As some of you know, I had an assignment in which we wanted to make 1 million stars and fill up the wall with that many stars. I set up the project by reading the book How Much Is a Million by David Schwartz and Steven Kellogg, and telling them that we’d be attempting to do as one of the facts stated: fill up seventy pages worth of stars, which I calculated to around 12,500 stars a student. I explicitly stated in the aforementioned post that I knew the kids wouldn’t get that far, but just to believe that they could really encourages them to do so. (Eventually, we’ll make it to 1 million, but they don’t know it yet.)

One month later, we have almost 60+ pages full of stars from the kids, and they’re really nice. But of course, as the latest trend has been, certain people want to squash even the sweetest of fruits just to say that they could. I won’t go into specifics, but let’s just say that we still have this pervasive theme of discouraging imagination and creativity in favor of rigid indoctrination. We shouldn’t have higher-ups coming in my room in front of the kids and basically crushing all the encouragement I’ve been giving the kids about their accomplishment, especially when it was my idea and I never got any assistance for said project.

And even when there’s the slightest hint of creativity from the higher-ups, it’s not done to achieve anything but as a facade to look ingenious. I look at what we did, and not only did it really pump up the kids, but it actually helped with a few of the math state standards, so I was essentially preparing them for the test without teaching to it. On the other side, we have people trying to emulate popular game shows on their computers but it has little to no relevance to preparing them for the test, and it’s taking away from our common planning, where we can be … planning in common … or whatever that was supposed to say. Y’all get the drift. I was also able to tie this in to Penny Harvest, and if all goes well, we’ll be able to observe what a 100 million pennies looks like in Rockerfeller Center.

But it’s just another footnote on how even within our own communities and people who share certain commonalities with their students can still be myopic enough to crush kids’ hopes with a lack of courtesy and encouragement. You can have all these slogans for student success, get great remarks from outside officials through your quality review, and get a great letter grade from NYC’s khan himself, but until we can effectively change the thinking our children have about their school environment and how they perceive their world, we’ll continue the endless cycle of mental and emotional abuse many inner-city children continue to endure and feed into.

According to the estimations of Schwartz and Kellogg, it would take approximately 23 days non-stop for someone to feasibly count to 1 million. Sounds like a little, but it apparently takes a lot longer to get our kids to believe that that’s possible. And even longer for everyone else to believe that those kids can believe that.

Thoughts?

jose, who has an issue with the institution and not the individuals who crushed the fruit to begin with …

Honestly, today’s professional development didn’t do anything to make me a better teacher, and I’m pretty sure I have a ways to go before I become a good one, and I probably could have been a better teacher if they just let me do what I needed to for the children. Fuck it, I’d rather be teaching.

Speaking of which, last week, many of my kids went trick-or-treating for Halloween and got huge bags of candy (just as a point of reference, I don’t have children of my own, so I usually refer to the ones in school as mine). They came back with loads of candy; I haven’t seen anything like it since my own youth. M&M’s, Snickers, lollipops, gum drops, Nerds … it’s as if Willy Wonka reigned supreme over Ronald McDonald and Mickey Mouse for just one day.

But during class, one of my 6th grade girls (who should be an 8th grader and we’ll call girl A) pulled out and flashed something unexpected to one of my other 6th-should-be-8th grade girls (girl B): an NYC Condom. At first, I thought it was candy because they were completely hi off the stuff, but I recognizes the black wrapping and subway colors from the wonderful Bloomberg ads around the city and said aloud, “Whatever it is we have right now, if it’s not related to math, then please put it away.”

I didn’t see it again, but I still had that itch in the back of my mind. So we went downstairs to take class pictures, and I got the opportunity to talk to girl B when girl A and another friend left to run an errand for one of the parents present. I had a sit down with girl B that went something like this:

“I know what I saw in the classroom. Now, you don’t have to discuss it if you don’t want to, but as your teacher, I do need to address it because I saw it in my classroom. Remember that, if you’re going to use it, don’t let whatever it is you do become who you are. You have a bright future ahead of you, and I don’t want you to endanger your future by taking too many of those risks. You can make your own decisions, but I’m asking you to be careful.”

She giggled and said, “Yeah, it was cold and I was feeling it, so I had some fun, so yeah …” I just reiterated what I said, and told her that this conversation didn’t have to pass to her friends, who I was sure would be back in a few minutes.

