Reading Between the Lines of the Teaching Profession

Me with Reidsville teacher Ms. Parker

Elementary class at Reidsville School

Reidsville Elementary

To Teach or Not To Teach?

Ever since I was a small child, I have wanted to follow in my mom’s footsteps and become a teacher. As a child, I loved going to her classroom after school and hearing her stories about her students. Through watching her enjoyment of teaching, I began to realize that teaching was something I might would like to pursue. During my senior year of high school, I worked as a teacher’s apprentice at Reidsville Elementary School. Seeing ABC’s and math facts covering the walls, hearing the little giggles of children, and watching the satisfied expressions on children’s faces when they completed tasks were some of the many things that I loved about working in an elementary school classroom. I thoroughly loved my job, and the experience helped me to look more towards becoming a teacher. Teaching is something that seems to come naturally to me. I have always enjoyed spending time with children, and when I am in the classroom I do not feel like I am working because I love being there. I especially like watching the children grow and become excited about learning new things. I am strongly considering becoming a teacher; I want to motivate my students as my mom has done.

I struggle with the decision as to whether or not to become a teacher because even though the pay is low, the enjoyment is worthwhile. Teachers receive love from their students, the satisfaction of seeing growth in their students’ academics, and making a positive impact in a child’s life. I think one of the most important things with any career is that you enjoy what you do.

My goal in researching a local elementary school is to make sure that I want to become a teacher. I want to view the teachers’ workload and their enjoyment of their job. They are the experts in the profession, and I want to take advice and knowledge from their many years in the field. I am curious to know if they had known the demanding pressures and requirements of becoming a teacher, if they would still choose teaching as their profession. I want to know their personal pros and cons of being teachers while I observe them in their classroom.

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I really enjoyed coming to California, and became a multilingual person. I speak three Chinese dialects, English and a bit of French. When I first came here, I was homesick due to not understanding the language. ABC [American-Born Chinese] kids were racist against me, but I was used to it since Chinese teachers were racist against me too. Even when I was in elementary school, my English level was that of the level of a two year-old. But I told myself that I would learn the language, and I would be proud of myself.

So I spent that was twice as hard and set goals to learn English. Then, they treated me with such respect, because they were surprised how good my English is. Later I had more friends, because my English is so much improved. I can finally be treated with more respect. I like the teachers here, for one thing they never made fun of me, or put me in the spotlight for not being academically challenged enough.

I realized even people who were born here need my help on their English essays, which made me feel very worthy. I love to help anyone whose English is not so great. I also understand homesickness and learning a new language is not easy for Asian international students- it’s never easy. But I’m very happy to help them out, because I can relate to them. It’s especially not easy for them to leave their parents, and live with others or live as a university student by themselves. Asian students learned how to be independent, instead of interdependent. Right now I teach Mandarin, I always told my students not to give up on learning a new language. Being bilingual is very fun.

The Funeral

NOW

We all knew it was coming; we’d been waiting for it for over two years. Weekly visits to the hospital or down the dirt roads that lead to his old, musty recliner could suddenly be canceled. Sundays could once again belong to naps and lazy afternoon reading instead of guarded conversations and whispered judgments. These were the plusses, the silver linings that came after the storm, after the tears, and after the realization that Papa was really gone this time.

I had always wondered how they would tell me. Would it happen when I was home one weekend and we’d all rush to the hospital together, our good-byes stuck to the tips of our tongues and our fingers reaching out for each other’s? Or would I get a phone call early one Tuesday morning, too close to sleep to comprehend the news and too far away to make it back in time for my tears to matter? In the end, neither scenario came to pass, and the reality of such a loss hit harder than any morbid daydream ever could.

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Welcome, readers, to Synchronized Chaos’ May 2014 issue, where we explore the idea of confidence. A confidence interval is a concept in statistics referring to the accuracy of an estimate. Researchers can say they are pretty confident that the number they’re trying to find is within a certain range, known as the confidence interval.

