The BUSD called me to sub for the day, for an English teacher at the high school. YEAH! And I enjoyed it.
Although I babysat more than taught (my big lecture was five minutes on the Iraq War at the start of first hour), most of the students were juniors and seniors who were independently working. No one caused any trouble.
Nona, a large blonde gal in my second-hour art class, stood out as an outgoing but very negative young woman who found nothing nice to say about anyone or anything. "I hate art!" she told me, and never during the 90-minute class got started on her art exercise.
Although I babysat more than taught (my big lecture was five minutes on the Iraq War at the start of first hour), most of the students were juniors and seniors who were independently working. No one caused any trouble.
Nona, a large blonde gal in my second-hour art class, stood out as an outgoing but very negative young woman who found nothing nice to say about anyone or anything. "I hate art!" she told me, and never during the 90-minute class got started on her art exercise.
"We can take these home for homework" she explained.
A group of loquacious students huddled around an elementary school yearbook, describing student and their baby pictures that were next to their school portraits. They were obviously not into their art assignment, either.
"Yeah, that boy...he's so emo!" said one active young man.
I love that retro word, "emo."
Another gal, Nina, was an outgoing, foul-mouthed redhead who showed signs of one day being an ambitious newspaper editor.
"My stepmom just returned from Iraq and quite frankly, I wish she were still there!" she confessed. She doesn't get along with her stepmom. "She bad-mouthes my biological mom for having me when she was 15" she went on, "and she herself had an abortion when she was 15."
I saw young people with pierced lips and dangling, gold necklaces. I saw pink hair, tight clothes and baggy pants but nowhere did I see lavish attire. I smiled at one young couple embraced in a hug and kiss as school let out at 3pm. Memories of my own senior year came back to me.
Some of the kids knew kids in the middle school, and some names looked familiar to me. Bisbee truly is a family community.
Staff was helpful, too. I had NO issues.
"Have you ever taught at the middle school?" asked one of the administrators before I left for the day.
"No."
"Good, next time we'll give you some of the rowdier students!" she added with a smile.
I think I've already been broken into that!
I had an hour to spare before Happy Hour at the Stock Exchange Saloon in Old Bisbee. I drove around Old Bisbee, photographed the hillside homes, photographed those that were on sale. One such house, the Marbel brothel off Brewery Gulch (which was famous for the brothels during Bisbee's haydays of mining), a remodeled 900-square foot home is selling for a gasping $185,000. Not even the purple-and-red facade could convince me to buy something that expensive, right off the road with no yard. But it would be cool to own property in Old Bisbee.
"My stepmom just returned from Iraq and quite frankly, I wish she were still there!" she confessed. She doesn't get along with her stepmom. "She bad-mouthes my biological mom for having me when she was 15" she went on, "and she herself had an abortion when she was 15."
I saw young people with pierced lips and dangling, gold necklaces. I saw pink hair, tight clothes and baggy pants but nowhere did I see lavish attire. I smiled at one young couple embraced in a hug and kiss as school let out at 3pm. Memories of my own senior year came back to me.
Some of the kids knew kids in the middle school, and some names looked familiar to me. Bisbee truly is a family community.
Staff was helpful, too. I had NO issues.
"Have you ever taught at the middle school?" asked one of the administrators before I left for the day.
"No."
"Good, next time we'll give you some of the rowdier students!" she added with a smile.
I think I've already been broken into that!
I had an hour to spare before Happy Hour at the Stock Exchange Saloon in Old Bisbee. I drove around Old Bisbee, photographed the hillside homes, photographed those that were on sale. One such house, the Marbel brothel off Brewery Gulch (which was famous for the brothels during Bisbee's haydays of mining), a remodeled 900-square foot home is selling for a gasping $185,000. Not even the purple-and-red facade could convince me to buy something that expensive, right off the road with no yard. But it would be cool to own property in Old Bisbee.
Most homes in Old Bisbee are renovated wooden structures built over 100 years ago. Most are standing on unstable, rocky hillsides. Many are uninhabitable but still show signs of human living.
Some streets were too hard for my Escape to drive up on; I could smell my brakes burning.
Another home, a larger two-story home near the old Central High School (which is now home to the county education departments) is selling for $155,000. Again the home was nestled in a dead-end street with limited parking.
I saw Obama/Biden signs everywhere and not one McCain/Palin sign.
Leaves in town were starting to change colors. Some of the streets still had chalk marks from last weekend's 5km race.
I walked into the Stock Exchnge Saloon shortly after 4pm, just as Happy Hour began.
This building was built in 1909. The floors are old wooden floors, the ceiling still has wooden art. It's perhaps the last original bar that isn't saturated with obnoxious tourists from the upper Midwest.
To my suprise there were few people there. Mike, a long-haired local, sat at the bar, I sat a few seats from him on the other end. Next to me came Rob a few minutes later, who just happened to be an administrator for the Douglas School district.
So naturally we talked about Arizona standards, local school, and the teacher shortage.
Rob had taught school for ten years before jumping into the administrative part. He supports the new standards for Arizona schools (I do, too) but most of the standards were brought down by the No Child Left Behind Act of 2001, which only punishes schools for having less-than-higlhy-qualifed (HQ) teachers. Until I am fully certified, I am not HQ and a liabilty to any school district. And school districts can't find HQ teachers so they hire what they can on a temporary basis.
"I've met HQ teachers, though, who couldn't teach" he added. I had some of those in my lifetime, too.
"Don't ignore Douglas" he said before I left. "It's a family community and only 20 minutes 'down the hill' from Bisbee" (And Bisbee's 30 minutes from where we live.) "If I could buy a house now I'd live where you live, in the quiet bedroom community." I never saw our neighborhood as such, but Rob is right. Nothing happens where we live because we live in an area where people come home to relax after work.
Another home, a larger two-story home near the old Central High School (which is now home to the county education departments) is selling for $155,000. Again the home was nestled in a dead-end street with limited parking.
I saw Obama/Biden signs everywhere and not one McCain/Palin sign.
Leaves in town were starting to change colors. Some of the streets still had chalk marks from last weekend's 5km race.
I walked into the Stock Exchnge Saloon shortly after 4pm, just as Happy Hour began.
This building was built in 1909. The floors are old wooden floors, the ceiling still has wooden art. It's perhaps the last original bar that isn't saturated with obnoxious tourists from the upper Midwest.
To my suprise there were few people there. Mike, a long-haired local, sat at the bar, I sat a few seats from him on the other end. Next to me came Rob a few minutes later, who just happened to be an administrator for the Douglas School district.
So naturally we talked about Arizona standards, local school, and the teacher shortage.
Rob had taught school for ten years before jumping into the administrative part. He supports the new standards for Arizona schools (I do, too) but most of the standards were brought down by the No Child Left Behind Act of 2001, which only punishes schools for having less-than-higlhy-qualifed (HQ) teachers. Until I am fully certified, I am not HQ and a liabilty to any school district. And school districts can't find HQ teachers so they hire what they can on a temporary basis.
"I've met HQ teachers, though, who couldn't teach" he added. I had some of those in my lifetime, too.
"Don't ignore Douglas" he said before I left. "It's a family community and only 20 minutes 'down the hill' from Bisbee" (And Bisbee's 30 minutes from where we live.) "If I could buy a house now I'd live where you live, in the quiet bedroom community." I never saw our neighborhood as such, but Rob is right. Nothing happens where we live because we live in an area where people come home to relax after work.
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