“I Give You Two Weeks.”

Please welcome my newest guest blogger, Amy Hofmann.  Amy lives and works in Philadelphia, PA at Penn Wood Middle School where she inspires seventh and eighth graders with her brilliance as a librarian.  She has a dry sense of humor, likes a good beer, and is a proud member of the redheaded population (see photo at bottom of article).  Amy and I met as neighbors in Lancaster, PA shortly before I moved to Seattle.  We have been friends for almost 13 years, despite 12 of them being spent on opposite sides of the country.

Here she shares her shocking entry into life as an inner-city school librarian.  Names, except Amy’s, have been changed.

Fact: The Philadelphia school system is one of the worst in the nation.  The Southwest region, in particular, contains some of the poorest schools in a largely failing district.  The statistics on school violence, poverty, inept teachers and failing students are vast.

True or False:  Fresh out of graduating with a degree in library science, I got a job in the Southwest region Philadelphia school system.

Answer:  Undeniably, this is very, very true.

Allow me to regale you with some of my real life experiences working in the trenches.

My Introduction to William F. Harrity School

I started work at Harrity in early February of 2009.  I walked in the first day and was promptly told that I would have to pick up the 7th graders from the playground and bring them to their classroom to teach them, since the library was being used by a second grade whose classroom had flooded a few weeks before.

Sure, that makes sense: teach library and research skills in a classroom where there are no books, encyclopedias or computers to support the lessons.

So I made my way up to the third floor with 30 children who were, for the most part, much larger than me and most definitely more street smart than me.  We tolerated each other pretty well, until one of them walked himself out of the classroom.

I followed, telling him to come back in.  He turned around.

“Who you?” he said.

“I’m Ms. Hofmann, the new librarian, why don’t you come on back into the classroom?” I replied.

“Pshhh.”  He looked me up and down.  “I give you….hmmmmm….two weeks.”  And he was gone.

Seriously?  Is this Dangerous Minds?  What in the world have I gotten myself into?  Ahh yes, but then I was still fresh, un-jaded, and ready to take on the kids the rest of the world had already cast aside.  “I’ll conquer this,” I thought, “no big deal.”

Right.

Flash forward to the end of March.  I have regained control of the use of my library, it’s a Friday afternoon, and I once again have the 7th grade giants (I say giants because I’m now teaching in a school with real, age-appropriate 7th graders.  I’ve concluded that I was actually teaching 17-year-old 7th graders at Harrity.).

In order to keep everyone calm, I told them that they could have free time.  This lasted for about 30 minutes, until Marcus came over and told me he needed to tell me something in the hallway.  Well, I may have been brand new, but I wasn’t stupid.  I told him whatever he needed to tell me, he could tell me in the library.  He compromised with talking to me in the back of the library, where, “it was private.”

The next thing I knew large, wooden chairs were flying through the air, tables were being pushed up against the book shelves and a full fledged girl-fight had erupted.  I quickly ran to my phone to call the office– where of course, no one picked up.  After three frantic calls with no response I grabbed my cell phone and called 911, shaking the whole time.

Finally, our lone security officer arrived with a principal in tow.  As soon as they showed, I hung up on 911 and ran to the aid of a teacher who’d tried to break up the melee and found herself sliding face first across the carpet and missing a shoe.  Administration lined the students up and then called for more principals (we had three).  Then they personally escorted each student out of the building and off of school grounds.  Meanwhile, I was shaking and 911 was still calling me back asking me about my emergency.

You’d think that the large-and-in-charge 7th graders would be the worst of my problems.  If only that were true.  Instead, the biggest thorn in my side came in the form of one of the smallest children in the school.

My Introduction to Saif

Saif Halston was the fastest, sneakiest, and one of the smartest third graders in the school.  The first day I taught his class he decided he wanted nothing to do with the reading of How to Eat Fried Worms and decided instead to clean out his desk.  I responded by removing his desk from his reach.  Of course, this display of authority made him really happy, so he got up and ran out of the room.

I thought that was a problem.

Turns out getting him to leave when I wanted him to was even harder.  His class was one of the worst in the school and constantly spent their library period running around the room, crawling under tables and generally wreaking havoc.

