On the term "ghetto"....

I am not ashamed to say that I was born and raised in the city of Philadelphia.   I was not living in Chester County.   I was not in Upper Darby.   I was IN Philadelphia.   The address on my house was 5017 Jackson Street.   We lived in a row home.    

Growing up on Jackson Street was a lot of fun.   Well... until I was about in 7th or 8th grade.   The neighborhood was united.   Everyone took care of one another.   However, eventually, things changed and things got ugly.   

This is a picture of me outside my house on my wedding day.   My parents put the house for sale right after we married and it sold immediately.

Now to give a little lesson about where I grew up.... here are some Google earth views.   This is the middle of Jackson Street.   Right outside my front door.   If you were to click this image you would see on the far left corner is the corner store.   Once you cross that street though... you better have had a bullet proof vest on.    Going to the corner store was fine.    No worries there.   Crossing the street however.... not so much.

This is my house I grew up in.   We had a three bedroom home and a "concrete jungle" out back.   At 5015 was our neighbor Jim.   Jim always kept a good eye out on us. 

Now this right here is what is known as the slam zone.   This is to the right of my house.   This was often known as the slam zone because in the winters, if you hauled down Haworth too hard and fast, you were going to slam into something.    If you look closely there is a wall at that corner property.   I used to sit on that wall and hang out with my friends but as I got older, and the neighborhood changed... that wall became off limits.    I was jumped right on that corner before.   It happens.    Three dudes jumped me and slashed my arms up.    They met the wrath of my father and I was never targeted again.

This house is directly across from my childhood home.   I hate seeing the litter on the street because growing up, it wasn't like this.   My "Uncle" Nunzio and "Aunt" Carol lived there.    Along with my "cousin" Joey and Lena.    Note the quotation marks.    Family but not blood.   They kept an eye on us, too.   

For grades 1-8 my parents sent us to Catholic School.   It was the best option and also the safest option.    Here are some photos of Catholic School.

It's sad to me that the neighborhood has changed so much that the school isn't even there anymore.   It was knocked down.   As the neighborhood change, the leadership in the Church became selective and we lost a lot of parishioners.    Our head priest was known for saying that he wasn't in the business of giving out charity.  I had a great education here.    I could walk to school safely.   I had no issues.

However around 1995-1996 is when the city started to turn and each year got a bit more uneasy.    I attended Girls High at Broad and Olney.   This is one way I got to school:

The cool thing about growing up in the city is that there were so many options to get from point a to point b.    Girls High was a magnet school and the bar was high.    Some days I took the 8 express to school.   Some days I took the El.    And some days I just needed some time to myself and I took the 26 home which was a longer ride but I adored the bus driver and he kept me safe.   I was in 10th grade when my driver had to get me off the bus here because a man had come on the bus with a gun and he wasn't sure where that was going to lead.

I always had an emergency quarter so I had to call my dad and let him know I was at Harbison and I wanted to walk home or at least meet him at Wiss for a ride.

As the neighborhood changed and as my body changed, young females were a target.   There was a man who lived up the block from us.    His name was Red.  Big black man.   Every single morning Red would come out and watch me and make sure I got on the 25 or 73 safely to then get on the 8 to get to Girls High.    Red would ask me every single day what my schedule was and sure enough he'd be outside watching and waiting for me to make sure gang bangers and thugs wouldn't mess with me on my walk down the block to my house.    Because like I said.... I could go to my house and I could go to the corner store.... but I should never ever cross the street here:

And while this all sounds so weird or foreign to whomever is reading this... this was a norm for me.

The real sadness came when a kid my age who I grew up with died.   He was running drugs for a while, since we were 11 years old.   He got his life together, found God, and started turning himself into a decent human being.    They didn't like that, and they left his body here:

It was at this point that I was engaged and living at college full time.   I just knew I wanted to be married in Philly and I wanted to walk down my childhood stairs.   Luckily, there was enough respect (and in some ways fear) towards my family that nothing ruined our wedding day or wedding festivities. 

I had a really awesome childhood growing up in the city and for some this is hard to understand because I found so much more good in the city than the bad.    To me, the reality is, there are bad people everywhere but there are also angels among us.   For me, I had my "uncles" watching me.   I had Red.    I had my bus driver.   

When you use the term "ghetto" it can be taken the wrong way.    Be careful with that word.   Growing up in the ghetto, in my opinion, is just what shaped me to be the me I am today.   I learned that there can be crap people and crap situations.    I learned that actions have consequences.   I learned that no one is immune from matters of consequence.    Just because I grew up in the ghetto does not mean I ran drugs, it does not mean I did drugs, it does not mean my morals were loose or my integrity was lost. 