As in statistics, we often find ourselves dealing with estimates and rough ideas in the human and larger natural worlds. We aren’t perfect, don’t know everything, and often possess too much, or too little, confidence, and aren’t sure how we fit into the larger universe.

So, these submissions explore various aspects of the broad, complicated concept of confidence.

Some look at the big picture, exploring how and what we know about the universe and our own minds.

Dr. Inez Fung’s lecture at Oakland’s Chabot Space and Science Center, written up by Cristina Deptula, looks at weather versus climate and what we can understand and predict about complex systems. Christopher Bernard presents a more personalized look at ecological issues through the life of a fictional man attempting to live using the smallest amount of natural resources possible, confident that his life and choices matter on a larger scale.

DanaLynne Johnson’s dramatic piece Toy Law also explores questions of our responsibility to the larger world, in a more personal context. Her speaker avoids speaking up about domestic violence at his neighbor’s home, when he could have made a difference, and finds himself facing consequences.

Other pieces focus on internal, psychological aspects of how we view ourselves and our capacity to deal with our world. Dr. Daniela Kaufer, UC Berkeley associate professor of integrative biology, looks at how acute and chronic stress affects our brains, and how we can mitigate those impacts. As she discusses, in a talk Cristina Deptula has reviewed, an optimal level of challenges in life can build up our ability to function as we figure out how to handle them, but overwhelming, intense stresses can cause physical damage to our bodies.

Austin Harrington shows us a writer whose sense of self is shaken by poverty, and returning poet David Cicerone illustrates the inner wisdom gained through a rip-roaring whirlwind of international travel escapades. Michelle Tholen’s luminous artwork highlights the effects natural landscapes have on us and our sense of who we are. We are reminded that we exist within, and are part of, a larger, natural world that was here before us, and will remain after our passing.

Sandy Hiortdahl’s poetry and prose piece also comment on our place in the universe and the persistence of memory, drawing upon history and mythology to evoke the personal and collective subconscious. Fresh, crisp details bring the ghost on the motorcycle and the fantastic opera house to life.

Rick Hartwell’s poetry explores the tension between fresh anticipation and disappointed hopes, and uses fog, muscled horses, and waves crashing against cliffs as jumping off points for his reveries. Nature here causes him to think, reminds him of who he is, and calls him back to a broader sense of life and his place in the universe.

Erik Stitt’s visual art is inspired by Native American motifs, the landscape of the American Southwest, and Western fantasy and science fiction. Stitt’s work reminds us that wonder, awe, and imagination are not solely the province of our culture and generation, but much more universal.

Walter Savage’s abstract paintings evoke human relationships and our connection to each other, which is another way in which people draw identity and confidence.

Elizabeth Hughes’ Book Periscope column reviews two novels with protagonists who gain confidence as they learn from life and make choices: Audrey from Michelle Carrithers’ Summer Justice and Dr. Pearl Stern, pioneering female physician in the 19th century southeastern United States, from Marie Bartlett’s Pearl, M.D. 

In Kristian Wood’s short piece, the narrator gets up the courage to fly on an airplane. This fictional vignette reflects the author’s own experience of moving out on his own to start his life. Leticia Garcia-Bradford’s speaker also achieves a personal victory, taking her life back from a destructive relationship.

As with most things, including self-confidence, it is possible to go too far. Neila Mezynski depicts proud, self-assured men in her tone poetry, character sketches full of unique, telling details. Essayist Ayokunle Adeleye cautions against overconfidence in business, warning founders of enterprises not to gamble away what they cannot afford to lose.

Governments and larger social structures, as well as individuals, can possess destructive levels of hubris. Grace Chen’s novel Forget Me Not: A Love Story of the East, as reviewed here by Tony Longshanks le Tigre, illustrates the damage caused to individual lives and relationships by the Chinese Cultural Revolution, a time when the government believed it knew enough to manage an entire society through central planning.

Thank you very much for taking the time to read through this issue. We hope that by considering the meaning and value of each submission here, that we all will grow in our understanding of what it means to be a person here on this planet, to share the human adventure with many fellow travelers.

