG dolls among kids we know generally are purchased by grandparents or noncustodial parents), Y started hocking about a new fad. You buy a small, Beanie-Baby like stuffed animal. It comes with a secret code which you then use on the Webkinz website to play games using an avatar of your new pet.

So naturally, she informed me last night that she was "really not so interested in books." So I began reading her Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, which naturally, she got interested in. But as soon as I put it down she wanted to go rushing back the the computer. Clearly, we have a problem here.

Sunday she had a friend over and what did they do? Play on the Webkinz site, of course. Yes, it was social--they were doing it together. This is not going to become a habit, however!

I have to admit that how some of this online activity plays out socially intrigues me. Generally, I don't have much respect for online culture--the addictions, the flaming, IM's poor influence on language, librarians trying to dumb themselves down to get patrons. That being said, I love--and NEED!--the Internet and I've probably kept in better touch with my far-flung friends because of it. I don't think I would have made such a good editor or librarian without a computer--I cannot imagine editing, for example, by typewriter ribbon.

But when I saw Y and her friend T sitting together discussing what to do their avatars, I could see that it was quite social, and in fact once Y had a Webkinz, she and this classmate began interacting more and became friends, and of course they are not only playing on the computer. And as my father says, if Y doesn't take part in these activities and by default learn the skills behind them, she will be at a disadvantage in the work world later. My friend and longtime writing partner Theo, who was also initially skeptical of bloggers and blogging, has also found the social value in it (see his posts on blogging). I would certainly publicize my blog more, or not be anonymous (except to my friends and close aquaintances who would obviously recognize me by my profile) if I weren't worried someone from my school would see it.

Regarding my daughter, I can't help but compare myself at her age--an avid reader--with her relative lack of interest due to electronic media. But we are two different people. And she reads fairly well. It's just that given the choice between reading and something electronic...well...

Reform school

Ooops, I meant school reform.

Actually, what our new principal is doing under the directive of "school reform" makes a lot of sense, and a lot of what doesn't make sense he doesn't have control over (eg., central admin, state inspectors...). As a school in its fifth year of "failing" under No Child Left Behind, we are supposed to "restructure." Actually, this has been taking place for the past year, although we don't know yet, of course, whether it will make our school reach the NCLB-designated "adequate yearly progress" on its test scores. I think the changes under the new principal have been positive--the general consensus among us teachers is high praise for the three administrators--but the fact is we don't have the staffing or financial or infrastructural resources to adequately address our high proportion of English language learners and low literacy students. We just do our best with what we have, we really do.

The latest effort is to create committees to address six aspects of the school: professional development, security, curriculum and instruction, parental involvment, community relations, and technology infusion. At the time I signed up, about half the teachers already had, and I was the only one at that point signing up for the technology committee. I won't be alone though; I'm sure the present and former tech teachers/coordinators will join it. I hope this committee will help in terms of our getting better equipment and my being able to effectively link research with technology instruction.

Oooh, my back

Do you have wrestling books?

Ah, the struggle between being a hip librarian and one who wishes to impart positive values upon one's students...

Last year I got rid of the dozen or so Captain Underpants books, not because I disapprove of them, but because I was sick of every kid obsessing over whether we had them or not. With 1000 kids and 12 copies, they were usually out...and then the kids get disappointed and don't wan to to look for alternative reading. It was just easier to say, No we don't have them.

The other issue was with "wrestling books." Basically, we had about half a dozen biographies of WWF champions, you know, what they call "high interest" books. Which I'm all for. Except, that say, one fifth grader would borrow a book on "The Rock" or "Stone Cold Steve Austin" and next thing you know every boy, from first grade on, wants to borrow "wrestling books," being that their parents plunk them down in front of the TV and its zillion channels (these families get free lunch because they are poor yet every single house has a satellite attached to it).

Well, my first thought was, get rid of the wrestling books too so they stop harping on them. But then I thought, hey, what if I can turn this to the library's advantage...

