This entry is courtesy of my colleague at the school, T. E. He teaches Intro to Psychology, and we share an office. T. has an amazing life story I would love to tell you, but I am not at liberty to as of yet. However, we love to share student stories, and this one is no exception. This is an email he received from one of his students this week (remember, he teaches Psychology). With the exception of names, I am typing this email verbatim:
hello professor E.,
this is ________ _________, my final project will be based on the mind of a cereal killer. it will be call "inside the mind of a cereal killer. i want to know if you think it that topic is to broad.
Ahhh.....college.....
Friday, October 9, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
John C.
Ok, so I really do not mean to just write about my school experiences, but some of this stuff just writes itself. I couldn't make it up if I tried. Here is the story of John C.:
John is a white guy, probably in his late fifties. This is his first semester of college. Ever. He is a nice guy, asks a lot of questions, and is straight outta Staten Island. Usually after class, a few students will hang around while I get my stuff together and ask questions or just talk to me about current events or speech topics, etc. On Monday, John hung around, and I asked him why he was in school at this time in his life. He explained to me how he was a tugboat captain in the Hudson River. He was actually one of the guys who helped pluck the plane survivors out of the water. But he is being forced into early retirement because of a pacemaker, so he has decided to go back to school. I asked him how long he had been a tugboat captain. The rest of the conversation went something like this:
John: I've had my tugboat license for, like, 35 years?
Me: Cool.
John: Yeah, I got my license through the coast guard, but then I became a city cop.
Me: NYPD?
John: Yeah, I did that for a while, then I uh, had to go away...
Me: Like, away away?
John: Yeah, like 12 years...
Me: (Head tilt) huh......
John: Yeah, I was a cop, but I was also a cop who robbed banks....
He then went on in graphic detail about a crooked cop's first night in general population too graphic to type here), and how over the course of 12 years he was moved to 19 different prisons, spending most of it in solitary confinement. He wanted to know if he could do a speech on the death penalty, because after his prison stay he was against it. I asked what changed his mind specifically. He told of how in his wing in solitary there were 2 men who had kidnapped a 10 year old child in Massachusetts and killed him and then brutally raped him (The Curly Murder) and that the lives of these 2 men were so horrible in prison that they would stand on their heads on the toilets to try to commit suicide by drowning because there is no death penalty in Massachusetts. He decided right then that death was too easy for those "scumbags." Huh.
He said though it near destroyed his family, prison changed him. He was definitely rehabilitated and felt he had paid his debt. I told him that I agreed with him, that once the debt is paid, it was time to move on. Though I did mention that a child molester, though having paid his time, should probably not be allowed to teach children.
"Yeah," he replied,"and I should probably never be allowed to work in a bank."
John is a white guy, probably in his late fifties. This is his first semester of college. Ever. He is a nice guy, asks a lot of questions, and is straight outta Staten Island. Usually after class, a few students will hang around while I get my stuff together and ask questions or just talk to me about current events or speech topics, etc. On Monday, John hung around, and I asked him why he was in school at this time in his life. He explained to me how he was a tugboat captain in the Hudson River. He was actually one of the guys who helped pluck the plane survivors out of the water. But he is being forced into early retirement because of a pacemaker, so he has decided to go back to school. I asked him how long he had been a tugboat captain. The rest of the conversation went something like this:
John: I've had my tugboat license for, like, 35 years?
Me: Cool.
John: Yeah, I got my license through the coast guard, but then I became a city cop.
Me: NYPD?
John: Yeah, I did that for a while, then I uh, had to go away...
Me: Like, away away?
John: Yeah, like 12 years...
Me: (Head tilt) huh......
John: Yeah, I was a cop, but I was also a cop who robbed banks....
He then went on in graphic detail about a crooked cop's first night in general population too graphic to type here), and how over the course of 12 years he was moved to 19 different prisons, spending most of it in solitary confinement. He wanted to know if he could do a speech on the death penalty, because after his prison stay he was against it. I asked what changed his mind specifically. He told of how in his wing in solitary there were 2 men who had kidnapped a 10 year old child in Massachusetts and killed him and then brutally raped him (The Curly Murder) and that the lives of these 2 men were so horrible in prison that they would stand on their heads on the toilets to try to commit suicide by drowning because there is no death penalty in Massachusetts. He decided right then that death was too easy for those "scumbags." Huh.
He said though it near destroyed his family, prison changed him. He was definitely rehabilitated and felt he had paid his debt. I told him that I agreed with him, that once the debt is paid, it was time to move on. Though I did mention that a child molester, though having paid his time, should probably not be allowed to teach children.
"Yeah," he replied,"and I should probably never be allowed to work in a bank."
I <3 You...
So every day around lunch time on campus they have something special going on in the student lounge. Sometimes its "Leadership Day," or a Job Fair, or any number of different organizations hosting an event or sign-up for something. I walk through the Student Lounge on the way to some of my classes, so I am somewhat aware of what is going on.
This past Monday was Cardiovascular Awareness Day. They had set up a red table with red balloons and were handing out red fliers with tips on how to lower your blood pressure, cholesterol, and healthy diet and exercise tips. They were also handing out slices of a heart shaped red velvet cake from a local bakery. Without the slightest hint of irony.
