Branch 2 and 3: Jet Planes and such...

Macklemore is a new, to me, rapper that I have been feeling strongly pulled to: he is the soundtrack to this blog entry.  Right now, my favorite song of his is Irish Celebration.   

He has been described as a socially conscious rapper, with many of his songs addressing issues surrounding consumerism, race, and drug addiction.

He also has one sibling, a brother, who is an English teacher.  We, English Teachers, support kids to find their-selves, their identity, and their voice.  Being a lover of hip-hop, poetry, and voice I love, and am in love with, a girl who is an elementary music teacher.  We are different people, with different voices, from different families, with different experiences and yet we have a strong connection in the stance of loving the youth and giving them the ability to express themselves.  We will do each other much good and I am happy.  It is my own celebration, but I encourage you to listen to his.

 

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Branch 3:  Life-Relived...For a Time

      Sitting in the living room of my girlfriend's parent's house.  I have just watched a community city firework display.  I am in a good sense of spirit.  I decide to not stress, worry, or over-think these things and events that currently are making me happy:

-a holiday of patriotism

-time with my family

-time with my girlfriend's family

-vacation.

I am using this blog for many purposes.  It is a place to share, a place to organize myself, and a place to know that I am chronologically saving my experiences.   

Branch 2:  An End to Summer School

Summer School has ended.  This year, as readers know, has been very challenging.  Summer school was a remediation course for students who did not pass their standardized test.  I hope and pray for those kids of  mine and I hope they know they are loved and are connected to an adult willing to play a positive roll in their life.  Unfortunately it is time for me to move to a different part of the map on the adventure of life.  I have always highly judged the leaving of teachers from students and a school after only one year: however with my school being shut down and connections having been made, I will move myself along to new grounds.

     

I will be teaching Freshman ELA Composition this year at a New Orleans new high school.  The administration seems good and willing to provide what it is I am looking for:

-community

-teamwork 

-support.

I will be working with friends and seemingly quality people and I am very excited.  I have two weeks before PD starts. 

Branch 3: Where I Have Been:

My sister was married on Saturday.  Good seeming man, beautiful vineyard wedding, old family reconnected.  It was good to see everyone and chill with my brother again. 

 I brought my girlfriend home for the first time.  It solidified a symbolic moment of realness, of roots, of connection, of sharing and revealing.  And as I am writing this she sleeps on my lap.  She had the choice and offered option to go to bed; "You do your thing," she said.  This is why I love her.  I do not know what will happen; I know to things:  there is hopeful-promise and there is love.

                                         Mackelmore and I wish you all Good Night.

Branches 2 & 3: Work and/or Happiness

Work..... Happiness.....

Humorous, Work Hard Play Hard 

                                                by Wiz Khalifa randomly cued up just now.  Perhaps not so randomly?  

I have mentioned before, that it has been a long and difficult year of traveling life's path; that it has come to a good and hopeful promising future.  I was additionally hoping; I would have a little more down-time, before my recalibration needed to powerfully impact its next start.  I have gone, and will go, from:  

summer school to

                               having to move to

                                                              sister's wedding to

                                                                                               girl's mom's birthday to

                            

                             a one week break that

                                                                    is not really a break to

                                                                                                         4 weeks of PD for coming year to

                                                                  The beginning of another school year.

Damn, that is a lot.  Not impossible, not bad, good even, but certainly a massive majority of task, work, and accomplishment.   I did forget to mention that I do have a 7 book reading list, 1 movie, and full season of a television show that is due before PD--but details details.  I have so much I need to do.  Tasks among tasks among lists among the need to organize.  I am going to be aloft for a time and

I really need to find a way to keep writing my poetry and 

spoken word and 

work on my chapbook.  Ok, break is over.  Time to head home, organize some information reference material, do some work and 

maybe chill and

                         I miss you.

