New Snow

We went for a nice walk earlier today to Promontory Point to enjoy the sunshine and the fresh snow. It's hard to communicate what it really looks and feels like, but here are some pictures anyway. The walk to the Point is noisy; the streets are busy, and the snow crunches underfoot. But when you get to the lake, the sounds of the water crashing on the rocks drown out the city, and it's peaceful. We saw lots of skinny squirrels and some goldeneyes, diving ducks with beautiful black, white, and red-brown plumage.

A lot of the snow has already melted, but you can see where it has frozen on the shady side of the trees.


For some reason, these structures supporting the man-made lake edge fascinate me. I wonder how old they are. Parts of it look much newer: you can't see any bolts at all, just smooth concrete. The City wants to re-do the whole thing like that, but I hope they don't.


Patrick is doing very well. He loves his research, and is actually disappointed that it's Saturday because it means the archives are closed! I, on the other hand, am grateful for the respite. I worry that I will fail to find the academic/professional satisfaction that Patrick is enjoying. When we browse at the book store, I am struck by my lack of knowledge and expertise in every area, and it seems impossible to find somewhere to begin. I did find an interesting article on ethnic minorities in China; it was in a book that was mostly about Pakistan. What I came away wondering, though, is how is an ethnicity defined? What makes 93% of China's population Han, and what separates the rest? According to the essay, there was no way to say "ethnic minority" in Chinese until the early 20th century. With the Communists came campaigns of assimilation ...

I feel like my interest in education is waning. I have fewer questions now than I did at the beginning, I suppose because I'm currently preoccupied with being frustrated. I am putting less care into my 8th grade class, and it's showing; my lessons are less well-organized, and though I feel this should be an engaging unit with very accessible work, things are just not coming together. On the other hand, I should say that they are; though students' listening skills are no better, they have stayed more on-task lately. It's just a particular project that I assigned too early, and they aren't quite ready for it. And then I think there are wonderful things happening with the 7th graders, but only in one section. The other section can't stop complaining long enough to have a discussion and actually learn something. We discussed this habit itself last Thursday, and I still get worked up thinking about some of the things they said. Two of the girls said that the class was boring, and we just do stuff they learned in 3rd grade--and of course, when I looked at their work afterward, it was sloppy and incomplete, far from demonstrating the mastery they claimed. It made me even more infuriated with them to hear the brave words of another student who responded to them by saying that she was struggling with the work, and she knew she wasn't the only one, and that it wasn't fair of them to keep interrupting instruction because she was trying to learn. Her remarks were inspiring, and in a way, I can't wait for Monday because I am going to kick out half the class if I have to. I will send student after student to the office until it is quiet enough for us to really think together, and maybe then we will be able to come to some of the awesome discoveries that the other class has made.

The odd thing about it is that this all comes at the same time that I feel I have had two important realizations about my work. 1) I may see very little progress, especially socially, but that doesn't mean that the efforts I am making are not having an effect. It's simply that any effect will take years to manifest itself in an observable way. 2) I am actually very lucky to have the students and parents that I do. Even if many of them don't behave as I would like them to, almost everyone really cares about their academic success, and even about what their teachers think of them. These are such great assets.

So much is strange. I've been watching the 7 Up series on DVD; in it, a selection of British children are filmed at 7, 14, 21, 28, 35, and most recently, at 42. The basic question is how much one stage of life reflects on future stages, I guess. At the end of every episode, the narrator says, "Give me a child of 7, and I will show you the man," or something like that. Anyway, I just saw 28, and one of the most striking things is how the people I worried about or disliked when they were 7 have turned out OK. They have healthy relationships, jobs ... it isn't true across the board, I suppose, but overwhelmingly, people are resilient and decent and what more can you ask for. So part of me questions whether my work really makes a difference.

I am feeling very selfish, and I would just like to find something that might or might not make any difference to The World or Society but that would make me happy to do. That would make me excited about getting out of bed in the morning, and keep me up late at night without begrudging my wakefulness. It's only the very, very lucky who find work like that, eh? Maybe teaching will become that for me once I've figured some more things out. I don't know.