Closed Captioning the world

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Having a hearing impairment means that I’ve gotten to know closed captioning rather well. I also know that closed captioning isn’t always accurate.

In the report of three airplanes in a near collision, I read “gnarly hit” instead of “nearly”. That would be a gnarly situation, all right.

From an interviewer to the subject: “I have a cupful of things to ask when we get back from this break.” Cupful? Couple. Or was this a take-off on the saying a thimble-full?

Oh, dear, this one is rated R. Alert! The anchor said something about a celebrity getting “…her piece of the pie.” The captioner, unfortunately, translated the phrase into the celebrity getting “…herpes…” Oops. Major oops.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, working quietly in my new cubicle, I kept thinking I heard my cell phone ringing. I keep my phone in my purse in a locked drawer, so it’s unlikely I’d hear it, really. But I’d hear that buzz and think, “Did I turn off the ringer and not the phone? Maybe it’s a fire drill. No, no one else is moving. We can’t be in a drill.” Was it the printer/copier? No, that was still a fairly quite machine. The solution to the mystery was on a table next to the copier/printer. The fax machine is closer to my cubicle than to the one that sheltered me last year – just close enough that I catch a hint of it beeping,buzzing, and then chugging away.

Even as the secretary was grumbling about the overwhelming number of faxes we were getting, I was laughing because I actually noticed. She couldn’t resist; she joined in and laughed, too. My world is a hearing world, and I’ve learned to face that world with an open mind and a sense of humor.

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On a lovely autumn Saturday —

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1. Go to market, to market, to buy apples if they’re available. Applesauce stock in the basement is already dwindling. I take that as a sign that it’s good and I should make more.

To Market, To Market! update

2. City Slipper invited bloggers to post what they’re eating from their gardens. Here? Tomatoes, tomatoes, and more tomatoes. Last night’s variation: BLTs. Butternut squash call my name today – or maybe salad with cherry tomatoes.

tomatoes, tomahtoes – and Chuck wanted a zippy pepper

3. Eating the opponent returns! Last week we had Chicago style pizza with a sauce made from garden tomatoes. This week the Packers play Seattle. I sense Starbucks coffee in my future.

How about you, readers? I’ll add updates as the weekend goes on.

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Mitt, Mitt, Mitt.

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Dear Mitt;

May I call you Mitt? After all, you’re not really earning my respect these days. The first name will have to do.

Microphones off or on, Mitt, you must think about what you say. Or maybe, just maybe, you really did think about that statement. That’s what scares me. It was, after all, full of your favorite terms. It had a number – a percent, no less! It described a segment of the population that you see as beneath you, which showed clearly in your choice of words. Let’s see.

-dependent on government 

Mitt, I work in the public sector. Does that make me dependent on government? My children attended public schools, and my daughter attended a state university. If that makes us dependent on government, then I guess we fit the profile. By the way, your perception of middle income? Way, way high. We ordinary public school teachers don’t even dream of reaching your estimate of $250,000.

-think they are victims

No, Mitt, I’m not a victim. I’ve been through a lot in the recent past, including a long (unpaid) medical leave from my job (see above). I’m a disabled adult and I wear two hearing aids, but I’m not a victim, Mitt. I’m a survivor. .

-entitled to health care

Health care, Mitt, is a right, not a privilege. Here’s where we differ. No one should have to wait seven months to see a specialist. No one should have to turn down a necessary prescription because it’s a Tier 3 and the co-pay is too high. No one should have to turn down medicine in order to buy food. Which brings me to —

-entitled to food

What exactly are you saying? That people should starve? Have you ever watched a child wolf down his school-funded breakfast on Monday morning because he hasn’t eaten all weekend? No, I didn’t think so. Or – maybe you did mean that hunger doesn’t exist, much less actually matter. (Uh, Mitt? That “Let them eat cake” quote wasn’t really Marie, but she lost her head over it. America still has peasants who have no bread, make no doubt about it.)

-entitled to housing

Once again – are you saying that a home is optional? Home doesn’t have to be fancy. An apartment, a room in a shelter, space in a relative’s basement – housing takes many forms, as does homelessness. Mitt, I’ve seen it firsthand. Have you? Frankly, having a roof over one’s head is not optional.

“My job is not to worry about those people.”

Really? If you don’t worry about them, who will? We public school teachers (you know, the ones that Scottie-in-Madison calls Thugs) worry about our students. We worry about their families, and we worry about the village that raises them. It’s a village where we worry about each other, and then we take action. If you’re not worrying, I’m sure you’ll take no actions that might make a difference to anyone on your list. A list, by the way, that includes nearly half of the voters in the United States.