         

Branch 1: People are Poetry

Natasha Trethewey was placed as our countries Poet Laureate earlier this month.  She begins her position's responsibilities come September.
 =======================================================================

The following poem reminds me of a similar experience.

Her Reading of Monument

Monument

Natasha Trethewey

Today the ants are busy
beside my front steps, weaving
in and out of the hill they’re building.
I watch them emerge and—

like everything I’ve forgotten—disappear
into the subterranean, a world
made by displacement. In the cemetery
last June, I circled, lost—

weeds and grass grown up all around—
the landscape blurred and waving.
At my mother’s grave, ants streamed in
and out like arteries, a tiny hill rising

above her untended plot. Bit by bit,
red dirt piled up, spread
like a rash on the grass; I watched a long time
the ants’ determined work,

how they brought up soil
of which she will be part,
and placed it before me. Believe me when I say
I’ve tried not to begrudge them

their industry, this reminder of what
I haven’t done. Even now,
the mound is a blister on my heart,
a red and humming swarm.

 ====================================================================

Accomplishments:
-Pulitzer Prize in Poetry in 2006 for Native Guard
-Poet Laureate of Mississippi
-Poetry Chair of Emory University
-Writer-in-Residence  at Hollins University.
-A.B. in English at University of Georgia
-M.A. in English/Creative Writing from Hollins University
-She will be the first poet laureate to take residency in Washington D.C.

Her Poetry
-adaptations of free verse and formal structure
-reoccurring themes:
     -racial legacies of America
     -synch of her story and stories in history

Branch 2: Ends and Beginnings

Branch 2: Ends and Beginnings

And now I find myself, once again moving.  But this time, in that move, staying in a city I am learning to love, connecting tp a woman with a shared love we are growing, and pulling my last two locational and cultural years of teaching to pour into a new charter school Organization whose founding last few years have placed it as one of the top performing in the city.  An email was sent today connecting all the members of our future team for next year with bios of us each.  Here is my call to arms, written by my future principal for next year teaching High School Freshmen English to the youth of the city of New Orleans:



Cid Galicia, Mr. G., is a founding ELA teacher and leader of the Chico St. Advisory. Cid has been teaching writing for a few years now, while also sharpening his poetry, rap skills, and swing dance skills. Swing dance!  Cid’s humor and desire to understand what motivates his scholars was on full display throughout the process – as was his curiosity about all things teaching. 

=================================================================

As a teacher, I have found myself self traveling ever couple of years.  This has occurred for many reasons; though, over all, I suppose only two:

Personal Profile
The, Professional, State of Education

Personally, it has been the character of self and self-characters that have kept me afoot.  Here is my Professional Teaching Timeline up to my current state:

-graduated college
-picked up a "completing the school year" gig for a teacher on maternity leave.
-then moved to a major city for a girl, dancing, and a more "city life"
-taught after school programs:
                                               -the job market though larger was still difficult
                                               -this allowed for free time
                                               -developing my DJ and Dance experience
                                               -allowed for travel and writing

-transitioned to full time and co-teaching positions which allowed for more professional development, but still personal adventure.
-took a year off and moved back to my college town doing painting and light construction
                                                -it seems I have only taught for highly struggling youth
                                                                  -money
                                                                  -family
                                                                  -violence
                                                                  -etc
-i am an extremest.  all of my sword-like characteristics are very double edged.  I find it difficult to maintain a personal life, when having a professional teaching life.  after the above mentioned years, i felt as though i
 had two choices: keep pushing myself to work and lose my desire to teach or take a temporary break and heal myself so I could continue to do what I love and find meaningful- teach.
-moved again after the aforementioned year to the full time job I found.
-left after two years.  it was a small town, away from people and life, education in California as far as
 curriculum and teacher presence in the classroom was concerned, was pushing me away.
-also, i had broken up with a woman i was still in love with
-distance from the person and being pushed from Cali, combined with the call for teachers in New Orleans
 post Katrina.
-also in conjunction with  the music, dance, and social connections caused; my move once again
- three years is the longest i have ever taught in one city, though each year teaching here I have changed to a different school with a different role.
=====================================================================

Travel back to the top and reread my opening paragraph for the end of this passage.              