(I would have said they were the worst, but that honor goes to the 4th grade class who lost library privileges altogether for throwing large dictionaries across the room at each other.  They’d been through  three teachers by the time I showed up in February, the first of whom had been incapacitated due to a stroke at age 40…you put the rest of the pieces together.)

Saif often terrorized me by refusing to leave when his class’s time was (finally) up each day, choosing instead to climb up the book shelves and run around the perimeter of the library on top of them.

Reread that last sentence and then think back to your experiences in a library.

One day as I dismissed my final class and walked them outside, I forgot to lock the door to the library.  I came up to find the projector on, displaying some sort of music website, with the speakers blaring hard core rap.  Saif and his little crony were jumping from table to table and of course, refusing to leave.  After several failed attempts trying to get them to leave, I decided it was time to default to my last resort:

Kidnapping.

That’s right.  I spied Saif’s silent little brother, a kindergartner, and also probably the most precious thing in the world to Saif, taking in the insanity from a corner.  I walked up to him, held out my hand and said, “Come with me.”  He said nothing, but reached his tiny little hand up to mine.  We headed out the door.

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY LITTLE BROTHER!!!” I heard Saif shout. Victory was mine.  Saif was off the tables and out the door after me faster than I thought possible.  I quickly released Kumar’s hand and ran back in the library, pulling the locked door quickly shut behind me.  They slammed their bodies into it a few times, but eventually tired of it and went home.

This was my real life, folks.  My “normal” day-to-day.  I had resorted to kidnapping small children in order to get what I wanted.

Saif spent most of his time at school “running the halls.”  Because of this, he was often suspended from school for breaking the rules.  However, because he was, at age 8, pretty much solely responsible for his 5 year old brother, he came to school every day anyway, to drop him off.  Then he’d sneak into the building and hide out for a while until the halls cleared and then would start running around again, causing chaos in just about every classroom.

Eventually, the administration realized that Saif’s daily runs were actually a problem.  Since he was pretty much the fastest creature on Earth, they came to the decision that instead of wasting their time trying to catch him, they would send the 7th graders who had a penchant for wandering out after him.  Besides, those boys could pick him up and sling him over their shoulders, kicking and screaming, without fear of a lawsuit against them.

Makes perfect sense, right?

I am sad to report that Saif didn’t make it through until the end of the school year.  About two weeks prior, he was once again suspended for cutting class and running the halls.  The following is an excerpt from an email I sent to a friend regarding the incident:

Best Harrity news of the day?  Saif was suspended today…showed up…like always…and they found him…

On the roof.

I heart Harrity.

I guess he wanted to make sure I’d never forget him.

He succeeded.

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Filed under AwkWORD (Humor)

Buttock Cheek Gashes? Seriously?

Last week I was having coffee with a friend and we were swapping stories of the ridiculous ways people find our respective blogs.  We both started our blogs in May 2009 (total coincidence), and since then we’ve been entertained by the searches that bring people to our sites.

It’s no lie that a percentage of our readers find our blogs purely via Bing/Google as they’re on their way to finding something else.  It’s also not a lie what they type into that little search box; in most cases, it’s just my name or the name of my blog.  In many cases, I’m embarrassed for them.  Let me show you why…

A List of the Most Bizarre Search Engine Terms that Lead to My Blog

chicken feet got paralyzed
You paralyzed your chicken?!  Shouldn’t you be searching for a tiny chicken cast?

sliced my leg
You might want to get off the computer and get to a hospital.

things that become engulfed
Ew.

airplane etiquette switching seats
By far the most searches that lead to my site are about etiquette (besides the searches for the blog name or my name).  Especially airplane etiquette.  Keep in mind next time you fly that everyone around you is watching your etiquette.  Thoughtful?  Absolutely.  Pressure?  Huge.  

buttock cheek gashes
I don’t know which bothers me more — the fact that this person is using a search engine rather than a medical facility, the fact that I can identify, or that it’s plural.

women attaining the learning of her husband
The archaic Bible-sounding searches never fail to creep me out.

like yoga hate downward facing dog
In other words, “I like a toned body but hate working out.” 

moms under table no panties
Can’t…even…form…response.

man woman champagne
I’ll leave you two alone.

chicken’s foot seems to be paralyzed
How many people have paralyzed chickens!?  And honestly, how can you tell the difference between a functioning chicken foot and a paralyzed one?  Last I recall, most chicken feet are pretty tough little suckers. 

