Bruised Face, Bruised Ego

A New Year.

What will 2012 bring for Miss Lame?

The big unknown adventure- particularly, a new permanent teaching role in PE and Science- Miss Lein’s very own classes.

I’m excited.

My landlord is a dick.

Many people can relate to my feelings of landlord distain. There are rare “landlord gems” that are good people who care about their tenants and behave in a humane and reasonable way.

Two days after a beautiful Christmas day with my incredible family, I sat enjoying family company at the Collingwood condo in Southwestern Ontario, a fresh layer of white coating the world just outside the window. I opened my email, just to have a look-see.

“NOTICE OF TENANCY AGREEMENT END”.

Not fully acknowledging what this could possibly mean, I open the email, confused, but still calm.

I received my first ever properly outlined, spell/grammar checked email from my landlord that day. It clearly stated that my contract will not be renewed after my 6 months are up- No reason given… Ending with…

“Yours faithfully?

For and on behalf of DICKHEAD LTD

Sevban”

My brain dove into a tizzy of thoughts…  Completely overwhelmed, sad, frustrated.

“How will I cope with finding a new home and starting my new job???? Lesson planning. At the school from early morning until evening. Where will I find the time? My lovely flatmates. My big family. Everything is about to change.”

Next thought: "Organisation = comfort"… Moments later, I was on “Spareroom.uk.com”, searching flat adverts, lining up viewings for the week back in big, old London before the teaching world commences. 

Despite the anxiety and feelings of sadness about the pending changes, quickly feelings of excitement welled up inside of me as I contemplate a new space, new people, whilst maintaining my developed friendships with my lovely current flatmates.

A new adventure. Miss Lame likes those.

Why did Miss Lame get da boot?

This might help clarify…

Famous Sevban quotes:

1.       “Women have too many rights in the country”… Well then.

Miss Lame = woman.

AND so, as a key Chaudrey household spokesperson (meaning a woman “telling” Sevban to do something) this meant a less than adoring relationship developed between Sevban and I very quickly.

Based on my landlord’s stance, he despised my completely out-of-line (a hint of sarcasm…) requests such as:

a) Requiring a phone call/text prior to entering into our home (I was being “demotivating to his staff”)

b) Heat in mid-December (about 3 weeks of waiting and excuses)

c) A non-gas-leaking boiler (you know, so we don’t all die.)

I know. I’m incredibly unreasonable.

2.       “You be bad, I be worse! You be worse, I be worstest!”

Well, I guess I was “worse”.

Miss Lame and her current living situation.

Home life is sorted and completely ideal.

The tall ceilings, big bright windows and crown molding that enclose me as I sit lounging on the couch make me think of my home that I grew up in.  My heart is happy and my body and mind feel calm. I breathe.

The bright, comforting street lamps give a soft glow that light up my path and the charming, classic Victorian walk-ups I pass as I walk from home to transit in the early morning, and transit to home early-mid evening after a busy day’s work. This new route brings a smile to my face.

The home is much quieter, which is necessary at this time with my absolutely crammed teaching life. EXHAUSTED by constant, on-your-toes human interaction, over-worked, defeated by my year 7 Science class, I arrive home in need of a clean calm space to make and CONSUME food, and minute tolerance for further social activity.  My new home is inviting and brings my soaring anxious brain back down to earth.  I come home to two, in contrast to what was 6, beautiful people with whom I share the ins and outs of my day and vice-versa.  I am not alone, but I am not socially overwhelmed and overstimulated.

I feel calm, happy, at home.

A Bruised Face Feels Better than a Bruised Ego…

The face:

Eager, energetic Miss Lame, wanting to get involved… Not just to even out the teams, but genuinely because she has her incredible, recurring urge to just play some football.

My year 10 boys’ class… I dash confidently, energetically to jockey my 6 foot student, Delwin.  He turns his body to create a blockade between me and the ball he possesses. Meanwhile, other boys begin to swarm the situation. 5’2 Miss Lame, bouncing around, eagerly (and stupidly) jockeying, amidst five or six 5’9+, year 10 black boys.

“CRACK!”

I stop in my tracks and immediately bring my hand to my nose.

“whoa, Miss are you ok?”

Is it deviated? I think.

“IS IT DEVIATED AT ALL?” I ask with urgency.

