25 years is a long time

I was asked recently how long I had been involved with the YMCA. I thought about it for a minute and realized I walked through the doors of Westside YMCA 25 years ago this October. I don't remember the exact date, but I do remember meeting Eunice, Eleanor, Marian and June. They welcomed me with open arms and through the years taught me so much about organization, making the best of difficult situations, compassion, understanding, love and the Y. 

I arrived at the branch after Lew had left and Wayne Hart had not arrived. I remember one of my first task at the front desk was to send out the announcements of the new Executive Director. I didn't realize at the time the transition that would take place over the next months and years. I can say from Wayne I learned budgeting in a not for profit world. It was complex and simple at the same time. I learned also about attention to detail. Wayne could not spell at all. His office wall was covered in post-it notes all of them with important information, all of it misspelled. HOWEVER, he refused to let that be an excuse for any materials to go out with typos. You must remember this was a time when word processing was new an limited. Utako was our word processor and editor extraordinaire.  Wayne also made a big deal about knowing our members and their were no better ambassadors than June and Gary. They greeted each member and trained the part time staff as well. 

I was so blessed to work with people like Miguel Cardiel, his brother who we lost too soon, Mike Soto, Tom Stayer, Kris McCambridge, Eugene Lee, Clint, Mike F, Lisa Randall,  and the list goes on an on. We had fun. When rollerblades were new we had a traveling exhibition and would spend our break time and free time putting roller hockey games together in the gym. 

I was also so lucky to be in a place where I could volunteer as well. Through amazing people like Todd Katz and Geoff Rinehart I was able to become involved with camping and youth groups. What an amazing time. Caravans, pot lucks, mystery nights, haunted houses and more. 

I quickly moved into working day camp as well and met Staci, Christy, Amy, Jocie, Rick, Steve, Maribel and the list is too long to list here.  From Matt Storey I learned the planning wheel for focused and value based planning. All the things that separate the Y from other organizations. 

Through the years I have made life long friends. I have been able to work with the most wonderful kids who have grown up to be exemplary adults. In more recent years I have worked on Leadership Camp, Youth and Government and Campaign. I am a board member. I have my White Rag. So many accomplishments in my life are linked to my Y story. I became a teacher, much later than most, but I was so inspired by Kris, Maren, Paula, Ariella, Robyn, Nicole and on and on and on. 

At the Y I have known great joy, but also, in times of pain and sorrow I have turned to those who have been a family for me and they have sustained me. I have left out so many names in this blog. But I would like to add a few names who have touched me and made me go on when I didn't know if I had anything else to give. Thabiti, Ann, Fieron, Heather, Mike, Michael, Erik, Terri, Erin, Phil, Dann, Tom, Kathryn, Dave. To the staff throughout the years: Ed Viramontes, Dawn Flacks, Bhavani, Luanice, Erik, Deirdra, Anne, Jamie, Linda, Ernie. To board members who have been mentors and friends: Cathy, Dana, Arteria, Don, Dick and the rest. And a special thank you to Ann Samson who has pushed me to do more and more and to guide me and who has also provided support and wisdom through all these years. To Lew who came back and changed all of our lives.

This post is incomplete. I feel so grateful for the past 25 years and I know my life is better for having walked through those doors so many years ago. Just know, even if your name is not listed, you have all meant so much to me. I look forward to the next 25.

The other part of me

I have been blogging about my teaching experience this year, but find I need to balance my life a bit more and I need to rant in a comfortable environment. And so, here I am with an entry to just send "into the atmosphere."

I find lately I am incredibly sensitive to a few things. The economy, healthcare, racism and dealing with all of those things. 

I come from parents who lived through the depression and WWII. This, it seems, does have something to do with who I am as a person. I have a crazy work ethic. I don't understand the idea of a job being beneath me and I hate those who don't deal with their "stuff." I am not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but I have no patience for adults not taking care of stuff.

I spent a summer searching searching searching for a job. I felt no peace until one week before school started I found a job. I am still dealing with the repercussions of living off of unemployment and savings. Today I will get my first paycheck. I was not out of work for long and I am so grateful. I have had times in my life where finances were out of control. In the worst of those instances I was married. I did whatever I had to to make ends meet. 

That included working at Montgomery Ward over the holidays. My parents commented about this situation and how I had a degree and yet found myself working part time retail. I reminded them they had raised me to work and if this was the only job available at that moment, then I had to do it.

My current situation is not quite the same and I want to feel grateful to have a job and I am grateful. But, Watts is far from my house and getting up at 5:00 a.m. each day is exhausting and the drive home is not good. I wonder if it really has to be this way. The answer is yes, it does. This is the reality. I have a job. An actual teaching job and that is what I need to focus on each day. 