This past Monday was Cardiovascular Awareness Day. They had set up a red table with red balloons and were handing out red fliers with tips on how to lower your blood pressure, cholesterol, and healthy diet and exercise tips. They were also handing out slices of a heart shaped red velvet cake from a local bakery. Without the slightest hint of irony.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Minh
The semester is in full swing, and I am just getting used to this full-time faculty thing. For those of you that do not know, I was offered a full-time assistant professor position at the college I taught for last year. I am teaching 6 sections of Public Speaking (yes, that is LOTS of speeches to sit through) and for the first time in my life as a non-student I have full medical, dental and vision care. I already feel healthier, I haven't even been to the doctor yet. I am still keeping shifts at the restaurant, because, why not really? SO there will still be PLENTY of server stories. But today I have a tale of a different kind:
I love teaching. More than I ever thought I would. I especially love the students at this school. I teach in a VERY urban environment. I currently have 150 students, and including me, there are four Caucasians. Very few speak English as a first language, and some were born here in the US, but English was never spoken in their home. By the time they get to my class, ideally they have passed Level 5 ESL. Ideally.
Early in the semester, it is important that I get them in front of the class every week leading up to their first speeches, so they can get used to standing in front of people and hearing their voices in the room. Yesterday I had them tell a fun or interesting story from their past, encouraging them to be animated (I am an actress after all...). Many told of falling off bikes and getting stitches, getting caught drinking by their parents, moving to the United States, etc. Then Minh spoke.
Minh said his age at 48 years old. He looks much older, but I have found in this population that years are not necessarily kind, such a far cry from the city just heartbeats away. Minh is short in stature and rather round. And jolly. As he began speaking it took a second to get used to his dialect, and his occasional nervous laughter as he told this story:
Many years ago, when he was just a student in his native South Vietnam, he went to a coffee shop to read and sip his morning coffee. As he was doing the crossword (yes, that is what he said) two guards came up to him and asked to see his identification card. He had inadvertently left his house without his ID. He explained to the guards (his words) that he did not have his ID with him. They threw him to the ground and threatened to take him away if he did not show his card. He pleaded with them to let him run to his house and get it, but they would not. They arrested him on the spot for failure to show ID and he was immediately sent away to EIGHT years of hard labor. His family never knew what happened to him. He had no contact with them. After eight years he was released, moved to the States, got married and now 12 years later is starting college as a nursing student. He laughed, looked at the class, and said "Isn't that crazy?"
I sat there, speechless, and thought about just the other day when I was complaining to a friend how I had never been to Disney world.
I love teaching. More than I ever thought I would. I especially love the students at this school. I teach in a VERY urban environment. I currently have 150 students, and including me, there are four Caucasians. Very few speak English as a first language, and some were born here in the US, but English was never spoken in their home. By the time they get to my class, ideally they have passed Level 5 ESL. Ideally.
Early in the semester, it is important that I get them in front of the class every week leading up to their first speeches, so they can get used to standing in front of people and hearing their voices in the room. Yesterday I had them tell a fun or interesting story from their past, encouraging them to be animated (I am an actress after all...). Many told of falling off bikes and getting stitches, getting caught drinking by their parents, moving to the United States, etc. Then Minh spoke.
Minh said his age at 48 years old. He looks much older, but I have found in this population that years are not necessarily kind, such a far cry from the city just heartbeats away. Minh is short in stature and rather round. And jolly. As he began speaking it took a second to get used to his dialect, and his occasional nervous laughter as he told this story:
Many years ago, when he was just a student in his native South Vietnam, he went to a coffee shop to read and sip his morning coffee. As he was doing the crossword (yes, that is what he said) two guards came up to him and asked to see his identification card. He had inadvertently left his house without his ID. He explained to the guards (his words) that he did not have his ID with him. They threw him to the ground and threatened to take him away if he did not show his card. He pleaded with them to let him run to his house and get it, but they would not. They arrested him on the spot for failure to show ID and he was immediately sent away to EIGHT years of hard labor. His family never knew what happened to him. He had no contact with them. After eight years he was released, moved to the States, got married and now 12 years later is starting college as a nursing student. He laughed, looked at the class, and said "Isn't that crazy?"
I sat there, speechless, and thought about just the other day when I was complaining to a friend how I had never been to Disney world.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Subway Stories
So I am on the subway yesterday, on my way to work. Not my favorite journey, but one for which I am grateful. This young boy is setting next to me. He is small, Caucasian, seems to be around 9, which looks too young to be riding the train into Manhattan by himself, but I was not raised a city kid, so what do I know?
As we enter the Lexington Avenue station, a large homeless man enters the car and starts panhandling. I am so used to this that I very easily ignore it, burying my nose into my book, when I notice the boy next to me pulls out his wallet. He gets up and walks up to the beggar and holds out a dollar. I am watching this with great interest, ready and willing to step in and really hoping I do not have to.
Man: (Looking around nervously) Hey kid, I can't take your money.
