jerjonji's Xanga

Of South Street and B-Boys...

Mon, 06 Oct 2008 17:02:24 GMT

If you lived in South Jersey, the only place to be on Saturday night in the summer during the early 80's was South Street in Philly. Long before they cleaned it up and made it tourist/family friendly, it had an energy all its own. In between the stores were the bars- different, on the edge, and full of live musicians. We usually had the kid with us and couldn't bop in and out of them, but that didn't stop us from listening outside, and once in a while, the kid and I would wait on the curb while Mozzis ran in to check out the band.

The street performers added to the chaotic zest as they worked for a few bucks. There were the favorites that always drew a crowd- the uncle and nephew juggling team that juggled fire and rarely dropped a torch, the Jimi Hendricks marionette who played the guitar just like Jimi at Woodstock, the man who could play classical music on wine glasses, the woman laid on a gurney and played jazz piano on her toy piano with her tongue, the Living Statue of Liberty who never blinked unless it was time for a break, and the group of mimes who were for eternity trapped inside an invisible box.

We always stopped at the tiny ice cream store next to the obscure toy store for smashed ice cream, long before McDonald's discovered McFlurry's. We ate it slowly, not wanting to go back to our hot tiny apartment too soon, but the night was winding down. Most of the street performers had earned their living and were heading towards their favorite bar to unwind a bit. The kid's feet dragged and ice cream poured out of his cup in a trail behind him.

Walking towards the car, there was always one last stop: the side street/alley that had ghetto blasters booming Michael Jackson songs as the dancers twirled on cardboard mats thrown down to give a bit of protection from the cement when they fell. Dressed in red leather jackets with plaited hair, the break dancers did an assortment of awe-inspiring power moves that made our four year forget his exhaustion and jump from pure joy. He wanted the Thriller record, the Michael Jackson red leather jacket he found at the Italian Market, and he wanted to move like a break dancer- to walk on his hands, turn summersaults, flip backwards, and twist in midair. He practiced all the way to the car and then slept soundly as we drove over the Ben Franklin bridge, past the whores on the Jersey side working the night, and had to be carried to his bed.

And then... break dancing became a fad that melted away like the ice cream cones dropped on South Street on a muggy summer evening.

The next time I heard about B-Boys was when I was listening to Korean hip hop (Se7en and Taebin for example) and came across incredible breakdancers- world renown, ultra talented, B Boys who were better than the dancers on South Street nearly a lifetime ago. While the South Korean B Boys learned break dancing from the states, they have claimed it for their own. Polished, taken seriously, an avocation, the Korean B Boys remain some of the very best dancers in the world.

So I was slightly amused Saturday afternoon at the B Boy Battle at a hip hop store at the mall. Unpolished amateurs, moving through classic B Boy moves without the grace or talent of the crews I love, the young dancers competed fearlessly. Should be watching youtube, I thought to myself, Poppin John will break down the moves for them into steps they can understand and they'll get better quickly. And then, I laughed at myself, and we moved out of the crowded store. Good for the middle of nowhere, I thought.

But at least there are six young Albuquerque-ans who are enjoying its revival! So if you're walking in the mall, and you see a crowd gathering- go check it out. If you're lucky, it might be Korean B Boy crews, Gambler or Drifters, but even if it's just the local homeboys doing their toprocking, downrocking, power rocking, or freezes, it'll make you want to move too.

Gamblers at their best- live

Fear*

Sun, 05 Oct 2008 03:19:17 GMT

Fear is different colors for different people. Mine is puke green.

It came from the horrid puke green troll who tormented my nightmares. He had long scaly arms with dirt encrusted fingernails and short tuffs of steel wool poked out from behind his ears. He fought dirty, determined to win at any cost. He delighted in dancing in to my peaceful dreams. A great thief who took pleasure in destroying dreams and injecting doubt deep into my psyche. He robbed me of self-confidence and left me alone with my insecurities and anxieties. Nothing made him happier than seeing me cave in again to the doubt gremlins he snuck into my life.

“Incompetent Loser, Stupid Dreamer, Useless ambition.” He chanted those deadly words in my ear while I slept restlessly, until I began to believe each phrase was truth.

