No one likes being the bad guy, but I have to say that trumping a class full of rude children felt good today. I got the combination in a flash of inspiration and today some real work got done.
For every second of time they wasted in my class today, third period, I made them pay me back in being late for lunch. Today we sat a whole minute in total silence (Which seems like a long time under those circumstances) before they left for lunch. This put them firmly at the end of the lunch lines. Further if they are late to lunch they don't get to use the pillows or couches during reading time after lunch.
I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings. My gut says that the war isn't over, but for now I won a crucial battle. Tonight I will enjoy the success.
The fact that this is my gifted class, the best and brightest is probably what makes me craziest. These kids know better and further they are the kids who will be our leaders someday. What does it mean if they have no self discipline and no respect for authority. The other thing is they are really great kids, bright and funny and outgoing, but when they are rude, disrespectful and ignore directions all that potential disappears behind a shield of yuck!
It astounds me that no one has effectively taken them in hand. This is not testing limits in my opinion. No one has enforced order with these kids before. They seem genuinely puzzled and confused by my frustration with their behavior.
But tonight I am content.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Teacher Frustration
It is really starting to be apparent to me that I am a better teacher with my team teacher. Having her out on maternity leave is starting to make me feel like someone cut off my right arm. This is funny to me because in the past I always thought team teaching was a stupid waste of resources. This was even when I was the team teacher, rather than the lead teacher.
I guess it just goes to show the difference a good match can make.
The kids in my classes this year simply do not understand the concept of following directions. The worst class of all is the gifted class. They are told to read silently, they literally talk the minute I say begin. When I ask them to stop, they do for two minutes, then they are back at it. I separate people, I discipline, nothing is working. I feel like I am turning into an ogre. I mean I can feel my skin turning green and my ears becoming funnels just thinking about it. I can't imagine what I look like in class. I wouldn't be surprised if a donkey, (who sounds like Eddie Murphy!) discussing onions and parfaits and layers, joined me in the near future!
Battle of wills is never a good thing in class. And to be fail this is not a willful thing on their part, I think, or I keep telling myself. Mostly no one has really made them stick to this before. I'm going to have to come up with something and quickly if I want this to be a good year all around for all of us.
Wouldn't t be nice if it was as simple as it is in the inspirational movies about teachers. Or even the books. While those movies and books are encouraging I also find them depressing. There is so much that is left out, the trial and error, the sleepless nights and no cool theme music to get your blood pumping. Those books and movies also make it sound like (or make me feel like anyway) that the rest of us teachers must be inadequate slugs who accomplish nothing because no one is making a movie about how I finally got little Tommy to do his homework once a week rather than once a month. Then there is also the fact that high school kids, 9th graders in general are just so different than any other year. Then again all grade levels will tell you that their year is unique. We are all right I imagine.
When I first started teaching I preferred 12th graders. "I can reason with them," I said. "9th grade is too close to middle school." But as a teacher I am more challenged (and therefore sometimes more rewarded) by 9th grade. I just don't have as much hair (what with all the pulling it out.)
Robin will be back on Monday. This has to get better.
I guess it just goes to show the difference a good match can make.
The kids in my classes this year simply do not understand the concept of following directions. The worst class of all is the gifted class. They are told to read silently, they literally talk the minute I say begin. When I ask them to stop, they do for two minutes, then they are back at it. I separate people, I discipline, nothing is working. I feel like I am turning into an ogre. I mean I can feel my skin turning green and my ears becoming funnels just thinking about it. I can't imagine what I look like in class. I wouldn't be surprised if a donkey, (who sounds like Eddie Murphy!) discussing onions and parfaits and layers, joined me in the near future!
Battle of wills is never a good thing in class. And to be fail this is not a willful thing on their part, I think, or I keep telling myself. Mostly no one has really made them stick to this before. I'm going to have to come up with something and quickly if I want this to be a good year all around for all of us.
Wouldn't t be nice if it was as simple as it is in the inspirational movies about teachers. Or even the books. While those movies and books are encouraging I also find them depressing. There is so much that is left out, the trial and error, the sleepless nights and no cool theme music to get your blood pumping. Those books and movies also make it sound like (or make me feel like anyway) that the rest of us teachers must be inadequate slugs who accomplish nothing because no one is making a movie about how I finally got little Tommy to do his homework once a week rather than once a month. Then there is also the fact that high school kids, 9th graders in general are just so different than any other year. Then again all grade levels will tell you that their year is unique. We are all right I imagine.
When I first started teaching I preferred 12th graders. "I can reason with them," I said. "9th grade is too close to middle school." But as a teacher I am more challenged (and therefore sometimes more rewarded) by 9th grade. I just don't have as much hair (what with all the pulling it out.)
Robin will be back on Monday. This has to get better.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Excuse Me?
Warning! Camp Flashback!
Today I got an e-mail from the people who run the people who run camp (no that was not a typo). Seems a mother e-mailed them complaining that I didn't take her son's illness seriously enough, didn't contact her, threatened her child, called him a baby and (drum roll please) ruined their vacation. The e-mail was clearly worded to indicate that she thought I ought to be fired. Personally I would love to post the piece of trash and explain what a bovine, spoiled brat she and her child are in excruciating detail, but my rule is I never post other people's e-mails on my blog. So instead, let me tell you what it said!
She explained that her child came to me on the last Thursday of the last week of June (she waited over a month to complain about something she feels I should be fired for????) and that he told me he had strep, that his sister had just had strep and having had it before he knew it was strep. Apparently I told him he was just dehydrated, called him a homesick baby and threatened to drill needles into his arm full of IV fluids if he came back to see me, because he was simply dehydrated. This meant that he being terrified of me, didn't come back and when his parents came to get him Friday afternoon (early, I might add) he was now very sick, and they had to scramble for Urgent Care, find an all night pharmacy (much stress and misery on their part is explained and documented here) and then said boy was horribly sick during the first two days of vacation and ruined it for everyone. This is all the "camp nurse's fault." Besides, strep is not something you play around with (No? I play pong with it daily!) and I should at least be reprimanded. I should have taken her child's whining and complaining seriously, because she knows he would never be homesick or snivelling, much less dehydrated!
Yes, the air is thin here up on my high horse.
I could scream.
Thankfully this letter was sent to the people who run the BSA council and they apologized on camp's behalf for any dissatisfaction and are going to go over the case so I can better serve people next summer. If it had been sent to me I would have told the woman to enroll her son in Liar's Anonymous and get herself some therapy and a reality check.
Any child who comes into my office complaining of Strep symptoms, who tells me about family with strep or who thinks they have strep is examined for strep (throat peak, gland check and fever check). Then I have them come back if there are no signs, but symptoms persist. I have been known to show hesitant drinkers my hypodermic needle, but I have never threatened anyone with an IV or told them not to come back (counterproductive for several reasons smart people can think of). Often an easy way to contract an illness is to be dehydrated, and having no recollection of this kid or this case, I imagine the kid reeked of ketosis which is how I know they are dehydrated. (Yes, I smell children to diagnose, it works!) I have never ever even called a camper a baby, cry baby or moron to their face and I never even use the terms to their scout leaders, though the scout leader often use the term for the child to me.
Then there is the timing. If it happened Thursday night, and they got there Friday afternoon, how could the outcome have been much different? Even if they came up Thursday night, still would have been an Urgent Care, midnight pharmacy run (and don't most Urgent Care's and Emergency rooms have some pharmacy ability for just this reason?) I figure either the scoutmaster said this stuff to the kid and the kid is blaming me, or the parents were mad at the kid for "ruining" their vacation and he therefore passed the buck or mom is an idiot and the apple didn't fall far from the tree! (How is that for Christian love and understanding!)
The thing about this is I hate people who lie, pass the buck and complain in such a way that they risk nothing and are just being mean and spiteful. This woman said she wanted to be constructive. As a teacher (And an English one at that) there was nothing in her letter the least bit helpful or constructive. It was just unnecessary. I hope it made her feel better.
In the grand scheme of things it doesn't matter anyway, the camp people essentially backed me, though smoothing over ruffled feathers, and it's August now, so who cares! But grrrrrr!
That still just frosts my flakes!
Today I got an e-mail from the people who run the people who run camp (no that was not a typo). Seems a mother e-mailed them complaining that I didn't take her son's illness seriously enough, didn't contact her, threatened her child, called him a baby and (drum roll please) ruined their vacation. The e-mail was clearly worded to indicate that she thought I ought to be fired. Personally I would love to post the piece of trash and explain what a bovine, spoiled brat she and her child are in excruciating detail, but my rule is I never post other people's e-mails on my blog. So instead, let me tell you what it said!
She explained that her child came to me on the last Thursday of the last week of June (she waited over a month to complain about something she feels I should be fired for????) and that he told me he had strep, that his sister had just had strep and having had it before he knew it was strep. Apparently I told him he was just dehydrated, called him a homesick baby and threatened to drill needles into his arm full of IV fluids if he came back to see me, because he was simply dehydrated. This meant that he being terrified of me, didn't come back and when his parents came to get him Friday afternoon (early, I might add) he was now very sick, and they had to scramble for Urgent Care, find an all night pharmacy (much stress and misery on their part is explained and documented here) and then said boy was horribly sick during the first two days of vacation and ruined it for everyone. This is all the "camp nurse's fault." Besides, strep is not something you play around with (No? I play pong with it daily!) and I should at least be reprimanded. I should have taken her child's whining and complaining seriously, because she knows he would never be homesick or snivelling, much less dehydrated!
Yes, the air is thin here up on my high horse.
I could scream.
Thankfully this letter was sent to the people who run the BSA council and they apologized on camp's behalf for any dissatisfaction and are going to go over the case so I can better serve people next summer. If it had been sent to me I would have told the woman to enroll her son in Liar's Anonymous and get herself some therapy and a reality check.
Any child who comes into my office complaining of Strep symptoms, who tells me about family with strep or who thinks they have strep is examined for strep (throat peak, gland check and fever check). Then I have them come back if there are no signs, but symptoms persist. I have been known to show hesitant drinkers my hypodermic needle, but I have never threatened anyone with an IV or told them not to come back (counterproductive for several reasons smart people can think of). Often an easy way to contract an illness is to be dehydrated, and having no recollection of this kid or this case, I imagine the kid reeked of ketosis which is how I know they are dehydrated. (Yes, I smell children to diagnose, it works!) I have never ever even called a camper a baby, cry baby or moron to their face and I never even use the terms to their scout leaders, though the scout leader often use the term for the child to me.
Then there is the timing. If it happened Thursday night, and they got there Friday afternoon, how could the outcome have been much different? Even if they came up Thursday night, still would have been an Urgent Care, midnight pharmacy run (and don't most Urgent Care's and Emergency rooms have some pharmacy ability for just this reason?) I figure either the scoutmaster said this stuff to the kid and the kid is blaming me, or the parents were mad at the kid for "ruining" their vacation and he therefore passed the buck or mom is an idiot and the apple didn't fall far from the tree! (How is that for Christian love and understanding!)
The thing about this is I hate people who lie, pass the buck and complain in such a way that they risk nothing and are just being mean and spiteful. This woman said she wanted to be constructive. As a teacher (And an English one at that) there was nothing in her letter the least bit helpful or constructive. It was just unnecessary. I hope it made her feel better.
In the grand scheme of things it doesn't matter anyway, the camp people essentially backed me, though smoothing over ruffled feathers, and it's August now, so who cares! But grrrrrr!
That still just frosts my flakes!
Thursday, August 17, 2006
And how is that your business?
Granted, I recognize I am writing a blog which is about being open and putting it out there, etc, but that is my choice with my life and information, not anyone else's. If I discuss someone else I make sure that strangers wouldn't know who I am talking about and if it's not strangers I wouldn't say something about someone I know (who reads this blog or is known by people who do) that I wouldn't (and already have) most likely said to their face.
This is not the same issue.