Before Halloween, I already saw that student as an intelligent young lady. She really seemed to just need the motivation to channel that energy. She was left back twice, so the school system was already going to fail her. Now she has a chance to at least graduate high school by 21, and college in her twenties, too. However, she struck me as insecure from the moment I met her, and that’s unfortunate. She’s not the most girlie girl in the class, but she’s probably one of the most sensitive. Even though no one’s done anything to her to tick her off, I’ve already seen shades of what could happen should someone rub her the wrong way.

And unfortunately, when you don’t have much confidence in yourself, you start to make decisions that aren’t in your best interest. I don’t necessarily agree or disagree with teen sex, because I know despite me, it’s going to happen. As older and hopefully wiser citizens of this Earth, we do have a moral obligation to direct our children in a positive direction. Frankly I can’t tell girl B that she’s making the right or wrong decision, but I can help her think about the possible outcome for her acts.

It’s especially empowering for a man like me to tell that to her. Because of the male-dominated society we live in, young women don’t often hear men who want them to make informed decisions about their sexual behaviors. So many men want these little girls to become women really quickly, and usually for the worst intentions. Women in any public school have a wide array of women that they can turn to in their time of need, but they hardly see men of any distinction or success that they can trust.

Plus, I already had enough restrictions on that kind of talk without feeling like there’s a lawyer knocking on my classroom door. What can I do but what comes naturally to me? Where was the woman in her life to have this sort of conversation with her, too? Frankly, I didn’t ask all of that because I was more trying to address a situation that happened in my classroom, but it turned into a teachable moment of sorts. Sometimes, when there’s no alternative, I just make the best informed decision I know how to.

After I told her that, she just looked at me as if to tell me, “Wow, you’re right. I needed that.” But she didn’t have to. She’s too young to verbalize that.

jose, who still has tons of work to do …

Imagine there’s no Heaven
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today …

Field Negro’s contemplations about religion, Lupe Fiasco, my grandfather’s memorial service, and other personal issues really had me thinking about the positions I’m taking in worldly issues. It made me think about the existence of Heaven and what it means for so many of us trying to find meaning in our lives. It’s about 12:53pm and normally if I was a practicing Catholic, I’d be in church right now. Instead, I think about why it is I’ve left the pipe dreams the church sold me almost 10 years ago. We’ve become so complacent with everything around us …

Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace
We’ve sat down and watched as the world around us and everyone else’s individual interests overshadow the collective well-being of the proletariat. It’s almost as if we live our lives wantonly, waiting until the very last moment to reconcile with ourselves and our relationship with the G_d within us. There are wars going on, famine, sexism, racism, unneeded death, and all sorts of pestilence ravaging our world, but many of us accept it because, as much as we preach change, we’re really not.

You may say that I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will be as one

Even personally, we have issues with our parents, friends, lovers, co-workers, strangers we randomly meet, children, students, employers, … that list is interminable, and yet we constantly try to find a way to find a balance. Some of us go about it one way and end up miserable, while some of us have been successful in that endeavor. I’m personally still trying to keep things in perspective. Maybe it’s my Aquarian nature to think so idealistically about the state of the world, but there has to be a time for us to finally come together.

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world …

And I’m not saying some of these issues don’t happen for a reason. Problems throughout the world are in constant reaction to the last action, similar to a pebble in a pond, and the more pebbles you put into the pond, the more the waves crash with each other. Think about the constant intersections of rupture, and somewhere in between them, a plateau of stillness.

You may say that I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will live as one

Imagine if we weren’t simply searching for utter happiness, but peace. Simply being angry isn’t going to do anything other than alleviate my emotional wounds. Acting and being part of the solution has become so vital to my quest for true peace. Everything is relative, and when we put our lives’ pieces in proper perspective, it becomes a lot easier to imagine that reality …

jose, who wonders if someone noticed the theme since last sunday …

p.s. - Shout-outs to:

AM, who wrote a really good entry about me,

All the Carnivals I forgot to highlight as of late like JD’s Carnival of Math 18,

Evolution’s Carnival of Education 139,

Global Citizenship in a Virtual World’s Carnival of Education 138, and

EducationWonks’ Carnival of Education 137.

I’ll do a better job after this, honest.

When it comes to my principles, I didn’t tell them who I quoted from, but I had a discussion around them. What’s great about these principles is that I get to discuss them while secretly learning more about who they are as people and as students. I tested their ability to follow procedures and respect others’ opinions.