I dreaded sleep and walked the night, restless, tired, and listened for the sounds of his whispers to start again.

He obliged. “You’ll never make anything of yourself. Your dreams are silly. You have no talent. You will only make a mess of things. Why do you keep working at it? You’re a fool. You dare to dream? You? Don’t make me laugh.”

Learning the craft word by word, taking it seriously when no one else does, I drown out the chorus of doubt with my own songs. Fear of failure is puke green. Fear of bugs, of monsters, of getting lost, of demons and ghosts, of being alone all pale when placed against the puke green troll fear. My lifetime companion is running scared now that I am finally winning a few small skirmishes.

* for Featured_GrownUps

Ps. Thanks for all your warm thoughts and prayers over the loss of our beloved Wulfe.

We appreciate your love and kindness greatly!

It doesn't make it easier when we feel his absence, but it's nice to know that you understand!

Go Down Death

Fri, 03 Oct 2008 16:17:21 GMT

And God sat back on his throne,
And he commanded that tall, bright angel standing at his right hand:
Call me Death!
And that tall, bright angel cried in a voice
That broke like a clap of thunder:
Call Death!--Call Death!
And the echo sounded down the streets of heaven
Till it reached away back to that shadowy place,
Where Death waits with his pale, white horses.

And Death heard the summons,
And he leaped on his fastest horse,
Pale as a sheet in the moonlight.
Up the golden street Death galloped,
And the hooves of his horses struck fire from the gold,
But they didn't make no sound.
Up Death rode to the Great White Throne,
And waited for God's command.

And God said: Go down, Death, go down,

And Death didn't say a word,
But he loosed the reins on his pale, white horse,
And he clamped the spurs to his bloodless sides,
And out and down he rode,
Through heaven's pearly gates,
Past suns and moons and stars;
on Death rode,
Leaving the lightning's flash behind;
Straight down he came.

And death began to ride again--
Up beyond the evening star,
Into the glittering light of glory,
On to the Great White Throne.

bits of Go Down Death

by James Weldon Johnson

In memory of a friend and companion who left us today

after giving us nearly his whole life

in love and dedication

There's no easy way to go...

There's no knowing when the time is right...

There's no way to say good-bye...

Just...

Thanks for the love, Wulfe...

We'll miss you more than we can imagine right now...

Mozzis was the one who held you tight

while I, the coward,

cried silently at home

Beach Day...

Thu, 02 Oct 2008 02:52:24 GMT

In the middle of a desert, I'm craving the sounds of the waves of the ocean slamming against the reef barriers, the smell of rotting fish, and the screaming sea gulls.

I need a day at the beach.

It doesn't even have to be a sunny, hot day.

It can be an overcast day where the sky melds into the horizon and the sea foam is brown.

I need to walk along the ocean's edge, barefooted and skipping a little when I step on a broken shell half buried in the wet sand.

I miss darting out of the incoming surf as the tide brings the icy ocean water to land before retreating to the depths again and racing the tiny beach bums of the bird family back to safety.

The call is deep inside me as I walk across the sandy sidewalk, the heat of the day bringing the taste of dirt instead of the salty ocean spray to the mouth.

I'm dehydrated, I say, meaning I need more than a fresh bottle of water.

Our Memorial

Sun, 28 Sep 2008 12:56:45 GMT

There is this xanga made to remember the Xangans that have left us forever because they've moved on to heaven. Called Our Memorial, it gives a link to the missing xangan's blog.

I asked them to add Papa Norm to the list, but if you know of anyone else, you should let them know.

It's a nice way of not forgetting those of us called home. Terry's there. Who else should be there?

Swish-Swish...

Fri, 26 Sep 2008 21:23:26 GMT

It's Shabu-shabu time tonight as we take two other couples out for a dining experience you can only get at one restaurant in all of ABQ. When I got off the plane last Saturday, starved, exhausted, and needing a smile, the love of my life took me to a small Chinese/Japanese/Korean place called Yen Ching's. A little while ago, they replaced their sushi bar with shabu-shabu tables and he had stumbled upon it during the week while I was gone. I think I smiled the whole time we were there. It's difficult to get good Chinese food here- much less find speciality items.