Be careful with your words and judgements, dear friends.   

You have no idea what I've seen and really.... would it matter?    What matters most is kindness.   You get what you give.   

12:31am...

12:31am and my night owls are working hard.... if/when we go back to school in the fall, it's going to be tough to get us on a normal schedule.

I love this writing submission:

"The two relationships that are important to me right now are with God and my dog Bo. God protects me from this virus and can keep me safe. My dog Bo makes me feel happy and relaxed. I think these relationships would be important for me throughout my whole life. That's the most important relationship I have right now. "

Have I ever mentioned how much I LOVE my students?

High expectations

If you were to sit down with any one of my students after having me as their teacher for about a month.... you would know I have high expectations for them.

If you're new to my blog (Welcome!), I am a high school special education teacher.    I'm in year 15 working as a Resource Room Language Arts Teacher.    I've been with my district for all 15 years and I'm incredibly blessed to be able to say I LOVE WHAT I DO.

My students have learning disabilities.   It is my personal belief, that we all have some sort of learning disability.   

In my classroom, I have a saying.    By the end of the first marking period with me, students KNOW exactly what this saying is and what it means.    It goes a little something like this:

In Mrs. Geib's classroom, we do not allow our 

circumstance to become our excuse.

In other words, I do not allow my students to use their disability as an excuse to do less than.   I do not allow them to use their disability as a crutch.    We spend time working on us.   We identify our strengths.   We identify our weaknesses.    We work together to grow and improve.    

When school "closed" for the year, I was heartbroken.   I had the ugly tears and everything.   I was really worried about my students.    I didn't know what to expect from them with online work.   I didn't know what to expect from myself.    These past few weeks have been eye opening learning experiences for both of us.

This week, I've asked my students to share with me what they are learning about themselves as online learners and the responses I'm receiving are amazing.    They're honest.   They're raw.    They're authentic.    I can't help but smile as I read each and every one pop in.    Each notification that pops up on my phone or computer, I find myself pleasantly surprised.

I'm also learning that teens have weird hours.    We've read countless articles on the teen brain in class and we've read a lot about the importance of a good nights sleep.    Seriously... there's a boat load of these articles on the NPR website alone.

I am so glad I didn't lower my standards for online learning.    I am so proud of the students who are taking the time to get the work done and not just done... but done WELL.    At 12:04am I was inspired to post this blog.    Why?    Because my phone dinged and I received this beautiful visualization task from one of my amazing students.     She's a phenomenal artist and it seems her creative spark comes out late at night.    She's reading and creating.    She's learning at the beat of her own drum.    She is not giving up.   She is not shutting down.   She rages on, and I couldn't be more pleased.  

Book review

Our district is presently working on a Reading Challenge.   #PASDReads1Million

I love to read.   I am a reading teacher for a reason.

As a reader... I have quirks.    One of which is I rarely ever read the life story of someone who is still alive.   It's rare for me.   I broke that rule with my girl Tina.   She's 80 and I love her.    She's a freaking warrior.   

YES - I am a huge Tina Turner fan.   Oh, I adore her music!   Love it!

Look.... me as a tiny human trying to be Tina:

Have you ever read a book and deliberately started reading SLOWLY because you know the book is about to end?

That's what happened with me and this book.   I absolutely adored each page, each line.    It's beautifully written and I highly recommend! 

What are YOU reading right now?

Change is the constant

Organization is not a weakness for me.   I'm blessed with that.   I attended Catholic School from grades one through eight.   I really didn't have a choice.

This weekend, I spent time re-organizing the office.    Ya'll know I love me some accessories and I love my jewelry.    This "office" used to be where I did work for work from time to time (I prefer to work in my classroom) and work my business.

Because of online teaching, I'm obviously in here A LOT.    I do LIVE Zoom lessons with my students, and I've got a really nice system and schedule going.     Or at least... I did.

I have everything beautifully organized, and even made an area in this smaller room for Nora to work on her things as well.   I even let the kids rock out with my Erin Condren 10, 20, and 30 minute timers.   I don't mess around.   I run a tight shift.

A few weeks ago, I unenrolled Nora from her current pre-school.    Expecting a four year old to be on Zoom and paying attention was just something I couldn't wrap my head around.    There was just no way I could keep up with that, plus Elliot's schooling and my responsibilities as a Special Ed Teacher.   The reality is though... Nora's been signed up for a new school in Palmyra for months now and she starts this fall.    Anywhoo...