This year at school I am the coverage coordinator. If a teacher has to go home for emergency or something at the last minute or if a sub doesn't show up for someone, I am in charge of coordinating teachers during their planning period to cover that absent teacher. Mostly it's just a matter of organization. Two things are kind of interesting about this responsibility. People always look slightly panicked when I enter their room (please don't tell me I have to give up my planning today!) and I end up knowing more about people at my job's personal lives than I ever thought I would. Usually if someone's not at work I think, "Oh, they aren't at work today. Hope they are okay, all they love are okay and if I can help they ask." Then I stop thinking about it. I have classes to teach, papers to grade, teenager's raging hormones/egos to crush. Now that I am coverage coordinator I stop by my assistant principal's office most mornings and check to see "what's up." Or if it happens in the middle of the day an administrator or teacher comes to me. More often than not, every time so far, I am told why that person is not there, going home, needs help, etc. Even then mostly it's no big. Sick, car trouble, kid sick, etc. But this month, so far a lot of people have morning sickness (which to be fair is the sign of a happy work place... People are comfortable enough here to be working on their families) and one person had a miscarriage (so you know, no one I work with has this blog address to my knowledge). Stuff like that doesn't stay secret anyway, but people keep asking me what I know, when I knew it and what I think.
And how is that any of your business? What difference does that make? Why do you care?
Does it make your day better? Don't you think if they considered you someone who should know they will include you. If they will isn't it their right to decide when? If I was willing to talk about their issues doesn't it stand to reason I'll talk about yours? Did you really want to have that dread, because in my position I will know. This is part of my responsibility so I am polite yet firm, but...
Life was easier when I only had to be "aware" of my own problems.
I expect these kinds of questions as the camp medic. People are curious why there was an ambulance at camp, are their kids safe, etc. I give generals, not specifics and most troops don't relay know each other. Besides, as long as the kid lived if someone asks directly about "that kid that fell, got cut, drowned, etc" I say, "They're fine, now." and leave it at that. If they ask the troop I check to make sure it isn't theirs (in which case I still stay vague, depending, but can be a little more specific for the sake of panic and spin control). If they ask for specifics of the injury I smile and say "Sorry can't discuss that." That is easy. Here at work, we all know each other, the conversation is different.
"Hey, so I'm covering for X. Is she pregnant?"
"I can't answer that."
"Does that mean yes?"
"No."
"So she's not. Or she's not anymore? Did she miscarry?"
"I can't answer that."
"Does that mean yes?"
"No!"
"What does it mean then?"
"It means I won't discuss people's personal lives like this!"
"Fine, don't get huffy. I was just curious. Besides if I have to cover for them I ought to know why."
"OK, when someone has to cover for you I'll be sure and tell them why you aren't there. How's the alcoholism, hepatitis and homosexuality coming?"
Yes, I made the last part up. I just smile and say "I'll let the administration know your concerns."
This is not the same issue.
This year at school I am the coverage coordinator. If a teacher has to go home for emergency or something at the last minute or if a sub doesn't show up for someone, I am in charge of coordinating teachers during their planning period to cover that absent teacher. Mostly it's just a matter of organization. Two things are kind of interesting about this responsibility. People always look slightly panicked when I enter their room (please don't tell me I have to give up my planning today!) and I end up knowing more about people at my job's personal lives than I ever thought I would. Usually if someone's not at work I think, "Oh, they aren't at work today. Hope they are okay, all they love are okay and if I can help they ask." Then I stop thinking about it. I have classes to teach, papers to grade, teenager's raging hormones/egos to crush. Now that I am coverage coordinator I stop by my assistant principal's office most mornings and check to see "what's up." Or if it happens in the middle of the day an administrator or teacher comes to me. More often than not, every time so far, I am told why that person is not there, going home, needs help, etc. Even then mostly it's no big. Sick, car trouble, kid sick, etc. But this month, so far a lot of people have morning sickness (which to be fair is the sign of a happy work place... People are comfortable enough here to be working on their families) and one person had a miscarriage (so you know, no one I work with has this blog address to my knowledge). Stuff like that doesn't stay secret anyway, but people keep asking me what I know, when I knew it and what I think.
And how is that any of your business? What difference does that make? Why do you care?
Does it make your day better? Don't you think if they considered you someone who should know they will include you. If they will isn't it their right to decide when? If I was willing to talk about their issues doesn't it stand to reason I'll talk about yours? Did you really want to have that dread, because in my position I will know. This is part of my responsibility so I am polite yet firm, but...
Life was easier when I only had to be "aware" of my own problems.
I expect these kinds of questions as the camp medic. People are curious why there was an ambulance at camp, are their kids safe, etc. I give generals, not specifics and most troops don't relay know each other. Besides, as long as the kid lived if someone asks directly about "that kid that fell, got cut, drowned, etc" I say, "They're fine, now." and leave it at that. If they ask the troop I check to make sure it isn't theirs (in which case I still stay vague, depending, but can be a little more specific for the sake of panic and spin control). If they ask for specifics of the injury I smile and say "Sorry can't discuss that." That is easy. Here at work, we all know each other, the conversation is different.
"Hey, so I'm covering for X. Is she pregnant?"
"I can't answer that."
"Does that mean yes?"
"No."
"So she's not. Or she's not anymore? Did she miscarry?"
"I can't answer that."
"Does that mean yes?"
"No!"
"What does it mean then?"
"It means I won't discuss people's personal lives like this!"
"Fine, don't get huffy. I was just curious. Besides if I have to cover for them I ought to know why."
"OK, when someone has to cover for you I'll be sure and tell them why you aren't there. How's the alcoholism, hepatitis and homosexuality coming?"
Yes, I made the last part up. I just smile and say "I'll let the administration know your concerns."
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
I resign
Called Dad yesterday and resigned as an adult. It cost over $1500 to get everything fixed on my car. I told Dad I was ready to go back to being a kid and I needed him to help me figure out how to manage all this stuff. He just laughed.
Nana told me that she thinks I take incredibly good care of things. "Look at all you've accomplished in forty years." Thanks, Nana, I'm thirty.
Parent's night was Tuesday. As I was talking to a mom and her son, the dear boy looked at me and said, "What did you read when you were young." Not younger, just young. Because I'm not young anymore. Apparently.
So I am resigning as a adult. I want to go back to being young.
Oh, and this is so precious. The little boy of my trainer was trying to explain to his Dad that it wasn't his fault that he yelled and carried on last night, he had just gotten "over-exaggerated." We had a good laugh about that one. Guess you have to be an adult to find it funny though. When I mentioned it to my students didn't get it. Maybe age has a perk or two?
Nana told me that she thinks I take incredibly good care of things. "Look at all you've accomplished in forty years." Thanks, Nana, I'm thirty.
Parent's night was Tuesday. As I was talking to a mom and her son, the dear boy looked at me and said, "What did you read when you were young." Not younger, just young. Because I'm not young anymore. Apparently.
So I am resigning as a adult. I want to go back to being young.
Oh, and this is so precious. The little boy of my trainer was trying to explain to his Dad that it wasn't his fault that he yelled and carried on last night, he had just gotten "over-exaggerated." We had a good laugh about that one. Guess you have to be an adult to find it funny though. When I mentioned it to my students didn't get it. Maybe age has a perk or two?
Monday, August 14, 2006
The Birth of a book
So today I was sitting in class as my students listened to "The Birds" and I began working on my novel, tweaking, looking, etc and just hit a vein and before I knew there were pages everywhere. What a rush! I imagine I'll hate it all tomorrow and rip it up, but for tonight I am content to bask in the purge of words.
I wrote my first stories in second grade I think, no wait, first. It was about George and Martha. Those two hippos from James Marshall. I met him, actually. He was really neat. Or a first graders idea of really neat. Then in second grade I wrote a story about Peter Rabbit, Beatrix Potters' playmate. I didn't really write much like that again until I was in middle school. Then the stuff was pouring out of me.
I remember in 10th grade working on a story and two of my friends would get to gym class early every morning so they could read the next bit. That's also the year I started to work on my novel. I wrote everyday, all the time. I had over 100 hand written pages (front and back single spaced!) Several of my class mates commented that I was a freak. Well, they tended to call me that anyway, but one boy (and if I get this novel published I think I will dedicate it to him...) turned around, looked at me and said, you wrote all that? I said, rather defensively, yeah. He smiled and said cool. We were never really close friends, and we never really hung out. When I saw him at the reunion almost two years ago now, I thanked him, but he didn't remember. But I kept writing.
In college I wrote a lot. Not on the novel, but a lot. Then as I started really working on my English degree and my masters, the writing kind of dried up. Well sort of. I wrote a lot of poetry in grad school, but it was all that love-angst kind of stuff. It was also all very religious, except for the one about the toilet in love with the sink. That one I may get published someday too. It's called a "Water Closet Romance."
Then a couple years ago I got this idea to work on the novel again. I felt like I couldn't go on to any other big projects until this one was completed. Like having a fifteen year old fetus still dragging around. So I keep trying. I think I actually have the plan all worked out and a decent beginning. Maybe if today was an indication. This baby is ready to be born. I may not ever show it to anyone, but it will be completed. I think it's time.
I wrote my first stories in second grade I think, no wait, first. It was about George and Martha. Those two hippos from James Marshall. I met him, actually. He was really neat. Or a first graders idea of really neat. Then in second grade I wrote a story about Peter Rabbit, Beatrix Potters' playmate. I didn't really write much like that again until I was in middle school. Then the stuff was pouring out of me.
I remember in 10th grade working on a story and two of my friends would get to gym class early every morning so they could read the next bit. That's also the year I started to work on my novel. I wrote everyday, all the time. I had over 100 hand written pages (front and back single spaced!) Several of my class mates commented that I was a freak. Well, they tended to call me that anyway, but one boy (and if I get this novel published I think I will dedicate it to him...) turned around, looked at me and said, you wrote all that? I said, rather defensively, yeah. He smiled and said cool. We were never really close friends, and we never really hung out. When I saw him at the reunion almost two years ago now, I thanked him, but he didn't remember. But I kept writing.
In college I wrote a lot. Not on the novel, but a lot. Then as I started really working on my English degree and my masters, the writing kind of dried up. Well sort of. I wrote a lot of poetry in grad school, but it was all that love-angst kind of stuff. It was also all very religious, except for the one about the toilet in love with the sink. That one I may get published someday too. It's called a "Water Closet Romance."
Then a couple years ago I got this idea to work on the novel again. I felt like I couldn't go on to any other big projects until this one was completed. Like having a fifteen year old fetus still dragging around. So I keep trying. I think I actually have the plan all worked out and a decent beginning. Maybe if today was an indication. This baby is ready to be born. I may not ever show it to anyone, but it will be completed. I think it's time.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Readjusting
First, not being able to blog at school is frustrating. I mean I know why they did it and all, but that is my best writing time. It's harder at home and I want to write everyday... At least weekday like last year.
Also, now that I'm working out again and with out Robin at school, I'm just tired. I imagine it will take a week or so more to get back into the swing.
In some ways I have simplified this year a lot in comparison to previous. No big projects this semester (so far anyway) and I am not planning to try to start any. Other ways it is more hectic. It's like each day, each year gets shorter each time. Is this growing old? God Help me!
Pipper is back from the vet and a much happier Sheltie. Apparently he fractured a back tooth and then an infection developed underneath the root. Yikes! They pulled the tooth and he's eating again. Between him and Roo the bill (dental, care, medicine, blood tests, you name it) topped $700. Nana and I just laughed and said, "They're worth it." And they are, but my teeth don't even cost that much and my mouth is bigger and I bite more often! Also, the only way he could have fractured a tooth was if he was chewing on rocks? Why would he do that? All he has to do is wait for Nana to doze off and he can have whatever is on her plate? Rocks!
Roo refused to use the stairs I got her so that she can get into bed herself. She just looks at me like, "You don't love me anymore?" When I try to get her to try.
Overheard in the hallway as I exited to run an errand, "That is one big lady." "Do you think she is Hagrid's sister?"
Also, now that I'm working out again and with out Robin at school, I'm just tired. I imagine it will take a week or so more to get back into the swing.