So, this is the experiment...as part of my newly acquired classroom management skills, I developed an incentive program. Making fake "library dollars" each kid earns them for completing tasks, following directions, good behavior, etc. For every five library dollars earned, the student can choose either to spend it on borrowing a book from the "special shelf" or continue saving it (25 dollars gets a nice prize). Anyway, among the books on the "special shelf" are about 20 "wrestling" books. I use the W word loosely because I also ordered martial arts books for kids (eg. tai chi, aikido or tae kwon do for kids) hoping they might serve as a healthy counterbalance to WWF shenanigans. (Forgive me Theo for lumping aikido in with "wrestling"--it is all for the sake of getting my kids to read! and maybe not worship violence). Anyway, to borrow these books, they have to at the very least not model themselves on "The Exterminator" while they are in the library! Let's see if it works....

Spilling over the porches

Whenever I walk back to my car at the end of the school day--usually parked a block or two from the school--my students--former, present and future, are spilling over the porch railings, ducking in and out of basement stairwells, shouting "Hello, Mrs!" from peeling doorframes and weaving from neighbor to neighbor's house like so many streamers. It's a sight I have only experienced in literature, or the stories of grandparents, of children playing in an urban neighborhood.

Our city is a relatively small one, and the homes of the neighborhood are mainly single or two-family wood-frame from the early 20th century, not apartment buildings or rowhouses.
The area is bordered on one side by the school, a 19th century church and the main drag through the city, on another by the public library and a colonial period graveyard, and another large street that borders public housing. The street I usually park on is pretty safe, but the one parallel has a lot of drug users and a disproportionate number of my special education students.

Anyway, if you walk down these streets on any afternoon, the kids are hanging out on various porches and sidewalks and empty lots, going in and out of each others homes unsupervised. One can say a lot about lack of supervision, but in a way I envy the freedom they have. Nowadays everything is a about "playdates" and you aren't even supposed to let a ten-year-old walk alone during the day. It's so different from when I was growing up, and the generations before had even more freedom to go from house to house or yard to yard spontaneously. My students, blissfully unawares, are in a time warp when it comes to their social lives. In that respect, they're lucky. I say this with a certain amount of reservation--knowing for a fact that registered sex offenders are living in their neighborhood--and yet, there is something in sight of children in spontaneous play that has gotten lost elsewhere.

Dewing away with Dewey

Okay, I'm not going to do away with it entirely. Fairy tales stay 398.2 and poetry 811. But face it, color coding and basic subject arrangements work far better than call numbers in my setting.

It occurred to me last year that even though Dewey is part of the elementary school curriculum--basically starting around second or third grade--a lot of kids just don't get it because decimals are not taught until around fifth grade. Not to mention all the problems with how topics themselves are organized by Dewey--they don't intuitively make sense. I mean, why put spaceships in the machines section when kids are going to look for them under astronomy? Or why put French food in the food section when kids are going to look for it under France?

Not to mention the fact that I do not particularly feel motivated to write about 3,000 different spine labels with Dewey call numbers on them. Plus, I can't teach the kids how to use the electronic catalogue to search for books anyway because of lack of computers for them.

So this year, I'm color coding and following the example of several public libraries, which have been organizing books in the way bookstores do. Apparently this was very controversial. And it's working a lot better. My kids know colors. They can read subject labels. Am I concerned that by doing it this way they will not be able to transfer their knowledge to navigating other libraries? Yes. But my first priority is enabling them to effectively find books in our library in the short time they have there, and getting the books reshelved efficiently so they can find them when they need them.

A Librarian of Valor

Before the Friday night Sabbath meal, the husband traditionally sings his wife a poem, Eshet Chayil (A Woman of Valor). While I no doubt deserve praise after preparing ANY dinner, much less a Sabbath one, after the long workweek, the recitation of Eshet Chayil always makes me feel anxious and guilty. Despite the fact that it is considered allegorical, or possibly Abraham's eulogy for Sarah, if you read it you will understand that no real woman could possibly be that woman of valor. I am always eager to move on to praising G-d, and blessing my daughter, but tend to squirm (inwardly, quietly) during Eshet Chayil.

To deal with my feelings about this, I have written my own version: A Librarian of Valor.
The text of Eshet Chayil is below including Hebrew transliteration, followed by my version:

Eshet Chayil
(A Woman of Valor)

Eshet chayil mi yimtza v'rachok mip'ninim michrah
An accomplished woman, who can find? Her value is far beyond pearls.