No wonder those voters stick with Barack Obama. It’s not because we’re entitled, but because President Obama has earned our respect. And that, Mitt, makes him entitled to another four years in office.

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Would you do it for free?

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Our union building rep (BR) brought us reports and advice for dealing with our new not-a-contract Handbook. One piece of advice: do not, under any circumstances, use our own personal funds to buy supplies. If we even need something as small as a pencil, we are not to bring it from home or buy it ourselves.

So today I sent myself an email. Of course I send myself emails; doesn’t everybody? I send notes from work to home to remind me to do or bring something the next day. Those emails usually look like this:

to: Me, of course
subject: BRING (in all caps, of course, so I don’t delete it)
And then the message arrives, looking more like a shopping list than a memo. Today I sent home a note that said “BRING — binder, small to medium.” 

And then I remembered. We are to bring no supplies from our own homes, buy nothing with our own money. Pencils? No problem; we have boxes of nice pencils sporting our school logo. Pens? Virtual teachers travel fairly often for standardized testing and field trips, so most of us have a collection of (oh, readers, I hear you laughing; you’re way ahead of me) hotel pens and scratch pads. Binders? I keep a box at home because Amigo uses a lot of binders for his Braille papers. Many are repurposed from Chuck’s workplace. I almost never pay money for a binder. They’re too easy to scavenge for free.

Where does this put me? I didn’t know. I probably didn’t pay any of my precious pennies for this binder, but it’s mine. All. Mine. And Amigo’s, too, if I’m totally honest. 

It’s like getting stuck between a rock and a hard place. If I BYOB (Bring My Own Binder), I send the message that it’s okay, I’ll handle this. Don’t spend the school district’s money on necessary supplies. I’ll supply the cash.

Now take the BYOB dilemma up to a higher level. It’s the guilt trip I’ve been hearing from top brass in Chicago, but it’s a guilt trip I’ve heard from fellow teachers at times, too.

“What’s best for kids?” is the question. “Do what’s right for kids,” is the answer, too. The unsaid piece, though, is this: How far will teachers go? How much will educators do without recognition, without compensation, without pay?

Some take it as a point of pride when they “ignore the contract” to organize and put on an evening event at school. Staffers who choose not to attend can be shunned at school based on the implication that they “don’t care enough.” In other settings, coming to school to work on a weekend can be a conflicting act. If a family drives by school on a dreary weekend and sees my classroom light on, they see me working overtime – for free.

And that, my friends and colleagues, is where the conflict begins. How much will teachers do for free? Is a teacher’s skill and expertise and experience worth $0 per hour? How long and how far do we go before we collapse and say, “NO MORE!” . How long can quality education last under circumstances in which the experienced and educated professionals are told, not asked, that they are worth nothing?

Chicago teachers, you have my support. Don’t ever let the big kahunas tell you that it’s “good for kids” when their teachers work for nothing.

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Uncertainty and cautious optimism in Wisconsin

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A Circuit Court Judge in Dane County, Wisconsin, has ruled Act 10 null and void. Act 10 is Scott Walker’s baby. It’s the collective bargain law, the one that makes public employees feel like public enemies. It’s the law that caused several Democratic senators to flee the state to prevent a quorum, hoping to delay bringing the piece of legislation to a vote at all. It’s the one that inspired thousands, not hundreds, of  protesters to crowd the Capitol with their bodies, their voices, their drums, and their banners. And now, a judge has ruled that this law violates both the Wisconsin Constitution and the Constitution of the United States.

We’re wary. We’re not celebrating yet. It’s not quite final.

We teachers feel vindicated, but only a little. Those other public employees are looking rather tentative, too.

No one is planning a party, so hold onto your red Solo cups. There’s so much pain and bitterness involved that a blowout demonstration just doesn’t seem right.

After the most recent union meeting, our building rep brought back news of wildly inconsistent interpretation of the new handbook that replaced our contract. She also advised us not to spend our own money on anything – not even a pencil.

Walker and his clones, er, cronies plan to appeal. If it ever makes it to the state Supreme Court, we predict this badly conceived and poorly written law will be upheld because the Tea Party types hold a majority. Then again, the Supreme Court isn’t without its own drama. I’m sure they get choked up just thinking about it. Not.

Now what? Readers, I’ll let you know. I’m not spending any extra money, though. I’ll just keep teaching, teaching, teaching.

