Posts Tagged ‘life’

my job

June 10th, 2010

I came into work today. I had an extra 10 or so minutes before students would show up. I sit down and continue reading my novel (In the Hand of Dante, Nick Tosches; pretty good in certain chapters). I always make it a point to sit in an empty classroom and read. students walk in on me and I think that sends a good subliminal message and sets a good example.

my student comes in. he says, “I’m not going to the prom tonight.” I give him a puzzled look and he repeats, “you may have heard there’s a prom tonight. well, I’m not going.” I ask why, fully expecting him to say he was too shy to ask anyone out and fully expecting to commiserate. “I have to attend a funeral. some time last week, my cousin was going to a party and this guys pulled up and they had machine guns.” these are the first sentences I have heard all day.

this is also the first time I’ve seen him since he took the SATs on Saturday. we talk about that a little; he felt ok about his essay, using 1.5 examples when I told him to use 3. he felt great about the verbal because a lot of the words we crammed the day before were on the test. I ask if he wants to talk about anything else, implying if he wanted to talk about his cousin (I’m not a guidance councilor, I’m not equipped to have these discussions). he says no and we do regents prep work.

instead of the usual setting, I have him stand in front of the chalkboard alongside me. kind of like in Tae Kwon Do, when we practice side by side instead of face to face. he still gets a lot of it wrong; thinks he can do everything in his head; doesn’t write equations down; misplaces a term here and there. he doesn’t think computationally like I do, which is appalling because math is his best subject and he wants to be a computer programmer.

it’s a little ridiculous what we’re doing, in wake of what has happened. why does it matter that the area of a triangle is 1/2 base times height instead of just base times height when someone who shares his mother’s maiden name got shot last week? but I am not a social worker; don’t ever want to be. even though they do good work, it’s so very depressing. also, his only key out of that neighborhood is college, even if it’s only for 4 years (or, in his case, 2). that’s 4 years he won’t get shot at.

we’ll see.

necessary

May 17th, 2010

Make yourself necessary to somebody.

–Ralph Waldo Emerson

children

May 17th, 2010

All children are foreigners.

– Ralph Waldo Emerson

a single moment

May 17th, 2010

Any life is made up of a single moment, the moment in which a man finds out, once and for all, who he is.

– Jorge Luis Borges

Advice for Haitian Boys

March 16th, 2010

Advice for Haitian Boys
“Something like 40 to 50 percent of the population at Port-au-Prince is kids.”

Girls’ skirts will open for nothing, for a song
just loud and long enough to minus out
the scratch of zipper teeth and second thoughts.
Don’t bother with names. By morning, you should be gone.

At funerals, drink rum you cannot afford.
Cry, if you need to. Piss circles around the bodies.
Pummel anyone who questions your right to grieve.
There’s no excuse to outsurvive the dead.

And sometimes loss comes vaster. Whole cities fall,
bloodlines sever. There will always be some stranger
to vacuum up the dust and pour paint thinner
on the stains. You won’t have to do a thing at all.

They’re wrong. A man’s reach should not exceed his grasp.
Don’t plan ahead, don’t think things through. Don’t ask.

promotion

February 26th, 2010

I wasn’t going to blog about this but I read (still am reading) a heated debate on Fark.com about teachers and performance and salaries and firing and … the age old stuff. I can’t really weigh in on the subject considering I’ve never been directly employed by the BoE, never had to work within the “system”. that being said, I’ve been teaching / tutoring for 8 years, in martial arts (2.5 years), computer science (4 years), and highschool math / English (2 years)

I gave a student a promotion test on Wednesday for his orange belt in Tae Kwon Do. I’ve only ever given 1 other promotion test and that was to a 3rd / 4th grader who had me for 1.5 to 2 years. this was a high school student who had me for 1.5 years already. it was a pretty intense test, up to the caliber of the promotion tests I took under Master Orlove. (perhaps my memory distorts the truth; maybe my tests weren’t that hard, maybe they were). about 50 minutes into it (I was aiming for about a 60 or 70 minute test), he says “Mr. Chin, I don’t feel so good. I feel dizzy.” I had him at a stationary fighting stance; I was pushing him physically pretty hard and decided to give him a “rest”; asking questions and testing him on his intellectual knowledge before continuing his physical testing. most students get winded like that and I thought it was a minor thing. it wasn’t. after a minute or 2, I wised up, walked over to him (I had spent the entire 60 minutes behind a desk, scribbling notes, being unattached, academic, and intimidating, like I how I had been tested), and inquired further. I told him to take a knee and when that didn’t help much, to lie down on the floor.

