I, Who Can't, . .

Clouds and Butterfly

Clouds and Butterfly, originally uploaded by The Earl of Steinway.

Just up the river from the Bronx I find myself these days. That explains the sudden explosion of bucolia in this normally deeply urban blog.
Acually the south bronx does share some things in common with the more rural area where I now reside. Quiet streets at night. Small town insularity, distrust of outsiders. A feeling of being simultaneously in a place and outside a place.
This is just another reason the term "inner-city" seems so invalid.

Staring at Sun

Staring at Sun, originally uploaded by The Earl of Steinway.

Flowers

Flowers, originally uploaded by The Earl of Steinway.

Ebling Brewery, Now A Parking Lot

Ebling Brewery, S. Bronx, originally uploaded by The Earl of Steinway.

I have noticed that a number of people happen upon my blog when searching for the "Hupfel" or "Ebling" breweries. Maybe these same people are quickly disappointed that I'm not trading in memorabilia, just curiousity.
As you might have noticed, these long defunct Bronx Breweries are of special interest to me, especially the Hupfel brewery, which not only still stands but is located spitting distance from my school. I am currently, as part of my work up here at Bard College, doing some reseach on the history of Morrisania (23rd and 24th wards) in the mid to late 19th century. If anyone reading this blog has information, or knows where I might be interested in looking, especially regarding the aforementioned breweries, I'd appreciate a comment or an email.

Life-Long Learning

    I am 32 years old, married, unionized, been teaching for over 7 years, and I don't have a driver's license. All my adult life I have had to defend a very simple fact of my life: I never learned how to drive.
    The first question always is, "Did you grow up in New York City?" The answer to which is, "No, Long Island." One of the three things people associate with Long Island (the others being Billy Joel and Amy Fischer) are cars. And roads. Long Islanders aren't as advanced as New Jerseyites, who refer to their homes by their exit numbers, but they come close. So this is not what the inguirer expects to hear.
    The following question is, always is, "Then why didn't you learn to drive?"
    There is always such disbelief, like I am joking around or hiding some important but absolutely unguessable fact, "I was in a coma for ten years!" or " These aren't my legs!" But really, I don't know the answer.
    To me it seems perfectly normal. I never learned to drive because no one ever taught me. My mother worked full-time. My sister was always off with a boyfriend. I always had friends who drove, and I was never much interested in the places that cars could get me- the Long Island Rail Road was there to bring me to the only place that seemed of any consequence- the five boroughs, all magically connected my subways and one of the only places in America where it is actually preferable not to have a car. Knowing myself as well as I do, it would be strange if I did know how to drive.
    Maybe it had something to do with my environment-negating socialization. I became aliented from my classmates at an early age, which, contrary to everything I am being taught about development and self-efficacy, has had many positive results. I never developed a strong Lawn Guyland accent and I spent most of my time indoors reading rather than learning team sports. (My adult experience with team sports is the subject of another entry that maybe should be written)
    Whatever the cause the effect was that I entered college car-less, licenseless, and I have remained that way. The past decade of my life has been spent in New York, so I have hardly missed out on anything, and in fact the subject comes up less and less. As you get older perhaps people just assume you drive. With the wisdom of age, I've even come up with new and more sophisticated responses to the inquiries I quoted above.
    "Why drive? It only helps you get to boring places! Who wants to go to the suburbs of Phoenix? Anywhere worth visiting is off the subway or in another country."
    But for whatever reason I have had enough. This summer I am going to learn how to drive, even if it kills somebody, which after driving for a couple of hours, I am pretty sure it can.
    So on Wednesday my father came by my temporary housing up at Bard, where I am in grad school (oh did I mention I'm also a 32 year old college student living in a dorm?).
    "You're doing all the driving for the rest of the summer," he told me.
    "Are you sure? Shouldn't we start out in a parking lot or something?"
    "Hey, people drive when they're stoned, drunk, half-asleep- you can drive. You just need to practice."
    With that motivational speech he tossed me the keys, which I fumbled, scooped up from the gravel and somehow got into the ignition. Revrse. Gas. Brake. Drive. Off we go.
    My goal is to have a license in four weeks. Wish me luck. Wish the entire driving community of Ulster and Dutchess counties luck.

Wow, 100 teachers!

Today's Newsday seems to portray the Housing Subsidy program as a great success. Over 140 people have applied. They plan to hire about 100 teachers. Do if you subract that from the teachers just fired for not getting a master's degree within two years, New York only has to hire 700 teachers to break even, then begin the process of hiring the 7,000 or so new teachers they already needed. Good luck!

Oh, I'm sorry, do you work here?

    According to the NY Post (and people wonder why I read that thing!) 825 teachers in New York got the pink slip this year for failing to obtain their master's degree within two years. According to the DOE they had recieved fair warning and didn't comply, so they were let go. Great! That' another 825 spaces to fill. Add that to the approximately 7,000 new hires for next year.
    About that warning shot, I was in a similiar position a few years ago. I was licensed in 1999, so I had five years, but between working overtime, paying student loans, wondering if teaching in New York was worth it, and a complete lack of answer to the question, "How am I supposed to pay for this master's degree?" that was answered with a deafening silence from the DOE, Union Rep, Union Hotline, City University system, etc, I was ended up  taking a phenomenally underwhelming class at CCNY, which I had to pay for completely out of pocket, unreimbursed, and applied for an extension. I was grandaftehred into the old contract rules, which would give me an additonal five years to teach, and at the time there were few teachers applying for extensions. For a couple of tense months I was teaching without a license, wondering if at any moment some DOE employee would walk into my room and ask to talk to me in the hallway, see my documents. But nothing of the sort happened. The only communication I recieved from the DOE was a form letter stating that my license was about to expire and that I should take action. As if I could enter a super-accelerated two week Master's Degree program. There was no helpful person to call, there was no help at all, in fact. Calls to the union got the verbal equivalent of a shrug.
    New York should be ashamed that they are letting these teachers go. They didn't do anything wrong. I am sure there are some good teachers among them. They even made it through two years! And wanted to come back for a third (or they wouldn't have to be fired, I presume) And for that they are rewarded with a pink slip. Since they have teaching experience, the teaching fellows and Teach For America won't consider them. If the DOE was smart, they'd hire all 825 for a summer project- How can we convince you to stay? But rather the object of this lesson is: How can we get rid of you?

What am I sore about?

I want to thank Mr. NYCEducator for mentioning my blog in the 74th "Carnival of Education." I still don't know what the "Carnival of Ed." is, but I am glad to be a part of it, and more so that I don't have to juggle.
I am a baffled at being refered to as a "sorehead." What did I do to deserve that? And what does it mean? After a quick googling I came up with "one who is peevish or disgruntled." Oh my, talk about something on your blog you don't want an employer to see! (I know, I'm in a union, and what teacher isn't disgruntled, bit please is there a word that has pejorated worse than this one in the past decade? Is there. . . hmmm.) I hope I haven't come off as disgruntled on this blog, I was going for righteous displeasure. Passionate engagement, maybe? Enthusiastic Clarity in a Paralytic Miasma? Maybe I am a sorehead.