The Blood Test

From the wrist.

They took the blood from my freaking WRIST.

Courage

I think I've mentioned before that I have an intense fascination with World War II in general and the Holocaust in particular.

There are a few reasons for that.

One, I think, is morbid curiosity -- the feeling that if you watch one more special, read one more book, think just a little more psychologically, it'll actually make sense.  Of course, it never will.  You can rationalize it with the Treaty of Versailles, with the extreme depression in Germany -- it's common for people to point out it took a wheelbarrow full of money to buy a loaf of bred.  Germans were a beaten-down people who were desperate to...yadda yadda yadda.

But 11 million people died...nothing could ever make that make sense.

Another is, more than likely, the fact that so many of my family members would have been among Hitler's victims.  It's not fair, really, to the victims of the Holocaust (of all persuasions) to say that it is of more interest because it's personal, but I think sometimes that the enormity of the whole thing is so incomprehensible (how do you conceive of 11 million people in any kind of concrete way?) that it's human nature to personalize it.

There's something haunting about the Holocaust -- a surreality to it that just never goes away.  Very little on TV has affected my like the dedication at the end of an episode of The Outer Limits:  "Dedicated to my father, who survived Auschwitz, and to his wife and son who did not."  The show was about time travel and sci-fi stuff, yes, but it was also about how the Holocaust continued to affect the main character's father -- and himself, born to the father's second wife in America.  I gather from Sam Egan's dedication that the character was at least partly autobiographical.

And then there's the stories themselves.  Sure, everyone has read The Diary of Anne Frank -- but I've always been fascinated by the story of Miep Gies, who -- along with her husband -- risked so much to try to save the Frank family.

Everybody has probably heard the cliche: all that is needed for evil to succeed is for good men to do nothing.

During the Holocaust, doing something could very well be fatal, and yet, there are many, many stories of heroes who risked everything to save who they could.

It was terribly dangerous, of course -- opposing a police state nearly always is.  But some people found the courage to do something, and it always makes me wonder: in that situation, would I have had the same courage?

I don't think anyone can truly answer that question until they are faced with the circumstance, for what it's worth.

A hero died today.

The only thing I can think of to say is, it makes me think of the end of Schindler's List, where the people Schindler saved (and their descendants) pass by and put stones on his grave -- she is responsible for saving the lives not only of the actual people she saved, but for all the generations that would come after.

TMI

Dear reproductive system,

Really?

I mean...really?

First, you run a week and a half late and yet now you're right smack dab to-the-hour on time?

Two and a half weeks, reproductive system.  I want more than two and a half weeks.

No love,

Me

Closer and Closer

A couple of weeks ago, I got dreadfully behind.  I was spending most weekends trying to catch up on enough work just to get the kids through next week.  I'm not complaining, really -- I'm proud that I offer my students age-appropriate and yet functional activities.  It just takes a lot of work to get there.

Each week, it's been something.  First, it was being sick.  Then, it was finding out about New Boy B (who's been at school once since last Wednesday).  Then, it was...I don't remember what it was last week.

This week, it was the training Primary Teacher M and I went to on Wednesday.  Mileage-wise, it's about an hour a day.  But rush hour on the 210 was not something I wanted to contemplate, so I stayed at a hotel in the area.

Which, of course, effectively knocked out one night of work.

Then, when the conference (at the hotel near the Pomona Fairplex) was over, I chatted with Teacher M a while about what I'd learned about creating visual schedules for students with autism at another training.

I'd already had vague notions of zipping down the 57 to go to Sonic for a slush, and at one point thought that having dinner by myself at Disneyland might be fun -- 'cause, you know, what kind of crowds could there be on a Wednesday afternoon?

Anyway, I'm driving down the 10 when I see the outbound traffic from either the 210 or the 57.  Yeesh.  Off to Anaheim I went.

Only to be presented with a parking structure that was 5 out of 6 floors full.  On a freaking Wednesday afternoon.

Okay, I think, more and more people have annual passes...who knows?

The number of school-aged kids in the park was staggering.  What was even more so was the number of people I heard marvelling over random things like they'd never been there before.  What the heck?