“DOES IT LOOK WEIRD?” I insist, whilst tears flow out of my eyes and down my cheeks.    

The ego:

There is a wall. One of those hypothetical ones… I feel it’s opaque, solid and hard. I hear my voice and I hate it. I hate the sound of my own voice. I am faded and warn, yet my brain and body buzzes with anxiety. Uncomfortable energy.

“Stop talking and take a seat please! Class, I need your… Olivia, sit in your seat please. Kenny! Ayo STOP THAT!”

Strained voice. Strained eyes reading “helpless”… “completely and utterly shattered”. Dissappointment.

I would have never thought I would fear teaching students. That I would feel so weakened and ineffectual. As I stand before my class of year 7s. Science class. My lesson plan ready, SO thought out… Handouts, power point, experiment, prompts… Scripted…

My efforts are made useless within moments.

“If I just plan and prepare this lesson to perfection I will be fine.” I thought with confidence as I sacrificed my night’s sleep, staying up organising myself until past midnight.

Wrong.

Three crucial things I have learned or am still working on actively…

1.       Proper sleep- priority.

Sleep translates to better coping and patience… Less stress and anxiety- CRUCIAL to a successful class.

I have not properly appreciated the value of sleep until beginning my career in education.

2.       It’s not personal- mastering this is taking some time for Miss Lame.

The “crusty senior sass”, the loopy, undirected energy of my year 7s, such as non-stop meter stick jousting during an experiment, the intensity of these behaviours are variable from one day to the next and highly dependent of external factors such as the weather, time of day, what is going on in the students’ lives… hormones etc, in addition to my planning and approach to behaviour management.

Students are not malicious, they are kids. They don’t misbehave to make your life difficult on purpose.

3.       Year 7, 8 and 9s need parenting- structure and “no means no”.

I am working in a school in a region of London with quite the reputation for being rough and as having one of the lowest socioeconomic statuses in the city. Stressed and with minimal time and resources, I can see how the parents of my students struggle to find the energy to establish rules and routines with their children. Why fight their child’s request/demand, when it may escalate into an argument or a situation warranting much behaviour management and emotional strain?

My students come into the classroom, needing an adult figure to teach them boundaries and social expectations of behaviour- NO MEANS NO! 

I am constantly catching myself wanting to level with the kids. As I apply the prescribed reprimand regime- first warning, second warning, teacher detention, safe room- and my student pleads with me to give them another chance, my over-empathetic side says- “show them you understand they don’t mean it… Show them you understand people make mistakes…Give them that chance to do better…”

The kids sense this "giving in". They push harder as they see me flinch.

A negative cycle ensues.

COMMON MISS LAME!!! NO MEANS GOSH DARN NO!!!!!

BE A TOUGH MOTHER DUCKER!

…A Bruised Face Feels Better than a Bruised Ego…

But the bruised ego means important learnings…

A Lame moment for Miss’s Lame

Moving day (Sunday January 22, 2012).

Bent over (great way to start a sentence, I know…), head buried under (there I go again) the console of my new flatmate Simon’s car, strategically, affectionately positioning my mini potted coniferous tree and orchid in the foot space so as to avoid a topple-over catastrophe during the drive to my new home.  I sense Simon’s presence behind me, watching me maneuver the pots.  As I turn around and peer up at Simon, puzzled by his presence, I notice a smirk on his face.

HH“It’s going to be a rather interesting drive home with plants at my feet.”

A moment of confusion, and then the “AHA moment”, or rather the AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA moment as I realise what I’ve done.

I managed to miss the steering wheel prevailing overhead and neglected the gas pedal protruding into the foot space cave in which half my body was residing.

So many overt clues. Oblivious. Well done Miss Lame. Well done.

 I am Canadian. The driver is on the left hand side of the car for gosh darn sakes!!!

Friday January 27^th- leaving work for the day.

School staff behind the registration desk: “Miss can I ask you something?”

“Yes! Of course!”

“Does anything ever get you down?”

I am revitalised.

...Despite the fact I feel like melting down at times these days, and I can sometimes be found doing so in the PE office after a rough day of ineffectual behaviour management, my positive energy and efforts are acknowledged and appreciated… This comment ended my day and week on a positive note. Revitalised!