In some ways I have simplified this year a lot in comparison to previous. No big projects this semester (so far anyway) and I am not planning to try to start any. Other ways it is more hectic. It's like each day, each year gets shorter each time. Is this growing old? God Help me!
Pipper is back from the vet and a much happier Sheltie. Apparently he fractured a back tooth and then an infection developed underneath the root. Yikes! They pulled the tooth and he's eating again. Between him and Roo the bill (dental, care, medicine, blood tests, you name it) topped $700. Nana and I just laughed and said, "They're worth it." And they are, but my teeth don't even cost that much and my mouth is bigger and I bite more often! Also, the only way he could have fractured a tooth was if he was chewing on rocks? Why would he do that? All he has to do is wait for Nana to doze off and he can have whatever is on her plate? Rocks!
Roo refused to use the stairs I got her so that she can get into bed herself. She just looks at me like, "You don't love me anymore?" When I try to get her to try.
Overheard in the hallway as I exited to run an errand, "That is one big lady." "Do you think she is Hagrid's sister?"
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Closure... New Birth
Robin had a beautiful baby girl on Friday night. Nora Simone. What a blessing!
On Monday I went to the "Final" Director's meeting for camp. Final as in final one from this summer. In a couple months we start this whole circus over again getting ready for next summer. Anyway. The meeting.
Actually it was a dinner. The night before I had a really long talk with one of my best friends up at camp. It was a good talk. We had been through a lot this summer, especially the last few days and I was very worried that there might be damage, especially the unrepairable kind. Nope, he was just really busy. He even rode with me the next day to the meeting. It was over an hour either way. We had a lot of time to talk then too.
It is amazing to me what real friendship is. One of the things I find the most fascinating about people is our relationships, how we deal with each other. This was one of those moments. It was epiphanic too as I saw how much I mattered to others. That I matter at all, even.
Also, just to finally let go the horror that was the last Saturday night at camp and the hell that ensued. The mistakes, the panic, the doubt and the self loathing that comes from bad choices, bad luck and bad timing. (Makes it sound like I decided to tight-rope walk across an alligator infested swamp and took a few friends with me and then had to hall them all out of the swamp when the rope caught on fire... Doesn't it? It wasn't actually anything all that bad in the end, I just wish it had gone differently.) When he and I talked about everything and got it all out, I was able to let it all go. I could finally find the humor in the whole mess (and trust me there was a lot there too) and for me the moment I can find the humor, I can find the positive and the negative becomes of negligible effect on me for the most part. Also, getting it worked out on earth also helped me be able to really get it worked out with God and that's the best part.
This week I've started back with my trainer after my 11 week hiatus. The exercise machines are kicking my butt. Yet, I feel good. Monday night, last night and I imagine tonight are some of the best sleep I've had in months. My heart and soul feel lighter and maybe my body too?
Lastly, as a unrelated note, if you have ever read Harrison Bergeron by Kurt Vaughnagut. Robin's sub attempted to equate the story to the Taliban today in my first period. I think I need to find things for him to do as far away from my lessons as possible.
On Monday I went to the "Final" Director's meeting for camp. Final as in final one from this summer. In a couple months we start this whole circus over again getting ready for next summer. Anyway. The meeting.
Actually it was a dinner. The night before I had a really long talk with one of my best friends up at camp. It was a good talk. We had been through a lot this summer, especially the last few days and I was very worried that there might be damage, especially the unrepairable kind. Nope, he was just really busy. He even rode with me the next day to the meeting. It was over an hour either way. We had a lot of time to talk then too.
It is amazing to me what real friendship is. One of the things I find the most fascinating about people is our relationships, how we deal with each other. This was one of those moments. It was epiphanic too as I saw how much I mattered to others. That I matter at all, even.
Also, just to finally let go the horror that was the last Saturday night at camp and the hell that ensued. The mistakes, the panic, the doubt and the self loathing that comes from bad choices, bad luck and bad timing. (Makes it sound like I decided to tight-rope walk across an alligator infested swamp and took a few friends with me and then had to hall them all out of the swamp when the rope caught on fire... Doesn't it? It wasn't actually anything all that bad in the end, I just wish it had gone differently.) When he and I talked about everything and got it all out, I was able to let it all go. I could finally find the humor in the whole mess (and trust me there was a lot there too) and for me the moment I can find the humor, I can find the positive and the negative becomes of negligible effect on me for the most part. Also, getting it worked out on earth also helped me be able to really get it worked out with God and that's the best part.
This week I've started back with my trainer after my 11 week hiatus. The exercise machines are kicking my butt. Yet, I feel good. Monday night, last night and I imagine tonight are some of the best sleep I've had in months. My heart and soul feel lighter and maybe my body too?
Lastly, as a unrelated note, if you have ever read Harrison Bergeron by Kurt Vaughnagut. Robin's sub attempted to equate the story to the Taliban today in my first period. I think I need to find things for him to do as far away from my lessons as possible.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Dumb, Dumb, Dumb, Dumb, DUMB!
Every class has it's own personality. This year's 9th graders are quickly establishing their to us. Last year was the year of the arrogant freshman. They figured they knew everything. This year, well, new problem.
This group will do just about anything that comes into their mind. Another one of my children was suspended to day. He brought alcohol to school yesterday. He and several friends. Someone squealed on them. So today they were searched. No alcohol. However, when cornered they broke down crying and confessed all. Oh my goodness!
Meanwhile another group of students decided that they didn't like their lockers so they took over some other people's (the locks themselves have not been distributed yet) and then got very upset when low and behold their stuff disappeared. They even went to the School Resource Officer, who in turn came to me to find out who owned which lockers. What a mess. We found everything, but what a mess.
Then there is the weirdest one yet. Actually the Dad is a nut case. He has decided that the school is releasing Social Security numbers of students to other parents that the school board favors and then allowing those parents to manipulate other students' schedules to suit their children. No I am not making this up. He won't sign anything we send home either and accused us of bullying his daughter by asking her to take it home to him to sign. Further he has actually filed a restraining order against another family saying that they manipulated his child's schedule. He feels we are an awful school, awful system and we are negatively affecting his daughter (she get's straight A's by the way...).
Dumb has to do with choices, none of these kids are stupid, by the way...
Then of course there is dear Robin, my very pregnant team teacher. Her plug came out today. At first she thought her water broke, but it was just the plug. Then she realized at the end of the school day that she was in fact in labor. I hope the baby comes quick and easy for her.
Oops! Lightning. Better go!
This group will do just about anything that comes into their mind. Another one of my children was suspended to day. He brought alcohol to school yesterday. He and several friends. Someone squealed on them. So today they were searched. No alcohol. However, when cornered they broke down crying and confessed all. Oh my goodness!
Meanwhile another group of students decided that they didn't like their lockers so they took over some other people's (the locks themselves have not been distributed yet) and then got very upset when low and behold their stuff disappeared. They even went to the School Resource Officer, who in turn came to me to find out who owned which lockers. What a mess. We found everything, but what a mess.
Then there is the weirdest one yet. Actually the Dad is a nut case. He has decided that the school is releasing Social Security numbers of students to other parents that the school board favors and then allowing those parents to manipulate other students' schedules to suit their children. No I am not making this up. He won't sign anything we send home either and accused us of bullying his daughter by asking her to take it home to him to sign. Further he has actually filed a restraining order against another family saying that they manipulated his child's schedule. He feels we are an awful school, awful system and we are negatively affecting his daughter (she get's straight A's by the way...).
Dumb has to do with choices, none of these kids are stupid, by the way...
Then of course there is dear Robin, my very pregnant team teacher. Her plug came out today. At first she thought her water broke, but it was just the plug. Then she realized at the end of the school day that she was in fact in labor. I hope the baby comes quick and easy for her.
Oops! Lightning. Better go!
Thursday, August 03, 2006
How do you do that?
So today one of my students wasn't in class because he was suspended. The incident happened on the first day of school. Ten buck says he doesn't last two more weeks.
Aren't I awful. I really like my kids this year. I see some real potential, but I feel kind of negative/cynical for thinking that about this kid. Did I mention he's 17 and this is his 3rd time around the block in 9th grade?
Now, I have to stop this.
Poor Robin, my team teacher. She is now a full week past her due date. No dilation. No efacement. She's actually pretty happy and adamantly does not want to be induced. She keeps coming to work and continues to work at her part time job in a garden store as well. This woman is one of those who would step into the next rice row, squat, give birth and be back at work with the baby strapped to her back. Oh My!
Lastly, I'm starting back with my trainer next week. This summer was supposed to be a real slim down for me, it usually is. Not this time. I didn't work out and I lost no weight (though I didn't gain.) If I really want to get started on my PhD next fall, this is it. I have to get down. So I am putting all kinds of things into place to make that possible. Here's hoping.
By the way. Is anyone else hot?
Aren't I awful. I really like my kids this year. I see some real potential, but I feel kind of negative/cynical for thinking that about this kid. Did I mention he's 17 and this is his 3rd time around the block in 9th grade?
Now, I have to stop this.
Poor Robin, my team teacher. She is now a full week past her due date. No dilation. No efacement. She's actually pretty happy and adamantly does not want to be induced. She keeps coming to work and continues to work at her part time job in a garden store as well. This woman is one of those who would step into the next rice row, squat, give birth and be back at work with the baby strapped to her back. Oh My!
Lastly, I'm starting back with my trainer next week. This summer was supposed to be a real slim down for me, it usually is. Not this time. I didn't work out and I lost no weight (though I didn't gain.) If I really want to get started on my PhD next fall, this is it. I have to get down. So I am putting all kinds of things into place to make that possible. Here's hoping.
By the way. Is anyone else hot?
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Funny Flash or Flash of Funny...
Second day of class for students today. One of my students is already suspended. Oh My. Anyway, as I was watching my students take their first test (yes I give one on the second day, yes I am evil, yes I was told...) (Ok, OK, it ws just a pretest and they knew that...) I was thinking about camp and realized I had forgotten to share a story that happened week two. This one is a plum.
A scoutmaster had severe diabetes (no that is not the funny part) was suffering from low blood sugar. It happens a lot at camp especially if people are not on pump. With all the physical activity, heat, etc, it is easy for chemistry to be out of wack. Another scout leader came to get me and to get (of all things) cookies to give him. We ran to where he was, me frantically calling on the radio for someone in Medlodge to bring me my supply of fruit juice (the best alternative for low blood sugar, if the patient is aware enough to drink.)
Shooting sports heard me (remember my dear friend Drew?). "Can we help?"
"You don't have any juice."
"Can we help you?"
"You don't have any juice at shooting sports!"
Then as the juice arrived Drew comes flying up in his car.
"How can I help?"
"I got juice. Thanks, don't need any more help."
"Fine!"
Poor boy. He was very frustrated and just trying to help. He thought when I said that he had no juice that I was saying his radio wasn't working because the batteries were dead. The scoutmaster was fine in a matter of minutes once I got the juice in him.
OK, maybe it's not the funniest story, but it was the thought that kept me amused this afternoon.
A scoutmaster had severe diabetes (no that is not the funny part) was suffering from low blood sugar. It happens a lot at camp especially if people are not on pump. With all the physical activity, heat, etc, it is easy for chemistry to be out of wack. Another scout leader came to get me and to get (of all things) cookies to give him. We ran to where he was, me frantically calling on the radio for someone in Medlodge to bring me my supply of fruit juice (the best alternative for low blood sugar, if the patient is aware enough to drink.)
Shooting sports heard me (remember my dear friend Drew?). "Can we help?"
"You don't have any juice."
"Can we help you?"
"You don't have any juice at shooting sports!"
Then as the juice arrived Drew comes flying up in his car.
"How can I help?"
"I got juice. Thanks, don't need any more help."
"Fine!"
Poor boy. He was very frustrated and just trying to help. He thought when I said that he had no juice that I was saying his radio wasn't working because the batteries were dead. The scoutmaster was fine in a matter of minutes once I got the juice in him.
