Stuff

I'm blogging from my sister's laptop in Savannah. I tried to leave to go back home, but she phoned me to let me know that I left a bag and my coat. I decided to turn around and return to gather my things. Now I'm just waiting until my mom gets off work before I leave. I already saw her today, but I'm a little sleepy so that gives me an excuse to see her one more time and will allow me to get some rest.

Mrs. Campbell, who I call my other mother, said something to me that helped me see things differently with regard to him*. She told me that he already has to answer for his wrongs. I'll be judged based on how I interact with him. That really helped me. I can be cordial. I just have to limit my engagements with him though, because I'm not nearly as strong as it may seem. My inclination is to lash out at him, so I have to be really careful not to go around him too much.

The whole holiday thing went okay. I did leave the house the night before Christmas and considering getting a room, but I decided to return. My mother seems so happy now that I'm home. I know she misses me because it is so rare that I come. She knows why though. She doesn't necessarily like it, but she does know. We only talk about it on occasion. It's kinda like gays in the military - don't ask don't tell. We choose to ignore the big pink elephant that did the somersault in the middle of the living room.

I was glad to see my aunts and uncles and cousins and brother and sister and their families. One brother didn't make it. He and his wife went to her parents' house. I guess that's what you have to do when you're married, but they also went there for Thanksgiving as well. On top of that they didn't send a gift for my mother. He claimed he couldn't afford to buy any gifts this year. He recently got a job and did you miss the part where I said they went to the other in laws' house. We're talking about a three hour drive. I started to call him and go off, but a part of my personal growth and reflection has been for me to take my mouth off people and their situations. As much as I would like to question whether they purchased a gift for his wife's mother, I'm gonna try my best to leave it alone. I'm not trying to make comparisons, but I just have some questions...

This is all over the place. I just checked my email and a guy contacted me about a job. I need to decide whether I plan to follow up with that or not....I could use the extra bread to help me with my relocation expenses.

Sayings

If I can't believe everything you say, then I can't believe nothing you say. (I am aware of the double negative.)

This is one of the most poignant sayings that I have ever heard. It speaks to honesty and integrity--two closely related ideas that are of paramount importance to me. If you want the fight of your life, say something against my character. I can handle all other attacks against me. You can call me short, fat, ugly, stink, stupid, etc., but under no circumstances can you assassinate my character. Your name is all you have and when people attack your name they in essence attempt to alter your destiny. I say alter your destiny because when other people hear what someone who has attacked you has said, they engage you in conversation and in deed as if what the attacker said is/was the gospel truth. I'm not sure where this diatribe came from, but I just had this on my heart. It's not like anything like this has happened to me recently, but I just felt like putting this out there.

In other news, a teacher at my school beat up a student, a kid set a desk on fire, and we have random students (one of whom is in my 3rd block class) pulling fire alarms for kicks. East Side High.

What are some of your favorite sayings and why do they speak such volumes to you?

Action!

It is difficult for other people to understand why I'm not all gung-ho about going home for the holidays. I realize that most people want nothing more than to be with their families during this time of year. However, for me, I'm not feeling the holidays like that. As a matter of fact, I choose not to go home very often because I have so many issues with some of the things going on there. Perhaps most people grew up in with a nice home environment. That is not the context from which I draw my lived experience. Moreover, I believe that it is because most people had a "normal" home life, that they find it hard to understand when someone from a dysfunctional situation chooses to distance themselves from home.

For one, my mother's husband (until I see a blood test I won't call him my f____r), has had both legs amputated and is blind and still calls himself "pastoring" a church. He needs to sit down somewhere. How can someone in his condition effectively lead a flock of parishoners? On top of the health issues, he has so many psychological issues that it is not funny. I dont' have the emotional energy right now to go into detail, but suffice it to say ole dude is crazy. The sad part is that he thinks it's everyone else--a hallmark of people in his mental state.

The reason most people cannot wrap their minds around someone adamantly refusing to be involved in home life is because of what I call "The Script." Society has written a stage play in which our roles are defined, complete with stage directions. According to the script, any dutiful son should be home with family, sitting around the fireplace reminiscing on days gone by. I'd much rather skip meals for three days. (Anyone who knows me knows how much I love to eat.) People who deviate from the script are labeled as social misfits by society. I do not apologize for deviating from the script. If anyone had a home life like I had, and I realize that other people had it so much worse, then they would understand why I choose to exit stage left, rather than move in closer.

