the reason i teared up in class today

we pray for children.....
who put chocolate fingers everywhere,
who like to be tickled,
who stomp in puddles and ruin their new pants,
who sneak popsicles before supper,
who erase holes in math worksheets,
who can never find their shoes.

who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
who never "counted potatoes",
who are born in places we wouldn't be caugh dead,
who never go to the circus,
who live in an x-rated world.

who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
who sleep with the dog and bury goldfish,
who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money,
who cover themselves with band-aids and sing off key,
who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink,
who slurp their soup.

who never get dessert,
who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
who watch their parents watch them die,
who can't find any bread to steal,
who don't have any rooms to clean up,
whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser,
whose monsters are real.

who spend all their allowance before tuesday,
who throw tantrums in teh grocery store and pick at their food,
who like ghost stories,
who shove dirty clothes under the bed and never rinse out the tub,
who get visits from the tooth fairy,
who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
who squirm in church and scream on the phone,
whose tears we sometimes laugh at and whose smiles can make us cry.

whose nightmares come in the daytime,
who will eat anything,
who have never seen a dentist,
who aren't spoiled by anybody,
who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
who live and move, but have no being.

we pray for children who want to be carried and for those who must,
for those we never give up on and for those who don't get a second chance.
for those we smother....and for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind enough to offer it.

....and for those who teach them daily.

what's sign language for i want to shoot myself?*

my friend carly from class has all kinds of interesting stories about being an interpreter for the deaf at bryan high. one boy who she served came from mexico at the age of 14 with practically no language. he didn't know mexican sign language, much less ASL, and had never been taught to lipread in spanish. he only had a very rudimentary set of signs that were used at home with his family.

14 and he could only express himself with a handful of simple signs. the concept completely blows my mind. with severely limited language acquisition like that, it seems that you would lead a life of constant frustration and isolation. carly said he was very bright and quickly picked up on essential pieces of ASL, but she could still tell his development processes had been extremely stunted.

the thing i can't get my brain around is what went on inside this boys head. i mean, i think in english and deaf people who know ASL think in sign. but if you have no learned vocabulary or grammar, what happens? he most certainly had developed his own personal language that he would never really be able to communicate with others. i will say that i don't think the education system is equipped to handle rare cases like these. as a teacher, it would be a daunting task to try and help this child to become a functioning member of society. can't wait for that world of surprises waiting for me august 16.



*the title of this post has nothing to do with my future career. it's just something i said during ESL class today.

good luck in albania

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Originally uploaded by marmahan.

so that italian kid who was always hanging around my parents' house returned to milan on monday. he was here for almost a year and it'll definitely be weird going home to no foreigners.

michele is the kind of kid who really clicked with my family. when he told us about the italian hatred for albania, we immediately began to refer to him as albanian. when he heard i was moving back in with my parents, he told me that i'd live there until 30 and then move into an apartment and buy 20 cats. after that point, any sarcastic remark i made was met with meows. lovely.

a texas stop sign by regan

a texas stop sign
Originally uploaded by rwsq.

say what you may about lubbock, but west texas sunsets are breathtaking. i remember one time in high school when i turned onto 19th street and literally could only say "wow".

apology

sorry for the crappy quality of blogging lately. better writing will return once grad school stops draining my brain of any halfway intelligent thoughts. i'm guessing that'll be about saturday when i'm back in the lbk. until then, deal.

my penance:
"zebra" john butler trio
"leave the light on" jonathan rice
"lento" julieta venegas
"dance all night" ryan adams

JRM part II

one summer when my dad was in middle school, he had an abrupt end to his youthful laziness. my grandfather decided he was tired of coming home to his eldest son sleeping until noon everyday. "get a job, or i'll find one for you." my dad continued his normal routine until one day when grandpa told my dad to report to an auto repair shop the next monday morning. dad was happy that this opportunity to make some money had been thrown his way - especially since he didn't have to put forth any effort.

his first day on the job, he discovered that he'd have to work his way up the chain of command. they handed him a broom and told him he'd get more responsibility once he'd made himself useful and learned a little bit. so dad went through the first week, carrying out his janitorial duties with diligence. friday rolled around and there was no paycheck, he thinks. must be biweekly pay periods. second week goes by. no paycheck, no discussion of wages. so my dad asks my grandfather what he should do about getting paid. grandfather's response: "oh, you aren't getting paid for this. you'll work the whole summer and your boss is gonna repaint my car."

by the end of the summer, dad had been cured of his laziness and learned a lot about cars along the way. oh, and grandpa's car had a shiny new paint job.

super

diane managed to make my morning by introducing me to her blog. her wit and charisma will stun you. so you should all read it loyally. this isn't a polite suggestion, so go. read it. (especially if you are a boy who likes badly drawn boy and sometimes wears converse shoes.)

self-evaluation

i think i've finally come to as full of an understanding of myself as is possible at this point in my life. my personality and/or flaws can pretty much be summed up into one nice little package. i am inclined to addiction, a vigilent supporter of just about any underdog and a tireless devil's advocate.

any new idea, song, place, thing, food, person that i really like becomes my temporary obsession. ok, maybe not obsession, but definitely fixation. i listen to CDs literally ad naseum and then have to stow them away for a 2 month period. it's a big part of the reason i develop such deep associations with music. i can pop in almost any album i own and be transported to another time and place - feeling the emotions, smelling the aromas, sensing the weather.

i try approach issues from the standpoint of whoever's getting the shaft in the situation. sometimes my opinions are based more on gut reactions and emotions than on facts or over-intellectualized reasoning. i know that this is frustrating to some people (mike), because it makes me really difficult to reason with. there are just some things i sense are right or wrong largely based on my faith and empathy for down-trodden.

in classes, i find myself always countering arguments. not really because i disagree with what's being said, but because there's only one opinion being expressed. i'm not quite sure if it's because i just like being difficult or if i'm striving to make myself stand out or because i like to challenge people or some odd mix of the three. all i know is that i'll find myself mid-argument and think, you know, i don't really care about this all THAT much. arguing for the sake of arguing - it's the mahan curse.

i'm quirky and weird, but at least i've learned to appreciate it.

i have a confession

i really want to see rize.

if nothing else, i think that's gotta get me some street credit with my students.