So, you can imagine how little patience I have for people who do nothing because they can't be inconvenienced in any way. I say to you, "get over it. Do Something!" Please do something, anything. Take one step forward and be grateful you can take a step. It is unconscionable at this time in history to sit back and think things will change without every single one of us doing something to improve the situation.

Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road

I have no idea why this is in my head. I don't question my decision to become a teacher. It was the exact right decision. But, now I don't know what my next move should be. I don't have an actual teaching job and school starts in two weeks. I know I can sub, but seriously. . . A Master's Degree in Education and I am expected to sub. I know I'm a good teacher. I know that sounds pompous, but really, I am a good teacher. I would like the opportunity to become a great teacher. I know it is who I am. 

I love children. I pretty much love all children. I didn't realize immediately that many people don't. They not only don't love children, they don't even like children.  I don't have any of my own, but I will adopt. But honestly, I love the children in my life. I suppose it is because within each child is the knowledge of endless possibility that live inside each one of them.  I have been blessed with the number of children I have encountered in my life. 

And now here I am and I have no idea what my next step should be. I am stuck at the fork . . . I think. I am looking for the path. I know in my heart it is there, but it is just out of grasp. So, in the mean time I will search. I know an answer will come. Not a solution but a real live answer.

How can this be

I am so exhausted. Sleep has been hard to come by lately. I feel like the world is on some alternative axis and I would love to get off, at least for a little while. This week was un real to go with many un-real weeks before, but somehow, this one was too much. 

The budget crisis in California is out of control and regardless of the union and the districts issues, the true problem is our State leadership. How can this be?  I have spent this entire year worrying about losing my job mid year, then receiving a pink slip for the end of the school year. And today the Governor wants to take even more money from Education. I am there every day and I work hours and hours and I am committed to my students. Even now when I know that in 8 weeks I will no longer have a job, I get up every day and do the very best I can for my students. Regardless of the good teachers and bad teachers, we can not continue to take away the things we know work in the classroom. If you put 45 desks in my bungalow, there will be no place to walk. The classroom will be no better than a jail cell and the students will travel from one cell to the next. Additionally, please imagine 225 essays, 225 books, 225 copies, 225 of everything the teacher will need or need to grade. My students are not gifted students, grading their papers requires I correct not only content, but spelling, syntax, grammar and the list goes on. Even my best students make countless errors. I already spend an exorbitant amount of time (my own time) grading. Now, granted, at the moment I don't even have a job for next year, but you get the point.

Now imagine 45 students in 52 minute increments, all who are 15 - 17 years old. Most parents have trouble dealing with the one, two or three they may have, but as a High School English Teacher, I deal with their family problems, boyfriend/girlfriend problems, bullying issues, racial unrest and the list goes on and on. How will this work, How can this be happening.

Our students deserve better, much better. We are leaving behind the changes we know are necessary in order for our students to be successful. Imagine all of these students on the street each and every day instead of in class where they belong. And, as if the drop out rate and failure rate isn't high enough already, what will happen now.

I am on the verge of crying, and have cried on and off this week and in particular since school ended today. Because of the class size increases, the small learning community I have worked in this year has been dissolved, and though I knew it was coming, it hit me so hard. This whole first year feels at the moment as if it were for nothing.

And yet tomorrow I start a class to help me improve the reading of my students.  I am a teacher and it seems I can not deny that or change it and I don't want to, but please let this nightmare be over soon, because I am unsure on how much more I can take. My students ask me every day, "why do you have to be fired?"  "why does it have to be like this."  They think the system makes no sense and they feel no one really cares about them.  So, tell me, how can this be?

Being Catholic and The Pope

I just have to say, I am Catholic with a very smart mother. She always told us, "Take what you need from religion, leave the rest. The rest is usually man made, not God made."

The Pope is WRONG. I will risk excommunication because he is wrong and I and most every one in the world is RIGHT on this issue. The issue is HIV/AIDS. Condoms save lives. PERIOD.

How dare the man, who is to be a man of peace, as was Jesus, not come out against the atrocity of HIV/AIDS and use his influence to save lives. The spread of HIV/AIDS in the world can be fought with information and CONDOMS. Using virgins to "cure" AIDS still happens throughout the world. Additionally, many go untested and spread the disease. We can stop the spread of AIDS with CONDOMS.

The Pope needs to stand up and do the hard right thing. He needs to do what he is supposed to do. He needs to save people, all people. Even if you are not a Christian you can see that Jesus was about love and acceptance and taking care of his flock. Whether he was the Son of God is another matter entirely. The Pope needs to use his understanding of the teachings of God and Jesus and care for the flock. If we are all God's children, then he must tell those who listen and follow him without question to do the right thing. USE CONDOMS.

I feel like a real teacher

Today was different.

It started out the same. Shower, get dressed, pack lunch, go to work. I plan every day and today was the same. But, something was different. It felt different. It was different.