boyd’s bear named abby
THE HORROR!  THERE BETTER NOT BE A BOYD’S BEAR WITH MY NAME ON IT!

good word for unattractive
Fugly.

person who is good with words
And you chose my site?  Aw, shucks. 

michael reph
Um, will the woman who is Googling my husband please step forward?

whistler and blackcomb belly laugh and
This is just weird because someone lifted a sentence from my blog and then tried to search for it.  You think I plagiarized?  Why would I steal mediocre writing when I can just do it myself?

abby reph good writing
That one is always good for the ego.

arrivederci response
Good to know people are looking to me for help with their Italian.

how to write awkward email to acquaintance
If you really want it to be awkward, I’m sure you can accomplish that all on your own.

chilran reph muvi
I can only assume this was somehow taking my surname in vain.  In which case, how dare you!

Next week a new guest blogger makes her debut, regaling us with tales of working in the inner city school system of Philadelphia.  Trust me, you won’t want to miss this one.

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Filed under AwkWORD (Humor)

The 2010 Olympics: A First-Hand Account

What kind of a blogger would I be if I didn’t head directly to the source of the hottest thing around and give you a full report?

May I present:  The 2010 Olympics, A First-Hand Account.

And what better way to showcase the Games than by award?  Here I will rate each aspect of our experience on the gold/silver/bronze spectrum.  We traveled to Whistler, BC with Phil and Rachel Goodman (Mike’s sister and her husband).

They win the first gold medal for best traveling companions:

Bronze Medal for Obligatory Tourist Photo in Whistler Village:

Silver Medal for Encounter with Celebrity Gold Medal Athlete Bode Miller at Men’s Super G Event:

Gold Medal for Getting Actual Olympic Athlete to Hold Our Stuffed Animal (Rachel gets ALL the credit for swallowing her pride to achieve this feat):

Gold Medal for Witnessing a US Gold Medal Win (Four Man Bobsleigh) While Standing at the Finish Line:

Silver Medal for International Cell Phone Charges Due to Friends and Family Texting to Say They Saw us on TV at Bobsleigh Event: See video here (at about 3:27).

Silver Medal for Managing to Stay Upright During Blizzard (Rachel, shown here, kicking serious tail):

Now let’s talk about the nighttime activities.  Few things make one feel as wild as being at a once-in-a-lifetime event.  That is all I will say about the following photo except to add that despite appearances, very minimal drinking actually occurred this evening.  Laura (in pink) and Annie (in blue), my dear friends who were also in the Village for the Games, pulled me (in black) in for some fun.

Gold Medal for Olympic-Fever-Induced Dancing on Bar:

Bronze Medal for Most Bizarre Winter-Themed Party in Village (a bar made of ice, complete with glasses carved out of ice, and complimentary parka upon entry, as shown by Mike and Laura):

By far the most exciting event was the US/Canada men’s hockey game, the final event of the Olympics.  We joined Annie, Laura and some insane Canadian fans at Garibaldi’s to watch the game.  We fully represented in our tiny corner of the bar:

Despite a fantastic, blood-pumping rally by the US with their goal to tie the game, the Canadians won and madness ensued:

We were almost fearful to leave the bar, given that we were the official enemy.  But what we never expected, not in a million years, was that as we took to the streets to face the throngs of victorious Canucks, we were treated like celebrities — or circus freaks, depending on how you look at it.  We stood in the middle of the Village and not one minute would pass without people coming up to take their photo with us, to thank us for coming, to tell us that we were good neighbors and good sports.  We were blown away.

On second thought, it might have had something to do with the hats.

Occasionally someone would gloat obnoxiously, but we were intentional about being the first to extend a hand and say, “Congratulations on your win!”  They would always react the same tail-between-the-legs way — “Huh?  Oh, yeah man, good game!  We love you guys!”  We felt like Goodwill Ambassadors for the United States; the six of us were representing 300 million US citizens, so we were on our best behavior.

They even wanted us to pose with their Canadian dogs!  Please disregard small child with finger in nose.

I’ve never felt such effusive international camaraderie.  We didn’t want it to end.  We kept thinking, “How will we ever feel this way again?”  And then it occurred to us…

Gold Medal for Being Fully Prepared for the 2014 Olympic Games in Sochi, Russia:

 

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Filed under One WORD (Current Events)