Branch 1: "Summer Time and the Livin is Easy..."

Listen to this while reading.


Dear Forest-Walkers,

Welcome to the summer time of my life in this, the year of, 2012.  It has been a long time since I have blogged.  If you are reading this, thank you.  I find happiness in having my voice heard and I will work on posting at least once a week thought out the summer.  If this is your first time traveling the forest with me, refer to my first post for the Branching definitions of my written expressions. As for this entry...

Branch 1: The Muses

Euterpe, I thank you.
Calliope, I thank you.
Erato, I thank you.

As some of my friends may know, I tend to constantly battle in some sense or an other with the feminine.  And though I do this, I know that it is the women in my life who have assisted in healthfully sustaining myself.  You are all my muses and I thank you.

It is hard to keep my poetry voice spoken and written throughout the school year. As many teachers know, your personal pleasures outside of educating the youth must be abandoned--or so it can be felt.  It has been a long time since I have written poetry, blogs, or anything else aside from a Facebook post.  I have said a few times recently that my muses abandon me during the year, because I do not listen to them.  As they should. Why would they give to a mortal who does not answer in thankfulness or expression?  But they have not abandoned me.  They have keep watch upon me and I know I am a loved conduit for their access to the mortal plain.  For I have written one poem a day for the last three days.  Neither of us has abandoned each the other.  I will place snippets of those three pieces and explanations of them. I will try to provide links and you can email me for completed version of each of what I have up to this point.  I definitely appreciate critique, thoughts, feelings and reactions to my pieces.  I hope you enjoy and please leave me a comment both here and on my Facebook page. 

Sincerely,

                       Cid Galicia

Thursday June 7th
Title:                    Sieve and Sand
Poem Type:         Free Verse
Draft:                  Second Draft
Theme:                Duality of Self
Symbols:             English Grammar: Antecedents, Pronouns, Semi-Colons, and Correlative Conjunctions
Link:                   Facebook Note
Excerpt:

Sieve and Sand
                -Fahrenheit 451 “The Sieve and the Sand”
                 Ray Bradbury

time
elicits pathways of thought;
ideas cascade as water
down the mind wall,
pools into focus channels,
 and assorts.
=========================================

Thursday June 8th
Title:                    Human Capital
Poem Type:         Spoken Word
Draft:                   Second Draft
Theme:                State of Education
Symbols:            
Link:                   Facebook Note #2
Excerpt:


You see he doesn’t hear the staff room chat visits
Where the old-school teachers and the new-young TFA kids often self inquizit
In questions that is
Where their silent minds
In silent voices say
                               Do I still even like being a teacher today?
You see for me, my mind’s display
Is purely made of         E.         L.         A.    (ELA)
Synapses to synapses an expository essay:
Brainstorm       10 points
Rough Draft     20 points
Peer Edit          30 points

What’s the points of the points?
Where do they point, to?
Because my teacher’s dad once said:
            That education used to be a humanity
            But now, it’s a business instead
=====================================================


Thursday June 8th
Title:                    The Raven and the Jay

Poem Type:         Ballad (without a repeated refrain as of yet)
Draft:                   First Draft

Theme:                Internal Moral Struggle

Symbols:             Raven-Hellish     Jay-Heavenly
Link:                
Excerpt:

Heaven and Hell

You see Heaven and Hell, they always quell
As all opposing separate nations.
They both have trees and birds and leaves
And would other visit, but there are hesitations there are questions.

What happens there? What are their words?
How do they sound? What do they say?
So they sent their birds to hear the other’s words
Hell the Raven and Heaven its Jay

Through one the night and other the day,
They traveled light and dark.
And when they passed the other’s track
The lights changed in each traveler’s arch.