I have no desire to have a relationship with that man. He keeps calling me and I keep ignoring his calls. Last night I was duped into answering the phone. I have his number stored as Don't Answer, but for some reason I looked at the digits instead of the words and hit the talk button. As soon as the interrogation began I had regretted not reading, after all, reading is fundamental. The question about why I haven't returned calls came up. So as not to have a heated discussion in front of my company I simply said I'd been busy. Of course, he didn't like that answer and asked me if I was angry with him. That's the understatement of the freakin' decade. I didn't even have language to have that conversation with him so I had to end it so that my attitude wouldn't be bad, since I was on my way out.

When I talk to some of my friends about how I feel they try to tell me how I should feel and what I should do. I am not interested in how you think I should feel or what you think I should do. That's why I rarely discuss it because most people simply cannot wrap their minds around the decisions that I have made with respect to this situation. Their advice always heads toward trying to talk to him and getting over it, etc. I really can't be mad at them because those are the types of answers that should be given to someone based on what is printed in the script. What they don't understand is that the copy of the script that I received was markedly different from the ones that they read. One of my friends claims to "get it" but at the same time always remarks about how she thinks I'm wrong for this and that. That means that you DON'T get it!! What annoys me is that people want me to detail some life-shattering event that caused me to feel such resentment toward him. Since no single event exists (i.e. molestation, abuse, drug use,etc.) that would be considered "bad" enough for me to feel this way, people dismiss how I feel. Again, the script dictates that there had to be some capital offense before you can say that a parent is not worthy of your time, rather than the sum of all the years of your existence, with every passing day spent with a person more miserable that the previous.

When I am done with someone I am done. Come hell or high water. It is over. Finished. (Notice the pattern 5-3-1). The part I hate most is that I have withdrawn from my mother as well. She likes to encourage me to speak to him as well. That type of behavior only makes me reluctant to call her as well. As a matter of fact, it makes me resentful on some level, as she should clearly understand why I feel and behave this way. She's just a Christian though. It doesn't matter what someone has done, she believes in forgiveness. I do too. However, I subscribe to a brand of forgiviness that does not require that I still interact with the offender. I can wash my hands of you and be fine. Truthfully, when he's no longer in the picture I'll make up for this lost time between my mother and I. Given his health, I don't think it should be much longer.

Leave it to Hallmark

A part of my rearing was done in a town that had a population of about 872 called Screven, Georgia. It wasn't until 1989 that the family moved to Savannah, so I spent about six years in Screven. The town recently like in the last five years got an additional stoplight. It already had one stoplight and a caution light. There were railroad tracks that separated the Black side of town from the other side. Needless to say, there was little mixing--as a matter of fact I can only recall seeing white people at school and at the local grocery store. I don't ever remember seeing a single white person in my neighborhood.

Anywho, there was a revered former teacher who had been diagnosed with cancer. At age six I didn't know what cancer was, but I knew it would eventually lead to her death. I never had this woman as a teacher, but when the news about her illness spread through town, and I listened to people recount tales of how she chastised them when they were wrong and how she inspired them to greatness I wished that I had had an opportunity for my life to have been touched by her. Since I fate would not allow her to inspire me, I thought I'd do something to inspire her.

I decided to send her a personalized greeting card. I drew her a nice picture on the front and on the inside scribed the words, "Get well soon slut." I drew another picture on the back of the card and headed down the street to deliver my well wishes. When I reached her house I proudly knocked on the door and gave the card to her son. He was about sixteen or so I guess. He said thank you and glanced at the message on the inside. His countenance fell. I was perplexed, even though I didn't know the word perplexed at the time. He told me he'd make sure everyone saw the card. Of course my intention was that his mother got the card, but in my youthful ignorance I swelled with pride when he said that he'd show it to everyone. I asked him if it was okay for me to get a pear from the tree and he said yes. I scaled the tree and bopped back home.

I can remember using the bathroom and my aunt burst in and said that I was in trouble. I didn't know why, but somehow I figured that it related to that card that I delivered. She said a bunch of stuff that I don't remember or would never repeat and said she'd tell my parents when they got home. I was nonchalant because I didn't know what I had done wrong. All I knew was a lady was sick and I tried to cheer her up by giving her a card. When my parents got home I got yelled at and got my azz tore up! Nobody ever bothered to explain to me that the message in the card was offensive.

The reason I used the word slut is because my sister and aunt were in the next room while I was designing the card and I kept hearing them call this girl named Katrina a slut. They used the word so frequently that I thought it must mean something good. I was able to sound it out and spell it using phonetics. I think my sister and aunt are the ones who should have actually been punished. I was impressionable.