My son is in 2nd grade and this week they're now moving to all LIVE lessons.    I had to re-do the planner, and tomorrow we have to re-start a new routine again to make this happen.   Supposedly, the lessons will also be recorded and we can get caught up as best we can.    I'm really grateful we bought the printer, that's for sure! 

COVID-19/CORONA has really taught me not to take things for granted.  And it's put a cramp in my organizational OCD ways.   There's so much I miss about teaching.

• I miss packing my bag on Sunday night.
• I miss writing out my ETA's on the calendar for picking up kids.
• I miss packing lunches!
• I miss SEEING my students in person.
• Heck, I even miss smelling them!
• I miss my twinkle lights in my classroom.
• I miss automatic flushing toilets, because apparently... my kids lack this skill.
• I miss my work family.   As dysfunctional as we can be.
• I miss my dry erase boards.
• I miss hearing my students laugh.    I miss our jokes.
• I miss SITTING with my students and working one on one
• I miss writing conferences.
• And I can't believe I'm saying this, but I even miss progress monitoring.
• I'm even down for a fire drill to disrupt the day like a nasty fart.

I wish I could plead with the state.   There are far too many people lacking common sense.  STILL.

Get yourself organized and educated, please!   Stop hanging with your friends.   Stop going out with a naked face.   Stop sucking face with people in public.   Stop being nasty.    Stop thinking you're immortal.   I miss my students, I miss my peeps, and this is real.    

Also... don't drink bleach.   That's stupid.

Yes. YES.

What a week!

How is everyone doing?

Ya'll BREATHING?!?!

What a week it has been!   My God! 

So - I'm a pretty open person.   I believe in advocacy.   I believe in educating folk.    While I am a pretty smart chick, I've got to say, I've got crappy genes.   I just do.    I have two genetic autoimmune issues.    Two.    Didn't ask for them.    Didn't "earn them" from bad habits.    Just the luck of the draw. 

I have something called Hashimoto's disease (AKA my thyroid is brokies) and PCOS.    It's a very chicken vs egg scenario.     I've dealt with the pain, the issues, etc for a long time and for the most part, I've got my body down.    I know what does what to do what and all that.    There are many times I'm in pain and you wouldn't even know it because I'm awesome at hiding it.    I do the best I can managing it.    It sucks because the illnesses are "invisible" but if I'm being completely honest, it could be way worse.

Five years ago THIS week, I went into pre-term labor with my daughter at work.    Wasn't good.   For some reason, my lungs got weak and it was a scary mess.   Thankfully, I had my amazing admin who got me to safety and Nora was FINE.    I was very close to losing her.    I'll never forget that experience.   April.    No buenos.   I never had asthma until after having Elliot.   Sometimes the doctors suspect asthma came on for me because when I was pregnant with Elliot, he kicked me so hard that he broke my ribs.    When I was further along with Nora and closer to her due date, she broke my ribs, too.     Makes me think of the book of Genesis in the Bible.   Damn ribs.   

Almost three years ago (again, in April), we got new carpet in the house.   At that time, Nora was learning how to scoot and was close to crawling etc and BAM.   Lungs quit.   Hospital time.   Scary.   At that time, they declared that I must be building up immunities to medicines despite having two autoimmune diseases.   

Here comes the irony.   Oh the irony.

Because of what happened five and three years ago, we made sure as a medical team to make sure I switch up my asthma meds every 2-2.5 years as a safety precaution.    I literally HAD AN APPOINTMENT SCHEDULED FOR TWO WEEKS AGO TO DO THIS but the Pulmonary doctors office had called and said they'd be canceling the appointment because of Corona/COVID-19.   They asked how I was feeling, if I felt my meds were still working, etc.... I was FINE.   For reals.   Fine.  No issues.   Nada. 

Last Friday, I woke up and I was short of breath.   It was down right terrifying.   I got up and I felt like I had run miles in my sleep.    I tried to calm down.   I did mindfulness things.   I took deep breaths in through my nose and out through pursed lips.   I hit the inhaler.   I grabbed the nebulizer.  It wasn't good.    I managed to get up and I stumbled to the bathroom.    At this point, my husband is terrified right along with me.   What in the world is going on!?! 

The children are sleeping.   I'm sitting in the bathroom and I'm just not okay.    I look at him, terrified, and I said, "I love you.   I love you.   I need you to call 911."