Anyway, I got a lot done -- rode Soarin', then went to Taste Pilots Grill for dinner (I wanted ribs, which I never order when I'm wish someone 'cause they're kinda expensive, but they were out), then caught some of the new Pixar Play Parade.  So I headed over to Disneyland, where I rode Buzz, Space Mountain, Big Thunder Mountain, saw the Tiki Room, and did Pirates.

Plus, waited in a godawful slow line for a Dole Whip Float only to have the Tiki Room start and have to get out of line with ONE PERSON IN FRONT OF ME (Patrick never wants to see the Tiki Room, and I figured since I was by myself....).  So afterwards, I got a churro and sat on the drawbridge for the castle for a fairly nice, though somewhat tree-obstructed, view of the Parade of Dreams.

My thinking, of course, was: if I'm not going to get home until 8:00 anyway 'cause I'll be sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic, why not go do something fun for a few hours, and get home at 9:00?

But of course, I got nothing done that night.

To be fair, while I was at the hotel, I got the following accomplished:

*  News-2-You for next week

*  Page 1 of journals (today is, yesterday was, etc.)

*  Name/signature practice for journals (2 days a week)

*  Math pages for journals (2 days a week)

So the fact that I got everything else done tonight but homework and vocabulary practice for journals for next week is good, right?

Ewwww

Okay, so, I know that actors do not equal characters.  Really, I do.

But it's still squicky to be flipping channels (all 7 of 'em here at the hotel I'm staying at to go to a training tomorrow) and see someone who is firmly entrenched in my mind as M's mom, in the middle of a sex scene.

And He's a Better Writer, Too!

A while back, I tried to explain why I had misgivings about the J.J. Abrams Star Trek movie.

Wil Wheaton -- yes, Wesley Crusher -- just explained it so much better than me.

I Have No Words

Seriously.  No words.

(Well, I suppose, "To each his own," but...yeah....)

Grammarian

I can once again claim my grammar nerd status by saying I got 'em all right.

Should I be scared?

Save Those Wrists

About a month in, Data and I are getting along perfectly, and, for the most part, Lore has been behaving himself.

However, I have been having trouble with my wrists using the bundled keyboard that came with Data.  I have been typing on a Microsoft Natural keyboard for years, after I started having tell-tale wrist pains -- in high school.  Being a touch-typist, the split design was never a problem for me, and it dramatically increased the amount of time I could type before fatigue and/or pain started in.

I have been eyeing the Kinesis keyboard for about the last nine months, as even typing on the MS Natural started to hurt, as the next step up from the MS Natural keyboard, figuring that if a $100 keyboard kept me away from the carpal tunnel doctors for 15 years or so, then hopefully a $300 keyboard would do the same.

(The step up from that would be the Maltron, which is even more, and approaches the price point of, "Oh, forget it, just go see the scary carpal tunnel doctor."  Unless my chicken tendencies kicked in and went for the -- apparently at least temporarily out of business -- DataHand keyboard.)

Anyhow, the problem is that I actually like typing on the Apple keyboard.  Many don't.  Many panned its design when it was essentially introduced on the MacBook.  Having played around with a MacBook and tried typing on it, I agree -- it's not comfortable on a laptop.  But as a desktop keyboard, I've really liked it -- the tactile feedback of the keys is very nice, and I like the clicking.  Call me old school.

But my wrist...my poor wrists....  While working to get Data set up the way I wanted, I even had to start wearing a wrist brace again, it hurt so much.

So I had a dilemma.  I have this keyboard that I really genuinely like -- and, what's more, doesn't take up two-thirds of my desk.

But as all this is going on, I began to notice something -- even moreso than when I was typing, it hurt to use the mouse.  I mean, as in, I probably could have shown you exactly which nerves attached to which muscles on the back of my arm.

So I did some research, and it turns out that for many, the mouse is a bigger problem than the keyboard, because not only are you turning your hand in an unnatural way, you're moving it around and such.

With some trepidation, then, I decided to take an $80 gamble that may save me $300 on the Kinesis keyboard (or, at the very least, postpone the leap for a while).  I found the Evoluent Vertical Mouse while browsing, ironically enough, the Kinesis website, and the documentation on their own website about the problems with mouse usage seemed somewhat convincing.