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Welcome to cubicle land!

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As the school year begins, as our cruise ship for the pathways of learning pulls away from shore — oh, that was awful. Boats don’t travel on pathways. Canals, maybe. I’ll start over.

The first task for teachers at my virtual school is the Welcome Call. We call each and every family on our roster and talk to the student(s) and the learning coach, usually a parent. These calls can take anywhere from fifteen minutes to thirty minutes to over an hour. The calls are well worth the time.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, in the cubicle known as the O.K. Hardware, these calls sound different. My cubicle is in the middle of the action. I hear snippets of phrases, sometimes full sentences, but they’re all out of context. Put together, they create a whole new conversation – or no conversation at all.

Captured Talk on a Welcome Topic

Yeah, yeah, I think so.

It’s confusing.

You have how many cavities?

Call me back at…..

Do you have other animals at home?

I have a garden, too.

Don’t try that without asking your parents.

Well, the City Council said…

And that’s something else.

How are you doing? How are you? How. Are. You?

–no, this last one wasn’t me.

I think I like this new cubicle. At the very least, it’s entertaining.

 

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Trouble in the Windy City

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Trouble. We’ve got trouble with a capital T and that stands for Teachers.

With apologies to the Music Man, Rahm Emanuel might be singing this tune. Mr. Mayor has a problem. Chicago teachers said “We’ve had enough!” and walked out on strike. 26,000 teachers. Countless students. Parents scrambling for child care. Police officers on duty to monitor picket lines and wayward students.

I won’t get into the nitty gritty of the issues except one: the use of standardized test scores to evaluate teachers. Regular readers know how I feel about that item. In fact, I’m going to hold my test-fail examples for another post to really do them justice.

The part of this story that hurts the most, the statement that cuts right to the heart, is Rahm’s statement that “…our kids do not deserve this.” If he intended to spark a guilt trip, it almost worked. This was a low, low blow.

Teachers in Chicago and elsewhere have put children first again and again and again. Have you heard of teachers buying classroom supplies with their own money? Teachers coming in early and staying late? Bringing work home? Grading tests on weekends? Attending meetings without pay? Walking a child to their waiting parents so the hallway bullies won’t act? Making sure their students get fed, even if it means buying snacks out of their own wallets? Teachers want the best for children.Teachers want to do the best job they can because (guess what) the students deserve a good education. 

For teachers to walk off the job, to stop teaching, means a lot more than a contract dispute. It means that these teachers have lost their trust in the system, a system that is supposed to support them as they educate tomorrow’s workforce.

Rahm, er, Mr. Emanuel, needs to cut the guilt trip. The teachers in Chicago have worked harder and harder, achieved more with less, over and over. They are beyond the point of feeling like they’re leaving students in the lurch. Teachers were hung out to dry a long time ago, and their declining working conditions had a direct impact on the students.

Most teachers agree that students do not deserve the effects of a strike. Teachers are not in the profession for the income; they’re in it for the outcome. A strike is a last resort.

Maybe my opening lyric today would be more effective as “Trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with D and that stands for Disrespect.” The syllabication is all wrong, but the meaning rings true.

Chicago teachers have the emotional support of millions of educators across the nation. Once in a while drastic measures are necessary. This is one of those times.

 

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Famous Last Words

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Famous Last Words: “I’ll plant all the seeds. They’re old seeds, probably only a few will come up.”  Actual result: the tomato jungle, home to more than 50 plants.

Famous Last Words: “It’s a good time to travel. I’ll be back in time for most of the Packers-49ers game. I can listen to the beginning on the radio.”  Um, AM radio. See below. Not so easy.

Famous Last Words: “I don’t need directions. I’ll use my GPS.” Actual result: I forgot I was going to be in Stevens Point, central Wisconsin, the Black Hole of all things electronic. Smart phones, GPS Navigators, whatever, data connectivity is next to nil in this area. How do the UWSP students survive?

I did manage to get where I was going with a combination of gut feelings, a slight knowledge of the town, a stop at a gas station, and a quick call to Chuck who pulled up MapQuest and confirmed what I’d heard from the gas station guy. I’d actually passed the place twice. It wasn’t well marked.

The irony here is that I was headed to the Democratic Party’s HQ to pick up yard signs destined for our local office. The Portage County Democrats’ office has a good location, but poor signage. Maybe they should have kept one sign instead of sending them all with me.

After I finished my errand (road trip), delivered the signs to the local office, and then headed for home, I watched my Packers start the season poorly. Sigh. Aaron Rodgers just wasn’t in his prime form for this game. I didn’t need to rush home after all.

