a/k/a Mostly Gratuitous Entry!
a/k/a Best To Move Along, Seriously!
I woke up early on Saturday and drove to Sacramento, CA, to make up some professional development hours which I, uh, accidentally missed last week. This was also my first visit to the area since I unceremoniously evicted myself two years ago so I thought I'd lump in as much nostalgia as eleven hours would allow.
Keynote: From Survival To Success
Francisco Reveles came up in the streets of Segundo Barrio, Texas. At the end of his keynote he announced his candidacy for California State Superintendent. His talk, therefore, wandered purposefully along the path from that first sentence to the second.
For my money, he is the only sort who oughtta run a gang-beleaguered school, the sort who pushes past reactionary responses (eg. more enforcement more enforcement more enforcement), who recognizes that gangs fulfill specific psychological needs for their membership (eg. actualization, power, structure, camaraderie), who then deploys school resources to satisfy them, .
His whole keynote served largely to tease his later breakout session but one remark stood alone: "teachers with low expectations for their students are the most frequent victims of assault."
Twitter Interlude #2
Breakout Session: Pop Art Stencils
Awesome and useless! I can't believe I scored PD hours for this one.
You take a photo and trace out its shadows, midtones, and highlights onto separate sheets of cover stock. You cut them into separate stencils, lay them down one by one, and spray on black, gray, and white. Awesome.
No way this ever figures anywhere into my classroom but
- it made for great reflection. This is, after all, exactly how I see teaching: on first blush an overwhelmingly complicated job which anyone can then disintegrate into smaller, more manageable tasks (tasks, which, once upon a regrettable time, I dubbed "slices"), and
- whatta mother's day gift!
The Road Mix
I rolled through Davis, CA, past Fountain Circle Apartments, Alvarado Ave., 7st St., Anderson Rd., and anywhere else I ever spent more than twenty minutes in college. I realized I was old enough to have taught some of the undergrads running around and cursed.
I saw my old friend, Josh Yoon, drive by in a Honda and flipped a u-turn as he parked only to realize as he got out of his car that he wasn't Josh, rather, another Asian guy who looked only somewhat similar. I acknowledged that the nostalgia (and careless racism, let's be plain) was hitting my head a little hard, cursed again, and moved along.
Twitter Interlude #3
On my way out, I stopped by my old mentor's office, looking to share news of the largest return on his investment, the most recent, most curious development in his protégé's short career. But he wasn't around, so I beat a path out of my past and returned home.