OK, maybe it's not the funniest story, but it was the thought that kept me amused this afternoon.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
First Day of School Hodge Podge
So today the children arrived. I swear each year they get younger and younger. Look to be decent classes. Time will tell I imagine.
This year I am very optimistic about what I want to accomplish and I think it can all be done. Health goals, professional goals and personal goals all come into play. The beginning of the school year is a lot like New Year's or a birthday. So much promise, so much possibility.
This year however there is one shadow. I learned some important things this summer about myself, about what I was capable of. Lots of good things, but not everything. As I stood looking out at the faces of freshly scrubbed ninth graders, I found that I wasn't as confidant as to who I was this time. Not anything they would notice or would affect my teaching, but it was still a stray thought in the back of my mind.
Also, as of this writing my poor team teacher has not popped. Her due date was last week, but at this point she was hoping to hold out long enough to meet her students before going on maternity leave. She reached the goal. Now I'm waiting for her water to break in class. That has happened to her before apparently. She thinks it's funnier than the rest of us do.
Lastly, this morning as I came out of my classroom, ready to face the day I overheard some delightful children take a sharp intake of breath as I entered the hall, "That is one big lady!" I turned, smiled and said, "With excellent hearing, no less!" Poor children. They haven't learned to disconnect their mouths from their brains.
So the year begins.
I'm actually excited... More than the past few years. I have a feeling this is going to be a pivotal year for me. I've learned too much so far for it to not be.
This year I am very optimistic about what I want to accomplish and I think it can all be done. Health goals, professional goals and personal goals all come into play. The beginning of the school year is a lot like New Year's or a birthday. So much promise, so much possibility.
This year however there is one shadow. I learned some important things this summer about myself, about what I was capable of. Lots of good things, but not everything. As I stood looking out at the faces of freshly scrubbed ninth graders, I found that I wasn't as confidant as to who I was this time. Not anything they would notice or would affect my teaching, but it was still a stray thought in the back of my mind.
Also, as of this writing my poor team teacher has not popped. Her due date was last week, but at this point she was hoping to hold out long enough to meet her students before going on maternity leave. She reached the goal. Now I'm waiting for her water to break in class. That has happened to her before apparently. She thinks it's funnier than the rest of us do.
Lastly, this morning as I came out of my classroom, ready to face the day I overheard some delightful children take a sharp intake of breath as I entered the hall, "That is one big lady!" I turned, smiled and said, "With excellent hearing, no less!" Poor children. They haven't learned to disconnect their mouths from their brains.
So the year begins.
I'm actually excited... More than the past few years. I have a feeling this is going to be a pivotal year for me. I've learned too much so far for it to not be.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Christmas in July
This blog is not for the easily offended.
At camp we have a tradition. Christmas in July. I prefer it to regular Christmas, frankly. I mean I love what real Christmas is for and what it stands for and all that and I love the season, but with my family politics and issues and Jerry Springer stupidity, I really don't care much for the holiday. Christmas at camp is totally wonderful though. Granted it has none of the really cool reasons, Savior's birth, Good will toward man, and all that, but in terms of true completely altruistic generosity it can't be beat. It is also a great time for pranks, jokes and the teasing that is love and support between staffers at camp. In the past we even had a big roast beef dinner and such, but that has gotten to be too much of a hassle. So now we do it on the second to last Wednesday of camp, have cookies and Nogless Eggnog and do a white elephant gift exchange. In addition lots of staffers exchange little gifts. The rule is cheap or home-made. I get a lot of gifts for people. They are a good method of encouragement to the people who sometimes don't feel encouraged. In addition for the past couple years all senior staff that have to stand duty (stay up at admin overnight to answer phones and back me up) receive, from me, a towel with their name embroidered on it.
The tradition started back four summers ago when I was the office manager. That summer I lived up in admin with the medic and he and I shared our bathroom with four guys who lived in the Ballard Cabin. The Ballard Cabin is a historical landmark. It is a one room cabin and while it has electricity has no pluming. It is too far away from the staff area for the boys that live there (usually older boys... Over 21... Who are kayaking instructors) to use the facilities so the medic shares the facilities up in admin with them. (And in admin, everyone has their own room, I have never had a room-mate at camp... just to be clear) That first year I was terribly smitten (kind of like how Rosie was smitten with Tom Cruise, except I'm not gay and he's normal...) with one of the instructors. He was adorable and sweet and very smart. He was working on his PhD in psychology. He was also about 5'6. But still adorable. Anyway, one day I ended up on the phone with his mom. We chatted a bit and then she explained who she was. And I said, "Oh, I know your son. We share a shower!" Yep, that's exactly what I said. Thankfully she had a sense of humor. The incident got around and so they started to call the medic, myself and the Ballard Boys, "The shower buddies." So that year for X-mas, myself, I embroidered all of our names on towels. I gave each one of the boys their towels with a card that said "Now you will think of me when you are naked." It was a big hit.
The next year when I was the medic several younger boys (17) remembered the incident and gave me towels for X-mas. Not embroidered by them, but pretty orange ones with big turquoise flowers. They also got the matching hand towel and wash cloth. Nana is terribly fond of them. So when several of the boys came over to do yard work for me that fall after that summer and Nana kept calling them the towel boys I explained to them that the only person thinking of them when they were naked was Nana. Anyway.
My second year as the medic we started the Director on Duty system and I wanted to find a way to thank these young men for helping me out and the towel idea just seemed to fit. This time I had them professionally done. Luckily one of our staffers mother's is the one who does the embroidering for our staff shirts and so she did the towels for me, essentially at cost. I gave the towels out a X-mas. I did it again this year as well as they were so well liked and appreciated last year.
I receive gifts too, but more often cards. Homemade X-mas cards that are very sweet though often misspelled and sloppily written. It's the thought that counts after all...
It is also a tradition for me to give the director of the dining hall, a man old enough to be my father (Mark, see previous posts) that I flirt outrageously with as inappropriate a gift as possible. Last year I gave him a lacy red bra and panty set. While I had never actually worn it, it was in my size. All in good fun. This year, during staff week, the kitchen staff ran that same gift up the flag poles during morning formation. Seeing as it was just staff present, I thought it was pretty funny. This year I promised Mark I would be more demure in my gift, so I gave him a white eyelit lace set. Very innocent looking. However I also gave him pictures of me wearing them (over my dark green scrubs) in a Christmas card with a picture of the Virgin Mary on the cover. It was a great catch twenty two. If he didn't look at them he would think I had taken racy photos. If he did I could call him a pervert for looking. The senior (read over 18 and out of high school) staff was in hysterics over it all day. There was one problem however.
I had sent Drew (24 year old shotgun istructor nicknamed, and I am not making this up, Tinkerbell) to pick the pictures up at Walmart. There were only two, developed as 5X7 glossys. Drew said the clerk gave him the dirtiest look when he picked them up (I don't see why I was completely dressed!) and he didn't know why until he got to the car and peeked. What he didn't tell me was that he decided to use this opportunity to help some of the high school boys in cabin 2 kick their porn habit (These boys are mostly 16 and seventeen, starting senior year in high school). He photocopied the pictures onto one sheet of paper and slipped the papers into all the boys' magazines he could find (I'm hoping that was only a couple...). So X-mas was on Wednesday. On Friday one of the boys, one of "my boys" actually, rather sheepishly handed me a folded up piece of paper and said, "Um, I think this is yours." Obviously I was slightly confused. Like I said, I was dressed and so there was nothing to be embarrassed about I just wanted to know how the boys got it, it hadn't really beed intended for the younger boys to see. Eventually I caught up to Drew. He confessed immediately, explaining that he figured that if the boys were surprised by a picture of someone they considered a big sister while they were "using" the magazines maybe it would curb their habit or at least make them think about it a little more.
I thanked Drew for making my prank a Public Service Announcement.
Merry Christmas.
Only in my world.
At camp we have a tradition. Christmas in July. I prefer it to regular Christmas, frankly. I mean I love what real Christmas is for and what it stands for and all that and I love the season, but with my family politics and issues and Jerry Springer stupidity, I really don't care much for the holiday. Christmas at camp is totally wonderful though. Granted it has none of the really cool reasons, Savior's birth, Good will toward man, and all that, but in terms of true completely altruistic generosity it can't be beat. It is also a great time for pranks, jokes and the teasing that is love and support between staffers at camp. In the past we even had a big roast beef dinner and such, but that has gotten to be too much of a hassle. So now we do it on the second to last Wednesday of camp, have cookies and Nogless Eggnog and do a white elephant gift exchange. In addition lots of staffers exchange little gifts. The rule is cheap or home-made. I get a lot of gifts for people. They are a good method of encouragement to the people who sometimes don't feel encouraged. In addition for the past couple years all senior staff that have to stand duty (stay up at admin overnight to answer phones and back me up) receive, from me, a towel with their name embroidered on it.
The tradition started back four summers ago when I was the office manager. That summer I lived up in admin with the medic and he and I shared our bathroom with four guys who lived in the Ballard Cabin. The Ballard Cabin is a historical landmark. It is a one room cabin and while it has electricity has no pluming. It is too far away from the staff area for the boys that live there (usually older boys... Over 21... Who are kayaking instructors) to use the facilities so the medic shares the facilities up in admin with them. (And in admin, everyone has their own room, I have never had a room-mate at camp... just to be clear) That first year I was terribly smitten (kind of like how Rosie was smitten with Tom Cruise, except I'm not gay and he's normal...) with one of the instructors. He was adorable and sweet and very smart. He was working on his PhD in psychology. He was also about 5'6. But still adorable. Anyway, one day I ended up on the phone with his mom. We chatted a bit and then she explained who she was. And I said, "Oh, I know your son. We share a shower!" Yep, that's exactly what I said. Thankfully she had a sense of humor. The incident got around and so they started to call the medic, myself and the Ballard Boys, "The shower buddies." So that year for X-mas, myself, I embroidered all of our names on towels. I gave each one of the boys their towels with a card that said "Now you will think of me when you are naked." It was a big hit.
The next year when I was the medic several younger boys (17) remembered the incident and gave me towels for X-mas. Not embroidered by them, but pretty orange ones with big turquoise flowers. They also got the matching hand towel and wash cloth. Nana is terribly fond of them. So when several of the boys came over to do yard work for me that fall after that summer and Nana kept calling them the towel boys I explained to them that the only person thinking of them when they were naked was Nana. Anyway.
My second year as the medic we started the Director on Duty system and I wanted to find a way to thank these young men for helping me out and the towel idea just seemed to fit. This time I had them professionally done. Luckily one of our staffers mother's is the one who does the embroidering for our staff shirts and so she did the towels for me, essentially at cost. I gave the towels out a X-mas. I did it again this year as well as they were so well liked and appreciated last year.
I receive gifts too, but more often cards. Homemade X-mas cards that are very sweet though often misspelled and sloppily written. It's the thought that counts after all...
It is also a tradition for me to give the director of the dining hall, a man old enough to be my father (Mark, see previous posts) that I flirt outrageously with as inappropriate a gift as possible. Last year I gave him a lacy red bra and panty set. While I had never actually worn it, it was in my size. All in good fun. This year, during staff week, the kitchen staff ran that same gift up the flag poles during morning formation. Seeing as it was just staff present, I thought it was pretty funny. This year I promised Mark I would be more demure in my gift, so I gave him a white eyelit lace set. Very innocent looking. However I also gave him pictures of me wearing them (over my dark green scrubs) in a Christmas card with a picture of the Virgin Mary on the cover. It was a great catch twenty two. If he didn't look at them he would think I had taken racy photos. If he did I could call him a pervert for looking. The senior (read over 18 and out of high school) staff was in hysterics over it all day. There was one problem however.