Batach bah lev ba'lah v'shalal lo yechsar
Her husband's heart relies on her and he shall lack no fortune.

G'malathu tov v'lo ra kol y'mei chayeiha
She does him good and not evil, all the days of her life.

Darshah tzemer ufishtim vata'as b'chefetz kapeiha
She seeks wool and flax, and works with her hands willingly.

Haitah ko'oniyot socher mimerchak tavi lachmah
She is like the merchant ships, she brings her bread from afar.

Vatakom b'od lailah vatiten teref l'vetah v'chok l'na'aroteiha
She arises while it is still night, and gives food to her household and a portion to her maidservants.

Zam'mah sadeh vatikachehu mip'ri chapeiha nat'ah karem
She plans for a field, and buys it. With the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard.

Chagrah v'oz motneiha vat'ametz zro'oteiha
She girds her loins in strength, and makes her arms strong.

Ta'amah ki tov sachrah lo yichbeh balailah nerah
She knows that her merchandise is good. Her candle does not go out at night.

Yadeha shilchah vakishor v'chapeiha tamchu felech
She sets her hands to the distaff, and holds the spindle in her hands.

Kapah parsah le'ani v'yadeiha shil'chah la'evyon
She extends her hands to the poor, and reaches out her hand to the needy.

Lo tira l'vetah mishaleg ki chol betah lavush shanim
She fears not for her household because of snow, because her whole household is warmly dressed.

Marvadim astah lah shesh v'argaman l'vushah
She makes covers for herself, her clothing is fine linen and purple.

Noda bash'arim ba'lah b'shivto im ziknei aretz
Her husband is known at the gates, when he sits among the elders of the land.

Sadin astah vatimkor vachagor natnah lak'na'ani
She makes a cloak and sells it, and she delivers aprons to the merchant.

Oz v'hadar l'vushah vatischak l'yom acharon
Strength and honor are her clothing, she smiles at the future.

Piha patchah v'chochma v'torat chesed al l'shonah
She opens her mouth in wisdom, and the lesson of kindness is on her tongue.

Tzofi'ah halichot betah v'lechem atzlut lo tochel
She watches over the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness.

Kamu vaneha vay'ash'ruha ba'lah vay'hal'lah
Her children rise and praise her, her husband lauds her.

Rabot banot asu chayil v'at alit al kulanah
Many women have done worthily, but you surpass them all.

Sheker hachen v'hevel hayofi ishah yir'at Hashem hi tit'halal
Charm is deceptive and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears God shall be praised.

T'nu lah mip'ri yadeiha vihal'luha vash'arim ma'aseha
Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates.




A School Librarian of Valor

A school librarian, who can find her? Her value is far beyond checking out books.

Her students’ hearts rely on her and they shall lack no sources for their projects.

She does them knowledge and not ignorance, all the days of her life.

She seeks felt and flannelboards, and works with her hands willingly to make readers theater.

She fields sales pitches from discount booksellers, she purchases only from the most expensive, but district-approved vendors.

She arises while it is still night, to read the latest SLJ and Booklist reviews.

She plans for a collection, and hopes to buy it. With the fruit of her search skills she stretches her ever-decreasing budget.

She checks in 1,000 books a week, and makes her arms strong reshelving them.

She knows students will find the collection good. Her candle does not go out at night as she seeks way to improve it.

She sets her hands to the wayward printer, and holds the book repair tape in her hands.

She extends her hands to the reluctant reader, and attempts to collaborate with reluctant teachers.

She fears not plagiarism, because her students learn information literacy.

She covers the books herself, their clothing is Mylar and Polypropylene.

Her husband is known at the gates, where he sits among frozen food waiting for his exhausted wife to come home.

She makes a book fair to raise funds for the library, and is asked to donate the proceeds to Central Administration.

Kidlit and graphic novels are her clothing, she smiles at the thought of the latest books for the kids.

She opens her mouth to book talk, and the lesson of kindness is on her tongue even to teachers who see “library” as a prep period.