Years later I spoke to my parents about the severe beating that I received as a result of that incident and explained to them one of the numerous parenting mistakes they made. The realism is that it is not effective to punish someone without explaining why they are being punished. When I told them this they said they were disciplining me. I told them that punishment and discipline are not the same thing. Discipline seeks to replace negative behaviors and may involve consequences. Punishment only involves consequences.

In the future I think I'll leave the greeting cards to the professionals.

Is That Your Version?

I had a run in with a lady on my job. She told a student that because she missed a day of school that she didn't have to take my test (emphasis on my). Of course this is not SOP so I stepped to her and let her know that. I don't think she really understood the seriousness of what she did so I drafted a letter to her to let her know.

October 22, 2007 Dear Ms. K, I decided to follow up our verbal conversation on Friday, October 19, 2007, with a letter. If my tone came across as mean-spirited let me offer an apology. However, let me hasten to say that I do not apologize for the substance of the message that was delivered to you. As educators, we have to be mindful of students’ attempts to circumvent authority and accountability. Keisha’s intention was to use the absence to negate having to take the test. The insinuation here is that one day’s absence compromised an entire unit of study and that students bear no responsibility for material covered in absentia. She was fully capable of attempting the test. Furthermore, any student that performs poorly on any test that I administer is re-taught and allowed an opportunity to retest. This is a policy that applies in my classroom and is availed to all students. Keisha is also fully aware of this policy. It was with this advanced knowledge that Keisha approached you to conspire against my classroom. I am deeply offended that you would overstep your authority, advise Keisha that she did not have to take the test and that this message was conveyed by a child. Minimally, if you had a concern about the information you had received from Keisha, professional courtesy dictates that I be given an opportunity to speak on the matter prior to your taking a course of action based solely on one-sided information. I have an obligation to the state of North Carolina to ensure that Keisha is successful on the geometry end of course test. As a matter of fact, ensuring students’ success on the end of course test is a major responsibility of my job and as such has a primacy for me. To be clear, I do not owe you an explanation about the curricular decisions that I make in my classroom so long as I make provisions for the modifications that Keisha is afforded. Please understand that when I do make a decision it is not to harm students, but to help them and to help me get a better idea about what I can do to help them reach and demonstrate mastery. There should be no confusion about what students are expected to do. It is unfortunate that the student made a poor choice in this case, but I cannot blame her for her poor decision, since she felt justified, having acted at your behest. If the student dialogues with her guardians about how I told her to do one thing and you told her to do something to the contrary, that may raise the ire of the guardians who are not privy to all the details of the situation. In turn, they may come to the school to conference about this situation. Honestly, they would have a valid reason for doing so. When a child makes claims about receiving mixed messages, it is a parent’s right to conference with the involved parties in an attempt to sort out the matter. I hope that you are prepared to field any questions that might arise as a result of this situation. It is not my desire to conference about this matter, but if the parents request it, I will comply. I will be careful with the language that I use as well, so as not to make it seem as if there exists an antagonistic relationship between you and I. I will do this because I believe that as colleagues we need to be on one accord and display a unified front to both parents and students. I am aware of the many ways that students try to manipulate adults. In this case, Keisha’s behavior, with your assistance, severely compromised her learning. Perhaps the bidirectional message is what is most egregious about this situation. In essence, with your telling the student one thing and me telling her another, my actions were misinterpreted as me trying to impose an undue hardship on the student. To the contrary, I know that brain-based learning suggests that students are more likely to retain information in their long-term memory with repeated exposure. An enormous gap exists between what a teacher explains and what a learner understands. To reduce this gap, teachers need to engage students for deeper understanding and feedback with implicit and explicit learning strategies. If you don’t know what they didn’t get, how can you elaborate effectively? Making corrections as we go along is a critical approach for teaching with the brain in mind. (Jensen, 2000, p. 35) As you can see, my policies are in full keeping with best professional practices. I do not apologize for having high expectations for my students, as I am critically aware of what is necessary for them to be successful in this course and in life. Moreover, when it appears that we, as colleagues, are divided in our approach to handling student affairs, the involved student suffers. In this case Keisha compromised a beneficial learning opportunity. This situation is indicative of what occurs when educators do not grant each other the professional respect and courtesy that is necessary for the school to work harmoniously. Nevertheless, in an effort to foster greater communication about Keisha’s progress I will make available a copy of her latest progress report to you. In addition I am enclosing a copy of the course outline so that you can peruse it and familiarize yourself with the content therein, including the established policies and procedures for my classroom. If you need clarity about the content of the documents that I am sending, please contact me. Respectfully submitted, James Bailey Enclosures cc: The principal Assistant principal (primary evaluator)

After the letter was submitted the assistant principal stepped to me to let me know that I had her full support. Then Ms. K gets someone else involved and spins the story. Supposedly the girl was ill in class on the day of the test and that's why she didn't want to take it. I asked Ms. M who brought me this information why Ms. K dind't communicate that to me when we had our verbal conversation and how come she didn't say anything to me after I gave her the letter. Of course Ms. M couldn't answer for Ms. K but I made it clear that this sounds like journalistic spin to me-- you know how they say that Gore is president, but then recant when that's not the angle that they were going for.