Of the few passages I’ve taken with me from the 6 years of Catholic school and the extra 4 dedicated to Communion and Confirmation, it’s the miracle of Jesus walking on water. For those who aren’t Christian, the story goes that, after Jesus died and resurrected on the 3rd day, he started appearing to the disciples randomly wherever they went. One of those appearances was Jesus, walking to them on water, as the disciples were on a boat. Jesus calls out to Peter, the head disciple, and says, “Walk with me.” He starts walking to Jesus a little bit, looks down, and realizes how deep it is, and so begins to drown.

The story in itself is nuts, and I love it. Even in allegorical form, it transcends its religious tone into something that I feel everyone can learn from. It was even more ludicrous when Jay-Z, who often describes himself as Jay-Hova, said in one of his lyrics,

“How could you falter when you’re the Rock of Gibraltar?
I had to get off the boat so I could walk on water.”

I’ve never heard anything like that; not only did he just compare himself to Peter the Apostle, but describe his situation in the controversial breakup of Roc-A-Fella Records, a record label that at the time was dominating rap music, but he had to leave to get greater opportunities. In other words, he put one of Jesus’ miracles in terms that, while blasphemous in some circles, let people who don’t even follow Christianity could understand.

I interpret walking on water as not just taking a risk, but taking such a huge risk that it takes a lot of faith as much as it takes planning. While it’s not prudent to just jump at everything that comes your way, sometimes when the timing’s right, that leap of faith can earn big returns.

Personally, I use it with the kids because it’s too often that kids are afraid to take a risk. I took a risk with the kids I have, as many teachers this week told me how intrigued and confused they were by my selection as a 6th grade teacher, preferring that I stayed in the 8th grade with the “tough” kids. I countered that maybe I didn’t choose the kids, but certainly these kids were chosen for me.

I’ve never taught the grade, and now we’re both going through this journey together. While hopefully raising them up a couple of grade levels, I also hope to inspire them to become better people. That’s something I lost last year in some ways. My first year I did a much better job of inspiring young children to become better students, and even if I just planted the seed, that seed blossomed well into their 8th grade year. Oftentimes, I’d look down at my feet, and sink gradually, wondering if those piranhas were going to nip at my toes in the process.

With this new year, I’ve got the fantastic opportunity to get my kids into the right mentality for the rest of their lives. With an optimistic and positive attitude mixed with a little focus and management, I continually increase the odds of that.

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“What does it mean when I say, ‘walk on water’?”[silence]

“Well think about this, has anyone ever been on a boat?”

[some hands rise]

“What do you feel when you’re on a boat? How do you feel?”

“Scared,” “sick,” “nice,” “safe …”

“SAFE! When we’re in a boat or a plane, sometimes, it’s really easy to just stay on it, and maybe even go back home. But if you never step off into that new land, you’ll never try something new. Some of you have never left this street, or even Washington Heights. Now is that time. Don’t be afraid to try something new. When my parents came here, they took a risk and never looked back. When it comes to this math class, I want you to take a risk and go into it headfirst. Try your best. I want everyone to get 100% on their grades, but if you don’t, all I’m asking you is to try your hardest. Walk on water.”

mr. v, who feels comfortable going into any desk formation with his kids now that he has his procedures and rituals down

They say men actually have a 6 in 10 chance of having a “successful” conversation with a woman. As a mathematician, I looked at that stat and said, “Well that means, because there’s tons of men and tons of women, that there’s a HUGE group of people that are pushing down the average of all men.” In other words, there are men who have little to no chance of having “successful” conversation with a potential mate, and that’s saying something. That’s right around dudes start looking for a solution. They pick up books like Dating for Dummies, get dating coaches like in that movie Hitch, or just give up altogether and enter into a state of almost absolute asexualism. Yes I made that word up.

For people like me, though, I needed something a little more foolproof. That’s where The Game came in.

The first time I heard of the book, I was reading AM New York on the F train, and caught the interview with Neil Strauss. The whole premise of his interview was about giving a taste of his life as a pickup artist. I was subconsciously drawn, because at the time, I wasn’t having as much luck with the “ladies.” Unemployment does a number on one’s self-confidence, and things just weren’t going right for me. I had a few dates, but … something just wasn’t right. Even my older brother gave me (very unrequested) advice about how to talk to women.