Branch Three: Lark in the Park Gala

Went to a gala last night called "Lark in the Park."  It was a party to support the uptake and building on City Park here in New Orleans.  Tickets were over $100.  It was opening dining and drinks from all the top restaurants and bars in the city.

======================================================================

Lark in the Park - Friday, March 2, 2012

“Lark Makes a Grand Entrance” will be the theme of Lark in the
Park 2012, the 30th anniversary of our premier event to be held on
Friday, March 2, 2012. Proceeds from the event will fund in-part a
new entrance to the Botanical Garden and Storyland. Pictured with
one architectural proposal are Juli Miller Hart, Gayle Benson,
Genevieve “Gen” Trimble and Margo DuBos. Mrs. Trimble is the
event’s honorary chair, recognizing her many years of dedication to
the Botanical Garden. In 1987, Mrs. Trimble secured a $50,000
donation to refurbish the Rose Garden from the New York-based
retailer Lord & Taylor.
=====================================================================

A friend of mine who was helping organize entertainment needed five dance couples to provide what was called ambiance.  We were given free entry to dance a few sets and then partake of the food and drinks.  It was amazing.

Branch 2: State Testing

Blogging Again,

It's been a while since I have posted.  Going to try and be more frequent.  It helps me release some thoughts, relax, and remember a lot of the positive items in my life.  Quick refresh reminder to readers:

Branch 1: Poetics
Branch 2: School
Branch 3: Life
======================================================================

Most  teachers work a lot.  Too Much doesn't really exist for them.  It exist for their non-teaching friends to remind them/us, so we can stay abreast on life and healthy.  Thank you friends.  So in Louisiana, it is state testing time.  Is it where you are?  What are your tests?  My 7th Graders have iLEAP and my 8th have LEAP.  It will cover core subjects mainly ELA/Math and in the written response/multiple choice it will cover Social Studies/Science as well.

Many of you I speak to, know the reality of the school I teach at here in New Orleans 7th ward.  So, I will not bother with any rants...at the moment.  However, my school had asked me earlier to work after school for tutoring.  I had initially said no, which is amazing for me.  Still, they could not find anybody and had asked me again.  I couldn't refuse that, so I am working with them mon/tues and thurs/fri after school.  Now I'm basically at school from 6am-6pm 4 days a week.  It is a lot.  It is both adding and detracting from my regular school days.

Working with a great Test/Curriculum resource guy admin pulled in.  If we don't gain 15 points we lose our charter, which we basically already have.  A new charter is already basically taking over.  We shall see what we shall see...
======================================================================

In other news.....

 This is one of my 8th graders, after tutoring, checking the quality of my headphones                       

This is the lunch rewards of my kids who rapped for me in the School Test Assembly.

Branch 1: Spoken Word Ballad

Rough Draft

Mississippi Trust Ballad

All I care about is money and the city that I’m from
Ima sip it till I fill it, Ima smoke it till I’m done.
                                                                   -Drake/ Trust Issues

Money running rythyms
As they passin through my mind
Whats the cost of living
And can I pay the rent of time?
Do you see, sometimes I don’t,
I stare down the Mississippi
Her lyricism my antidote
And I can’t, or shouldn't, or won’t
Smooth across her watertop and float.
My feet they are to heavy
And her waters all I know
Socks and shoes and skin run solid through
And from tip to bone I’m soaked

I think of the Mississippi kissing me, calmly
Her lips on me, under me, around me
Upon me all along me
Her water touch at dawn and dusk, a must
That draws this ballad in mindsightsee, have you
Seen her, on nights like this
She rises naked in the bridge light
Hips fog tight, her rapid effervescence
A sense of sex and yet a sense of death
Poseidon's daughter, and men like me
Underwater fodder, Aquarius or not
Water bearers can’t lockwalk blocks without caring for her
So    we do    what old men do
Care about what we can and through her land
We just walk thorugh            and grin