he pushed himself so much to meet my expectations that he put himself in physical harm. he committed. what really made my day was after a while, I asked if he wanted to continue. he had been doing phenomenally up to this point, banging out his pushups, his kicks, and his Korean language without complaint and pretty much flawlessly. I was ready to cut the test short, continue a few days later. I was proud when he said yes, he’d like to continue. I was even prouder when, after literally 3 minutes of continuing, he admitted he can’t continue. it showed that he is determined but also honest.

he propped up against a wall, I ran to grab a bottle of water for him, and spent the next 15 minutes telling him horror stories about my own promotion tests. how I was basically crippled after running the Law Tower my first time but pushed on anyhow for the 2nd day of testing; how 1 time, close to my black belt test, I felt dizzy just like him, excused myself to vomit, rinsed out my mouth, and continued the test. I gave him a flyer for my Tae Kwon Do club at Brooklyn College; he’s graduating this year (everyone in the school is, it’s being closed down) and hopefully will be going to college next year. he didn’t apply to BC but to a lot of CUNY schools.

it means a lot to me, a marker / reward of my ability to teach. his neighborhood is not a good 1. there are gangs in the school, probably worse things I don’t know about. I went on a field trip with his classmates 1 time and I learned that 1 of the students is an expecting father. he was 17, didn’t know water came free in restaurants. that’s the kind of environment my student is in and to think I inspired him so much to commit so hard to something that, in the scope of his academic education, doesn’t matter much, is … bewildering.

his grades are not the best. he’s struggling with math; he blames it on his math teacher, which I don’t think is completely a cop out, because he goes to after school math tutoring very regularly. I’m considering, in the last few months, that instead of teaching Tae Kwon Do, I would help him with his school work. I’d have to brush off my high school math, but that shouldn’t be too hard. as a graduating senior, he’s doing work I was doing my freshman year. (I know I got lucky and went to a good high school. I don’t take that for granted.)

I am a good teacher. back when I was tutoring computer science in Boston, I turned uneasy 75′s into sure 90′s. the tutoring service was free for students but I was so effective that a few students paid out of pocket to get extra time; that people were recommending me to their friends. I remember 1 girl, 1 of the first I tutored, who started out as a complete technophobe. by the end of the semester, I got her so interested in computers that she wanted to take a computer apart and poke at the internals. for fun.

more recently, last year when I was also teaching poetry at my high school, we did workshops 1 class. poetry was never really popular so my classes were always small (3 to 6 kids) but this was a particularly small day. 1 student. I spent the entire period workshopping his work, as my (outstanding) teachers taught me how to workshop. at the end of the period, he didn’t want to leave. he ditched his English class to stay while I taught him English. it wasn’t to get out of doing work, etc., but because I was giving him sincere and quality attention.

even more recently, I had a student in my Pace class come up to me. she has only been taking Tae Kwon Do for a month so far. we’re really only now moving on from the basics. she told me that her schedule next semester will be overloaded and that could she still audit the class for free (I, of course, said yes). this is phenomenal considering so many things. (A) it’s more of a recreation class than anything. (B) she’s not only thinking a semester ahead, but an academic year ahead. she basically said that 7 months from now, she still wants to be taking Tae Kwon Do. (C) I haven’t taught her anything other than the basics yet. it made me smile (wide) and when she thanked me for letting her audit, I thanked her for her dedication.

twice, in my kids classes at NYU, of which I have only taught 6 or 7 classes so far, a kid has said “Tae Kwon Do is a pretty fun sport.” the first time, it took me by surprise because it was a student who had trouble focusing, who acted out. he was particularly bad 1 class but at the end, he stood there, in his uniform, and said it completely unexpectedly. him and his father stopped by my class last week; said they were taking a break, trying out new sports, but might come back next year. the second time was a different kid, both of them were about 6 years old.