So after the game, I spent some time tearing up another dish towel to make more tie-ups for the tomatoes. See above: I ran out and needed more to hold up the volunteer tomato plants. Like I needed any more tomato plants this year – I’ll nurture them anyway.

P.S. Eating the Opponent: San Francisco included swordfish steaks, California oranges, and a seafood dish with rice that Chuck assures me is authentic to the area.

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Random Math – Prime examples of real life applications

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“Mom, stop being a teacher!” is one of Amigo’s favorite taunts. He uses it when I’m, well, trying to teach him something he can use in real life. Some of these skills might come in handy. I swear it.

Today’s topic: Math. Math skills in the big bad world outside of a classroom. I encountered three examples recently that were all money skills: adding up a total, making change, calculating a tip, and figuring out a unit rate. Oops, that’s four. Sorry.

At the farmers’ market, the young woman was a little frazzled from the busy sales on this nice warm day. I needed two pounds of sugar snap peas and two pounds of green beans. She weighed out the vegetables, and then she stopped. “How much? Um, wait a minute.” She reached for a pocket calculator. “2 times $2.75 for the peas, $5. 50. 2 times $3.50 for the beans, $7.” Then she needed a total. “$5.50 plus $7 is $12.50. Right?” She looked to me for confirmation. I nodded and handed her a $20 bill.

Now in a classroom, I’d have the students count up first. $12.50 plus 50 cents is $13. $13 plus two is $15, and five more make $20. They would then hand the customer a five, a one, and two quarters or some other variation of $7,50. But I made it harder – or easier – by handing her a $20 bill and two quarters. Oh, no! I changed the problem! The buzzing and busy young woman figured it out by using her calculator, and I smiled as I double checked my change.

Class, I mean readers, we’re at two skills now: total and change, involving multiplying, adding, and subtracting.  Be it farmers’ market, garage sale, or lemonade stand, these are necessary skills. Put them in your business plan.

Tips. Folks, I’ve been a waitress. I wasn’t a very good one. I appreciate a server’s hard work, and I tend to tip high rather than low. Here’s an easy way to figure out a standard 15% tip. When your calculations are done, I recommend you round up. Your server most likely earned it.

  • Step one: look at the bill’s total.
  • Step two: multiply by 10% by moving the decimal point one place to the left. For example, 10% of a $30 check is $3.
  • Step three: find half of the ten percent quantity. Using the above example, half of $3 is $1.50.
  • Step four: Add ten plus five percent to find fifteen percent. $3 + $1.50 = $4.50.
  • Step five; If you’re like me, and I hope you are, round up. A $5 is appropriate in this instance.

Did we have one more math application? Oh, unit rate. Unit rate is a ratio expressed as a comparison of two unlike quantities. Huh? Think miles per gallon, ounces per price, pounds per unit price. The goal is to find out how much relates to one, and then compare to find the better deal. Some grocery stores do this for you on the shelf tags. Read them. The bigger sign isn’t always the better deal.

The best deal is recognizing a deal when you see it. Whether it’s shoes (20% off the clearance price for my new black Mary Janes) or produce, math is a real-life skill. Now I’m going to go measure tomatoes for salsa. Oh – measurement and proportion! Here we go again!

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Tonight, tonight – let’s make history at the DNC

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Remember four years ago? The election of 2008? Barack Obama became the first African-American to be elected president of the United States. I had a major lump in my throat that night and in January when he was inaugurated.

Since then, President Obama has had major challenges: some ridiculous (let go of the birther garbage already!) and some very serious. He has approached them all with class and intelligence.

Listing his accomplishments would be too easy. Instead, on the day of his acceptance speech at the 2012 Democratic National Convention, I give you samples from Compost Happens to chronicle a few choice moments in the last several years.

President Obama’s first State of the Union Address – the ending statement calling for unity and cooperation is still valid today.

My professional reaction to changes in stimulus money for schools based on their success as measured in test scores – this concern is still relevant as well.

I reviewed a young readers’ book about Obama’s historic journey to the presidency.

Another review, this time of my favorite coffee blend.

‘Tis the season to campaign! 

Thoughts on Joe Biden and – get ready for it – Sarah Palin

Need more reading to fill the time until President Obama starts his speech? Use the search box above and enter the term “Obama.” You’ll find all sorts of posts that cover the journey from candidate to president-elect and finally, President Obama.

President Obama. I still love hearing that phrase.

 

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