Culture Shock

Warning: Long post ahead.

Update: Teaching is going fine, and is currently even enjoyable!

Okay, so I decided that I needed more purpose in my life. To that effect, I went and volunteered my services at a local interfaith agency that provides emergency assistance to people in need. I signed on as an “encourager.” An encourager is a person who provides guidance and encouragement (read, life skills training) to someone reintegrating into the community from prison, facing eviction, etc.

They matched me up with a woman from Mexico who has six children, all of whom are under the age of ten. Her husband went back to Mexico in order to escape prosecution for raping her ten year old daughter. Although the lady has lived here since she was nine, she does not have legal papers. This is a more common scenario than you’d think.

My part is to meet with her once a week. At the staffing, I suggested that I would brainstorm with their client ways to make some money under the table. She gets food stamps for the kids, and some TANF, but of course it’s not enough to pay the electric bill and buy clothes, toilet paper, you know…

So I go over there today. She lives in this area off two country roads (yea me for driving there!) that is kinda cool, actually, with chickens running around everywhere and all that.

The chickens are where the cool part ends. The trailer does not have a working toilet (very apparent from the smell inside), has broken windows, no light in the kitchen or living room due to electrical issues, and was filthy. Like there was a cup of chocolate pudding that had been thrown against the wall and left there to dry. Like the bedrooms are nothing but piles of dirty clothes that I guess the kids sleep on.

The lady, I’ll call her J, and I talked for a while. I’m going to help her with some school issues with her kids–bullying, speech services. We talked about her husband. I learned who is the main purveyor of cocaine in town. The conversation was really amazing. It went somewhat like this:

“Yeah, I told that sonofabitch that he should have just stayed with his 16 year old girlfriend. He could see how she likes him after a while. He only lasted 15 minutes on top of me you know, and a young girl like that–she’s gonna want some excitement, she has energy for all that! She would have kicked him to the curb!”

“Yeah, huh.”

Anyway, all of this was being said in front of all the kids! Yikes, right?

So I’m trying to kick my judgmental nature to the curb. She is one of 16 children, four of whom died. She started dating the man, 40 at the time, when she was 17. I really don’t think she knows how to do this whole thing–men, children, house.

She was out of diapers, and that was gross, because the kids were running around in dirty underwear. She told me how much they cost. I ended up asked Greg to go to Walmart and buy some. When I gave them to her, she didn’t thank me. I think she wanted the money. I suspect that the man in Mexico isn’t the only one with a habit.

I took one of the boys home with me for the afternoon. He is the same age as Sage, and they had a great time playing. I took them to a stained glass store here in town, and the owners showed them all sorts of stuff. It was a blast. The kid DID NOT want to go home. He made me promise I would come back. His mom says he never gets out of the house. Ack!

The ten year old daughter was ticked off that she didn’t get to go with me. The mom doesn’t let her go anywhere, because she wants her to watch the younger kids–1, 3, 4 and 6. She is resentful.

I worked with her for a while on her homework. She says that she never has her homework done because the kids are always running around being all noisy. True, that. The kids have no limits or routine, and it is chaos.

There is not one book or toy in or out of the house. There is a bunch of dangerous looking junk, however, that Greg is going to haul off next weekend.

Anyway, I have this idea. I’m going to take the last seat out of the minivan and put a blanket and some throw pillows back there. I’m going to add some age appropriate books. Then, I’m going to drive over there every day after school and we are going to read. (Kids in our district are supposed to read 15-30 minutes each night and document it.) Sage can read with them, and help the six year old. I can help everyone with their homework. I’ll bring snacks.

If the mom will just take care of the three littlest ones for an hour, it will work. These kids are still at the age when they WANT to do well in school.

Also, I’m going to suggest taking all of the kids for one weekend if she’ll agree to use that time to clean the trailer. Then, the next weekend, I’ll bring paint. No one should have to live like these people are living. It is just like a third world country. Actually, the dung covered mud huts are usually cleaner, from the photos I’ve seen. This is going to be one heck of a project.