I went into Barnes and Nobles; the salesperson told me it was under Self-Improvement. I laughed heartily.

It looked like a King James Bible except for that little red lace coming out of the packaging. Leather-type cover with gold lining throughout the pages, and the title itself embossed in golden film:The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pick-Up Artists. I hate to admit this, as the males in my father’s side of the family are notoriously adept at picking up women, but the book changed my life. After a year, I had to recommend it to other friends who were in my former position. I never even used the actual tricks in the book; it was more to help me refocus how I talked to women, and that was helpful. (Now that I have a girlfriend, I have no need for it, but some of the tips given in the book apply to every first-encounter situation I’ve been in.)

Fast-forward to today, and this secret society is no longer secret. And one of the protagonists in The Game, a cat named “Mystery” has his own reality TV show aptly entitled The Pickup Artist. At first, I thought this would be foolish; how can one translate the intricacies of these processes without seeming too fake? Then I watched, and I was flabbergasted.

Mystery and his wingmen took the AFCs (Average Frustrated Chumps) to a bar in DC to talk to some women. It was their first time and they didn’t have any tools of the trade. When I tell you that these guys were just horrible, that wasn’t the 1/2. I found myself changing the channel for a brief second … because I found a lot of those mistakes in my former self.

One dude walks into the bar and he looks pumped and ready to go. He comes in there with a mission, stylish, and looks like he belongs. Then he talks to his first girl. CRASH. It lasted all of 40 seconds.

The next dude walks into the bar and comes in slowly. He circles the bar once and then focuses on two women. He starts talking to one, and ignores the other. However, he fails because the other girl starts talking to the girl he wants, and they close him off easily. Next thing you know, he’s saying good night and thanks …

“WHY ARE YOU SAYING THANK YOU? FOR WHAT?” - I screamed at the screen.

The next dude walks in there and he has a conversation, too … that lasted like 5 lines. It was a complete and utter rejection.

Another dude is given 2 chances with a nice girl and fails, another dude talks to dudes in the bar in the hopes that they’ll somehow introduce him to a girl, another dude gets the “We gotta go to the bathroom” line, and another dude just stands to the side altogether and doesn’t even attempt to fail.

And it really made me feel for those guys, because I’ve been there before. The common thread with all of them? They lacked self-confidence. Not to say that any of these dating techniques and self-improvement books will guarantee results within a matter of a couple of days (not everyone can be me … jokes, jokes …), but they’re all round about ways of getting the confidence to talk to a potential mate. The Game is a cheat code that’s rather unfair, but it’s the only way some dudes can level the playing field.

jose, who has no remorse

Imagine if you’re sitting there with a bunch of baskets and a ton of eggs telling yourself, “Man, I wonder if I should put all these eggs in this one or that one.” Well, the old adage definitely applied here: don’t do it. However, the idea of being aggressively patient is more analogous to taking a hammer and trying to rip down a wall.

I usually knock on the wall, just to see where the hollowest spots are. Some people might knock on a spot thinking it was hollow, but it was just a crack. Others might knock directly on wood, and mess up their whole operation. I do my best to find the spot that feels right to me, and then I get to work. It’s something I’ve learned and has proved to be successful personally and professionally.

It’s the same with the writing career I’m trying to develop. On the one end, I could flood the market with all my material and do a little too much, and on the other, I could do too little and never get seen. Neither one works. However, if I just select a couple of projects I want to take on and a few contests I want to take on, and then give my best to those, then I might get somewhere.

I’ve become aggressively patient just by my own nature, but more because of my own experiences. Besides, I need my sanity. Thanks for the question, CaliforniaTeacherGuy.

jose, willing to impart some knowledge whenever he has any …

I was riding the train with a rookie teacher who, despite her numerous issues with authorities and her own personal business, has done very well, and seems to be growing into a good teacher. After a conversation about the state of our school, I asked her why she stayed in this profession then and what she actually likes about this profession, and she says with the twinkly little eyes of a newbie,

“It’s because of the children. It’s because of their vast potential and knowing that they deserve better. We go on a trip and it’s not well planned. We wouldn’t want that for ourselves, so why do the kids have that? The kids don’t deserve that. I want to see them have a good future …”

And I interrupted with a semi-sarcastic “AWWWW,” my usual way of deflecting seriousness of certain matters. Honestly, it reminded me of why I teach, and why I got into the profession in the first place. In spite of all the bull I have to constantly sift through, all the blame, none of the props, and the everlasting job-related fatigue, I still teach.