We had Shabu-Shabu when we were in San Mateo, California two springs ago and it remains one of my favorite meals of all times. Shabu-Shabu is when you swish your prime cut, thinly sliced beef in the pot of boiling broth and add fresh veggies and tofu to the mix. (Thus the name, Shabu-shabu which means swish-swish!)

Hot and fresh, it's the perfect meal for friends to gather around- except if you have one who hates raw meat. (We're putting her down at one end of the table and ordering her "real" Chinese food off the menu. I promised to keep the meat on the other side of her- if she'd come).

Yen Ching's is slightly different from the California experience... but I'm thrilled that it's even an option. I called and made reservations for six or seven for tonight and told them to save spots at the shabu-shabu table. We'll be there by 6:30! I'll take pics. I could eat there once a week I think. The dumplings were homemade, the egg rolls weren't greasy, and the shabu-shabu was incredible. It's a little expensive, but worth it!

Eating Shabu-Shabu

I wonder who I can convince to go with me next week??? :)

I taught 3rd graders today. They had a spelling test, a reading test, and a math test... and Friday is our early day when they go home at 1. I think if I was a parent, I might have my kid skip Fridays! You can tell Fall is here by the smell of roasting green chillis in the air and the hot air balloons are in the sky nearly every morning!

PS. If you see my LG cherry chocolate cell phone wandering the world without me, tell it come home asap or I'll replace it for a spiffier one that doesn't break all the time! (Maybe it's in a pocket. I should check before I do the wash!)

oh... did ya' ever notice how the first sip of iced diet coke does a dance of joy in your mouth? ;)

Malpractice...

Thu, 25 Sep 2008 17:28:09 GMT

I bumped into my 5th graders (who are now 6th graders) when I went to the cafeteria to pick up lunch for the little Pre-k kids. Theo ran to give me a hug and then quickly backed away when he remembered that 6th grade boys don't hug teachers. The next day he waved from his seat until his arm got tired. It was the first time since the last day of school that I'd seen these kids and they were as happy to see me as I was to see them. We laughed a little. Theo asked about something he'd left in the class and I told him where I'd stashed it. Ray grinned when I said I had something for him and Charles play pouted when I said I didn't have anything for him.

In the teacher's room at lunchtime, the two new 6th grader teachers were complaining about their classes. One explained in great depth to me that bullying is just a part of growing up and that you can't stop it or prevent it while the other one complained that the kids were distracted, bored, and unteachable. I held my tongue because I don't know them and scolding someone you don't have a relationship with doesn't change behavior. But it made me furious.

If you don't like kids... then DON'T teach! If you can't interfere with bullying or plan stuff that engages them, then go flip burgers at Lotta Burger or something. If you can't protect the kid being bullied or provide the bully with a more positive way of getting attention, then you aren't helping either child, and in fact, you're hurting our society... so just go do something else that doesn't affect people for life. Plus, if you can't make your subject area exciting, maybe you should get a job putting lids on jars... because if you're not excited about what you're teaching, they won't be either. (And I know you can't be exciting 100% of the time, but kids will forgive that and hang with you through the boring parts if you're exciting some of the time.) I don't think any child is unteachable either. I've not met any child who couldn't learn something. Even my most lowest functioning, nonverbal, physically involved kids learned to signal yes and no with their eyes some of the time and the kids these two were complaining about weren't that involved. It's pure laziness I suspect.

Both teacher should be worried about malpractice lawsuits as adults who care about kids hold them accountable for their poor practice (Not that that will happen- it's very rare when it does). And... they, at least, have a choice. It's our kids who are completely powerless, stuck in a system for 13 years, at the whim of adults who may or may not be reasonable. Theo worried about asking the new teacher to check her desk for something, and it's a reasonable worry. She might be willing to look for him or she might flip out and rant about it. "If she won't look," I say, "let me know and I'll ask her." Because she has to act more reasonable with another adult... it's unfair, but we both know the odds of her screaming at him are much higher than the odds of her screaming at me- even if we both ask the same thing.