She lets her own household go, and skips lunch so as to not eat the bread of idleness at school.

Her children rise and praise her, the teachers laud her when hell freezes over.

Many librarians have done worthily, but you surpass them all.

Websites are deceptive and those relying solely on Google search in vain, but a librarian who fears the Internet replacing books shall be praised.

Give her an assistant and SmartBoard, and let her works praise her in the gates.

You can imagine how I feel viewing the ALA link to its social issues roundtable. Basically, all the "alternative" links they recommend are to organization that basically support Israel's destruction, not a two-state solution. How is it that an organization like this has let itself get taken over by the loony left? (and mind you, I am left of center on many issues myself).

Here's a link describing some of the actions of the social action roundtable, from Library Journal:

From library school to the school library

I always swore I wouldn't spend time reading other people's blogs, nor blog myself, since I know so many bloggers and people-who-depend-on-blogs whom I'd rather not know.

Now, of course, that I have thrown in the towel and started blogging, I do read other librarian blogs, and I have to say that they give me some reassurance that I am not the only librarian in the world who believes the "shortage" in the profession is a myth; not the only librarian who feels the leadership gets too involved with issues that they really ought to stay out of or at least calm down about; and not the only librarian who feels that the ivory tower has not gone to bat for the real working world of librarianship. Being that it's been just a couple years since I've gone from library school to the school library, I really didn't know.

And the Banned Book Award goes to....the topless mermaid

In honor of Banned Books Week, I hereby bestow this year's award to a poorly translated, weakly illustrated Spanish-language edition of The Little Mermaid.

A parent returned her child's book to the me via the teacher with the message that we should remove this book from the shelves? Why? Because in one corner of one illustration--and they are very, very poorly executed cartoons--the a flatchested mermaid is topless. "Naturally she didn't complain about the lousy Spanish translation," I commented sarcastically, and the teacher laughed in agreement.

But in all seriousness, folks, I'm going to agree with the Annoyed Librarian that BBW is a lot of hysteria.

I myself would add, a lot of hysteria driven by ALA members who believe our children should be exposed to everything and anything in order to make them accept everything and anything. I'm very much a First Amendment proponent, but these people are imposing their own values on the rest of us at times and I find that hypocritical.

I just came across this article by Nancy Wolf, and it makes me glad I work in an elementary school. My daughter's a long way from teenagehood but I cringe at what she would get hold of if I worked in a teen library.



That being noted, I'm annoyed that this Safe Libraries group is obviously aligned with the Right, of which I am not. Can't one be a moderate librarian? Why should everything be a choice between the Anything Goes crowd and Fox News?

Go laminate (it) yourself!

In the Librarian from the Black Lagoon, the librarian laminates you if you talk too loudly (I think...I don't have the copy in front of me). At least her school has a working laminator.

Which brings me to the subject of librarians and technology.

In the self-important, never-ending quest to make our profession relevant, our leadership spends a great deal of time on the subject of technology. As well they should, nevertheless, because it's important to keep up and because there's a lot of great stuff out there. That being said, technology was one of the weaker aspects of my grad program, the expectation out there being "learn it yourself." The problem is I'm not a learn-it-yourself learner. I need someone to teach me. To be fair, there are plenty of workshop opportunities out there. But I need to immediately apply my knowledge--if I don't use it, I lose it. That's what happened in the one good tech class I had...I learned Dreamweaver, but then the school I worked at didn't have it, and was set up so that one couldn't do one's own web editing. That's not unusual.

Those taxpayers can whine about how their money is being sunk into urban schools should actually visit urban schools to get a dose of reality. Actually, not just urban ones--I've seen suburban schools where rooms built to be computer labs have been transformed into regular classrooms because of school overcrowding.

Ideally, technology in a school library looks something like this:

Best case scenario: You have a web-based cataloging system and official, librarian-edited website connected to it. You are attached to a computer lab so you can teach an entire class at a time. You have several working printers, a copy machine, projectors for presentations, and subscriptions to grade-appropriate educational and research databases.

Liveable scenario: You have a software based cataloging system, and enough computers in the library for half the class. You have printers and a projector and a couple of electronic subscriptions.