I am a good teacher; I think I want to teach for a long time in the foreseeable future. I do want to work in the public schools, where good teachers are needed. preferably with high school or middle school students; I can do more with them than the K-5. I’m willing to accept the stress and poor public view. I do want to teach college level courses also but feel (or intuit) that a few years in high school or middle school will teach me quite a few things I won’t learn anywhere else. I want to teach Tae Kwon Do less (my body just can’t handle 6 to 8 hour days of teaching and training). I’d love to teach poetry; also love to teach English, though that’s scary cause I’ve never taught a class like that, where we discuss novels and such. it’s weird, but I would LOVE to teach math or computer science.

I’ve been reading the article on Fark for an hour and a half. been writing this post for an hour. there are a lot of issues tacked on to the Board of Ed, the system for hiring / tenuring teachers, unions, etc. I have my own views that I’m not going to share, partly because I don’t feel qualified and partly because my views include that all sides are right to some degree and arguing won’t change anything.

1 last thing I want to say about teaching: it’s scary. often, 10 or 15 minutes before teaching a class (especially the first class of the day), I have panic attacks. when a student fails to learn or when I teach something incorrectly or when I don’t teach something in the most efficient and effective way, I feel like it’s an act of betrayal. sometimes I dream about an easier job, like stock boy or something.

The Dining Philosophers Problem

February 8th, 2010

The Dining Philosophers Problem

We talked how fresh new dancers talk: code words
unlocked the unvoiced sentiments that were
too large to fit between our shorted breaths.
My father never made me learn Chinese
and always left his English back at work
but still our ears had found an easy peace
although his golden wisdom passed like sand
through the pinched middle of an hour glass.

For years this slow art worked out well for us
until I went to college out of state.
My need for token talk had come apart
like ants that spiral and who march too far.

His mind, the battered gate, is worse today.
He will forget the name of common things
like dinnerware or children whom, now old,
he leans against to lead him back to home.
We talk how wintered dancers talk: no words
at all or to each others collarbones.

punctual as the stars

January 8th, 2010

the most influential poet in my life, especially in my formative years, is Agha Shahid Ali. I was lucky enough to encounter him early, as little as 2 or 3 months after I started. he is responsible for my tone and texture as well as my love of forms and reverent attitude toward other poets.

a few years ago, I was pleasently surprised to find Ali quoting James Merrill in a poem. Merrill is also another poet that I modeled myself after. it was like God (or fate or the Holy Spirit etc etc) had conspired to give me this brotherhood of mentors, coalesced before my birth and coming to me discretely yet in coordination.

I was very surprised to come across the metaphor “punctual as stars” when reading Ali the other day. a scant month before, I had written those same exact words (I lie; I had written “punctual as /the/ stars”) while describing a chessboard and how its armies are always reset at the start of a match (Ali was describing something else). to find these words, from a hero of mine, replicated was revelating. I felt touched by the godhead through ink and paper. it may have been a coincidence, a mere play of statistics, but I haven’t come across those words before. it is a sign that perhaps poetry was a good decision and that, perhaps (perhaps!), I’m coming into my own in poetry.

2010 Resolutions

December 31st, 2009
  1. Be a good person
  2. Never be late for anything
  3. Continue trusting people
  4. Have as much fun working with kids as I used to have
  5. Be better to girls
  6. Be an outstanding teacher
  7. Be a great poet
  8. Get in tip top shape
  9. Dedicate to Brooklyn College Tae Kwon Do
  10. Fill each hour with something meaningful
  11. Stop relying on parents
    1. Start giving back to parents
  12. DON’T give money to charity
  13. Read more
  14. Connect and keep in touch with old friends
  15. Be a good person
  16. Simplify
    1. Simplify
    2. Simplify

Flop, Turn, River

November 22nd, 2009

Flop, River, Turn

The gnash their shoulders just
from standing close to one another.
The heat of bodies and now blood
corralled against the lime dust.
Protect the spectacle.
They bark into their fists
a language inbred with fury.

There, a topography
of dollar bills whose peaks
shift in between rounds.
There’s nothing left to wager except sometimes
favors from their women.

Punch up in victory, punch arms
to give good luck, punch inside pockets
to fight off the cold, punch down bets,
punch out lights if someone cheats,
punch losers in the back of the neck.

The contenders fight naked and shiver
more from the cold than the gore
in their mouths. It’s hard
not to swallow. Above
the babbling bramble, someone says
Check out my human! He’s as big
as a fucking cock. Another: Mine’s
a pure bred spic!

When we are dead and gone,
the dogs will throw dice instead and move on.