Theo, Ray, and Charles are used to be powerless and have developed a full range of strategies to regain some of their self-respect. While their teachers won't be thrilled at the consequences of the boys search for power in a powerless system, it will help them maintain their dignity and personality. It'd be easier for the two 6th grade teachers if they'd recognize the need for their students to make important decisions and if they'd treat the class with respect, giving every student the kind of education they deserve- the kind of quality education that enriches our whole society. But I suspect they won't and that my boys will have to use every single strategy they have learned and a few more to survive this year. I"ll work on developing a good relationship with the two teachers and maybe they'll listen to some advice from someone who likes the kids. (Maybe?)

In the meantime, I'll keep an eye on my 6th graders, fight their battles if they need me to, or just listen to their woes of the current injustice they're experiencing... and maybe those two new teachers will be sick a lot and I'll be in the classroom in their place! Maybe! :)

Need A Playlist...

Tue, 23 Sep 2008 03:44:42 GMT

I'm home and mostly recovered from the allergy-induced asthma attack (from the down bedding at the hotel) that started Saturday morning. I did ok last week. I did what I had to do for the most part and a bit more. I learned a lot (and not just about the work- but about myself).

One of the things I realized was that I don't have the right music for this job. We use music for cues to change topics, events, etc. We play it before the seminar starts and as it ends... and that where I have a problem. While I'm perfectly fine playing my Vanness Wu or Lee Hom Wang (or even some of my favorite ska or happy punk) to a group of educators, it isn't something they are familiar with or can relate to easily. Thus... I need to begin to acquire more mainstream music. And... you all know how bad I am at American music... so I could use your help creating a playlist of upbeat, positive fairly current (last 15 years) music.

Talking about music--- in Pre K, we have a little boy who doesn't know the letters in his name, his colors, or his numbers- or any of the other academic knowledge we teachers like to see- but he can sing all the words to Punk Rock Star...

I ask myself about a way
To turn these things around
But they all say
I gotta wait for another day
I don't wanna wait
Cause everything is being gay
I play my guitar
But all my dreams are going so far
I guess that it's just me
And all I wanna be
Cause being a punk rock star
You get no fame at all
I'm sure this time
I'll get what I deserve

In my book.... that counts for something....

So... share your favorite mainstream playlist with me! OK?

It's A BIG World.... Sometimes...

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 03:34:17 GMT

The size of the world is directly related to your personal experiences, knowledge, and interests. If you live in a small box, then anything outside that box seems huge, but if you are absorbing experiences and knowledge like a Bounty paper towel, then the world shrinks.

The more you stuff your brain with things, the more connections you see around you and more things make sense. For example, last week while I was playing on lala.com I was listening to a "new to me" rap musician. I loved his sound and listened to everything they had by him. Tonight at dinner, one of his songs was playing in the background. I recognized it immediately. The two people sitting next to me were talking about his and his life while the song played. It was only because of my exposure the week before that I was familiar with the artist and as I listened to their conversation, I was reminded at how little I knew about the person behind the music.

At that same meal, another person was talking about a specific nationality's food and I asked about a dessert I'd had once. She named it instantly and asked if I'd ever had it. I was the only one at the table who knew it. Not because I'm the best traveled- because in this group, I'm not, or because I'm the most knowledgeable- because, again, in this group I'm not... but because I had a friend from this culture who made it for me once and I was curious about what she did to make it and the list of ingredients. (It's also the first time I had red beans as a dessert). My knowing about her childhood dessert drew us a little closer and gave us something to bond a little deeper, making the world seem like a small, small place after all.

Two different experiences from my day which had many- it left me wondering just what I want to learn or explore next. And... I wondered what little thing was going to make my world seem a little smaller. Have you had anything similar happen to you like that lately?

No time or energy to visit... when I get back- I promise!

Forgot...

Mon, 15 Sep 2008 02:14:26 GMT

I'm in Birmingham for the week- with a sinus infection and without a hairbrush or my makeup.... I need a Walgreens run asap, but I don't have a car and downtown was dead when I arrived at 5:30 so I suspect I have to wait until tomorrow and then beg a ride. I'm not usually this forgetful! Sigh! At least I figured out where we're meeting tomorrow and how to get there! :) Internet is $10 a day so I won't be on every night... maybe a couple times during the week! So take care out there!