Stand and Deliver: part 2

It was really amazing to see the transformation the students took from the beginning of the movie to the last. And not just in the students but also in Mr. Escalante. They overcame so many hurdles together. The students started out as students who did not care about school, getting an education and learning, caring about what would happen to them in the future, and also having pretty low self-images and low self-esteems of themselves. The school had very low expectations of the students. Mr. Escalante raised the bar for his math students, expected more of them, encouraged them, and helped them be the best that they could be. I really liked that he helped to push them farther and farther to accomplish more and more; And that he was there helping them, coaching them, teaching them, mentoring them, and even cooking for them. He taught them never to settle and to always do your best, even when people think push back. I found this movie to be very inspiring. I wish that there were more teachers like Mr. Escalante in the world, teaching with such passion, kindness, patience, and creativity.

Stand and Deliver: part 1

I always forget that I have seen Stand and Deliver before, until I am about half way through it. What I really appreciate about Mr. Escalante is his ability to adapt. This quality is obvious from the very beginning, when he showed up to teach computer class and they send him to his classroom to teach math. He didn’t put up a big fuss or walk out and say he didn’t want to teach math; he accepted the challenge and walked into his room and started to teach math. He spent the first day observing his students and sort of sizing them up, came back on the second day and approached them in a way that they could relate to him and respect him. He had his work cut out for him. Entering a school that was losing its accreditation, teaching students who had extremely hard home lives and did not feel that getting a high school education was going to help them in anyway. It was a joke to them, a waste of time. In being adaptable, creative, and receptive to what his students had to say; I feel like Mr. Escalante helped to change his student’s view of education and also their personal lives at home.

What I Value in a Teacher

There are several qualities that I value in a teacher; those qualities are encouragement, understanding, roll model, I feel like a teacher should inspire their students and teach them to think critically. Thinking back to teachers I have had in the past I really admire teachers who have taught without making it feel like you are learning. Who teach in a way that makes it fun, interesting, challenging, while applying it to real life. I had a teacher like that when I was in high school taking Japanese for the first time. Mrs. Goto did a good job drawing out good qualities in her students by being very attentive, challenging us when she knew the materials were too easy, being very approachable during and after class, and teaching us things that we could apply to real life. It wasn’t always easy, but she was always there to help us through it. Even though she had a class room of 25 students, Mrs. Goto always had time to help students one on one. She encouraged us to help each other and not just learn from her.  Mrs. Goto used very creative methods of teaching us the material; we danced, sang, put together plays, did exercises, and could only speak Japanese in class. She went above and beyond to really teach her students.  This is my example of what I value in a teacher.

Audre Lorde

Audre Lorde did a wonderful job illustrating to her readers her educational experience that was the first grade. The way it was written made it very easy to picture the scene’s   she was painting and it felt like you were there with here experiencing her emotions and her life. Readers could tell that this was a big life event for her and that it was one that was still extremely vivid for her. Examples of this are when she is describing what happened between her, her mother and the librarian, “My mother was pinching my ear off one bright afternoon, while I lay spread-eagled on the floor of the Children’s Room like a furious little brown toad, screaming bloody murder and embarrassing my mother to death.”  This sentence is a great example of how well she paints the pictures of her experience right before she found she wanted to learn to read.  A few great examples of her school experience with Sister Mary of Perpetual Help is when she sent a note home with Audre to give to her mother that stated, “…Not to dress me in so many layers of clothing because then I couldn’t feel the strap on my behind when I was punished.”  Another is, “She [Sister Mary of Perpetual Help] had divided up the lass into two groups, the Fairies and the Brownies. In this day of heightened sensitivity to racism and color usage, I don’t have to tell you which were the good students and which were the baddies.” Though these great descriptive sentences it is easy to tell that she went to school in a time where teachers were mostly disciplinarians and were able to use physical punishment in order to get their students to do their work.

