Memories
It was an modified schedule at the charter school in Albuquerque where I work, and as they announced our school got an "A" and celebrated with free klondike bars/ ice cream, teachers gathered, standing to talk, celebrating and enjoying the break from our first week of kids, and I honestly felt like I could not fit in.
I sat down.
The nice VP came over and just checked in with me, we chatted about guitars (as he plays, and runs the club) and ukeleles, and he added, "Someday I want to hear about your experiences teaching in Los Angeles and New York City....
So I was thinking more later, what would I tell him? How would my stories tilt, would I end up talking more about the 6 hour commute to that yeshiva to work only 2 hours, or would I mention the cool kids who at age 40 are my friends on Facebook, like Steve Jones and LaToya Howlett? Would I mourn the fact that I wished I had helped more with the wonderful Colors United drama program that Phil Simms (not the football player) put together that contributed to saving many lives? (i was too busy with my first gf and with working nights and weekends at Knotts Berry Farm...always TWO jobs?!) Would my talk about so many schools imply the truth, that i moved around a lot?
Here is Baldo's photo of him, Tweety (one of the few light skin'ed boys, Steve) and some of his pals in our rather ghetto, beat up high school yard, around 1994. I used to say although somewhat quietly, that this part of Watts was a place they recycled metals and materials and in this case we were taking kids and building them up.
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000272178570 One of my students in Journalism and 10th grade English class at David Starr Jordan High School, LAUSD. Oscar Sierra.
In March of 1989, I interviewed for a job teaching at David Starr Jordan High School in Watts / South Central Los Angeles, California. If you know me, you know I grew up in a suburb of Los Angeles, a safe and quiet and mostly pink skinned neighborhood. When I went for the interview, I dressed differently then I do now. I was in a black a-line skirt with probably a soft silk blouse, nylons and high heels. The talk with Mrs. Grace Strauther was fairly long but all I remember was her asking me: have you heard about us? would you be afraid to work here? And I was very naive and back then we did not research work places, so I was just happy to get a job!
I began teaching a pretty good schedule, mid semester, taking over for Ms. Benita Horn who had disappeared so it seemed. Remnants of her career, dittos, lesson plans, and brochures about Club Med! yeah, I think she burned out and ran away. I was the hero, taking over for someone and establishing a new, loyal system that cared for the kids. One class was American Lit with 3 kids, a roster of about 20 but none of them came. Turns out there were holes cut into the fence that surrounded this large school, so kids would sneak out. Besides that, many kids just did not come to school. As well, this was Watts, but this was a transition from 90% African American kids to a majority of Hispanic kids. The tension was there. The classroom was an old home economics room, and the stoves were still hooked up! Some of them had burn marks from mischievous fires in the past. The room was huge, and this was weird when sometimes there were few kids. In 1992, there i was standing next to Denzel Washington on a basketball court. Other teachers and I had volunteered to play against some stars at a Get Out The Vote thing at our school. At about 4 pm, the people were like, GO HOME. Go home now! The verdict had come in regarding the Rodney King trial, and the cops were free. A riot was coming back in the place of the 1960 Watts Riots. In my home, Downey, my better half took her dad's gun out of the garage, fearing chaos in our town. We were safe. When we got back to school in about 4 days, LaToya Howlett said, "Here is some cat food I stole for you...!" Kids told me what they took, and in my born again, following rules way, I only can forgive them because 1/2 of my peers were stealing software which was also stealing. They moved me to a bungalow. Probably the worst building, no heat, no air conditioning, tiles peeling off the ceiling. The restroom was really far away, and I was a two cup of coffee girl, so that part was a struggle.
I have so many memories. I think I absorb and I reflect on education from these past stories. How about you?
Diane L. Styma
PHILIPPA SCHUYLER
It was an modified schedule at the charter school in Albuquerque where I work, and as they announced our school got an "A" and celebrated with free klondike bars/ ice cream, teachers gathered, standing to talk, celebrating and enjoying the break from our first week of kids, and I honestly felt like I could not fit in.
I sat down.
The nice VP came over and just checked in with me, we chatted about guitars (as he plays, and runs the club) and ukeleles, and he added, "Someday I want to hear about your experiences teaching in Los Angeles and New York City....
So I was thinking more later, what would I tell him? How would my stories tilt, would I end up talking more about the 6 hour commute to that yeshiva to work only 2 hours, or would I mention the cool kids who at age 40 are my friends on Facebook, like Steve Jones and LaToya Howlett? Would I mourn the fact that I wished I had helped more with the wonderful Colors United drama program that Phil Simms (not the football player) put together that contributed to saving many lives? (i was too busy with my first gf and with working nights and weekends at Knotts Berry Farm...always TWO jobs?!) Would my talk about so many schools imply the truth, that i moved around a lot?
Here is Baldo's photo of him, Tweety (one of the few light skin'ed boys, Steve) and some of his pals in our rather ghetto, beat up high school yard, around 1994. I used to say although somewhat quietly, that this part of Watts was a place they recycled metals and materials and in this case we were taking kids and building them up.
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000272178570 One of my students in Journalism and 10th grade English class at David Starr Jordan High School, LAUSD. Oscar Sierra.
In March of 1989, I interviewed for a job teaching at David Starr Jordan High School in Watts / South Central Los Angeles, California. If you know me, you know I grew up in a suburb of Los Angeles, a safe and quiet and mostly pink skinned neighborhood. When I went for the interview, I dressed differently then I do now. I was in a black a-line skirt with probably a soft silk blouse, nylons and high heels. The talk with Mrs. Grace Strauther was fairly long but all I remember was her asking me: have you heard about us? would you be afraid to work here? And I was very naive and back then we did not research work places, so I was just happy to get a job!
I began teaching a pretty good schedule, mid semester, taking over for Ms. Benita Horn who had disappeared so it seemed. Remnants of her career, dittos, lesson plans, and brochures about Club Med! yeah, I think she burned out and ran away. I was the hero, taking over for someone and establishing a new, loyal system that cared for the kids. One class was American Lit with 3 kids, a roster of about 20 but none of them came. Turns out there were holes cut into the fence that surrounded this large school, so kids would sneak out. Besides that, many kids just did not come to school. As well, this was Watts, but this was a transition from 90% African American kids to a majority of Hispanic kids. The tension was there. The classroom was an old home economics room, and the stoves were still hooked up! Some of them had burn marks from mischievous fires in the past. The room was huge, and this was weird when sometimes there were few kids. In 1992, there i was standing next to Denzel Washington on a basketball court. Other teachers and I had volunteered to play against some stars at a Get Out The Vote thing at our school. At about 4 pm, the people were like, GO HOME. Go home now! The verdict had come in regarding the Rodney King trial, and the cops were free. A riot was coming back in the place of the 1960 Watts Riots. In my home, Downey, my better half took her dad's gun out of the garage, fearing chaos in our town. We were safe. When we got back to school in about 4 days, LaToya Howlett said, "Here is some cat food I stole for you...!" Kids told me what they took, and in my born again, following rules way, I only can forgive them because 1/2 of my peers were stealing software which was also stealing. They moved me to a bungalow. Probably the worst building, no heat, no air conditioning, tiles peeling off the ceiling. The restroom was really far away, and I was a two cup of coffee girl, so that part was a struggle.
I have so many memories. I think I absorb and I reflect on education from these past stories. How about you?
Diane L. Styma
PHILIPPA SCHUYLER
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