That’s the thing that very few people get. It’s that mix of idealism with a dash of realism. It keeps this teacher, and teachers like the one I just spoke of, keepin’ on with the keepin’ on …

jose, who’s going to have a gooooood weekend

p.s. - I didn’t know the kids have to be BRIBED into scoring better on their English / Language Arts and Math State Tests. Maybe we should just give them hints on all of their tests. Then again, maybe not.

This morning, after waking up from a much-needed hangover-induced nap, I decided to make my rounds on the Internets. I got to AM’s blog and came upon one post in particular that I loved. It was Taylor Mali’s performance of “What Teachers Make”, a poem about the difference between a corporate 9-5 job and working in the K-12 educational system.

Naturally, I loved the subject matter and the poem itself, because every good teacher knows how much of their person they extend to these kids; even more so, they go above and beyond their pay to provide something for them, whether it’s inspiration, supplies, or a much needed wake-up call.

I bring this up because yesterday, I went to a leadership meeting as a guest speaker at my school. Apparently, when asked who the kids thought was a leader, but that wasn’t famous, a good portion of them chose me. Naturally, I’m humbled by the selection; this is not to say I didn’t expect that I made some effect on the kids, but honestly, I’m really into my job.

The counselor who organizes the meetings handed me questions that the kids asked me, and I laughed, mainly because they were so … boring. They weren’t used to asking real questions that mattered; that comes with age / maturity. So I wrote some notes down before the meeting that I thought would be critical in the kids’ understanding of what it takes to be a leader, and how I arrived where I am now.

I told them the story of the young, Black/Latino male making his way through the hood but turning right around and making a difference in another hood. I told them the struggles I went through to get there, and how, through places like the Nativity Mission School, I became the man I am today. I told them how the ideas of service and generosity always make the best leaders. The first question that came from these kids?

“Mr. Vilson, what’s your age?”

I stood befuddled. Then I remembered that these kids couldn’t see past the more shallow topics, which only meant one thing; I had to stop being polite and start getting gangsta. As soon as I made it plainly aware that I wouldn’t answer the more personal questions, the 8th graders stepped up and asked serious questions that I hoped I could expound on.

That’s when I realized what it meant to be a real teacher. We discussed everything from basketball, music, the n-word, Dominican and Haitian relations, the Iraq war, my poetry, and who they thought I could most relate to as a student in the school. It was probably one of my happiest and proudest moments as a teacher; giving these kids the wisdom I wished to impart on them when they were in my classroom. And what’s more, it was the first time in a few days I had a room full of kids in complete silence. Ahhh …

What’s more, though, it helped me realize why I put up with everything I do, day in and day out. I care a lot about the kids and how well they do despite themselves and their environments. Everyday is a chance to start something new and break a trend that’s held Blacks and Latinos back. Here’s hoping I continue to remember moments like these when times get rough …

jose, signing off

I don’t often post about my job, mainly because I don’t need to hear the feedback about my posts through administrators or, for shame, my own students. However, a pressing matter that concerns me (and has for the last two years) is how we as educators and current society bearers turn “our” children into men and women of character. Unfortunately, the future of our kids looks bleak in comparison to kids from past generations. Except the late 80’s a.k.a. the First Crack Era.

It scares me that these children would rather rely on the instability of gangs versus the chance to better understand the world around them through a viable and honest education. Of course, I already have my reservations about the people in charge of our educational system, but on a more immediate level, the set of teachers my kids have are exceptional human beings.

We often discuss how best we can motivate some of our kids on an individual basis. Some of the factors affecting our ability to reach them including their family situation, their environment, and their educational disposition (or history). Most of that we have no control over, and like a combination lock, we’re all searching for the set of numbers that will open these kids up to new ideas. What’s even more problematic is when we have unlocked a kid, we have to find a way to keep the door open while unlocking the next kid.

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Last week, I was asked to speak to a leadership club in my school about a variety of topics, one of which I’m sure includes why I decided to become a teacher. While I’m completely honored by this selection, my present dilemma of how to inspire this generation of kids has me in a similar predicament to the chicken and the egg. Which came first when I taught: my need to teach the kids or the need to inspire them to become better people?

jose, the educator indeed