P.S. Favorite things I’ve noticed/heard these days…

1.       “The overground has been suspended due to adverse weather conditions”… at 3 cm of snow.
Martin: *Laughing* "THERE IS STILL GRASS POKING THROUGH!!!"

2.       I like how oranges are sold with their stems and pretty emerald green leaves still intact here. Just lovely.

NOTE: Any words that are bolded, italicized, underlined and in red are suggested/preferred words by Mom. She doesn’t like me saying words like fuck, shit, ass (etc) on the internet… I feel these words better illustrate my feelings as times, so just imagine them in there if you will.

"To the left! To the left!"

In the past month I have attended various schools for trial lessons/interviews for potential teaching roles in January. During these visits I have observed a vast range in student compositions, leadership and teaching approaches.

It makes me sick. The all-boys school…

… “GET TO THE LEFT OF THE STAIRS!... I SAID, GET TO THE LEFT!!... TAKE OFF YOUR JACKET!” The sharp, booming voice commanded.  Young boys scattered quickly to the left, into file. They don’t dare challenge the authority figure.  Feeling unsettled, tension rising inside of me as my ears are assaulted by the angry, domineering bark, I observe the boys’ faces and body language.  I see confusion, rising anxiety, responding from a place of fear… Sympathetic nervous system response: “Fight, Flight or Freeze”… Their glazed over expressions and startled, unfocused, programmed movements in response to the punitive command look “frozen” to me. Paralytic.

I am horrified. Feel sick as I witness this. I will NEVER teach here.

Later that same day…

Sitting in a theatre style room amongst the whole year 7 population (grade 8 in Canada), the composition: a mass of young, energetic boys, still very much children, large ethnic diversity, minority white, a high percentage of Muslim. The student body is informed that they are to be respectful and participate in the practicing and singing of Christmas carols. Highly Jesus-focused, Christmas carols.

“Now, I want all the Muslim boys to be respectful and sing today. Last time we practiced I was very happy to see all the Muslim boys participating…Try not to think about what you are saying. Think, ‘it’s just a song’.”  

As the practice progressed I witnessed that this “request” was more of a demand, and those not complying received punitive response from angry Mr. Conductor. As I suspected.

This whole scenario might be ok, if the students had the choice to participate or rather if the school invested some time and energy into celebrating the diverse beliefs and cultures of whole year 7 class.  If the student body sang songs in celebration of a variety of cultural and religious backgrounds throughout the year? However, I am about 99% certain this is not the case.

EQUITY?????

I THINK NOT!!!!!!!!

…To make matters worse…

An eruption of laughter, fingers pointing, some boys standing to scrutinise their peer in the back row, the target of the outcry, who is sinking into his seat in utter humiliation. The “conductor” stands facing the persecuting mass and the humiliated boy with his arms tightly crossed in front his chest, resting upon his bulbous belly, a smug expression- “that’s what you get”- on his face. Ugly.

Moments ago… Teacher/conductor…oozing with condescension…  “Hey you.” The student bodies heads all turn in the direction of his sour, ugly glare.  “Put away your lego or whatever it is you are playing with over there”

Complete and utter horror.  Did that just happen?

Hummm…

“Boys need to be kept in line”

“Boys respond to the commanding approach… It’s what they need.”

HUH-BLAH!!!!!! *hypothetical vomit in disgust*

This perspective is held by a good number of educators.  Based on the hypothetical vomit, I sure it is quite apparent that Miss Lame’s viewpoint and approach to teaching is NOT in line with the above.

Key Questions to consider:

1.       What is the purpose of this approach? What does it achieve?

The “key-ist” of questions…

2.       What does this approach actually TEACH the young boys?

My new, BRILLIANT book, “Information is Beautiful” shares information through visual representation. I have literally spent over 30 minutes on one page, completely engaged, following the visual leads, drawing connections and understanding concepts through images and their thoughtful placement on the pages- Ideal for Miss Lame’s attention span and learning style. What a GREAT teaching resource.

Interestingly and related to my above mention of teaching style, I came across a page in this glorious book illustrating the contrast between “Left Wing” and “Right Wing” political perspectives and the general attributes and approaches associated with each…  An overload of visual information I have to work my way through the illustration, a sort of mind-map representation. As I decipher the web of information, what jumps out at me is the piece that highlights the role and approach of adult figures in child rearing and education. I quickly placed myself VERY LEFT on the spectrum.