I had sent Drew (24 year old shotgun istructor nicknamed, and I am not making this up, Tinkerbell) to pick the pictures up at Walmart. There were only two, developed as 5X7 glossys. Drew said the clerk gave him the dirtiest look when he picked them up (I don't see why I was completely dressed!) and he didn't know why until he got to the car and peeked. What he didn't tell me was that he decided to use this opportunity to help some of the high school boys in cabin 2 kick their porn habit (These boys are mostly 16 and seventeen, starting senior year in high school). He photocopied the pictures onto one sheet of paper and slipped the papers into all the boys' magazines he could find (I'm hoping that was only a couple...). So X-mas was on Wednesday. On Friday one of the boys, one of "my boys" actually, rather sheepishly handed me a folded up piece of paper and said, "Um, I think this is yours." Obviously I was slightly confused. Like I said, I was dressed and so there was nothing to be embarrassed about I just wanted to know how the boys got it, it hadn't really beed intended for the younger boys to see. Eventually I caught up to Drew. He confessed immediately, explaining that he figured that if the boys were surprised by a picture of someone they considered a big sister while they were "using" the magazines maybe it would curb their habit or at least make them think about it a little more.
I thanked Drew for making my prank a Public Service Announcement.
Merry Christmas.
Only in my world.
36 hours... The scariest
Fourth of July week was with out a doubt the most difficult and exciting to be the medic at camp. It was a real heart pounder.
First of all Mom was supposed to visit, but she didn't and she waited until the last minute to tell me, so I ended up on the hook for the hotel. Thankfully they were really nice about the whole thing and I got to go use the night I had to pay for on Saturday. They had a big whirlpool bath in the room. Very nice... For all that I had a perfectly good bed not ten miles away. Anyway.
Nana got to come and visit for the fourth. She had a terrific time. Very nice and lots of fun for everyone. One Wednesday we did a special ceremony for MIA/POW and as last year I headed that up. It is a tradition I have seen since I was a child and it meant a lot for me to be able to share it with these boys. Many of the adult leaders thanked me throughout the rest of the week for the gesture.
Then came Thursday morning. It started for me at 2:30 AM.
At camp as one of few females I have to be very conscious of what I wear to bed at night. I keep a robe handy. However, sometimes if I have to "go" in the middle of the night, I'll just creep to the bathroom in my camisol and skivvies if the interior door to my building is shut and there is no one around. Like at 2 in the morning. So I popped my head out the door, saw the door was closed and began my creep. That's when I realized two scoutmasters were sitting in the middle of my med lodge. Oops. So after scooting back to my room like a bat out of hell and changing into complete scrubs I had a thirty minute chat with them and the boy they had brought with them. He was essentially home sick, but insisted he had the flu. So we gave him some Sudafed and sent him to bed. No harm no foul except for my wounded pride.
Then at 9 AM I got the emergency call. Someone had been walking across a mock up of a rope bridge or Monkey Bridge as they call it and had fallen. When I got there I found my program director (one of the highest ups at camp) was the one injured. When attempting to walk the bridge he had been spun upside down, piled into the ground and then three 100lb a piece logs had fallen on him. He regained consciousness, but could not remember what happened and could not retain any information we gave him at that point. He repeatedly asked me what happened even though I kept telling him. We had to "package" him in case of spinal injury and called 911. Then Click and I went with them to an emergency room to hear how he was and to wait for his mother. As it turned out it was only (ONLY!!!!) a moderate concussion and essentially mild sprains in his knee and elbow. The staff did an amazing job of handling the emergency and the camp for the most part was unaware of most of what had happened. I've packaged people before, seen worse injuries, but it was strange that this was someone I knew and I was very scared at the time. That is where training is such a good thing, because you are on auto pilot in terms of getting everything done.
When I got back there was a boy waiting for me. His scout master kind of shoved the kid at me and ran. Poor boy had a tick in a very uncomfortable place. When I attempted to remove it, I lost the head and had to go digging for it. Lord have Mercy! So here I am kneeling on the floor, by the gurney with a boy desperately trying to hold his suit low enough for me to get what I need to get to, but high enough to protect some modesty and I had another staff member holding a flashlight over me so I could see to digs the needle and tweezers into this whole mess. I went to bed beyond exhausted that night.
Then next morning after breakfast a scout master came running into medlodge with the two words to stop any medic's heart. Chain Saw! Some poor scout master bumped one into his upper thigh. As it was he was lucky. It was actually mostly superficial. Only (ONLY!!!) 40 stitches and no muscle damage. But for all that at least for a few minutes my heart stopped again.
Come Saturday night that bubble bath felt really good.
First of all Mom was supposed to visit, but she didn't and she waited until the last minute to tell me, so I ended up on the hook for the hotel. Thankfully they were really nice about the whole thing and I got to go use the night I had to pay for on Saturday. They had a big whirlpool bath in the room. Very nice... For all that I had a perfectly good bed not ten miles away. Anyway.
Nana got to come and visit for the fourth. She had a terrific time. Very nice and lots of fun for everyone. One Wednesday we did a special ceremony for MIA/POW and as last year I headed that up. It is a tradition I have seen since I was a child and it meant a lot for me to be able to share it with these boys. Many of the adult leaders thanked me throughout the rest of the week for the gesture.
Then came Thursday morning. It started for me at 2:30 AM.
At camp as one of few females I have to be very conscious of what I wear to bed at night. I keep a robe handy. However, sometimes if I have to "go" in the middle of the night, I'll just creep to the bathroom in my camisol and skivvies if the interior door to my building is shut and there is no one around. Like at 2 in the morning. So I popped my head out the door, saw the door was closed and began my creep. That's when I realized two scoutmasters were sitting in the middle of my med lodge. Oops. So after scooting back to my room like a bat out of hell and changing into complete scrubs I had a thirty minute chat with them and the boy they had brought with them. He was essentially home sick, but insisted he had the flu. So we gave him some Sudafed and sent him to bed. No harm no foul except for my wounded pride.
Then at 9 AM I got the emergency call. Someone had been walking across a mock up of a rope bridge or Monkey Bridge as they call it and had fallen. When I got there I found my program director (one of the highest ups at camp) was the one injured. When attempting to walk the bridge he had been spun upside down, piled into the ground and then three 100lb a piece logs had fallen on him. He regained consciousness, but could not remember what happened and could not retain any information we gave him at that point. He repeatedly asked me what happened even though I kept telling him. We had to "package" him in case of spinal injury and called 911. Then Click and I went with them to an emergency room to hear how he was and to wait for his mother. As it turned out it was only (ONLY!!!!) a moderate concussion and essentially mild sprains in his knee and elbow. The staff did an amazing job of handling the emergency and the camp for the most part was unaware of most of what had happened. I've packaged people before, seen worse injuries, but it was strange that this was someone I knew and I was very scared at the time. That is where training is such a good thing, because you are on auto pilot in terms of getting everything done.
When I got back there was a boy waiting for me. His scout master kind of shoved the kid at me and ran. Poor boy had a tick in a very uncomfortable place. When I attempted to remove it, I lost the head and had to go digging for it. Lord have Mercy! So here I am kneeling on the floor, by the gurney with a boy desperately trying to hold his suit low enough for me to get what I need to get to, but high enough to protect some modesty and I had another staff member holding a flashlight over me so I could see to digs the needle and tweezers into this whole mess. I went to bed beyond exhausted that night.
Then next morning after breakfast a scout master came running into medlodge with the two words to stop any medic's heart. Chain Saw! Some poor scout master bumped one into his upper thigh. As it was he was lucky. It was actually mostly superficial. Only (ONLY!!!) 40 stitches and no muscle damage. But for all that at least for a few minutes my heart stopped again.
Come Saturday night that bubble bath felt really good.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Sappy Ramblings from people who should be in bed
The thing that is the most important to me at camp is relationships. Several years ago I told a friend of mine that in some ways camp is the purest form of teaching. It is about the connecting to the boys on a level that doesn't seem to happen anywhere else. I imagine some people might find that odd, creepy or misunderstand my meaning. They live narrow lives.
These boys share so much with me. Often they come up to my Medlodge, in the evening when it's quiet or during a free minute between merit badge classes or on Thursday nights off or even Saturday evenings. They come to hang out, get food (I often have home-cooking in the fridge, chili, chicken and dumplings, soup, etc) and often to talk. The conversations start out small and sometimes odd. Sometimes they meander and go nowhere and sometimes great truths and secrets are shared. I've been told things that were never said out loud before, and may never be again. Things parents, teachers, best friends and doctors may not ever hear. Sometimes I just hear it first, as a safe sounding board. In the past four years I've had people discuss past abuse, suicide, sex, true (possibly unrequited) love, sexual orientation, faith in God, hopes and dreams for the future, and often just the confusion that comes in growing up. They tell me about the girlfriends they want, the ones they have and the ones they lost, not to mention the ones they wish they never had. They tell me about smoking and drinking and porn and the things they are angry about, ashamed of and secretly proud of. They tell me about the mistakes that they pray no one ever finds out about. They tell me the things that make their hearts break and their souls sing.
Oddly enough, for as talkative and up front a person as I am, I don't always talk all that much, mostly listen and I keep a lot of secrets. Which is funny because sometimes I never see or hear from some of them again. They only do one summer at camp and they don't write or call or whatever. If I bump into them somewhere it's good to see them, but awkward and strange as well.
Coming back from camp I find that this summer in particular a lot of what I heard weighs heavy on my soul because it seems so many today are bleeding internally. These are the good boys, the role models, the future leaders and they are so confused and so lost. Yet even with ten to fifteen years on them I'm not real sure I know the answers anymore than they do.
This week I went back to being Miss X at my school. Talking mostly to real adults of course, but Miss X. Here I do have the answers and I am "The Teacher" and my job is so much more finite and bounded and in that way I feel more powerful and in control. Yet, I don't feel as connected either. I am also a lot less confused.
It's Saturday night and I'm getting ready for bed, but I miss keeping an ear out for that shuffle of feet outside my medlodge door or the softly whispered "Hey Sandy." Nana goes to bed early and so it's just me and the dog now. There are no burdens for me to share, no stories to hear and no secrets to keep. I miss them.
I miss my boys.
(So to add to the insult of not posting for nearly a month I now am creating injury by being sappy and philosophical and rambling and probably a bit odd, just ignore me. Students return on Tuesday and I imagine I'll be quirky and cynical again. Also I still need to recount the great Monkey Bridge incident, tick digging, Christmas in July, the chain-saw incident... Just for Beata... And the most important lesson I learned all summer.)
These boys share so much with me. Often they come up to my Medlodge, in the evening when it's quiet or during a free minute between merit badge classes or on Thursday nights off or even Saturday evenings. They come to hang out, get food (I often have home-cooking in the fridge, chili, chicken and dumplings, soup, etc) and often to talk. The conversations start out small and sometimes odd. Sometimes they meander and go nowhere and sometimes great truths and secrets are shared. I've been told things that were never said out loud before, and may never be again. Things parents, teachers, best friends and doctors may not ever hear. Sometimes I just hear it first, as a safe sounding board. In the past four years I've had people discuss past abuse, suicide, sex, true (possibly unrequited) love, sexual orientation, faith in God, hopes and dreams for the future, and often just the confusion that comes in growing up. They tell me about the girlfriends they want, the ones they have and the ones they lost, not to mention the ones they wish they never had. They tell me about smoking and drinking and porn and the things they are angry about, ashamed of and secretly proud of. They tell me about the mistakes that they pray no one ever finds out about. They tell me the things that make their hearts break and their souls sing.
Oddly enough, for as talkative and up front a person as I am, I don't always talk all that much, mostly listen and I keep a lot of secrets. Which is funny because sometimes I never see or hear from some of them again. They only do one summer at camp and they don't write or call or whatever. If I bump into them somewhere it's good to see them, but awkward and strange as well.
Coming back from camp I find that this summer in particular a lot of what I heard weighs heavy on my soul because it seems so many today are bleeding internally. These are the good boys, the role models, the future leaders and they are so confused and so lost. Yet even with ten to fifteen years on them I'm not real sure I know the answers anymore than they do.