Boy: Please take it!
Man: Ummm... you with some school or somethin'???
Boy: No sir...I am by myself (!?!) please, I want to give this to you.
Man: yeah - well, do you have any change? Like a nickel or quarter or something?
Boy: No sir, just a dollar. Take it, really.
Man: Do you have more money on you? I can't take all your money.
Boy pulls out his wallet and shows the man that yes, he does have plenty more money.
Man: (taking the dollar) ok, well, thanks. (Looks at woman sitting next to him as he gets off the train) I ain't on drugs or nothin'. I just gotta eat.
The boy comes back and sits next to me. I feel it is my personal responsibility and duty to teach this dear boy a lesson.
Me: You know, I think it was really sweet of you to give that man a dollar.
Boy: Thank you.
Me: However, you should be careful taking out your wallet and showing him your money. Especially on a crowded subway.
Boy: Its ok. I am in Billy Elliott.
And with that, he got off the train at 42nd street and headed to his Broadway gig, and I headed down to my waiting tables job, which supplements my teaching gig.
Maybe I should have asked him for a dollar.
As we enter the Lexington Avenue station, a large homeless man enters the car and starts panhandling. I am so used to this that I very easily ignore it, burying my nose into my book, when I notice the boy next to me pulls out his wallet. He gets up and walks up to the beggar and holds out a dollar. I am watching this with great interest, ready and willing to step in and really hoping I do not have to.
Man: (Looking around nervously) Hey kid, I can't take your money.
Boy: Please take it!
Man: Ummm... you with some school or somethin'???
Boy: No sir...I am by myself (!?!) please, I want to give this to you.
Man: yeah - well, do you have any change? Like a nickel or quarter or something?
Boy: No sir, just a dollar. Take it, really.
Man: Do you have more money on you? I can't take all your money.
Boy pulls out his wallet and shows the man that yes, he does have plenty more money.
Man: (taking the dollar) ok, well, thanks. (Looks at woman sitting next to him as he gets off the train) I ain't on drugs or nothin'. I just gotta eat.
The boy comes back and sits next to me. I feel it is my personal responsibility and duty to teach this dear boy a lesson.
Me: You know, I think it was really sweet of you to give that man a dollar.
Boy: Thank you.
Me: However, you should be careful taking out your wallet and showing him your money. Especially on a crowded subway.
Boy: Its ok. I am in Billy Elliott.
And with that, he got off the train at 42nd street and headed to his Broadway gig, and I headed down to my waiting tables job, which supplements my teaching gig.
Maybe I should have asked him for a dollar.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
5,000 Steps
So every day we are supposed to get, like, 5,000 steps for good health. 10,000 if we want to lose weight. In an effort to do both, every morning I set my alarm, put on my sneakers (which I leave right by the bed) strap on the pedometer and head out. I aim for the 5,000, since I work 7 hours on my feet and do not have a car, so I walk everywhere. I should really be thin. Heck, I should be STUDIED!!! Anyhoo...
Once I am out the door, I love my walk. Astoria Queens is the most diverse neighborhood in the nation, with the most diverse languages. In the 3 block radius of my apartment, there are 3 Brazilian delis, a Pakistani restaurant, the best Greek food this side of Athens, an Irish pub, and an evangelical Korean church. I love it. And I have started taking pictures of it. So today's blog is a "Get to know my neighbor's" blog. Here is what I pass on my daily round:
Not a great picture, I realize. This sign in the window actually covers the whole front of the building with pictures of hands reaching up in worship. Pretty cool, huh? But wait. It gets even better.....
Need a closer look???
That's right...not only do they promise SHORT SERVICES, but they also guarantee the services are FILLED WITH MIRACLES!!! What's not to love???? One of these Sundays, I am going to try it out. Services start at 11, so I should be home, healed, and blogged by 11:15. Check back...
Once I am out the door, I love my walk. Astoria Queens is the most diverse neighborhood in the nation, with the most diverse languages. In the 3 block radius of my apartment, there are 3 Brazilian delis, a Pakistani restaurant, the best Greek food this side of Athens, an Irish pub, and an evangelical Korean church. I love it. And I have started taking pictures of it. So today's blog is a "Get to know my neighbor's" blog. Here is what I pass on my daily round:
Not a great picture, I realize. This sign in the window actually covers the whole front of the building with pictures of hands reaching up in worship. Pretty cool, huh? But wait. It gets even better.....
Need a closer look???
That's right...not only do they promise SHORT SERVICES, but they also guarantee the services are FILLED WITH MIRACLES!!! What's not to love???? One of these Sundays, I am going to try it out. Services start at 11, so I should be home, healed, and blogged by 11:15. Check back...
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Hello out there.....
What a year it has been! Like the new look? I missed the bloggity blog blog, so I decided to reinstate it. Since I was last connected here, I started a teaching job which has been life changing, a writing gig that has proved to be just as rewarding, and generally moving forward in this great journey we call life. So I've lots of stories, dear readers, and I will try my darndest to be prolific this go round. I ask you to join me. Support me with your comments, questions, and readership. Check back later - there is more to come.
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