Problems

School is rolling along. I've really been appreciating the Middle School team lately. Shannell, who has been away for a long month on doctor's orders (the same vascular issue that Olympic skater Irina Slutskaya had), is finally back, and we've been having some good conversations. I'm learning more all the time about the school's functions and disfunctions, and how people on different levels are attempting to address both. I'm optimistic about the process.

Matthew from Mississippi had decided to go back, but now he's changed his mind. After getting laid off at the bank, he got another job at a public library closer to where he's living. He'll be making $9.50/hour, 6 hours/day, 5 days/week, and his rent is just $80/week, so he should be fine as long as he has this job. (I congratulated him and said, "So maybe you can start paying us back then, bit by bit?" He seemed happy to agree. We'll see what actually happens; I won't hold it against him if he doesn't.) He really doesn't want to go back to the South, he says; his people aren't there anymore, and it feels like a land full of strangers. Plus, he wants to pursue his GED, something he doesn't know how he would do back in Biloxi (again, the limitations of illiteracy).

He came over looking for some food to tide him over to his next paycheck. Patrick talked to him a bit, trying to clarify what happened after the hurricane, and expressing his frustration that there was no end to these donations of food and money in sight. Matthew was very understanding and told Patrick he was a good friend, and that he wouldn't be calling on us anymore except to say, "I'm still alive." Patrick also acknowledged that it must not be "fun" to have to call on us the way he has been. Then Patrick offered to take Matthew to the grocery store, since we don't have his kind of food in the house. At that, some red flags went up in my mind, and I put my foot down. I said something about how it wasn't an issue of generosity or some kind of personal thing, just of our needs at this point, and we could give from what we had at home at that was that. Patrick is working on his seminar paper right now, I'm working on my grades (due at midnight), we've already been to the grocery store today, and I just don't see accommodating someone every time they ask for something as a good way to show that you don't want them to ask you for stuff anymore. So I packed up some cans of corn, mac and cheese, cereal, fruit, kidney beans, and snack bars and sent Matthew on his way.

Patrick tells me that I was mean, but not to an unjustifiable degree. For my part, I feel like someone has to play the bad cop, and it's easier for me than for Patrick; also, my thinking has evolved to a point where I don't equate mean with cruel, and I think that sometimes a little bit of meanness, or hardass-ness might be a better term, goes a long way. Perhaps I'm also just fed up with being taken advantage of. Not always in deliberately manipulative ways, and not just by Matthew. But it seems like too many people think they can take a mile if you say you'll give an inch, and on some things, I'm not willing to give an inch anymore. Or I want to be really clear that an inch is an inch. I hope that makes sense. Thank you, Chicago Public Schools.

If that doesn't give you food for thought, chew on this: the most common misspelling of the word "problem" amongst my students is "promble." A handful of girls, in different grades and different sections, consistently spell it this way. I have no idea why.