In other news things are pretty much okay. I got word that I would be receiving a bonus in my upcoming paycheck. Yay! I have an assignment due for class this Tuesday that was really due last Tuesday but SHE showed up again. The realism is that I should be doing my assignment now, instead of messing with this blog. Let me hop to it.

Coach Carter

I got up early and put on a nice outfit because on that day we were going to be having an assembly at school. Someone had arranged for out students to meet the real Coach Carter. When the students found out about it, some of them thought that Samuel L. Jackson was coming. I had to remind them that movies are not real and the people playing in the movies are just actors.

For some reason I had to go by the ATM this particular morning. I don't remember the reason why now. After I got some $$$ I continued up the same road the ATM was on, which is not my normal route. It was raining but not too hard. An officer came up behind me and got closer to my bumper than necessary. I knew then that he was running my tag to find out who I was. Driving while black is a mutha. He stops me. I pull over and he comes up to tell me that my tag is expired. I tell him that I think he is incorrect because I had already paid the taxes on my car.

Where I'm originally from (Georgia) when you pay the taxes you get a new decal. I did not realize in NC that you pay taxes and a separate decal fee. Ignorance of the law, however, is no excuse. He finds out that I also had a revoked license. I knew my license was revoked but I just hadn't found the time to handle the paperwork associated with getting it reinstated. It got revoked because I had gotten a ticket earlier. I paid the fine but did not send the receipt back to Georgia, where I was still maintaining a license at the time, even though I was living in NC.

He tells me to get out of the car so that he can arrest me for driving with a revoked license and having an expired tag. I am disappointed but not shocked. I knew I was getting arrested as soon as he pulled me over. I get out of the car and he puts the handcuff on while other cars speed by me on their way to wherever. I tell him that I'm sick and I don't need to be in the rain. He says he'll try to make it quick. He checks my pockets and inquires about the contents. I had some flash drives/jump drives/thumb drives (I've heard so many names for them) in my pocket. He asked what they were. I told him, but he seemed like he wasn't sure about my response. He asked where I worked. I told him I worked for the county. I was certainly not going to reveal to him that I worked for the school system so that he could try to make this a bigger deal than it was.

At some point he led me to his cruiser and had me sit down and told me he was going to search my vehicle. All I could think about was this white cop was going to plant some drugs in my car (Jaguar) to try to get a promotion on the force or something. Maybe I overanalyze but that's all I could think about. Plus if he did plant the drugs how would I convince anyone that the drugs weren't mine? He didn't find any drugs but he came back with a knife that I had in the armrest. He told me that I was carrying a concealed weapon, but that he would not add that to the charge. Somewhere in the midst of all that was going on he called another officer for backup. Mind you I'm 5'6" 152 lbs. Why the fuck did he need backup? Plus I was sick and I thought I was fly(see paragraph one).

They towed the car to some tow place way far away from where I live. I rode in the car to the local jail downtown. I told the officer while I was in the car that the cuffs were too tight. He told me that he knew what they felt like because they have to wear them as a part of their training. I'm thinking if you know mutha*#2&#@! take them off me. When we got to the garage under the jail we had to wait in the car because they were filming a commercail in the jail. The officer joked saying that I could be on tv. He asked me if I wanted to be in the commercial. I very curtly replied no and I told him I didn't think it was funny. He got out of the car after a while and led me inside. I had to sit on a bench and he handcuffed me to a bar that was on the back of the bench like I was a member of a cow herd. I told him that I did not want to be cuffed to the bar. He said his sargeant would get him if he didn't. I asked him if his sargeant had plans to come by here at 7:45 on a Tuesday morning. He didn't respond. I continued trying to pressure him to not cuff me. I asked him if he had checked out my shoes. I then followed up with do you think I'm going to run and scuff up my shoes? He still cuffed me to the bar anyway.

He started doing the paperwork and I was given a chance to contact a bailbondsman. I called a bondsman, but I still had to go upstairs to be booked and fingerprinted. After I was processed they made me answer a million questions and put me in a holding cell. I was in the cell for at least 2 hours. It only had a bench and a toilet sink thing that was all in one hooked together. Finally they released me when my bailbondsman arrived. I got my belongings and called someone from work to come and get me.