Poor but still liveable scenario (mine). You have a software based cataloging system and a few rickety computers.

Unbearable scenario: No electronic catalogue or circulation system.


Not having technology, however, does not make my job obsolete, however. If anything, it gives greater emphasis to what is often forgotten in the role of a librarian--to get kids to love reading. Yes, technology is a good hook sometimes. I try to use it where I can. Our new principal, fortunately, is pro-technology and doing his best to improve the school's situation vis a vis computers. But in the meantime, my kids, especially, need the literature component. And I'm quite happy, and quite good at, providing it to them.

Well, that may explain why...

...so many of my kids have trouble processing information.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20071010/ts_nm/toys_lead_dc

It's well known many of the old houses they are crammed into have lead, and of course there is the whole toys-from-China issue. One of my first graders kept whacking himself in the head last year and his teacher said that is a sign of it. And processing directions, I mean, forget it, even my fifth graders can't. Or think they can't. Or aren't paying attention enough to get it. It's something I have to work very hard on in my lessons--making directions clear to them. It's not like dealing with Yvette--as her Hebrew tutor, Mrs. E says, she just "gets it" right away because she's so bright. (She only doesn't get it when she's trying to wiggle out of something).

First, forgive me G-d for using idolatrous imagery.

I can't help it. I'm a writer. Which is why I told Rabbi M. last night that I wanted Husband to come with me to fertility clinic because "this isn't the immaculate conception, you know."

Okay, so here's the statement that inspired me to blog. Apparently one can even purchase this statement on t-shirts and mugs. I love it. I think of it every time some idiot teacher disses me. (actually, I'm thinking of two or three particular teachers--most teachers at my school are not idiots).

So here it is, courtesy of Librarian Avengers:
Why you should fall to your knees and worship a librarian
Ok, sure. We've all got our little preconceived notions about who librarians are and what they do. Many people think of librarians as diminutive civil servants, scuttling about "Sssh-ing" people and stamping things. Well, think again buster.

Librarians have degrees. They go to graduate school for Information Science and become masters of data systems and human/computer interaction. Librarians can catalog anything from an onion to a dog's ear. They could catalog you.

Librarians wield unfathomable power. With a flip of the wrist they can hide your dissertation behind piles of old Field and Stream magazines. They can find data for your term paper that you never knew existed. They may even point you toward new and appropriate subject headings. People become librarians because they know too much. Their knowledge extends beyond mere categories. They cannot be confined to disciplines. Librarians are all-knowing and all-seeing. They bring order to chaos. They bring wisdom and culture to the masses. They preserve every aspect of human knowledge. Librarians rule. And they will kick the crap out of anyone who says otherwise.


Next posting from hellibrarian: How to apply this to a particularly snarky teacher.

Made my fifth grade miserable...

....but only temporarily, I hope. I announced to them today that we were going to start a unit on notetaking, as part of a yearlong emphasis on geography required by their curriculum. "Who likes to take notes?--raise your hand." None went up, which is what I expected. "Notice that my hand isn't raised either," I pointed out. "I hate notetaking. I'll tell you why. Until I was in my 30s"--requisite interruption--'how old are you, Mrs.?' 'Older than you.'--"As I was saying, until I was in my 30s I didn't know how to take notes either. Not when I was in fifth grade. Not when I was in high school. Not in college. And then I had a job where I had to take notes every day. I was a reporter." (I explain what reporter is). I still didn't know the right way to do it. Then I got very lucky--I went to school to learn how to be a librarian, and miracle of miracles---they taught me that there are ways to take notes the right way, and it made my life so much easier." I drop to a conspiratorial tone. "And now I get to pass on this special knowledge to you."

They looked doubtful. I didn't blame them. Because I came late to education, I still struggle with graphic organizers even though they ought to be a no-brainer. "Look," I continued. "I'm not going to promise you you'll come to love notetaking even after I teach ya how to do it. But I can tell you that next year when you're in middle school and you get a big project and all the other kids are going "Duh" (I made a stupid face for emphasis, YOU are going to come out on top because YOU are going to know what to do." Their faces brightened. "And I promise, promise you that I won't use boring textbooks (muted cheering from the peanut gallery) for you to take notes from." Yeah. I'll start with using the book "It's Disgusting and We Ate It: Strange Food Facts from Around the World." Hey, that's geography too.