When the ambulance came, it honestly just made things worse at first.   Because of COVID-19/Corona, they did not want to come into the house.   They preferred that I'd come down to them.  At this point, my fingernails were blue and they needed to come and get me.    By the time I was in the ambulance, my Oxygen levels were in the 50's.    Everything was a blur.    Needless to say, I was admitted right away, tested for COVID/Corona and the doctors began working me up.   

Friday night into Saturday morning I was on the "Covid" floor.   What an interesting experience that was.   I learned a lot about what this illness is and what really isn't being reported in the media.   For example, when it gets to the lungs... you're already screwed.   Sorry, no nicer way to put it.   Many people are having GI issues first or shrugging things off as allergies.    I learned that hot water with lemon, and any hot beverages are the way to go.   Social distancing and masks are no joke.   Once my test came back negative, I was still on the breathing machine, so I had to stay in my own secluded room.    Anyone who came in was in a special suit.  No visitors.   Friday night sleeping was hard and interrupted but I was slowly improving.    By Saturday, I had been cleared from my second testing and moved to another floor with a room-mate.   However, because I still had to use the breathing machine from time to time and it had "particles" I was only with a room-mate for about three hours until I got my own room again.    Saturday I was making improvements but my lungs decided on one last mood swing and I needed medical intervention by an entire team of doctors again.    By about 10pm Saturday, life was good.    We got my body adjusted, my blood sugars were improving (not diabetic), and all of my other tests came back FINE.    All day Sunday was spent on Oxygen and I was literally improving hour by hour.    The real test was sleeping on Sunday night.   If I could sleep on Sunday without my O2 levels dropping and without the Oxygen, they'd discuss me going home on Monday.

I needed to be distracted and luckily they did let my husband at least drop off a bag in the lobby with my laptop.    Not even kidding, I was THRILLED about online education while in the hospital.   I kept myself entertained with school work, coming up with fun ways to talk about The Little Prince with my students, watched some Netflix, just kept myself CHILLLLLL.    I woke up Monday morning at 4am to the tip tap of a nurse doing my labs and my third and final COVID-CORONA test.   I passed all my physical tests, I promised to be a good girl, I scored some free samples of the new meds, I had meds called into the CVS in town for me and by 2pm my dear buddy was at the hospital picking me up to drive me home.   

This week I've been keeping a journal on the med portal with my doctor and I'm feeling so much better.    Despite my new medication being $324 a month, plus being on some steroids, I'm doing quite well.    Next week I have a video appointment and then I go and see Pulmonary.     I am never ever allowing the Pulmonary office to cancel me again.   Ever. 

I'm so blessed that despite these two autoimmunes, being a bit fat, and having crap lungs - I'm pretty healthy, LOL.   Heart/ticker are good.   Blood sugar/blood pressure good.   CBC with differential, good.   Lipids, cholesterol, good good good.   

I'm optimistic about the new meds.   But because this really did scare the crap out of me.... I put "Don't die" on my Google Calendar for April for the next four years just in case.

Mad love to my amazing work family for these GORGEOUS flowers!   They really perked all of us up here at home.    My son LOVES Monarch butterflies! 

Making Connections

Making Connections through Online learning

Online learning is going well.   I really miss my students.   I could never be a full time cyber teacher, that's for sure.   I need that physical interaction.   However, we're really making the best of it.

I've been doing LIVE Zoom lessons with the kids.   I'm also learning that my students wake up when my day is half over, LOL - so my hours have changed as well.     I'm very pleased with what has been done thus far.  

Last week we started our class novel and even though it was done online... we had a blast!  

We're presently reading The Little Prince and the kids have been submitting some awesome writing samples... AND... yes.... SHEEP!

I guess it's time I finally let it all out...

March 12, 2020

MARCH 12, 2020

March TWELTH of the year 2020

25 days

TWENTY-FIVE days

Dislike.   Dislike.  Dislike.  REALLLLLLLY Dislike.

March 12th was the last day I saw my students.   COVID-19 has made it's way to the United States with no signs of slowing down, let alone remorse.

At first... we anticipated being off for one week.    And then the Governor told us it was two.

And now... "indefinitely"

The first week off was an adjustment for everyone.   We weren't planning on instruction at that time and in a way, it was somewhat like a break.   I missed my students, but foolishly thought I'd be seeing them in no time at all.   Then we started working with "Continuity of Education" planning.   Online learning.    It seemed things were changing every other day, and then every single day, and in some cases... literally by the hour. 

