One of the few small curiosities of the first day back in summer is checking out the names of the new freshmen, and so I look forward to this fresh, new list. Will I know any of these kids? Did I go to high school with any of their parents (a coincidence becoming more and more common with each passing year)? But more importantly, how am I going to be able to put their damn names with their precious, little, barely-adolescent faces?
I admit it. I have a learning disability. I can't for the life of me learn in pictures. I need to read everything I learn. I can memorize vital stats about students as soon as I read their files, but when it comes to memorizing a face, I fall flat on mine. And so each year, I go about the agonizing business of trying to memorize my students' names, faces and stories. I confess, I'm still working on the class of 2010, and 2011 will simply have to wait their turn. I think I have 2009 down, which will definitely help when I start writing letters of recommendation.
The worst part, however, is learning the first names of all the kids who share last names. In my caseload of about 210, I have twenty-four Patels and nine Murphys. And for the record, it's still no easier for me, a Caucasion, to distinguish among white Murphys than among East Asian Patels. To me, they all "all look alike" (except for one of my Murphys, who is, in fact, African-American). It's just as hard to learn who's a Michael or an Amanda or a Billy as it is to learn who's a Zill, a Mitul or a Hemali. (Oh, btw, I once had three Hemali Patels, each in a different grade, and two of the three were one half of a pair of fraternal, or as I like to say, sororital, twins. It was a small mercy that they weren't identical! Are you even following this? Me neither.) In addition, I have students from Uganda, Sri Lanka, Korea and Pakistan, as well as American-born students of Japanese, Chinese, Vietnamese, Greek, Brazilian, African and Italian descent.
For a Boston suburb, we are incredibly diverse. Usually this kind of diversity only exists in cities. I feel very lucky and blessed to get to know children and their parents from all different ethnic, religious and socio-economic backgrounds. In this respect, this is my dream job. In terms of name-memorization, ethnic diversity can actually be helpful, especially when some students are the only members of their ethnic group. For example, "Saikrishna Fifteenletterlastname" is my only student from Sri Lanka, and of course, he has the longest name of any student I've ever had, When I met him as a freshman, I instantly learned who he was and have never forgotten his name or face. (He's not the type to let you forget, either.) I have two girls who wear Muslim hijab; one boy wears a yarmulke. The complexions of the Ugandan kids are generally much darker than those of the African-American kids. The names of these and any kids with distinguishing characteristics, cultural or otherwise, are a piece of cake to memorize. But memorizing the names of the other 185 students is not as easy.
But before I get into my Tips on Pretending to Know Someone's Name, an aside about the Patels. When I first began this job, my then-boss mentioned that he was debating which section of the alphabet I would be assigned. He ultimately gave me the Ms through the Rs, because he wanted me to have all of the Patels. He figured that because I had more admissions experience, I potentially would be able to guide the more high-achieving Patels into competitive colleges. (That the Patels would be more high-achieving and "admissions-focused" than other students was more of a cultural assumption on my boss's part, not necessarily a stereotype. Trust me, I have plenty of Patels who get grades in the C-F range - much to the chagrin of their high-achieving, admissions-focused parents.) The following year, my boss again had to rearrange the counselor assignments, and I had the temerity to insist that I keep the Patels. Not only did I get my wish, but he gave me every new student named Patel, despite the fact that another counselor was to be assigned all new students in general. And so I have, had, and always will have all of the Patels at BHS. I hope to have every Patel to go through our school system for my entire career. After three years, I feel that I have mastered Patels 101 (basic names, faces and yes, genders - Zill is a girl, Mitul, a boy) and am now on to Advanced Patels, i.e. I am starting to learn which Patels are extended family and who is cousin or second-cousin to whom.
But let's get back to memorizing names, because this is something that all teachers have to deal with each year. Each September, our department conducts the very dully-named, Freshman Meetings. Each counselor sends for groups of 6-8 of her first-year students and meets with them informally to talk about study habits, to review to whom they can turn for help in different situations, and brainstorm ideas as to how they might become more engaged in the school community. Last year, I hit upon what I thought was a brilliant solution: I would make each freshman write out her or his name on a name tag and wear it during the meeting. This way, I could read the name as I looked at the face and thus clue myself into who might be who. It didn't really take. There were just too many Patels and Murphys.
Not only was it an unsuccessful experiment, I lived in constant fear that some poor, dumb kid would forget to take off his name tag, go back to class, get teased, then "illegally" call his mother from the restroom. She would in turn call me screaming that I had caused her son undue stress and trauma and how DARE I make students wear name tags and then not remind them to remove them upon leaving the room? Note: nothing like this has ever remotely happened to me but you hear stories. (Parents Who Drive Me Crazy is another topic for another blog.)
Regardless of my attempts to learn names, there are several methods from the educator's bag of tricks that one can employ to "c.y.a." when you're talking to a student whose name you should know but don't. The first is to ask the student to write out his or her own pass and you will sign it. Another is to sneak onto the computer and try to look up the student's picture or schedule based on key points he or she might let slip: the name of the teacher he's complaining about, a mention of a sibling, etc. Another is to tell him or her you have to excuse yourself to check to see if the printer's working/if someone is waiting/if a computer program is up... and then hurriedly ask another counselor or secretary to come in with a stupid excuse to ask the student his or her name. "Excuse, me, Ms. Diozzi, but a teacher just called looking for a student. Is this student him? Honey, what's your name?" I've only had to pull that one once in my career, thank God, with the help of our ace secretary, Carla. It was a successful ploy, but it involved way too much improvisation.
In the worst case scenario, I simply say to a student, "What's your last name again?" And if the student's a Patel, I just say, "I know you're a Patel, but what's your first name again?" Ultimately, the best piece of advice is to simply put your ego aside and remember the first rule of working with teenagers: just be honest with them. And try to make them laugh. It works with Murphys and Patels, and everyone in between.
Lemon and Thyme Roast Chicken (Julia Child)
God bless Julia Child; this recipe rocks! And it's so easy it's almost stupid. I chose it because a recipe for roast chicken honors Irish Murphys, and it's easy enough that even my late, culinarily-challenged, Irish grandmother could have made it. Unfortunately I do not yet possess any Indian food recipes with which to pay tribute to the Patels, but I'm working on it.
One whole chicken (5-7 lb. Perdue Oven Stuffer Roaster w/built-in timer for beginners)
2 lemons
2 yellow onions
Butter
1-2 T Thyme (dried is fine)
Something to truss the chicken (either twine or skewers)
Rinse chicken and remove plastic pack from inside. Do not remove the skin.
Place the chicken in a shallow roasting pan. Cut the lemons into halves or thirds and squeeze a little juice onto the chicken. Cut the onions into halves or thirds and, alternating lemon with onion, stick as many pieces as will fit into the chicken. Place remaining pieces in the pan.
Tie the legs together with twine to keep lemon and onions from falling out. You can also pull the legs toward each other and use dampened wood or metal kebab skewers to keep the legs shut. (I came up with this idea one time when the chicken was all stuffed and I realized I had no twine!)
Rub butter all over chicken, including under skin. Sprinkle generously with the dried thyme and evenly distribute it over the chicken, including under legs and wings. (This is a messy process but worth it!)
Cook chicken according to instructions on package, approx. 1.5 hours at 350-400 degrees.
Tips: covering the chicken with tin foil will make it cook faster, but make sure toward the end that it's uncovered so it will brown and crisp. Periodically baste the chicken (a large spoon will work if you don't have a baster) if cooking it uncovered.
No comments:
Post a Comment