"What Month is it guys?" "October!" "No, no it is not..."

I've got chalk dust on the side of my hands. My kids are always pointing this out to me while I wander around the room making sure that Bobby isn't hitting Suzy and meanwhile making sure that Eli's book is open and he's not drooling on his desk for the fifteenth time. Meanwhile the kids that pay attention say "Teacher your hands are very dirty."
They are dirty because instead of wasting time hunting for an eraser, which are generally dish towels that have been soaked in a bucket in a drawer for the past month I use the backs of my hands to erase the board. I have learned that white chalk erases easily and generally is softer on the hands. Pink chalk is waxy and harder to come off and red chalk is neigh impossible. I have a memo that's always starting me in the face in my planner. "Stay away from the red chalk." I've had it stain my hands and my clothes. I used it a lot on Halloween because it would turn my hands red and they would joke and think it was blood. Funny little buggers.

This thought weirded me out the other day - I'm a teacher. I full out teacher. I mean, yes, I only see these kids once a week and I don't have to deal with them on a daily basis like most teachers do, and I don't grade homework or give tests but still; I am up there at the front of their class once a week. When I wander around the room and watch them throw whatever thing that was on top of their desk that was not supposed to be there into the bowels of their desk and pull out their books to show "why yes I was paying attention," I am constantly reminded of being in high school, or junior high, or elementary school for that matter. I was a "drawing kid" as most of you I'm sure are aware or could have guessed. While the teacher was talking I would have my book open and the work was generally finished before some of the others. I would also have another pad of paper open and would be drawing. Most of my "drawing kids" tend to just draw on whatever they have near them, their open workbooks, their desks, themselves. I don't punish these kids, I never have. The only time I reprimanded one was when I caught one older boy in one of my 9th grade classes drawing an elaborate bold faced block letter of the word "Fuck". I complimented him for his artistry and promptly confiscated it.

It's amazing what a small basketball can do to promote rapport with your kids. After class they stole it and we were playing a weird sort of game of catch/keep away. Then they started throwing it to kids in the upper grades. So we were having mixed ages play together. It was cute. I was proud. I like to promote stuff like that. Right now I eat lunch with a 7th grader and an 8th grader. I remember being in junior high and not talking/fearing the older kids. You shouldn't fear the older kids. You should admire them and hope for their guidance and protection. But of course we all knew that the 8th graders were scary and mean so we stayed away from them. I'm sure that's what my baby 7th graders feel too. I like to see them interact when they can.

Another good thing happening (when I'm down I've been writing down the good things and so far they really do outweigh the bad) my kids are starting to talk to me on their own. This only happens rarely (only with Kathrine and a few others who have got up the confidence, mostly the other ones just mob me asking for candy and whatnot.) Yesterday I had this happen in two occurrences. The first was when a little girl named Ling Ling came up to my desk and started talking to me about my Santa hats. I have bought a plethora of Santa hats for a project that I was working on. A project that sort of went awry but here I am with 10 random Santa hats. From there she started talking to me about Christmas and New Years. I was prompting her with simple questions but it's the most I've spoken to her that doesn't involve "GIVE ME SWEETS" all year. I was proud of her. Her English is better than she lets on for a little 7th grader. I talked to her for the whole break period (10 minutes) and then at the bell she ran off waving.

Another hap instance of friendship was brief but whole-hearted. There is another boy in one of my 7th grade classes who has very good English. He always makes little jokes with me and gives me some advice. He's also the one who showed me the class's stock of music videos one day after class. Music fan, no doubt. His name is Jackie and he's a real cute kid, going to definitely break some hearts when he gets past the age of 12. The weird thing is that he always sits in the back. The kids are seated by grades, if you get bad grades you're in the back if you get good grades front. Not how I would do it, but there it is. So I asked him Monday if his English was so good, why is he in the back. He went on to explain that his English is okay but his Chinese is better and his math is terrible. I know the feeling. I asked him what he was best at and he said of course, music. I think by the despcription that I got that he's learning to play the recorder. This is not the cool part. The cool part is that the two days I got tapped on the shoulder while I was walking to lunch. It was him. He's usually really reserved and hangs back. He said hey and we did the simple "how are you and where are you going bit" before he sprinted off in the way of home for lunch. Made me happy. I like the fact that some of them can think of me as more than just their teacher. That's how I would want it to be if I were in America and that's how I want it to be here.


Last thing to report was the event of the last day of the Shenzhen University Sports Festival. David invited me to come watch the closing ceremonies at the stadium (gym). He said there would be "cheer leadering" I had to go. Not only were there girls but boy cheer leaders and boy break dancers as well. Each club had put together their own cheer/pop/hip hop dance. It was fantastic. They danced to several American pop and hip hop songs and at one point I know I heard "Oh Mickey You're So Fine." We watched from our very crowded perch in the standing room only of the bleachers. Every time a club would finish dancing the section that represented them in the bleachers would shout out their class saying or motto. It was intense. Another surprise came when I realized that one of my friends, the boy named Elvis was one of the ones on the floor dancing for the Chem club. I recognized him by his pants (he wears unique pants let's just say). He was the only one I knew on that floor and it was awesome to watch one of my friends dance. As we all know I have a love for boys who dance and here is no exception. We cheered for everyone though, screaming words we didn't understand and all the while it took me back to high school and pep ralleys and school assemblies. I was glad I could be there to experience it.