I have said this before, and I'll say it again (and probably again... and again...):  I work for an amazing district.    Teaching online wasn't too hard of a transition in the literal sense.  It was more emotionally difficult.   When you're raised to be a Constructivist... and then start teaching online... oye. 

Learning Zoom was interesting and now it's something we're all quite comfortable with.   We have an amazing administrative team district wide.   My building admins are freaking rockstars.   My colleagues are spot-on awesome and hilarious. 

What makes teaching online difficult is the EMOTION. 

On the first day of "COE" I was so excited to see a student log in for my office hours on Zoom!   I was hype!   Alright!   I got my first "customer" LOL!    I was pumped!

When I asked him how he was and what I could help him with .... I had to hold my tears in.   He said to me, "Oh, I'm good Mrs. Geib.   I just really wanted to see you."  Bless his heart.    I didn't teach one darn thing during that Zoom session.   We just chatted like we normally would. 

When I logged off, I sobbed like a baby.   What in the world is wrong with me!?!?   I checked my girlie app.   Nope.   Not PMS.   I'm not over-tired.   Wasn't even hangry.   I was just legit SAD.   I'm not getting to give my kids fist bumps, high fives, or hugs.   I'm not able to sit right next to them and work things out.    I'm not there for the funny non-verbals and we're not having the magic that seems to happen in our little part of PHS.   

And then when this happened... the Internetz went CRAY-CRAY

I should have completely stayed away from social media at that point.   But did I?   No.   Of course not.   Idiot move.   I noticed that friends of friends were commenting about teachers being off in summer with pay and off now... and man that boiled my blood.    Stages of Grief?   Perhaps.   So I just wrote from the heart...

I received a lot of positive messages/texts from this post.  I spent time in prayerful reflection and it just really was hitting me that literally the best thing we can do right now... is nothing.  Stay home.  Wash your hands.   Be smart.   

These times are confusing.   I mean seriously... this paired with the crazy weather has my tiny human decorating for Christmas.   I presently have two mini Christmas trees up (and on) in the house.   She put one in the hallway upstairs and the other "had" to be in my bedroom.   Smile and nod, folks.  Smile and nod.

And in addition to the crazy.... no one seems to be LISTENING to what needs to be done in order to fix this problem.   You know... like staying HOME!!!    Seriously, a huge percentage of our county, let alone nation, should be getting a big fat "F" in "listens to and follows directions."     For example... this fool.

This picture was taken in front of my house.   

What you don't see is the man behind the ambulance.   

What you don't hear is him SCREAMING and what you don't see further down the road is the other guy and a bunch of emergency responders looking for a leg.   Yes.   A leg.    

These men decided it would be "fun" to race one another around the blocks in different directions to see if their paths would cross at the same location.   Drunk physics?   Perhaps.  

The man going up the road lost control and hit a parked car across the street.    This caused a major wipe out and some sort of ninja science flying man stuff.    I'm not exactly sure how the leg came off... but it did.   Gross.   And might I add... stupid.

I've also had to stop watching the news because it's only going to make me need to be medicated and all I see anyway is this:

And in case you missed it from this image ^^^^^^. They are not standing six feet apart!   Tisk tisk!

I digress...

Teaching online is definitely not the same, and we're still working out some of the quirks of it all.  Sometimes I wonder if I would have done anything differently on the 12th.   Would there have been more hugs?   More laughs?   More heart to hearts?   You truly do not know what tomorrow holds.

The naively optimistic part of me dreams of a cure, a vaccine, and being back in my classroom in no time at all. 

For now, I'm juggling teaching my normal content, with additional responsibilities and also teaching second grade and pre-school.

I'm trying to find a groove as best I can but the reality is my groove happens in #phs117

My "peeps" (look at that... an Easter pun!) are my students.

So to my dear loves of #phs117 please know this:
I love you.   This is definitely going to be a true test of your executive functioning skills.   
Please know that even though I'm not "there" and you're not "here"...I'm HERE. 
I'm only a click away.  You know how to find me. 
Take care of yourself and your family. 
Make good decisions.   Take advantage of the food offerings the district has.   
Wash your hands frequently and take time to read something of interest each day. 
Write.     Reflect.   Reach out.   
I miss you and all your goofy quirks.    I miss our room and I'm fervently praying we get back to our normal soon. 
But for now... clickity click and I'm there.
Love you mucho,
--Mama Geib