The Big D

You may wonder about this crowing about the "great new resources." You see, even though I am in a poor school district, have a low budget, and no help, I do, now, have one thing that other schools like mine unfortunately do not have.

A collection.

When I arrived a little over two years ago, most of the collection was from the 1940s to 60s. I ran into my fifth grade teacher last week who is now eighty five and SHE was a student at my school. There were books there from HER time! There were some real gems (please note sarcasm here): Ceylons, the two Vietnams, and my personal favorite: The Clever Hands of the American Negro. Also a book called About Phobias, which basically claimed that girls develop phobias because of an Electra Complex. The teacher who filled in the year before (the school didn't have a librarian for several years) had wisely discarded even more. For a school of about 1,200 kids, we had maybe 20 books on animals, many of them to hard for our kids to read.

Anyway, the year before my arrival, several local organizations working with a bookseller resulted in a donation of 2,000 new books. That was the year before I arrived. But there was no one with professional collection development training to pick then--from what I understand the bookseller made most of the choices in the end and so it was a mixed bag in terms of quality, interest, and connection to curriculum. Then they promised 2,000 more the following year. By then I'd been hired so I got to compile the wish list (after consulting with teachers, students and the curriculum, of course). They sent about seventy percent of what I asked for. Not bad. Then then pledged a final 5,000 more. Again, I got to pick. One adminstrator (who has since left) complained I spent so much time choosing-claiming that she could have done it in a week. Right. I just love people who think they can do your job. Anyway, it was a big job, many long nights, but we now have a fabulous collection. And a professional collection as well. I now have many, many resources for my own teaching. I rebuilt this library for our school community and I'm proud of the job I've done thus far. I just hope they acknowledge that when it's time to give me tenure.

"When are you going to change me?"

I'm trying not to let this blog go the way of all my other writing efforts--dropped. I have off tomorrow for Columbus' Day, and Yvette is back at her school after a week and a half of being off for Sukkot-Simchat Torah. Like most women I know, I am "yontiffed" out--exhausted from the long round of holidays that began with Rosh Hashana.

This is going to be a year of thinking creatively around problems, to say the least. My school's solution for having each class see me once a week is to give me two classes at a time once a day. So with the fourth grade, where this has the greatest impact, I figured out a solution: everything will be done in "centers." So for the past two weeks I've been churning out library games. I think it just may work. Thank God I have excellent new resources now for this.

Note: One of my fourth grades is an "inclusion" class--a very challenging but loveable bunch. One of the kids, D, told me he hates reading, and I promised him I'd change that this year. I said this with great confidence becuase if the new materials I have at my disposal. So the rest of the period, he kept poking at my knee (we were in storytellign corner) and asking, "When are you going to change, me, Mrs.?"

It's moments like that which make me love my job the most, and feel the weight of my job the most. I have to remind myself that while I am very good at what I do, a) I am stretched very thin, b) my kids are so needy and c) I am not a miracle worker.

Back to work today after two days on the south shore of Long Island, courtesy of my friend S. and her daughter who is one of Yvette's close friends. She has one-year-old twins so this was an experiment in whether two adults could shlep two babies and beach paraphernalia onto the beach without dropping dead. It worked, not without difficulty, but once we were on the beach it was great, and the babies were completely mesmerized by the sand. So today I was up to a continuation of putting the library together. Now I'm working through the remainder of Yvette's summer Hebrew assignment with her. Everytime I feel bogged down at work I start getting anxious about finding that balance between keeping up with my school and Yvette's school stuff. Last year I was not terrible about the latter, but didn't quite keep up either. I'm determined not to let anything slide this year.