** Announcement, for the Synchronized Chaos family: A group of creative people in and around Hayward, California are starting a hackerspace, Hayhackers, which is an all-ages community center open to the public and should open up soon in the downtown. Hackerspaces are part of an international movement and are sprouting up all around the world. They are places where people can build things and work on electronics, computer, arts, crafts, sewing, creative writing, woodworking, photography etc type projects. You can come in, bring and share tools and do your own project, or join classes and workshops and networking events at the space.

Hayward is a multicultural, multigenerational and lower-income community with a lot of dedicated, interesting people but not a lot of industry or employment or safe places for people to gather. Hackerspaces in other cities have brought companies and industry leaders to town to meet people and consider investing in the community and bringing jobs to the area.

We’d love to see the Synchronized Chaos family get involved with Hayhackers and help them get off the ground. Please check out the website, www.hayhackers.org, which includes an interview with Synchronized Chaos author Ryan Hodge (Wounded Worlds). Hayhackers has regular Meetups at the Eko Cafe on B Street, Thursday evenings from 7-8 pm and all are welcome, even total non-techies, and especially those who want to volunteer! We’ll be at the Maker Faire in San Mateo, May 17-18th with science demonstrations for kids, and will be launching an IndieGogo fundraiser soon.

** Further announcement – the Hayward Library, 835 C Street, downtown encourages people to save the Earth and pass on a love of reading. They’re hosting a book giveaway, where people can bring gently used, well-read and well-loved books they’re willing to part with, to an event on their front lawn from 9-1 pm. They’ll give them directly to people of all ages who want to read them. I will be there myself and would look forward to meeting anyone who comes.

Flight

“Here’s some gum. Be sure to chew this so your ears pop.”

I remembered my father’s words as I sat with my back pressed against the seat during take-off. I chewed my gum relentlessly, but it didn’t help. I figured out a formula which was to yawn every five minutes, or whenever I felt an increase in pressure. By the end of the trip my mouth was so dry not only from the yawning, but also from the refusal to drink anything the flight attendant offered. Ten years later, and I still do them both. The only way I could peer out of the window was through my peripherals. I refused to turn my head, but I felt other passengers’ eyes glaring past my face through the small porthole, and watched the city become smaller and smaller. Seattle was just as beautiful up close as it was thousands of miles in the air. We were still ascending. I was motionless until the plane leveled out. The clouds encompassed the 747.

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HISTORY
REPEATS
ITSELF
IN
PARADISE

For Alex Duplain

* * * * * * *

‘Solo y herido, así me dejas,
Sabiendo que mañana iráscon otro al altar’

DAVID CICERONE
DCSK—002

There is a place in life for faith but that place is not in the mind
Security is whatever you get when you’ve outrun your memories,
& redemption only comes when you’ve been damned by what you can’t live down—
But the voice of conscience is as hard to hear as it is to kill
Love is whatever it takes to outlive your regrets,
& when the soul’s as timeless as its absence the heart’s as good as the last place it left

For in Cartagena I was threatened with my head by gangland pawns whose barked commands to pay in blood or money sounded rehearsed enough for the Norwegians and I to bolt to the ocean in full confidence that there was no real menace, only for their leader to ambush our hovel with a pistol three days later demanding hundreds of thousands in ransom for an associate of ours his boys had plucked off the street and held bound and gagged in a minivan which us ashen-faced rubes tried to collect from sympathetic friends but in the end had no other choice than to pony up ourselves
And in Medellín as twisted revenge for the student-anarchist crackdown our taxi driver played slalom with the riot shields at a speed fit to ignite terror in anyone
And in Bogotá the coffee farmer dressed his kneecaps and left elbow in a balm thick enough to conceal the freshly inked smiley-faces, having delayed the forearm winking frown until the morrow because he “just couldn’t get four tattoos in a single day from a one-eyed mechanic”
And in Villa de Leyva I fought through grimy boulevards, thatched-roof shanties and identically dressed families of seventeen just to scratch myself raw from bedbugs and take in animated custody battles between the owner of the flophouse and her most unfortunate favorite mistake

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