This week I went back to being Miss X at my school. Talking mostly to real adults of course, but Miss X. Here I do have the answers and I am "The Teacher" and my job is so much more finite and bounded and in that way I feel more powerful and in control. Yet, I don't feel as connected either. I am also a lot less confused.
It's Saturday night and I'm getting ready for bed, but I miss keeping an ear out for that shuffle of feet outside my medlodge door or the softly whispered "Hey Sandy." Nana goes to bed early and so it's just me and the dog now. There are no burdens for me to share, no stories to hear and no secrets to keep. I miss them.
I miss my boys.
(So to add to the insult of not posting for nearly a month I now am creating injury by being sappy and philosophical and rambling and probably a bit odd, just ignore me. Students return on Tuesday and I imagine I'll be quirky and cynical again. Also I still need to recount the great Monkey Bridge incident, tick digging, Christmas in July, the chain-saw incident... Just for Beata... And the most important lesson I learned all summer.)
Communication
There were lots of things I learned this summer. Lots of things I knew, but saw in practice and a couple things I learned about myself. One of the biggest things I learned/saw was how important communication is and how differently men handle issues of leadership and communication in comparison to women.
While at camp there was a lot of communicating going on, just never between the people who really needed to talk. It amazes me how much things can get out of whack because we won't say the things that should be said.
This summer at camp was most likely the smoothest summer ever in terms of camper/scout master satisfaction, professional accomplishment and the like. There were very few traumatic (read interesting) injuries and few genuine crisis at camp. Yet, for all that ease, smoothness, pretty picture, this summer was most likely my least favorite of the four. People didn't talk to each other, they talked about each other and people were not honest with each other when the time came. This is a very foreign concept to me. Granted sometimes I don't say anything, but for the most part it is very hard for me to keep my thoughts to myself on issues I consider important and if someone asks me what I think I tell them. Further I would never say something behind someone's back that I wouldn't be willing to say to their face. Seriously.
This summer, however, I said nothing, just like everyone else. In my case I didn't say anything because I was the medic not the administrator and I really felt it wasn't my place. This created a lot of internal stress for me, though. I think I slept for nearly 18 hours straight when I got home and then another 10 hour shot afterward. Now I am back at work at school with educational professionals and the difference is amazing. We are dealing with a lot more problems, bigger volume and more stressful issues and yet I feel so much more relaxed because here we talk about them, we discuss it and we fix it or at least find a workable solution. What a difference!
Not to sound sexist, though I do think there are definite issues of gender, but I wonder if that is because the teaching field is predominantly female where as the boy scouts are predominantly male (hence the name). This is also funny to me because in the past I have always said I prefer working with males as they tend to be much more straight forward and simple in their relationships. Which is true. In this case that simplicity twisted back on itself and created the most unpleasant work attitudes I've seen in some time.
Sorry to be so critical-analytical. There were some pretty cool stories and I will share them shortly, about chain-saws, ticks, hijinks and such, but before I could even get to those I needed to get this part off my chest.
While at camp there was a lot of communicating going on, just never between the people who really needed to talk. It amazes me how much things can get out of whack because we won't say the things that should be said.
This summer at camp was most likely the smoothest summer ever in terms of camper/scout master satisfaction, professional accomplishment and the like. There were very few traumatic (read interesting) injuries and few genuine crisis at camp. Yet, for all that ease, smoothness, pretty picture, this summer was most likely my least favorite of the four. People didn't talk to each other, they talked about each other and people were not honest with each other when the time came. This is a very foreign concept to me. Granted sometimes I don't say anything, but for the most part it is very hard for me to keep my thoughts to myself on issues I consider important and if someone asks me what I think I tell them. Further I would never say something behind someone's back that I wouldn't be willing to say to their face. Seriously.
This summer, however, I said nothing, just like everyone else. In my case I didn't say anything because I was the medic not the administrator and I really felt it wasn't my place. This created a lot of internal stress for me, though. I think I slept for nearly 18 hours straight when I got home and then another 10 hour shot afterward. Now I am back at work at school with educational professionals and the difference is amazing. We are dealing with a lot more problems, bigger volume and more stressful issues and yet I feel so much more relaxed because here we talk about them, we discuss it and we fix it or at least find a workable solution. What a difference!
Not to sound sexist, though I do think there are definite issues of gender, but I wonder if that is because the teaching field is predominantly female where as the boy scouts are predominantly male (hence the name). This is also funny to me because in the past I have always said I prefer working with males as they tend to be much more straight forward and simple in their relationships. Which is true. In this case that simplicity twisted back on itself and created the most unpleasant work attitudes I've seen in some time.
Sorry to be so critical-analytical. There were some pretty cool stories and I will share them shortly, about chain-saws, ticks, hijinks and such, but before I could even get to those I needed to get this part off my chest.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Recharge
Hey! No I didn't die. Sorry about that. I figured I'd have so much to say while at camp and I did, unfortunately there was nothing left over energy wise to say it with. Also now I can no longer access my blog while at school, so...
But, there are lots of things I am still processing from camp and I totally will share,
so stay tuned...
But, there are lots of things I am still processing from camp and I totally will share,
so stay tuned...
Saturday, July 01, 2006
What is an Emergency?
At camp, the word Emergency is dangerous on the radio, so we don't use it. If it is a medical emergency you are to simply ask for, "The Medic" and all I will ask is where you are. The part the becomes amusing is what people constitute as an emergency. I've been called as "The Medic" for splinters, headaches, and a "boo-boo."
This Thursday, staff night off, I got called as "The Medic" to the waterfall. Children met me as I ran up the hill, "there's blood everywhere! It's broken! You can see bone!" People were screaming and running and waving hands. When I got there another staff member had already gotten there first. He was gloved, holding pressure on gauze on a leg of a child being held by three scout masters and this child was screaming. The staff member moved his hand and I saw a small square of gauze below the one he was using and it had a 1 inch circle of blood on it. I had to count to 10 before I look under it to see the small skinned section. I guessed maybe 5 stitches, (the kid actually got 8). I smiled at the kid and said, "No worries, quick trip to the ER and you'll be home in two hours."
Then the screaming really started.
At least the scout leaders told me later they were sorry such a fuss was made over something relatively minor and they hoped they hadn't ruined too much of my evening.
Another child came into my office screaming in pain on Monday. He wanted to go home. He was in the worst pain of his life and wanted me to send him home. He had had surgery two months earlier and I needed to get his mother on the phone right now, it was an emergency. His mother was 10 hours away in Florida. But she needed to come get him right now. No, he had no pain prescription, he didn't want any pills. He wanted his mother. We called mom. She said she would come. But then the next morning he was fine. However as a precaution we wanted him to go back to using his crutches and stop doing swimming. Child didn't like this. So...
His mom called me at 4:30 AM on Thursday morning to tell me that her child could walk without crutches and do any activities he wanted to. She called this early she said because it was an emergency.
OK.
So, I find myself wondering, how do we determine emergencies?
This Thursday, staff night off, I got called as "The Medic" to the waterfall. Children met me as I ran up the hill, "there's blood everywhere! It's broken! You can see bone!" People were screaming and running and waving hands. When I got there another staff member had already gotten there first. He was gloved, holding pressure on gauze on a leg of a child being held by three scout masters and this child was screaming. The staff member moved his hand and I saw a small square of gauze below the one he was using and it had a 1 inch circle of blood on it. I had to count to 10 before I look under it to see the small skinned section. I guessed maybe 5 stitches, (the kid actually got 8). I smiled at the kid and said, "No worries, quick trip to the ER and you'll be home in two hours."
Then the screaming really started.
At least the scout leaders told me later they were sorry such a fuss was made over something relatively minor and they hoped they hadn't ruined too much of my evening.
Another child came into my office screaming in pain on Monday. He wanted to go home. He was in the worst pain of his life and wanted me to send him home. He had had surgery two months earlier and I needed to get his mother on the phone right now, it was an emergency. His mother was 10 hours away in Florida. But she needed to come get him right now. No, he had no pain prescription, he didn't want any pills. He wanted his mother. We called mom. She said she would come. But then the next morning he was fine. However as a precaution we wanted him to go back to using his crutches and stop doing swimming. Child didn't like this. So...
His mom called me at 4:30 AM on Thursday morning to tell me that her child could walk without crutches and do any activities he wanted to. She called this early she said because it was an emergency.
OK.
So, I find myself wondering, how do we determine emergencies?
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Homesick
Here at camp we have a really problematic disease. It's called HS. Or, Home Sick! As one of the reining homesick experts I've learned several things.
1) Never ask a child if they will die if they can't go home right now.
2) A child left alone will find a way to call home no matter how difficult you think it is.
3) Dinner time is the worst time of the day for a homesick kid.
4) Chocolate and a hug can cure a lot.
5) But not everything.
6) There is a reason they call Benidryll "Mommy's Little Helper..."
My protocol says I can treat watery eyes and a runny nose with an antihistamine. It is amazing how well it works.
1) Never ask a child if they will die if they can't go home right now.
2) A child left alone will find a way to call home no matter how difficult you think it is.
3) Dinner time is the worst time of the day for a homesick kid.
4) Chocolate and a hug can cure a lot.
5) But not everything.
6) There is a reason they call Benidryll "Mommy's Little Helper..."
My protocol says I can treat watery eyes and a runny nose with an antihistamine. It is amazing how well it works.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Consideration
Hi, my name is Sandy and I will be your camp medic for the week. That means I will not sleep, eat or bathe all week so that I can be at your beck and call for every sniffle, sneeze and tummy ache that you would not normally even mention to anyone in a five mile radius of your normal life, except that at camp it has become a huge emergency in your mind. No, of course I don't miss the dinner that you won't let me finish or the sleep that you won't let me have. I just want you to be happy, fulfilled and feeling pampered. After all this is BOY SCOUT CAMP!!! Where we train individuals to be self reliant, respectful and useful members of society. Thank-You so much for allowing me to serve you. No, there is nothing wrong with my eyes, they are always bloodshot and that tick/twitch has been there for years.
As funny as that little speech is, it is becoming incredibly tragic. I imagine the time I have stolen to write it is going to cost me dearly at some point in the near future. I still love this job, but some of these people really should be well, shot. Unfortunately I can't use my needles for that.
Still no psychological emergency yet. I'm starting to live in fear....
As funny as that little speech is, it is becoming incredibly tragic. I imagine the time I have stolen to write it is going to cost me dearly at some point in the near future. I still love this job, but some of these people really should be well, shot. Unfortunately I can't use my needles for that.
Still no psychological emergency yet. I'm starting to live in fear....
Friday, June 16, 2006
Slow week, week two memories and soup
This has been a slow week, as was last week frankly. There were the standard whiny children, over concerned/overbearing scout masters, scrapes, cuts, bloody noses, but over all it was slow. I imagine I'm gonna pay for it in the eventual. Better sleep up now.
In the meantime, all this time on my hands has given me an opportunity for reflection. For the past three years I have always had a physiological emergency on week 2 (the week I'm in right now). It hasn't happened this week (so far, but we are in the home stretch). Makes me wonder. Course I've never been superstitious, so, who really cares right?
Three summers ago a staff member (who was manic depressive) had a meltdown in the staff lodge while a camper was having a seizure and massively altered mental status. The following Thursday a huge troop got lost on the mountain during staff night off and the formerly mentally unstable staff member was allowed to help search (no I don't know what they were thinking, no one asked me...) and managed to "sprain" both ankles on the way down. I managed to fall out of the golf cart, and another staffer was also cut up, but the two of us, bleeding everywhere, tended to this young man's wounds. Then it was decided he should stay in medlodge with me over night. The idea of him in the same building with me and having access to sharps was hair-raising to say the least.
Two summers ago, a deaf troop was here (they come every year this time, actually) and one of the boys suffered what looked like to me anyway like a psychotic break. He bit, scratched spit and screamed his way up to my medlodge, carried by his father and scout master. Unfortunately an idiot was there ahead of me (see earlier post about volunteer EMT-B from Miami Suburb) and his solution was to duct tape this 11 year old child into a stretcher. Dear God in Heaven. Yes, it went down hill from there. When the paramedics showed up, they cut him out, and he decked the paramedic so they had to tie him back up.