Daughter has a half-hour Hebrew tutoring session--there's not much one can do in a half hour. I took her to school today to get some work done--she played on the computer with the American Girl website (the dog Coconut, specifically). Hmmm, ten thousand books, most of them brand new and chosen by the Book Selector Extraordinaire, but she has been seduced by a small fluffy white cartoon dog. She is reading well, though. Last week I read The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane (Kate DeCamillo) in its entirety and we were both practically weeping when it was over. It's a wonderful book--a relatively new one in the genre of ficticious animal toy adventures. I'm going around recommending it to all of the mothers--although I wonder how they'd react, if they would at all, to the seeming crucifixion scene (yes, there is one--Edward, the toy rabbit, gets temporarily crucified). I mean, one CAN interpret the scene as a crucifixion, but one doesn't HAVE to.

Book drop

A few days ago, after having a tooth extracted, I was so happy about not being in pain anymore that I decided that as an act of goodwill I should go back to work, even though they don't pay us until Sept. 4. Realistically, if this year--my tenure year--is to go well I need about seven days before school starts to get the library together.

Today I woke up to the local newspaper reporting that my school is one of about a dozen in the county in deep you know what over No Child Left Behind--that the school is in the fourth year of "needs improvement" over the standardized tests. Our gift from George W.--kids are expected to perform well even if they are below 100 IQ or can't speak English and with declining funding to support education. My school, although it made progress last year with a new principal at the helm, has everything working against it--100% minority, mostly poor, 95% Latino, many of them children of undocumented immigrants--and supply budgets of practically zero.


So today I bit the bullet--after all, I am decently paid and grateful for full medical benefits--and spent about $100 (reimbursement doubtful) to rent a pickup and buy an improvised book drop. The Rag Shop was going out of biz so I bought a huge, deep rectangular merchandise cart on wheels. Hauled it to school and will wrap in purple felt and have second graders decorate it the first week of school. If you think NOT having a book drop is not a big deal, try substituting a hodgepodge of milk crates as I had to the past two years--the kids get confused, mixups invariably happen, they grab them out before they've been checked in--in other words, I needed a proper book drop! However, a crappy particleboard book drop from the vendors is about $1,500 and my broke school was not about to hand that over. So I have this great, improvised book drop--all I need are four springs from and a particleboard base from Home Depot, and we;re in business. Yes, I am proud of my resourcefulness. A woman and man we;re helping me load it into the pickup and I explained what it was for, since there are so many people out there harboring the myth that urban schools are swimming in state money. I like to go around busting THAT myth.

Okay, that's it!

I actually walked out of the teacher's lounge today. Scooped up my container of fresh pineapple that my husband had so kindly prepared for me this morning, and walked out, back up the stairs to the library. Did not slam door. Did not cry. I'm 40. Too old for that. But old enough to have learned that I don't have to put up with people scapegoating me. Okay, so I don't have to put up with six hours of 25-plus failing and constantly chattering children, F- ing their papers and worksheets and such, calling up parents and the round of NCLB tests. But I have my job, I do it best I can, and pretty well, and just 'cause I'm not on their grade-level team doesn't mean they should take their frustration out on me, the librarian.

Anyway, now that I've been at this school for almost two years, I should realize that many of my pleasant colleagues scatter to the winds at their lunch period--a couple days ago, for example, L invited me to her secret lunch hangout--"Now that the weather's good I'll show you where I escape for lunch." It was the pavilion in front of the university building a block away. How lovely lunch was, sitting with L outdoors, away from the gossip crowd. In any case, I'm going to try to schedule most of my lunch periods fourth period, when the kindergarten and first grade teachers have lunch. I enjoy their company. The other periods are dominated by the cliques. Who said that school cliques end at Grade 12. Some of the teachers are just as mean! We librarians, of course, have our own crowd...it's just we're scattered among half a dozen schools. We've started having occasional get-togethers, mostly to kvetch.

My school kvetch issues: idiot supervisor (now demoted back to teacher since they eliminated her position, so it's now a defunct issue); lack of book return (books get piled in crates, very messy), must do my own fundraising to get any money for the library, massive middle school classes...but lately, really, the big one is the teacher scapegoating.

Yet, one of my students asked me today if I like being a librarian. I told him I love it. And I was telling the truth. This makes it a lot easier to just get up and calmly walk away when people who don't know what it takes to be a good librarian start picking on me. I know what I do, I know what I'm good at, and I don't need to defend it.