Educational Narrative Final Draft

During the past ten years of my life I have learned a great deal about myself, through experiences, self-reflection, and a lot of patience. One of the most useful things that I have learned about myself is that I learn most things relatively quickly.

Almost six years ago I was given a guitar for my birthday. A reddish-black sun-burst Johnson in a black hard sturdy case; lined with a plush black lining soft enough that any guitar would be proud to call it a home. It’s not the most expensive guitar, not the most elaborate, nor is it the prettiest. Honestly, its mediocre, an excellent beginner’s guitar. But the silk steel strings that line its neck emit a soft rich tone full of feeling that mimic those of the owners; strong yet often times soft spoken.

A good portion of the reason why I was given this guitar was because of a promise a good friend of mine, Brian, made to me several years prior. One of the last things Brian said to me before I moved to the big city was, “Get a guitar. Call me when you do and I will give you free lessons.”

Several years later I received my guitar and I could not have been happier. It had been a while since I spoke to Brian but I called him up nonetheless and said, “I got that guitar, you ready to give me lessons?!”

Back tracking just a tad here to offer up some history, I sort of grew up playing music. As a child I played violin for two years, clarinet for three years, choir for a year or so, and a year plus of piano. My idea of “fun” growing up was not playing Barbie’s with my younger sister or playing games with our friends, it was sitting for hours and practicing whatever instrument I was playing at the time, often times playing the same piece of music over and over again until it was mastered and burned into memory so I could play it without reading the music.  Needless to say my little sister did not find this amusing or fun and it caused many a fight between us, the fact that I was more interested in music than her; moving on.

                My band teacher in Middle School, Mr. Knatt, taught us the importance of listening to one another, being able to hear the tones in our music to the point of being able to tell by ear if players were sharp or flat. He would even go so far as to stopping our 90 person band to go through whatever section, be it clarinet, oboe  flute, or drums, making each person play to find out who the culprit was. This, this was horrifying. The stress, anxiety, and dread were not only unbearable but were also painful. Often this amount of stress would cause one to tremble and shake so badly as to cause them to mess up. Girls often left his class in tears, (though I was never one of them) he was so serious and brutal about the tone and quality of the music we put out as a class.

I attribute my ability to hear those fine details in any music I listen to now, to Mr. Knatt. Without him teaching me those skills, I would not be playing my guitar, nor would my passion for music be as great as it is now.  Music is a big corner stone of my life, and it always will be.

Now back to the guitar. So I make contact with my friend Brian and say, “Hey I got my guitar are you ready to teach me?” “I’d love too!” he replied.

I show up at his house which is about 20 minutes away from mine. It was sometime in November and it was cold and raining out. I proudly show him my guitar, play him the half a song I taught myself to play; only for him to correct me and show me how I had taught myself wrong since he already knew how to play that song. Then I started learning.

We talked for a while about the different ways he could teach me. I told him that I was a very quick learner and that I had a good ear. It was shortly thereafter that we reached the conclusion that he would not teach me how to read music, but that he would teach me so that I could play on my own if I wished or with a group of people. To this day I still do not know how to read music for guitar.

We could, more like I could, not decide on what sort of music I wanted to learn to play. Instead I insisted that he teach me everything he knew. All I wanted to do was play my guitar, it did not matter to me what sort of music it was, because all that mattered to me was getting the music that was stuck inside of me out. The first song that he taught me was the one I had tried to teach myself before my first lesson with him. Except this time I learned it the proper way. It was Lyin’ Eye’s by The Eagles. He sat down across from me and just started playing. Ten minutes later I was playing the entire song chord for chord, strum for strum like I had been playing it my entire life, minus a chord or two here and there (that darn B and F chord get me still to this day!).

Now that we had figured out a good way for me to learn, the songs came rolling through. During my peak playing I was learning to play a song a lesson and I became better and better at picking up songs by just watching Brian play them a few times through. Playing my sweet Johnson is so much fun, so rewarding, relaxing, therapeutic and fulfilling to me.