So far, I can say that, while it looks...well...weird, it is very comfortable.  It's taken some training to use the middle finger (there are three buttons on one side) to right click and to remember that the pinkie button is the switch-applications button (equivalent to Alt-Tab on a Windows computer) but that makes sense because the muscles in the pinkie are weaker and you'd use that one less.

My only problem is that the tracking speed is way, way too fast for my poor eye-hand coordination.  I have it set to the slowest it can go, and I still seem to have to expend additional mental effort to get the mouse where I want it to be.

Will this save my wrists?  I doubt it -- but like my original investment in the MS Natural keyboard, hopefully it'll delay more expensive dilemmas.

The Shocker of the Century

This is a can of peanuts. Apparently, it contains peanuts.

Good Versus BADD

I missed "Blogging Against Disablism" Day last year, but here goes...

I kept going back and forth as to whether this would be a "sister" post or a "teacher" post, and it's kind of become both.  It's also something I've briefly ranted about before, so pardon that.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was the first or second assembly of the year, during my second year of teaching.  I had a student who could be severely self-injurious (he would hit his head and chin until he bled), but he would be much less likely to injure himself if he had a string of beads to fidget with.

So, I take my motley crew to the assembly.  This particular student squeaked a few times and flicked his beads.  Scissor Girl probably vocalized some.  I wouldn't be surprised if Millionare Boy (the Who Wants to be a Millionaire fan) hadn't, at the least, laughed loudly at the wrong time once or twice.

Meanwhile, the two fourth grade classes (one of whom would become Sixth Grade Teacher JT's nightmare class of last year) were chattering with each other and needing redirections.  Ditto the fifth and sixth graders.

Who knows what the assembly was about?

That has been erased from my mind by what happened next:  Former Principal SW and Sixth Grade Teacher JT both approached me about the student and his beads, saying that they were disruptive and that maybe he shouldn't go to assemblies anymore.

His beads.  His string of costume jewelry beads.

The other kids were loud.

The other kids needed to be shushed.

The other kids were inattentive and difficult.

S did not hit himself.  S did not start crying/moaning as he would do during a panic attack.

S held a string of freaking beads and flicked them up by his right eye.

There's this ridiculous, horrible double standard when it comes to kids with disabilities.  If other kids misbehave at an assembly, they get a talking to -- perhaps even detention or something -- but no one says, "Well, no more assemblies for you."

And yet, if a child with autism, severe developmental disabilities, and an anxiety disorder WHO WOULD HAVE OTHERWISE BEEN BUSY GIVING HIMSELF A CONCUSSION flicks some beads to calm himself, he shouldn't come to assemblies anymore.

It's ridiculous and it's unfair.

And it points to something even more fundamental: people with disabilities are still expected to earn the right to be with others.  S had to earn the right to be at an assembly, and the only way he could do that was to sit at the assembly without any support or accommodations.

The thing is, S had the right to attend the assemblies.  S had the right to sit there with his beads and flick them to his heart's content (to be fair, in the interests of full disclosure, if he'd have had a panic attack, I'd have escorted him outside because that would have been too loud -- and, more to the point, his anxiety would have just increased until he was somewhere with less stimulation).

Let me say that again:  S had the right to be there at that assembly, even if he needed a 99% inconspicuous comfort object to maintain his composure during the assembly.  Would I have let him take something truly loud?  No, but that's my job as a teacher -- to find ways to help him cope that are as quiet and inconspicuous as possible.

For the record, our new principal, Principal SDF, has commented on how much she likes the fidgets bag I bring to assemblies.  And, yes, sometimes someone will put one of our vibrating thingies on the floor and make a little noise (at that point, it's replaced with a different fidget), but no one says anything about it.

But this is an attitude that is still way too prevalent.  It's not expected that kids (or adults) with disabilities are entitled to experiences like that.  It's still something they have to earn -- something others are given as a matter of course.

Disability is often an "accident of birth" -- and as Americans, we should be beyond assigning social categories because of accidents of birth.

See y'all at the next assembly.

Remakes, Reboots, and Re-Imaginings, Oh My!