Last summer a staffer with Ashbergers (a mild autism) got off his meds and had a little episode where we were chasing him through the woods during a staff meeting with our council executive who made the mistake of asking what the staff thought about the massive overbooking that occurred that week. Much to his surprise we answered him directly, specifically and accurately. Don't ask a question if you don't want to hear the answer. Anyway, these two massive shake downs were happening simultaneously. When I called mom and said, "come get your son, now!" she said, "But it's a two hour drive and it's eleven o'clock" so I answered, "then I guess you better start driving before it gets any later..."
We have other psychological emergencies, a staffer overdosed on Xanex, a camper threatened to light himself on fire with a bug coil and lighter fluid (that one was not nearly as bad as it sounds and actually more an issue with a stupid and insensitive scout master...) and several campers and staffers found out a loved one died. But these were not during week two.
This week on staff night off I cooked my orange soup. The name has nothing to do with the flavor, it's the color. Here's the recipe, it's the bomb!
1 Vidalia Onion chopped and sauted in
1 stick of butter then add
16 oz ginger ale then add
1 can coconut cream and
1 large box good vegetable stock stir in
1 bag carrot slices and
1 bag sweet potato fries cut into bit sized pieces and let simmer then add
2 large boxes butternut squash soup and
1 large box fire roasted carrot soup.
Simmer another 45 minutes.
Serve with sour cream and fresh bacon pieces.
(Actually I cook two rashers chopped up and add a handful to each soup bowl, but to each his own)
(Also a good sprinkling of chili powder gives the soup a nice kick)
Three weeks down, five to go!
In the meantime, all this time on my hands has given me an opportunity for reflection. For the past three years I have always had a physiological emergency on week 2 (the week I'm in right now). It hasn't happened this week (so far, but we are in the home stretch). Makes me wonder. Course I've never been superstitious, so, who really cares right?
Three summers ago a staff member (who was manic depressive) had a meltdown in the staff lodge while a camper was having a seizure and massively altered mental status. The following Thursday a huge troop got lost on the mountain during staff night off and the formerly mentally unstable staff member was allowed to help search (no I don't know what they were thinking, no one asked me...) and managed to "sprain" both ankles on the way down. I managed to fall out of the golf cart, and another staffer was also cut up, but the two of us, bleeding everywhere, tended to this young man's wounds. Then it was decided he should stay in medlodge with me over night. The idea of him in the same building with me and having access to sharps was hair-raising to say the least.
Two summers ago, a deaf troop was here (they come every year this time, actually) and one of the boys suffered what looked like to me anyway like a psychotic break. He bit, scratched spit and screamed his way up to my medlodge, carried by his father and scout master. Unfortunately an idiot was there ahead of me (see earlier post about volunteer EMT-B from Miami Suburb) and his solution was to duct tape this 11 year old child into a stretcher. Dear God in Heaven. Yes, it went down hill from there. When the paramedics showed up, they cut him out, and he decked the paramedic so they had to tie him back up.
Last summer a staffer with Ashbergers (a mild autism) got off his meds and had a little episode where we were chasing him through the woods during a staff meeting with our council executive who made the mistake of asking what the staff thought about the massive overbooking that occurred that week. Much to his surprise we answered him directly, specifically and accurately. Don't ask a question if you don't want to hear the answer. Anyway, these two massive shake downs were happening simultaneously. When I called mom and said, "come get your son, now!" she said, "But it's a two hour drive and it's eleven o'clock" so I answered, "then I guess you better start driving before it gets any later..."
We have other psychological emergencies, a staffer overdosed on Xanex, a camper threatened to light himself on fire with a bug coil and lighter fluid (that one was not nearly as bad as it sounds and actually more an issue with a stupid and insensitive scout master...) and several campers and staffers found out a loved one died. But these were not during week two.
This week on staff night off I cooked my orange soup. The name has nothing to do with the flavor, it's the color. Here's the recipe, it's the bomb!
1 Vidalia Onion chopped and sauted in
1 stick of butter then add
16 oz ginger ale then add
1 can coconut cream and
1 large box good vegetable stock stir in
1 bag carrot slices and
1 bag sweet potato fries cut into bit sized pieces and let simmer then add
2 large boxes butternut squash soup and
1 large box fire roasted carrot soup.
Simmer another 45 minutes.
Serve with sour cream and fresh bacon pieces.
(Actually I cook two rashers chopped up and add a handful to each soup bowl, but to each his own)
(Also a good sprinkling of chili powder gives the soup a nice kick)
Three weeks down, five to go!
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Ouch!
These boys amaze me. Every day I see injuries that would drop grown men to their knees, and these boys are so brave. Granted other times I see tears over a minor scrape or bug-bite, (I won't mention the child that screamed bloody murder in my clinic for three solid hours about a small bruise on his foot) but I try not to dwell on those moments.
Often these boys are so stalwart and strong. Last week a boy had a migraine so bad we had to take him to the hospital. He couldn't even walk. I called for several of the adults in camp to help me carry him out. Five 15 year old boys stepped forward and said, "He is a member of our troop, tell us how, and we will carry him." It was all I could do not to cry as they carried the boy nearly a quarter of a mile to the closest vehicle. Several of those boys are now on staff this week. We are proud to have them.
Yesterday a young man broke his clavicle. This can be a very painful injury. He comforted his mother on the phone as she was scared. He was released from the hospital this morning and is very disappointed that he cannot come back to camp and complete his merit badges.
Some boys break bones and yet they stay, as much as 20 stitches and they stay, smiling, participating proud to be scouts.
Last night a mother came to me in tears because her son had a serious case of HS (Home Sick) and she wanted to take him home. I was trying to talk her down when a 17 year old staff member (Gusty, I mentioned him before) stepped in, and explained to the mom how this was an important thing for her son to go through and that he was safe here. His words (identical to the ones I often use in these cases) reached the part of her heart that I could not. Then he walked her out to her car and got her on her way. Then he walked up to the campsite of the young man and talked him though a rough night. That little boy is smiling today because of Gusty's honor.
Sometimes as a teacher I get frustrated, depressed even from the excuses, name-calling and blame passing I see with students, parents and even administrations. Then I come here.
Often these boys are so stalwart and strong. Last week a boy had a migraine so bad we had to take him to the hospital. He couldn't even walk. I called for several of the adults in camp to help me carry him out. Five 15 year old boys stepped forward and said, "He is a member of our troop, tell us how, and we will carry him." It was all I could do not to cry as they carried the boy nearly a quarter of a mile to the closest vehicle. Several of those boys are now on staff this week. We are proud to have them.
Yesterday a young man broke his clavicle. This can be a very painful injury. He comforted his mother on the phone as she was scared. He was released from the hospital this morning and is very disappointed that he cannot come back to camp and complete his merit badges.
Some boys break bones and yet they stay, as much as 20 stitches and they stay, smiling, participating proud to be scouts.
Last night a mother came to me in tears because her son had a serious case of HS (Home Sick) and she wanted to take him home. I was trying to talk her down when a 17 year old staff member (Gusty, I mentioned him before) stepped in, and explained to the mom how this was an important thing for her son to go through and that he was safe here. His words (identical to the ones I often use in these cases) reached the part of her heart that I could not. Then he walked her out to her car and got her on her way. Then he walked up to the campsite of the young man and talked him though a rough night. That little boy is smiling today because of Gusty's honor.
Sometimes as a teacher I get frustrated, depressed even from the excuses, name-calling and blame passing I see with students, parents and even administrations. Then I come here.
Monday, June 12, 2006
(Some of ) The boys of summer (camp)
At the specific and excited request of a dear friend of mine I am going to bore you with a description/explanation of some of my boys. These are not anywhere near complete pictures and are as much based on my perceptions and observations than concrete evidence, but are accurate none the less.
Click. This dear lad is 19, 20 in less than a month. One of my favorites, I have worked with him for three of my four years. He is very old for his age, but also very joyful and very, very smart. When I met him he was starting his senior year in high school. Taking a full AP load as well as dance and drama he achieved over a 3.5. He is now studying bio-engineering at one of the best science colleges in the south (if not the nation). This is the first summer he hasn't had a girl friend, in the past he was always completely devoted to the one he was with until she showed some substantial moral flaw and then he quickly distances them. Drinking in excess seems to be his major pet peeve in women and also inability to be themselves. This summer he is a commissioner at camp. Sort of the second in command (or in this case co-second as he has a counterpart I'll introduce in a minute). There are few I trust like Click. He was the one who truly made me feel camp was home. One time during an awful storm when we were taking all the campers to the dining hall, I got in last. He met me at the door and hugged me so hard I squeaked. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Nothing now that you are here and I know you are safe." He answered then he simply walked away off to do other things. No big deal. It was a golden moment for me as I now knew I mattered at camp. He is also a real joy to watch up here. He is great with the kids, fair with the staff and a very hard worker. Sometimes to his detriment, but in the end he works it out.
Windy. The is Click's partner at camp so to speak. Wiry and dark (Click's opposite) he seems very quiet but is very observant. He has a much taller, much deeper voiced brother we call Gusty (both of them are using nicknames by the way) and he clearly adores him. I think that is really nice to see at camp. Brothers, both Eagle Scouts, I might add, who love working together. Windy can be very sharp too, often when you least expect it. I expect he will go far here at camp.
Mike and Jason. These are another set of Eagle brothers. One runs the kitchen the other the nature lodge. They are French Irish with thick curly hair and light eyes. Most of the girls their age swoon over their curls and deep rumbly voices. They are both very strong Catholics and while they have very much college boy humors are very respectful of women in a way that warms my heart and gives me hope for the future. They are some of the only staffers that have seen me cry, and I trust them with that. They also are always there when someone is needed in emergencies. Totally dependable.
Poje. Here is a work in progress, but someone I think I will be proud to have watched grow up. Only 16 he has a lot of responsibility. He runs rapids on kayaks with 10 scouts each week. Our youngest Kayak instructor to date. He is really trying to figure out what he believes and why. He often comes up later in the evening when it is quiet at medlodge, just to talk. Religion, girls, families, politics, future all of it. While many of my boys come talk to me about these things, I'm enjoying him the most this year as he is youngest and still testing his own beliefs. Last year on staff night off he forgot his parents were coming up to visit and left for the night. So they and I had a nice talk in my office for about an hour. Then next week they sent me cookies. What great people. He of course was mortified. I hear most of the childhood stories on my boys as their mothers often call to talk to me through out the summer. His mom is no different and she too sees the potential in her son and is excited to see who he will be
As a side note, that is probably the thing I enjoy most about camp. These staff boys and the relationships I have with them. I am too old to be a sexual threat/issue to them and too young to be a parent (the enemy). They often confide in me things no one else knows (or may ever know) and I am honored to have their trust. They give me hope for the future and they teach me so much about myself even and how we become the people that we are.
Danny and Eddie are best friends and there are no two more exuberant boys on staff. Often viewed as the future of camp these two bounce into my clinic each day to say good morning and bounce through it frequently to check on what's going on. If I come across them outside of camp they are always quick to come over, hug me and chatter on about their lives. This is odd. Most boys (and I understand and am okay with that) avoid me and each other outside of camp unless it is to talk about camp. Not so Danny and Eddie. They are all weather friends of the true kind.
Then of course there is Mark. The dining hall director who is old enough to be my father. He is such an amazing friend. We are close all year round. However we will never date or marry, much to Nana's disappointment.
These are just a few of those I think of when I speak of "my boys" They are among the most special people I have ever met. I look forward to watching the world meet them.
The world may not know what hit it.