A summary:

Left

Right

The Expectation- A two way street: ·         Giving and receiving of respect The approach: ·         “nurturing love” ·         “Relationship built on respect and trust”- mutual respect ·         Education: “Learning- to ask questions, to relate to and cooperate with others” “THE SELF-NURTURING CHILD” openness, empathy, self-examination Miss Lame example: “I don’t appreciate the tone with which you are speaking to me (the infamous “crusty senior sass”). I don’t speak to you that way. I act respectfully towards you and should be able to expect the same in return.”

The Expectation- Just the way it is: ·         You must respect adult figures… cause…?...?...? Their older? The approach: ·         “tough love”- strict ·         “Relationship built on respect and fear” ·         Education: “Skills- to succeed, to compete, individualism” “THE SELF-RELIANT CHILD” self-defence, moral strength, self-discipline Example: “GET TO THE LEFT OF THE STAIRSSSSSS!!!!!” (the “OR ELSE” tone)

I get that everyone has their own approach to teaching and leadership and that there is a spectrum between these two punctuated wings.  There are perhaps times which call for reactions and/or approaches that lean left and sometimes which wriggle right. None-the-less, it seems that in Britain, there is a prominence of a right wing approaches.

Expecting respect, just because, is wrong to me. Again, what does this teaching youth? It doesn’t promote empathy and self-monitoring of behaviour. It doesn’t display respect and common decency, which I fully believe everyone deserves. Young and old. If we don’t develop these aspects of emotional intelligence, we are limiting youths’ capacity in the social and work world. I believe that success in career and social/emotional life is linked to ones’ ability to collaborate, empathise and gain respect through demonstrating respect.

The Canadian education system, particularly the curriculum and approach to education in Toronto, is highly forward thinking and quite “left wing” in comparison to the British system.

Common words and concepts used in the Toronto District School Board:

In the wise words of Beyoncee: “To the left, to the left!”

Getting shit done.

The story of Miss Lame’s life.

People often comment on how much “courage” it must have taken for me to pick up and move to another continent all by myself to start up my career, teaching in a new country and culture. To make my life happen. Just like that.

I am proud of the move and my ability to progress and make my life happen as I need and want it to.

I'm sure that confidence and some courage plays into all this, however, I must admit, much of my “getting shit done” abilities have a lot to do with my inability to sit still. I am hyperactive and a tad impulsive. I hate waiting- my impatience and need for things to happen when I want them to drives me… sometimes bonkers!  I like when life is exciting, with new opportunities, people, experiences and I just hate waiting or worse still, missing out. So if I just make it happen, the pay-off is much more immediate. 

Getting shit done- A recent example:

The man who lives above “my” café.

A moment of interaction. A brief smile of acknowledgment and a “Have a very nice day!”

The next day- Returning to my café for my morning coffee before heading to school…

My sweet baristas- Ramona and Nicholetta. Excited: “SOMEBODY HAS A CRUSH ON YOU!!!!!!”… They launch into an eager explanation, informing me that their neighbour living above the café was asking about me.

The weeks to follow… “you tell Rob I say hello…”… “Rob says hello back”…

This can only go on for so long. A week left of teaching before Christmas break and no accidental interactions in the café.

Miss Lame wants a date.  

A scrap of paper, my name, my number, coffee?, smiley face.

The outcome: Flattered café man + Coffee date in the New Year… SUCCESS!!!

Climbing…  In a castle!

Hands shaking, muscles all over my body twitch and fire as I balance and cling to the wall 15 feet above ground. I feel the urgency in my grip and the burn in my muscles as I contemplate the next rock I must reach, thinking, “this vertical route was obviously not designed for a 5’2 woman”. Without complete certainty that I will even be able to reach the next target rock, I go for it. I power up from my legs, extending from my sharply bend knees, pulling through my arms and back to straighten my awkwardly contorted body, driving my hips toward the wall to minimize the Lame bootie mass fighting to pull me down toward the earth. I take a leap of faith as I release my tired, but safe death grip and reach for a rock that is potentially out of grasp.  Momentum, my friend. My strength, my savour. I manage to barely grasp the small piece of rock protruding from the wall and feel my fingertips grate against the rock. Rough like sandpaper. Barely hanging on.  I throw my other hand up. In the nick of time, my other hand contacts the rock, and I use my last remaining ounce of strength to pull myself in and readjust my grip. Stable. My brain has a moment to catch up. The thought: “I’ve made it.” Shaking- The adrenaline buzz. Overcome with excitement. Pride. Grinning ear to ear- The endorphin high. Victorious.