I wasn't going to watch Battlestar Galactica (the miniseries) when it first aired.  I had a nostalgic affection for the original (not the abysmal Galactica 1980, mind) and it seemed...wrong...to take it in a new direction.

I remember all the hullabaloo -- OMG!  Starbuck is a girl!  OMG!  Apollo isn't really his name!  OMG!  Tigh isn't black!  And so on and so forth.  Original series star Richard Hatch was adamantly opposed to it (likely due in large measure to him working on a continuation/sequel of his own).

Eventually, I decided to TiVo it and see what I thought.

And, of course, was riveted, from the very beginning when Six walks into the space station with the poor ol' Colonial guy and asks him if he's alive, with the red strobe lights of the Centurions looking on.

But, you know, whether it's because of Ron Moore at the helm (I don't think it's a coincidence that Deep Space Nine was my favorite Star Trek series and the one that he co-executive produced), the cast (Edward James Olmos is awesome, as is -- especially in the first season's "Act of Contrition" -- Katee Sackhoff), the writing, the camera work, the additional drama of the human-form Cylons hiding amidst the fleet (witness the early destruction of that ship)...I don't know.

For every BSG, though, there's a Bionic Woman, Knight Rider...I could go on.

I don't know if it's because BSG dared to veer so far from the original canon (though the only thing Bionic Woman shared with the original, from the one episode I saw, was a lead character named Jaime Summers who was hurt in an accident and whose boyfriend talked people into bionicifying her) -- which allowed it to tell its own story -- or that it retained enough of the original to be interesting, or just that the stories it tells are so human- and character-driven that they can be in a similar universe and exploring totally different territory.

I am very, very, very leery of the forthcoming Star Trek movie, for a variety of reasons.

1.  It'd be Star Trek 11.  An odd number.

2.  The people involved in Enterprise did not give me much faith in the current crop of Star Trek's folks to do a prequel well (I mean, bumpy-headed Klingons?  C'mon.), at least until the fourth season when the Reeves-Stevenses came on board to help out.

(Ironically, I've never much liked their Trek novels.)

3.  No one -- and I mean no one -- will ever, ever be able to play Spock like Leonard Nimoy.

4.  (Not to mention, the current crop of Trek writers don't write Vulcans well at all -- at least, not in the form of Tuvok or T'Pol.)

5.  Seeing Eomer (actually, I never got past "Caesar, Julius Caesar") on the Enterprise is just....weird.

I might see it in theaters; I might not. But I'm not at all convinced this will be the second coming of The Wrath of Khan.

So, now, I read that Ike Eisenmann and Kim Richards are going to have cameos in the re-imagining (reboot?  remake?) of Escape to Witch Mountain (one of my favorite movies as a child).

Most people don't remember this, but they already tried this once, in 1995, with a TV movie called (get this) Escape to Witch Mountain.

Now, neither movie bears much resemblance to the eponymous book (gee, a Disney movie stretched the canon it was based on...I'm shocked....) but the latter was....  Hm....  Let's just say...it was weird.

(Seriously.  Purple glowing crystals weird.)

Disney has a history of cameos like this.  In Lindsay Lohan's The Parent Trap, the girls' dad's fiancee's mother is played by the fiance in the original (along with borrowing the simpering, "Hello, Pet" from the original soon-to-be-step-grandmother).

And it might suggest that the remake is...semi-decent -- but, of course, the actors haven't exactly worked a lot, and you wonder if it's just about a job.

After all, Leonard Nimoy is in Star Trek, and I'm still iffy about that.

I don't want to sound like a fandom snob -- really, I don't.  I don't want to be one of those people who gets it in their head that things should be a certain way ("I'll boycott Babylon 5 if they don't get Claudia Christian back!" or "I'll never watch Stargate if Daniel Shanks isn't in it!").

Really, I don't.

But, I do wonder this:  why remake stuff?  Why not, in Star Trek's case, introduce another ship, another bad guy, something?  If you want it to be more mainstream, isn't that a good way to do it?

Or, in Witch Mountain's case, why not skip forward a few generations, or tell the story of the original exodus from their planet?  Something?

BSG proved it can be done well -- but BSG is a good show, whether or not it draws on the original's canon.

I dunno.