Which leads me to the question of….how does one motivate another person who has been trapped in a rut for their ENTIRE LIFE? I went into this situation thinking that a woman with six kids whose partner had just left the country would be plenty eager to make money. I have a lot of ideas and resources. She didn’t even want to talk about it! Advice? I know you can’t change a person, but in this case, it’s certainly worth a try. The kids need a better life than this.

I’m going to bring her my decorating magazines. I don’t always like the fact that I read them, because it makes me want more. However, in her case, I think she needs to want more.

P.S. I’m sorry I haven’t been stopping by. My head is about to explode. I’ll check by soon.

Beginning of School Rant

My bullshit tolerance is especially low today. I am supposed to be in an ESL training today, all day, to teach us methods to use with ESL kids (English as a second language learners) in the classroom.

It does not matter that I have a M.Ed. in Bilingual and ESL. It does not matter that I have received awards for teaching ESL. The years of experience don’t matter. No one cares! And yes, they DO know.

I hit my limit after having to make a “little journal” out of a piece of construction paper on which to take notes for the day. The notes included things like the definition of ESL.

I tried to sneak out, but disappointingly, the door in the back was locked. Foiled. The other teachers sitting in the back snickered. They knew why it was locked. We’d all try to escape! So I had to walk out the same way I came in, increasing the possibility that my name will be marked off the sign in sheet.

I am so frustrated with the ESL thing on so many levels I can’t even write it all down. The last thing I will say about it is that the district is offering a $300 stipend (I know, big whoop) to teachers who go to a couple of workshops and then take the ESL certification test. Do I get a stipend? Hell no. It just makes no sense.

I don’t want to go to the training tomorrow either. It is the annual training on how to physically control violent kids. After getting hit in the neck last year trying this method, I am not doing it again. They can tear up the whole classroom, break windows, throw computers, whatever. There is not going to be a thing I can do about it other than getting on the radio and calling for help. That training is worthless unless you are in some hellish job where you get to practice it enough to actually be able to use it. Four of us couldn’t control that kid using those methods, and one of us was a former boxer.

I have a bad attitude. I could blame it on hormones, but perhaps the wacky hormones simply paint the world in more realistic colors at intervals so we don’t spend too much time looking at LOL cats and rotting our brains…I dunno.

I’m sure I’m set to make a grand impression for our new principal. I don’t care.

I talked to a teacher who just moved from the alt school to the high school. I called him a traitor, and he said he was sorry, but he just couldn’t stand sitting in a box another year. I know what he means.

I’d really love to feel excited about teaching again.

One More Week

There’s one more week of summer left. Next week, Sage and Greg will be in New York, so it will be a strange week. Sky will be here, which I am thankful for. I’ve had enough alone time lately.

Sky is moving out soon. He has money saved, and he knows he doesn’t want to live here. That’s about all he knows. I don’t blame him. Shoot, I don’t want him to stay here. It’s stifling and repressive. I’ll miss him like crazy, though.

He’s probably going to go with the “safe” choice and move back to Austin since his dad lives about an hour away. Since he doesn’t have a license yet–no real reason other than lack of motivation–Austin is going to be a sucky place for him to live.

He’s thinking about other places, like Portland, OR, but he’s worried he won’t like it and will have blown his savings. He knows he likes Austin, even though he does think there might be something better out there. I’m encouraging him to take the risk of going wherever he wants. I told him he can always come back and work for a couple of months to get more money to go somewhere else. He’ll probably end up in Austin, though, and I’ll be sorta glad because I can visit him there. Probably. You know.

I’m actually a bit glad that summer is over. It highlighted how disconnected I feel here. Today, I went to a meeting at work and saw a bunch of people I really like and care about. I’m the mentor for the new math teacher, and Mr. Sir has finally retired. Oh!! Word is that Mr. Sir came into over $800,000 of money on an oil deal. Wonder if that improved his mood any…

This week is looking decent, socially. I’m going to a party Saturday night, a get together next Friday night and out to lunch twice next week. That may not seem like a lot to most people, but it’ll be the busiest week I’ve had all summer!