Luckily for me things at work were okay because we were having the assembly that day. If we weren't I would have had to call and tell them I couldn't make it for whatever reason. I really think all this happened because a white cop saw a young handsome black male driving what he thinks is an expensive ride.

VIP

So yesterday I headed down to Charlotte to hang out with my friend Tonya. (I can't remember the fake name I used so I'll just use the real one. Makes life easier.) She's down there on business for about two weeks. She called me about 8:30 a.m. Saturday morning to see if I wanted to come down. I was feeling kinda sick so I told her I would let her know. As a matter of fact I was supposed to hang out Friday night with some peeps but I let my boy know that I was having the runny nose/fever/cough/need-to-head-this-off-before-it-gets-worse thing going on. I ended up just staying in Friday night taking some Sudafed and drinking some lemon tea.

Let me do a short thing on lemon tea. Every time I get sick this is what I use to open my sinuses and to help break up the phlegm that needs to come up so that you can get better. All you need to do is roll some lemons and squeeze the juice in some water. Put the squeezed lemon halves in the water too and boil it on the stove. Add a teaspoon of sugar of Karo syrup--I guess you could actually use the sweetener of your choice but only use about a teaspoon just to take the edge off. (Ending two sentences with prepositions--JayBee you MUST be sick! Look back up at the bold words.)

Anyway after I got my haircut I and threw some stuff in a bag I headed down to Charlotte to hang. When I arrived I went to her hotel. I was not pleased. The hotel is called The Blake. It looks like an old LaQuinta Inn that the new owners have not yet gotten around to renovating. The plan was for me to crash there for the night, but once I arrived I made a quick decision to stay at the Omni. We left the hotel to grab a bite to eat. If you're ever in Charlotte you must try one of her most famous dives called Price's Chicken Coop. The locals affectionately refer to it as the "Chicken Coot". From there we headed to South Park mall. As we were leaving the mall we heard music wafting through the air and decided to investigate. They were having a jazz in the park type festival on the back side of the mall on a grassy knoll. The parking was kinda hectic so I decided to go to the VIP parking area. The attendant asked if we had the appropriate pass. I told him that I did not, but that I wished to park in the area anyway. He paused and then he relented. He told me what space to take and basically to act like I was supposed to be there. Tonya and I said that he must not know who we were because that would be a small feat.

We stayed for about 15 minutes because of the impromptu nature of this deviation from our plan less day. Everyone else had blankets, coolers, buckets of KFC, lawn chairs, etc. When we got back downtown we parked and decided to walk. Some stranger on the street asked me if I had change for one million dollars. I was in disbelief. I almost came to tears because he said it with such conviction. We decided to go to Ruth's Chris for dinner. When we arrived the hostess asked if we had a reservation. I told her no. She said all that was available right now was the bar and the patio. My body language let her know that I didn't find that acceptable. She said she'd go ahead and seat us in the dining room after I motioned Tonya toward the door. When we go to our seats we panned the restaurant. TUMBLEWEEDS. There was hardly anyone there. I think of about 50 tables maybe three had guests seated at them. Who was she trying to fool like it was standing room only in that joint. I knew there was no one there when we got there because it was so quiet.

I dropped her off at her hotel and I checked into the mine. I showered and got dressed to go out. After checking out a couple of spots downtown we ended up at The Forum. While waiting in line I decided to find out how much it was for the VIP line. Dude said $20 and you still have to pay the $10 cover. I was straight on that cause the regular line wasn't that long. After about two minutes the dude called me over and told me that I couldn't go inside with my hat on and to hide it. So I did and he motioned for Tonya and let us in the VIP line for free. There probably about 15 people in front of us and I'm sure they were wondering who we were.

It was a mixed crowd so I was feeling that part. The music was kinda wack for most of the night, but the mixed crowd thing was definitely a plus. I get tired of waiting on the fight/shootout at all black clubs. There were some people about to get in a fight and of course they all looked like me. I just don't get it. I'm JayBee bitch! After we got tired of the wackness of the music we posted up outside and went down to another club. We could hear the music from outside and it was even worse! I was not kicking out any more dough for another wack DJ Fumblefingers. Our purpose wasn't to meet people. We just went to have a good time. Here are some pics for your viewing pleasure.


With shades.


Here I am with red eyes.


Tonya thought she was the stuff last night!


Have a great week! Oh and I didn't mention that we all but got cussed out on the job on Thursday, but that's a whole 'nother post. See ya.