Click. This dear lad is 19, 20 in less than a month. One of my favorites, I have worked with him for three of my four years. He is very old for his age, but also very joyful and very, very smart. When I met him he was starting his senior year in high school. Taking a full AP load as well as dance and drama he achieved over a 3.5. He is now studying bio-engineering at one of the best science colleges in the south (if not the nation). This is the first summer he hasn't had a girl friend, in the past he was always completely devoted to the one he was with until she showed some substantial moral flaw and then he quickly distances them. Drinking in excess seems to be his major pet peeve in women and also inability to be themselves. This summer he is a commissioner at camp. Sort of the second in command (or in this case co-second as he has a counterpart I'll introduce in a minute). There are few I trust like Click. He was the one who truly made me feel camp was home. One time during an awful storm when we were taking all the campers to the dining hall, I got in last. He met me at the door and hugged me so hard I squeaked. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Nothing now that you are here and I know you are safe." He answered then he simply walked away off to do other things. No big deal. It was a golden moment for me as I now knew I mattered at camp. He is also a real joy to watch up here. He is great with the kids, fair with the staff and a very hard worker. Sometimes to his detriment, but in the end he works it out.
Windy. The is Click's partner at camp so to speak. Wiry and dark (Click's opposite) he seems very quiet but is very observant. He has a much taller, much deeper voiced brother we call Gusty (both of them are using nicknames by the way) and he clearly adores him. I think that is really nice to see at camp. Brothers, both Eagle Scouts, I might add, who love working together. Windy can be very sharp too, often when you least expect it. I expect he will go far here at camp.
Mike and Jason. These are another set of Eagle brothers. One runs the kitchen the other the nature lodge. They are French Irish with thick curly hair and light eyes. Most of the girls their age swoon over their curls and deep rumbly voices. They are both very strong Catholics and while they have very much college boy humors are very respectful of women in a way that warms my heart and gives me hope for the future. They are some of the only staffers that have seen me cry, and I trust them with that. They also are always there when someone is needed in emergencies. Totally dependable.
Poje. Here is a work in progress, but someone I think I will be proud to have watched grow up. Only 16 he has a lot of responsibility. He runs rapids on kayaks with 10 scouts each week. Our youngest Kayak instructor to date. He is really trying to figure out what he believes and why. He often comes up later in the evening when it is quiet at medlodge, just to talk. Religion, girls, families, politics, future all of it. While many of my boys come talk to me about these things, I'm enjoying him the most this year as he is youngest and still testing his own beliefs. Last year on staff night off he forgot his parents were coming up to visit and left for the night. So they and I had a nice talk in my office for about an hour. Then next week they sent me cookies. What great people. He of course was mortified. I hear most of the childhood stories on my boys as their mothers often call to talk to me through out the summer. His mom is no different and she too sees the potential in her son and is excited to see who he will be
As a side note, that is probably the thing I enjoy most about camp. These staff boys and the relationships I have with them. I am too old to be a sexual threat/issue to them and too young to be a parent (the enemy). They often confide in me things no one else knows (or may ever know) and I am honored to have their trust. They give me hope for the future and they teach me so much about myself even and how we become the people that we are.
Danny and Eddie are best friends and there are no two more exuberant boys on staff. Often viewed as the future of camp these two bounce into my clinic each day to say good morning and bounce through it frequently to check on what's going on. If I come across them outside of camp they are always quick to come over, hug me and chatter on about their lives. This is odd. Most boys (and I understand and am okay with that) avoid me and each other outside of camp unless it is to talk about camp. Not so Danny and Eddie. They are all weather friends of the true kind.
Then of course there is Mark. The dining hall director who is old enough to be my father. He is such an amazing friend. We are close all year round. However we will never date or marry, much to Nana's disappointment.
These are just a few of those I think of when I speak of "my boys" They are among the most special people I have ever met. I look forward to watching the world meet them.
The world may not know what hit it.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
The Grind
Two weeks (nearly) down and six more to go.
Today we had our inspection for national standards. Big Deal! Mostly it's just a lot of bluffing.
Meanwhile children are doing not so bright things with knives.
Oh my!
Today. This poor boy attempted to shave the top of his finger tip off. He now has 8 stitches in that hand. The hard part however was getting him to hold still long enough for me to get it to stop bleeding. He kept moving every time I tried to apply pressure. Blood was spraying everywhere. For a 5'2 kid he was pretty strong. OK now, but rough fighting though.
Also scout masters. Dear God in heaven. Some of them are so cool. Really out to help, but some are just interested in trying to look cool to their scouts or more importantly trying to be, while at camp, the BMOC that they think of themselves as. It really is funny to watch them throw their weight around like they are Trump, Gates or Arnie. Funny, provided you aren't the one they are throwing their weight at.
As a medic, lots of scout masters want to help me, live the whole hero thing. They tend to exaggerate credentials and embellish abilities and experiences. One time a scoutmaster told me he was a paramedic in Miami. He was a actually a volunteer fireman, first responder to a suburb of Boca Raton... That was a long week.
The things people are thankful for. One poor boy on staff has a horrific boil on his, well, his butt. His mother called me and asked me if I would look at it and tell her what I thought. This was not something I wanted to do. But I did it. It looked terrible and painful and plus, looking at other peoples bottoms, especially minors, is not my first choice of a Monday night activity. It had to be worse for this kid than me... He hugged me and thanked me before he went home to see a dermatologist this morning.
It is also funny to me what becomes important up here. Getting to shower in private becomes an undiscovered joy. Knowing that if you leave something in the fridge it will still be there... Being able to find your radio with your stickers on it...
I still love this job...
Today we had our inspection for national standards. Big Deal! Mostly it's just a lot of bluffing.
Meanwhile children are doing not so bright things with knives.
Oh my!
Today. This poor boy attempted to shave the top of his finger tip off. He now has 8 stitches in that hand. The hard part however was getting him to hold still long enough for me to get it to stop bleeding. He kept moving every time I tried to apply pressure. Blood was spraying everywhere. For a 5'2 kid he was pretty strong. OK now, but rough fighting though.
Also scout masters. Dear God in heaven. Some of them are so cool. Really out to help, but some are just interested in trying to look cool to their scouts or more importantly trying to be, while at camp, the BMOC that they think of themselves as. It really is funny to watch them throw their weight around like they are Trump, Gates or Arnie. Funny, provided you aren't the one they are throwing their weight at.
As a medic, lots of scout masters want to help me, live the whole hero thing. They tend to exaggerate credentials and embellish abilities and experiences. One time a scoutmaster told me he was a paramedic in Miami. He was a actually a volunteer fireman, first responder to a suburb of Boca Raton... That was a long week.
The things people are thankful for. One poor boy on staff has a horrific boil on his, well, his butt. His mother called me and asked me if I would look at it and tell her what I thought. This was not something I wanted to do. But I did it. It looked terrible and painful and plus, looking at other peoples bottoms, especially minors, is not my first choice of a Monday night activity. It had to be worse for this kid than me... He hugged me and thanked me before he went home to see a dermatologist this morning.
It is also funny to me what becomes important up here. Getting to shower in private becomes an undiscovered joy. Knowing that if you leave something in the fridge it will still be there... Being able to find your radio with your stickers on it...
I still love this job...
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Busy, Crazy, Drama, Relief...
I'm down from camp for the afternoon. I go back in a couple hours. Such is life for the next seven weeks. This year camp was supposed to get DSL. However, as of now we got nuttin! So, I'm not sure when I can post again. I'll do my best.
This staff week (the week of training before camp starts) went well, only one very minor injury (3 stitches) that didn't effect staff at all... Well except the kid with stitches, but he really isn't all that upset about it... No big. Lots of work to do, not all of it done yet and national inspection is Thursday, but we'll get there.
Trying to get the bedding arrangements worked out has been a real chore. Some of the "boys" (they are actually over 18) are trying to figure out a loophole that would allow them to stay up in my building, but thankfully, this week we stayed one step ahead of them. If we can elude them two more days, which we will, they can't get in.
The drama is also about rooming. Girls are the biggest pain in the neck at camp. Girls in the sense that they are under 21, several under 18, and all think they rule the place. Actually, that's not true. Only two think they rule the place. The one over 18 doesn't want to work, wants all the perks and none of the responsibilities and feels she has the right to dictate how the other girls in her cabin live, behave, work. The other girl, under 18 is a bit more of a follower, so she could be salvaged if the big mouth was gone. Worse is when we confront them, oh, the water works. Girls crying is very upsetting to boys 23 and under. Even when they know the girls are trying to be manipulative, it still tears them up. The leadership has stood strong so far this week, but it wears on them and you can tell.
Already we have had some real bright spots. These boys work so hard and show such joy in simple things. We went to see a drive in movie last night as the end of staff week reward, Over the Hedge and Mission Impossible. I went home after over the hedge. What a delight! So funny.
The kitchen staff has convinced the administration that they will not under any circumstances allow any activities in the dining hall other than meals (which is not true, but I'm proud of the way these kids keep straight faces when the program director asks them) and are secretly planning a big party for the staff later this summer.
The room for the Director on Duty has been decorated in all Superman sheets, blankets and posters in honor of our Super Hero radio call signs. I am Rouge, by the way. I can suck the life right out of you with just a touch... The camp director is Professor X. There is also Storm, The Thing, Kal-El, The Tick, Underdog, The Hulk, Gambit, Wolverine, Human Torch, Mr. Fantastic, Iceman, The Punnisher and Mighty Mouse.
As of right now 50 people were certified in CPR and First Aid according to the new American Heart Association standards that were released this year. I found great satisfaction in being able to tell people that is they fell asleep I would make them leave (and that being true!). Better yet was watching the kids police each other on that kind of issue. Warms a teachers heart and all that...
So, week one starts Sunday, with campers arriving on Sunday at 1:00 PM. We are supposed to get internet on Wednesday, otherwise I'll have to wait till next Saturday.
This staff week (the week of training before camp starts) went well, only one very minor injury (3 stitches) that didn't effect staff at all... Well except the kid with stitches, but he really isn't all that upset about it... No big. Lots of work to do, not all of it done yet and national inspection is Thursday, but we'll get there.
Trying to get the bedding arrangements worked out has been a real chore. Some of the "boys" (they are actually over 18) are trying to figure out a loophole that would allow them to stay up in my building, but thankfully, this week we stayed one step ahead of them. If we can elude them two more days, which we will, they can't get in.
The drama is also about rooming. Girls are the biggest pain in the neck at camp. Girls in the sense that they are under 21, several under 18, and all think they rule the place. Actually, that's not true. Only two think they rule the place. The one over 18 doesn't want to work, wants all the perks and none of the responsibilities and feels she has the right to dictate how the other girls in her cabin live, behave, work. The other girl, under 18 is a bit more of a follower, so she could be salvaged if the big mouth was gone. Worse is when we confront them, oh, the water works. Girls crying is very upsetting to boys 23 and under. Even when they know the girls are trying to be manipulative, it still tears them up. The leadership has stood strong so far this week, but it wears on them and you can tell.
Already we have had some real bright spots. These boys work so hard and show such joy in simple things. We went to see a drive in movie last night as the end of staff week reward, Over the Hedge and Mission Impossible. I went home after over the hedge. What a delight! So funny.
The kitchen staff has convinced the administration that they will not under any circumstances allow any activities in the dining hall other than meals (which is not true, but I'm proud of the way these kids keep straight faces when the program director asks them) and are secretly planning a big party for the staff later this summer.
The room for the Director on Duty has been decorated in all Superman sheets, blankets and posters in honor of our Super Hero radio call signs. I am Rouge, by the way. I can suck the life right out of you with just a touch... The camp director is Professor X. There is also Storm, The Thing, Kal-El, The Tick, Underdog, The Hulk, Gambit, Wolverine, Human Torch, Mr. Fantastic, Iceman, The Punnisher and Mighty Mouse.
As of right now 50 people were certified in CPR and First Aid according to the new American Heart Association standards that were released this year. I found great satisfaction in being able to tell people that is they fell asleep I would make them leave (and that being true!). Better yet was watching the kids police each other on that kind of issue. Warms a teachers heart and all that...
So, week one starts Sunday, with campers arriving on Sunday at 1:00 PM. We are supposed to get internet on Wednesday, otherwise I'll have to wait till next Saturday.
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