You see Esplanades a tradewind
I sail cross every daybreak
Past homeless Louisiana Dome kids
Walk through the coldness fast and brisk
Pass play until the way free
The freeway be then the bridge that separates
The me from the they
The woman underneath, Ive never talked to her once
And the two men on the corner
I give them menthols from lack of blunts
Its passing through a poor dream a weak and hungry one
I’m apparently a teacher in the ward of 7thdom
Many days I cannot see what it is i bring
Today we talked of Icarus
For I’m thier Daedalus building wings
I tell first period Do not fly low
for the water drags one down. And
Second period Do not fly to high
The sun seres silence into life and
I’ll have to watch you fall and drown
How do you save your children
From Mississippi dreams of bleeding
They do not want to listen to yet another
Preacher preaching

So i watch the inside mindfight
uptight downtight skytight groundtight
And I draw her heaven’s hell light
To cast a spell tight-- to lock and blast
But the bell to third period gridsplits
And before I’ve blessed they’ve passed
I want to slice and swear and water tear
What kind of river kiss is this the Mississippi bears
But finally it’s period prep
And down the stairs I slip trip fall
Past administration's offices and which ever securities on call
I walk into the neighborhood where the students cannot see
And look in the direction of the woman who is the Mississippi
I tear her in my heart and I tear her in my mind
Pop a smoke my daily antidote and fire light its spine
I breath in polluted stillness
Fill my lungs and heart with grime
Fill them with elliptic toxicity
Because the poison stills my mind
I spill my silent tears into the broken street
And though she tries to drown me
I stare with smokey fire and damn, I keep.

I’ll keep walking everyday
Up and down that city street
Devour me Mississippi
I hope I taste of undefeat.
==============================================

Mississippi Trust Ballad    -video link

Branch 1 Revision: Good Morning New Orleans

Original Draft

Good Morning New Orleans

A smoky baptism shirtless [and] in jeans.
Old dances on my feet, old songs in my head.
Hello and good morning New Orleans.

A rumble of vagrants tumble into the street,
Warm congregation looking to be lead
To a smoky baptism, shirtless[and] in jeans.

Church of dance, church of drink, church of city-scene
Doctrine of late nights, dogma of empty beds.
Hello and good morning New Orleans.

Awake to find yourself awoken to a sleezy-jazzy dream.
Sojourners seeking to be melody- fed
To a smoky baptism, shirtless[and] in jeans.

A place where the rusted trumpet is the one that gleams.
Where law, as skirt, is ripped and shed
Hello and good morning New Orleans.

Ambitions, like street lights, hang in streams
lighting a path for the city’s dead.
To a smoky baptism, shirtless[and] in jeans.

A boy caught flight when the angels teamed,
Landing softly with wings widespread
To a smoky baptism, shirtless and in jeans.
Hello and good morning New Orleans.

===================================================================================

Final Draft

Good Morning New Orleans

A smoky baptism shirtless and in jeans.
Old dances on my feet, old songs in my head.
Hello and good morning New Orleans.

A rumble of vagrants tumble into the street,
Warm congregation looking to be lead
To a smoky baptism, shirtless and in jeans.

Church of dance, church of drink, church of city-scene
Doctrine of late nights, dogma of empty beds.
Hello and good morning New Orleans.

Awake to find yourself awoken to a sleezy-jazzy dream.
Sojourners seeking to be melody- fed
To a smoky baptism, shirtless and in jeans.

A place where the rusted trumpet is the one that gleams.
Where law, as skirt, is ripped and shed
Hello and good morning New Orleans.

Ambitions, like street lights, hang in streams
Lighting a path for the city’s dead.
To a smoky baptism, shirtless and  in jeans.

A boy caught flight when the angels teamed,
Landing softly with wings widespread
To a smoky baptism, shirtless and in jeans.
Hello and good morning New Orleans.