My students worked today. They did their warm-ups. They responded to questions. They worked on their projects. They typed on their laptops. They helped one another. They asked real, meaningful questions. They were not loud. They did not require constant prodding. I almost didn't realize the change.

Then it happened. One student said, "Ms. Ancrile, it is like we are an actual English class. Everyone is working. It's so cool."

You might think this ruined the moment. It did not. They continued to work and they all acknowledged the change. And then there was another moment.

They stayed after class and after school to finish their projects. I joyfully stayed at school until nearly 5:30. They called parents, the parents checked with me to make sure they were actually working on school work. It was miraculous and so normal all at the same time. I helped them. They were lovely. They were fun. They were productive. I was productive. 

This was the day I have been waiting for all school year. I am a teacher. I am their teacher. They are learning. I am a real teacher.

Loving Students

Today was an odd day at school. My students were worried about me. I was just tired. But I did remember my friend Fieron telling me that when I'm tired I look mad. So, today I broke the cycle. In all of my classes my students are working on projects at the moment. Today I showed them examples of my own work on their assignments. I forgot how much it helps them. But regardless, they are all working individually (mostly) and sitting in pods of 5 to 10. It allows me to move around and really work with each one. I like this most of all. They talk to me, they are not monsters and though I always love them, today I really remembered how much I like them. Even the annoying one who was suspended last week was okay today. He ditched most of his other classes, but came to mine. He did not do any work, but he received some praise any way. He knows a lot of the material, just does nothing, he did help one of the other students.

Today is also the day when I remember how nice it is to be at a school that at some point in time had money for technology. I have a mobile laptop computer cart in my classroom. Macbooks -- very cool. So, they were all typing up their projects, they take it very seriously when they have a computer in front of them. 

All this, you get the idea, I loved them and I liked them today. So, I go to the office about an hour after school is out for the day. First Celeste tells me she found me a hard core sub for me while I am at the CPA conference. I thank her and let her know the last sub had a very hard time -- my students were pretty horrible to her. Celeste and Liz both thank me for letting them know.  Then I walk in to the hallway and find Lucy (she was our office manager until the budget cuts made that position go away). She asks me if my classroom was still in one piece when I got back from my last conference. I say yes. She tells me she heard over the radio all the roamers having to go to  my room while I was gone. I am a bit stunned, but realize, that is just how it is teaching 10th grade.  

I then run into the ELL (English Language Learner) coordinator and she asks me how it's going ( she heard the previous conversation). I let her know they can be really horrible, but not so much for me any more and that I just try to remember to love them. I don't always like them, but eventually they will be 11th graders. She reminds me of this fact too. 

I do love them. They exhaust me. They can't seem to learn a lot is two words and they write like all assignments are text messages (though not as much any more), but they did correct the Lead Teacher in our Academy about the pronunciation of my name and they tell me I'm their favorite and they know I care.

I guess I don't suck completely, but some days as a teacher I feel like a fake. Other days, like today I feel good and I feel as if I am in the right place, finally.  I hope I get to keep my job in the fall.

The Need to Write

I am a teacher. I teach English. I have days when I have no idea what that really means. Today is not one of those days. Today I realized I have not written anything of my own in months. No story, no poem, no blog and barely the occasional FB note. I have also not read very much. My work takes up so much time. I read and write instructions, prompts and grant requirements. But, I don't write. I feel like a fraud. My students have written 6 essays, endless paragraphs, thank you notes, apology letters, WWI diary entries and on and on. I have written nothing.

The teacher in the adjoining room found some things I wrote. They once published something I wrote in the LA Times. It was meant to be a letter to the editor, but they called and wanted it for their voices section. I worked with the editor, it actually is a piece that became longer not shorter with the edit. It was printed and I got phone calls from people in my community. Cool.

And yet, that was a long time ago. Now, I need some kind of writing project.  I want it to be something for me that is me that sounds like me.  

So, what do I know. I know we can lose our imagination as we get older. My niece Emma learned that from her Kindergarten teacher. It's true, but does it have to be. Can't we all dream and hope and believe in magic, love and adventure?  I want to, but it is true sometimes I believe I don't have much of those things left in my life. Those are sometime longer than fleeting thoughts. I used to be brave. I used to be sure of the endless possibilities.  I used to be a lot of things. 

I now know being strong and being brave are not necessarily connected. I now know with time it can be harder to take risks. I know doing things just because you are good at them is a lousy way to live your life. There needs to be joy. I learned something about joy from a priest. You don't have to be religious or believe in a specific god to understand this.  Anyway, he told us happiness is happiness but true joy comes from God. You know, that higher and deeper place. Joy is that feeling that overwhelms you and lifts you up and you feel fulfilled. My camp friends will understand this as that point in a ceremony. Joy real joy is what we are looking for. 

This is not the writing I was planning on doing today, but maybe it will lead me in the right direction.