(This post was sparked by reading about the Witch Mountain thing, but I've been wanting to talk about the whole re-imagining thing for a while.)

In school news, I am so not popular again, for daring to suggest that maybe leaning on top of Bulldozer and moving his foot might have been why Aide J got hit.  ("But I was just moving The Boss's chair," she said.  Uh...yeah...from on top of Bulldozer.)

Also, New Boy started today.  And you thought The Boss was stubborn....

And So It Begins

So, I gave the first kids the CAPA today.

I started with Angel, 'cause oh-my-frelling-God is it hard, and she was my best shot at the "she got it right!" fuzzies.

Don't believe me?  Check out the level 3 and 4 sample tasks, and remember that this test is for kids on a functional skills curriculum.  Our language arts program would be happy if they learned to read fifteen words in a year...and that's the top level of participation -- others are considered successful if they can copy or match a word, or are exposed to it.

And you wonder why I have to supplement it (heavily) with News-2-You and adapted books?  They are being asked to listen to a story and answer, on their own (not even multiple choice) how and why questions.

How.  And.  Why.  Questions.

Now, I am completely, totally on board with providing access to grade level content.  We work out of the grade level social studies texts, for instance, but I supplement those with adapted texts and we do more functional things with the books like number matching (e.g. "open to page 14"), counting ("how many Native Americans are on this page?"), copying/handwriting ("copy the first red word on page 17") and so forth.

Plus, I try to supplement that with some of the books we read, like when we did Little House last year, and ended up talking a lot about westward movement, Native Americans, and so forth.

But...I am left spluttering in incoherent amazement.

Here's hoping with the introduction of the CMA for the kids who get advanced scores too much on the CAPA (Angel, Former 4th Grade Girl A who has moved on to another program, Mama's Boy R, Space Cadet J), they'll adjust CAPA back to what it was supposed to be.

However, the fun part?

I did do half of Bulldozer's test (the language arts portion), and that was an exercise in hilarity.  I spent half the time saying, "Bulldozer, hands down.  Bulldozer, wait.  Bulldozer, wait.  Bulldozer, for the love of all that's good and holy, PLEASE JUST WAIT!"  Okay, I didn't say the last, but I did think it.

(He actually scored very, very well -- but that's to be expected; his strength is by far reading and spelling...math will not go so well.)

But after the first six or seven questions, he was so done.  I kept going, "Bulldozer, hang on, just three more.  Bulldozer, come on...."

And, of course, it got to the point where it was, "Bulldozer, PLEASE hang on just for ONE MORE QUESTION!"

In honor of the post title, a quote (about midway through the page you will find a sound file) that sums up how I feel about the whole thing:  "The avalanche has already started.  It is too late for the pebbles to vote."

The Visit

So, New Boy B's dad is visiting tomorrow, and then I have to dash off to meet with Psychologist JW and Speech Person DFT (when did she invite herself?) to talk about Superhero, whose tri is coming up.

I could rant about Speech Person DFT writing another email behind my back and trying to stir up drama, but I won't.  Suffice it to say that I was...miffed.

In other news, while browsing Adobe's site to see if I could upgrade my old version of Photoshop CS to CS3 (I don't think so, because I bought an education version of it), I came upon Photoshop Express -- half web-based image editing, and half Flickr/Picasa.  Pretty nifty.

Further Proof

Of what, you might ask?

Why, that I'm a nerd, of course.

I have had this printed out and waiting for a few spare moments since Friday evening.

Marketing Gone Horribly Awry

I just got a catalog featuring clothes exclusively of sizes zero to three.

Because people who shop at Catherine's would really, really want those size two capris....

8-/

I Heart Adama

This is not so much of a spoiler as...well, okay, it's a tiny bit of a spoiler, but....

So, Adama has this book that he wants to read to Roslin.  (The how and why and all that are the spoilers, but never mind.)  She says she can't remember the ending.  He says he doesn't know the ending because he's never read it.

"But it's your favorite," she says.

He says something along the line of, "I like it so much, I don't want it to end, so I've never read the ending."

I seriously considered not watching the final episode of Deep Space Nine.  I never did watch the final episode of Babylon 5.  I did not watch the last episode of Voyager.