 Rock climbing- applied to life…

1. take risks.

2. if first you don’t succeed, try, try again.

3. when you make it to the top it feels fucking great.

A TRULY Miss LAME moment…

Feeling quite confident in my preparedness for my early departure from the “Chaudrey” homestead the next morning, bound for Canada for the holidays, I decided to go for a drink at the local pub on Broadway with those flatmates whom were still around.

A lovely little visit: some laughter, smiles, cheers, a tame drink or two.  All the while, my head is in this lovely haze of excitement as I think about the first moment I see Mom, the first instant I see Dad… I see my dear brother- Erik…. My sister, sunshine- Kate.

12am, perhaps we should head back home now… The remaining folks, “the cool kids”, flatmate- Rachel and her boyfriend Dave and I, venture towards home. As we approach the front door, I am suddenly overcome with a sinking feeling as I contemplate seeking my key, which I instantly know is sat in my floral, vintage purse, safely locked away in my bedroom along with some fairly key pieces required for my trip home… You know, luggage… passport… No biggy.

Miss GOSH DARN, SILLY, POOP-HEAD LAMEEEEE.

Panic stricken, I launch into a tizzy of “shoulda, woulda, couldas” and “self-bashing”…

If not for Rachel and Dave, I would have been a LAME, useless puddle of tears on the floor… They kept me grounded… Together we worked out the steps we must take to ensure my departure for Canada only hours later.

Firstly, with very little expectation, I called douche-bag landlord, hoping that somewhere deep down inside his sexist, dick-ish soul he will find in his heart to help Miss Lame out… Nope.

Next step. Break into my room.

Option A) Attempt to break in through the window.

*Risk factors… This approach may be seen by neighbours and either encourage their attempt to break into my room or may result in a little phone call to the local police department.

Option B) Break down my bedroom door.

*Risk factor… I will DEFINITELY be required to replace the door. Any damage would come out of my pocket.

...A wonderful realisation.

Option C) Unfasten the excessive amount of screws stubbornly holding a haphazardly placed plank of wood across the sliding doors dividing my room from the kitchen/lounge. The ultimate security frontier!

*Step one- obtain a screw driver at 12:30am…

·         Check with a neighbour. Result- grumbly, displeased neighbour- “no, I do not have a screw driver. It’s kind of late you know.”

·         Back to Broadway Market. Corner shop. Just in the nick of time before closure. Miss Lame purchased a set of 4 screwdrivers.   

READY FOR SCREWING ACTION!!!!!

*Step two- break into room.

·         Miss Lame still a little flustered and useless is asked to make some hot chocolate and a snack of toast, while Dave and Rachel tackle the inordinate amount of screws standing between me and my departure for Canada 5 hours later. So lovely.

·         1hour later… Success.

·         Miss Lame can breathe

Home- Through a new lens

The View

The country side as we travel, London Ontario, the Niagara Escarpment, has never looked more gorgeous.  Things are so spaced out, vast.

Heading home from Collingwood, a stark contrast from the drive up. Two days of heavy snowfall between drives. I was worried I would return home to the other London without the good ol’ Canadian winter wonderland experience. But it came. I am taken aback by the Canadian beauty. New found love and appreciation. A new lens. Coniferous tree branches bow and lull under the weight of fluffy heaps of soft white. Rolling hills, soft cotton blankets, patched with old farm houses, standing peacefully. Calm.

I am grounded.

Family and old friends bring me back to earth. Not that Miss Lame struggles with being herself. I am very comfortable in my own shoes and don’t pretend to be anything but me, however, going home to Canada has brought out, highlighted, parts of me that I haven’t paid attention to or appreciated for some time. Being with those who know me to my core. Love me unconditionally. A refreshing, revitalising experience. I'm more ready than ever for my continued Miss Lame adventures in London England.  

NOTE: Any words that are bolded, italicized, underlined and in red are suggested/preferred words by Mom. She doesn’t like me saying words like fuck, shit, ass (etc) on the internet… I feel these words better illustrate my feelings as times, so just imagine them in there if you will.

Sometimes you just have to swear.