JRM part I

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Originally uploaded by marmahan.

in honor of this wonderful man on father's day, i'd like to share a story. *

in 1997, i had just entered the 10th grade and had simultaneously decided to become a poser stoner. all my clothes were purchased at thrift stores (little league shirts and flip flops abounded). college radio was all i would listen to and so when i heard that reel big fish was coming to lubbock, i had to go.

we thought the show was 18 and up, so my dad agreed to tag along to get us in. the one condition: he would stay out of sight on the patio all night. he thought it would be brilliant for him to wear his "real big fish" shirt, a lovely trout print. mortification. sighs. rolling eyes.

as soon as we arrived at the concert, my friend amy and i headed inside and dad found a spot outside. midway through the concert, i needed money for a shirt and made the trek outside to request funds.

i was shocked as i walked out on the patio only to find my dad encircled by REAL stoners. we're talking dog collars and green hair. the kind of people who saw me for the fraud that i was were talking to my dad. and not just casual chit-chat, they were baring their souls to him. he just sat there nonchalantly, smoking his cigar and doling out advice.

my father is, and always has been, about 10.6 times cooler than i am.

*part of an on-going series in anticipation of the celebration of 50 years of coolness.

talk to me, baby

until last night, i couldn't remember the last time i walked out of a concert without thinking it was completely awesome. ryan adams played the verizon wireless theater in houston, my third concert to see there. my first was a date to jason mraz/liz phair that was the last good night in a crappy relationship. my second was ani all by myself and a welcomed respite from an increasingly awkward town.

this third show was not the proverbial charm. tonight the company couldn't have been better, but i guess ryan just wasn't in the mood. the whole performance was simply uninspired. he mumbled maybe, MAYBE, 6 words throughout the entire concert. each song change consisted of complete silence and a new guitar. no introductions, no anecdotal stories, no jokes. he didn't even show his face to the audience the entire time. he just kept his head down with his hair covering his face and played formulaic songs.

all of this ellusive behavior caused us to doubt the veracity of the performance. kevin suspects we were really watching a robot. i think a robot would have had more personality. either way, i'll never go see him live again.

a few thoughts

if you can't park it, you shouldn't be driving it. girls: if you can't fit your honda accord between the white lines, you should probably be riding a bike.

if you can't drive and talk on the phone at the same time, you're gonna have to pick one.

crowded house is an awesome band. my recommendations are :
"kill eye"
"mean to me"
"mansion in the slums"
"better be home soon"
"sister madly"

you would think teachers, of all people, would realize how rude it is to talk when someone is making a presentation. apparently you would be wrong in that assumption. martha's gonna have to reprimand some bitches come monday.

an honest question: if you did not/do not work in college, how on earth could you ever say you were busy? for the first time in 6 years i am unemployed and it is surreal.

as soon as i get a contract in the mail, i should be re-employed for the fall. plainview ISD (50 miles north of lubbock) has offered me a position teaching high school kids. be afraid for our future.

i have a feeling that this blog is going to become focused on education very soon. prepare yourself to be bored or enlightened, depending on how you look at it.

how far is too far?

through all of my preparations for becoming a teacher, i've come to understand just how much hidden work there is. anyone can be a crappy teacher, but it takes long hours, countless considerations, endless passion and flexibility to create a lesson that will be engaging and informative to your students. one of the basic facets of lesson preparation is making modifications for individual students' needs. this could mean anything from creating handouts with larger print for a student with a visual impairment to bringing in an interpreter for a student who is deaf.

today in my 'teaching ESL' class, we discussed modifications for limited english proficiency students. in our discussion we began to touch on cultural sensitivity. my professor presented the example of a girl from a middle eastern country whose parents don't want her interacting with boys. she began to discuss ways in which we can accomodate the parents until someone posed the obvious question: if they are living in our country, attending our schools, aren't they going to have to make some compromises concerning culture? if i visited a middle eastern country, i would certainly abide by their cultural norms and not expect to receive any special treatment. isn't part of the point of living in a foreign country to experience their culture? how much can i reasonably be expected to change in the name of cultural sensitivity and at what point will it begin to hinder my ability to teach all the students in my classroom?

the most adorable cousins ever

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Originally uploaded by marmahan.

my grandparents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary this past weekend in oklahoma. there was a ridiculous amount of family there and i got to meet one cousin for the first time. whitney is 6, but i haven't seen her family in probably 8 years. she and her sister wendy were the cutest kids i've seen in a really long time. they are absurdly articulate, so much so that talking to whitney is like visiting with a child twice her age. at the same time, they are bubbling with energy. during a concert friday night, whitney physically could not stop squirming and i found it almost impossible to tell her no when she flashed that heart-stopping smile at me. besides being cute enought to eat, they are brilliant. they're fluent in japanese and whitney wrote me a poem. she's 6 and she wrote me a poem. are you kidding me? when i was 6 i would've been happy to color inside the lines. needless to say, i'm thoroughly impressed and can't wait to go to florida to visit them.