There's a whole slew of final episodes I've never watched -- for precisely that reason.

I'm rather surprised I actually read through to the end of Deathly Hallows, except that while I really enjoy Harry Potter, I was never all that emotionally invested in it besides enjoying the series and being curious as to whether I was right.

Anyway, I suddenly felt a sudden surge of affection for good ol' Bill.

(Also?  Can human-form Cylons age?  'Cause if they can, I have a very interesting theory about Ellen....)

D'oh!

I have the horrible feeling that Patrick will wheedle his way into a Disneyland trip this weekend as well.  I have a gazillion and five things to do (my grand plan of getting ahead was called off on Monday when I found out about New Boy B, and my semi-grand plan of getting at least caught up was called off on Tuesday when Lore refused to mount my Boardmaker CD for about half an hour and made me work until nearly 11:00 to finish up the stuff I needed to make for him) and really can't afford the time.

But...they're the monorails.  They're Patrick's thing.

Sigh.

If only it were winter when our passes were good on Fridays...we could go for dinner, hop on the monorail (who am I kidding; every Disney geek within 4 hours of the west coast will be doing the same thing...it'd be more like "wait in line until closing time for the monorail and then go have McDonalds because you missed dinner."  Oooh, or Sonic.  I love Sonic. I'd kill for a sour apple slush right now. I wish we had Sonic...all those commercials on Time Warner cable are so unfair.).

Remember the good ol' days when I was at least a week ahead of the game for homework and journals?  Or two weeks ahead on News-2-You?  Or -- get this -- a month ahead with Charlie?

Yeah, me too.

Bad News in a Good Way

Prince John:  I don't want to hear any bad news. So, what kind of news is it?

Sheriff of Rottingham: Well, to be perfectly frank, it's bad.

Prince John: [shouts] I knew it! I knew it would be bad news. Wait, I have an idea. Maybe if you tell me the *bad* news in a *good* way, it wouldn't sound so bad.

Sheriff of Rottingham: [thinking] The bad news in a good way. Yes, I can do that. The bad news in a good way. Well, here it goes.

[hysterically]
Sheriff of Rottingham: W-wait till you hear this! I just saw Robin of Locksley, he's back from the crusades. 

[laughs]
Sheriff of Rottingham: You know, he just beat the *crap* out of me and my men.

[laughs]
Sheriff of Rottingham: He hates you and he loves your brother, Richard!

[laughs]
Sheriff of Rottingham: And...

[laughs]
Sheriff of Rottingham: ... he wants to see you hanged!

[laughs] 

Sheriff of Rottingham: We, we're in a lot of trouble! 

[laughs and snorts loudly]

Prince John: [furious] What, are you crazy? Why are you laughing? This is terrible news!

So, let me give this a try....

Well, we're getting a temporary additional six hour aide!  Hooray!  How awesome for us!  Finally.

(in tiny, quiet voice)

We also get the kid who has several fall-to-the-floor seizures a day, who can't be outside if it's over 90 degrees (which royally screws up APE, which he gets), and who requires injections to stop some seizures that Nurse P won't train us to do, so we get to call an ambulance if he's seizing for more than 5 or 8 minutes (different documents say different things) and we can't get ahold of dad.

Yay us?

Delayed Reactions

Superhero is known for having delayed reactions to things.  Some big things take a couple of days.  Small stuff can take a few minutes to an hour.

Despite Aide J being out (again) and having no sub (again), Superhero handled the day fairly well, until after recess when Bulldozer hit him for no (apparent) reason.

It took 10 minutes for Superhero to realize what happened, so he turned and hit me.

Sigh.

I think I have everything done for New Boy B, though I still have lingering concerns over our ability to keep him safe and adequately supervised.  I doubt anything will be done about it, though I did mention to Principal S that if he does come, it'll be imperative that, if at all possible, someone covers any openings I have.  None of this "Oh, J is out and there's no sub" stuff.

Incidentally, she has missed 15 days of this past school year.  If she were a kid, she'd have gotten an excessive absences letter.

Know what's scary?

That's three weeks.

She has missed three weeks of work.

That's half of what Aide T missed after having surgery.

I have missed two days this year.