Aside from learning how to play my wonderful guitar I also learned the amount of diligence it takes to truly become good at something. Yes I have a “knack” for learning and retaining information and experiences quickly but just having this ability is not enough to make one great. Practice, hard work, dedication, and motivation are also needed.  My passion for music also grew during this period of learning. Music is a tremendously huge part of my life. Lastly, my desire for learning this instrument aside, I could not have done it without a good friend teaching me everything he knew.  

Extremely Rough, rough draft of Ed. Narrative

Almost six years ago I was given a guitar for my birthday. A reddish-black sun burst Johnson in a black sturdy hard case; lined with a plush black lining soft enough that any guitar would be proud to call it a home.  It’s not the most expensive guitar money can buy, nor is it the cheapest. Honestly it’s pretty mediocre, an excellent beginners guitar. But the silk steel strings that line its neck emit a soft rich tone full of feeling that mimic those of the owners; strong yet often times soft spoken.

A good portion of the reason why I was given this guitar was because of a promise a good friend of mine made to me several years prior to getting this guitar. One of the last things this friend said to me before I moved back to the big city was, “Get a guitar. Call me when you have it, and I will give you free lessons.”

So I got the guitar. And I couldn’t be happier.  It had been a while since I had talked to my friend but I called him up none the less and said, “I got that guitar you ready to give me lessons?!”

Back tracking just a tad here to offer up some history, I sort of grew up playing music. As a child I played violin for two years, clarinet for three years, choir, and a year plus of piano.  My idea of fun growing up was not playing with my younger sister, but sitting for hours and practicing whatever instrument I was playing at the time. Often times playing the same piece of music over and over again until it was mastered and burned into memory so I could play it without reading the music. My band teacher in Middle School taught us the importance of listening to one another, and being able to hear the tones in our music to the point of being able to tell by ear if players were sharp or flat. To the point of stopping our 90 person band to go through whatever section, be it clarinet, flute, or drums, making each person play to find out who the culprit was. Girls often left his class in tears he was so serious and brutal about tone and quality of the music we put out as a class. But I attribute my ability to hear those fine details in any music I listen to now, to him. Because without him teaching me those skills, I would not be playing my guitar, nor would my passion for music be as great as it is now.

Now back to the guitar. So I’ve made contact with my friend “Brian”. Said, “Hey I got my guitar are you ready to teach me?” And he said, “I’d love too!”

I showed up at his house about 20 minutes away from mine, it was sometime in November. So it was cold and raining out. I proudly showed him my guitar, played him the half a song I knew how to play (only to find out I had taught it to myself wrong, cause of course he knew how to play it already!) and started learning.

We talked for a while about the different ways he could teach me. I told him that I was a very quick learner and that I had a good ear. And it was very shortly thereafter that we reached the conclusion that he would not teach me how to read music, but that he would teach me so that I could play on my own if I wished or with a group of people.

We could, more like I could, not decide on what sort of music I wanted to learn to play. And insisted that he teach me everything he knew. All I wanted to do was play my guitar, it didn’t matter to me what sort of music it was.  The first song he taught me was the one I had tried to teach myself before my first lesson with him. Except this time I learned it the proper way. It was Lyin’ Eye’s by The Eagles. He sat down across from me and just started playing. Ten minutes later I was playing the entire song chord for chord, strum for strum like I had been playing it my entire life, minus a chord or two here and there (that darn B and F chord gets me still to this day!).

Now that we had figured out a good way for me to learn, the songs came rolling through. During my peak playing I was learning to play a song a lesson. And I became better and better at picking up songs by just watching him play them a few times through.  It was so much fun, so rewarding, relaxing, therapeutic, and full filling to me. I knew prior to playing the guitar that my “knack” for things in life was learning and retaining information and experiences quickly but I did not know it was to this degree, being able to watch someone play a song and by the second time through knowing it in its entirety.