I have to face the fact that some of the social life problem is my own fault. I rarely initiate anything, and one of the guys from work has invited me to no fewer than four parties, none of which I’ve attended. Sometimes it’s the agor, sometimes it’s no babysitting, sometimes it’s just feeling like holing up in the house (depression).

So, I’m going to work on that.

I was going to join a church, since that’s what everyone seems to do around here, but even the Methodists say you have to believe in that “everybody raises up out of the grave when Jesus comes” stuff. I just don’t believe that, and I really am not good at pretending that I do, or ignoring it and going with the flow. There are no nice “liberal” churches here, unfortunately.

So I’m just blathering on now. Anyway. Yeah.

Urgent Emergency

I had this horrible insomnia last night. I finally was starting to drift off around 3:00pm when flashing red and blue lights and a loud banging on the door brought me out of any dreams I was starting to have.

Of course, I felt a bit scared! What on earth had happened that the cops would wake my family up in the middle of the night?

Turns out they wanted me to move my car. Move it from the place where it has been parked for two months. Why? Because apparently it is a no parking zone.

This couldn’t have waited until morning?

Would this have happened in the middle of the night in a nicer neighborhood, where the homeowner could have been a city council member?

What bullshit.

A True Story

redneck.jpg
Photo: Yelnoc

There’s been a lot of talk in the news lately about how much legal latitude parents should have when it comes to naming their children. I don’t know where I stand, actually. On the one hand, the libertarian side of me believes we should be able to name our children without government interference, while another side of me is more concerned with the child welfare side. One thing’s for sure–if you name your child something nutty, they’ll probably be legendary.

There was a family in the town where I grew up who was going to have another baby. They told their two older boys that they could name the baby anything they pleased. Well, when the mom popped out the kid, the two brothers told their parents that they wanted to name him Howdy Truckie. The parents, being the sort of people who apparently honored their word, put the name on the birth certificate, and that was that.

Howdy Truckie ended up having hardly any teeth by the time he was nine, owing to all the dippin’ tobacco he used, probably courtesy of his older brothers. Later on, he got gum cancer. That’s actually all I know about him, since I didn’t live in Texas when he was growing up.

I did, however, grow up with a child named Lace. I think Lace is a really beautiful name. The thing is, the boy who was graced with this name had absolutely no choice but to turn out to be flamingly queer. Not that being gay is a terrible thing, but this kid never had a bit of choice in the matter. I think he would have been better off with Johnny Cash’s “Sue”.

Then there were the twins two grades down from me named Annie and Zannie. They still live around here. People remember them better than their ten other siblings.

Of course, I may not be one to talk. My own kids have unusual names. Everyone knows who they are in school, which has been a good thing. Hopefully, it will still be a good thing professionally. Of course, if not, they can always change them. Unless they decide on something like Howdy Truckie.

Sellout?

I’ve been researching this “make money online” thing for so long now that I’ve caught on. I came up with a great way to market credit cards and make tons of money. The thing is, I find myself putting off doing certain things that I need to do before I will get any leads. I finally figured out that I feel like I am going to be selling people into slavery by doing this.

I came up with a whole list of justifications. Foremost, that people make their own choices, and if they’re going to run themselves into debt, why shouldn’t I get a piece of change from the credit card companies while they’re doing it? Still, it feels wrong.

I am getting very, very frustrated. It seems that every avenue I go down that has serious profit potential has ethical issues. It seems like the only clean money would be if I grew pumpkins and sold them at the farmer’s market for a few bucks a week. Ack.

I really want money right now. I was stupid and unstable and didn’t save for Sky’s college. I want to have more options insofar as Sage’s education goes.

I really hate to have this knowledge and then not be able to use it and still get a good night’s sleep. The big affiliate money is in loans and overseas pharmas. I’m trying to find another product that would work with my marketing plan, but I’m not having much luck.

Ideas? Justifications?

Related Posts with Thumbnails