in the Valley of the Sun

Wo bin ich?

2009-02-03T19:42:00.011-07:00

It's Shark Week, and I'm hitting a wall.

Too much going on, and not much is happening.

This schedule is grueling. And yet, when I took the day off yesterday, not much happened to me. I had intended to take a day for my own health, but ended up being legitimately sick. Oh, well. I guess honesty may force it's way through, even if prior statements must be validated, fated into existence as cast shadows from promises past. Or just good timing.

Probably the timing.

And nothing happened.

I mean, I wasn't there, and it was OK.

The day progressed, nobody died, and although my efforts were missed, it was OK.

The lack of necessity for my presence eases my anxiety, and the level to which I contribute -- as measured by the differences observed in my absence -- keeps me motivated to apply my efforts.

The cause is worthy of my greatest efforts.

But, dang.

For real, I am tired.

2009-01-09T21:08:00.001-07:00

Push, push!

2008-12-24T14:31:00.014-07:00

I entered this world a bloody mess, having held my poop for months, crying and naked, removed from my cramped living quarters with forceps and a suctioning device, only to be slapped by a doctor and made to drink milk - which I do not tolerate.

Needless to say, this world was not made for me. Neither I for it.

And don't worry, this is not a reason for me to remove myself from it, but rather a conclusion necessary in order to better understand my place in this spinning, cooling (or "warming"?) ball of formerly molten rock, hurtling through space, spinning, and being sucked into the greedy vacuum of nothingness at ever increasing speeds.

I grew up in the comfortable, uniquely American and Southern, suburbs of Atlanta, GA. Three bedrooms, two baths, Mom and Dad, two kids... scratch that, three kids... then a move to a bigger house. Dogs, cats, fish, small pet rodents. Good grades, high school jobs, church, summer camp, cul-de-sac's, picket fences, two-car families, and one family per house. For the most part, I knew only people like myself, and any differences I observed tended to be reserved to those on TV, those on the other side of the car windows and locked car doors when driving downtown (rare), and the few children of immigrant families who lived in my school district. Oh, and there was one kid in my neighborhood whose mother was from England.

And, somehow, I always knew this misrepresented the world, and the "exotic" rest of the world seemed far more enticing than the boring regularity, predictability, and safety of life in Acworth. Commonness, I felt - and still feel - breeds complacency and blandness. The status quo, like vegetables and fish, is good when new, but quickly loses the qualities that made it enticing in the first place if around too long.

I sought out exposure to things not of my own background, prided myself in being decidedly in favor of the unfamiliar, and experienced other cultures mainly through my imaginative desires to be somewhere else. To be someone else.

I fantasized about learning I was a member of the royal family (a dream later realized), daydreamed about my Native American ancestors, and coveted my ancient relatives who enjoyed (or did they?) simpler lives of subsistence and survival on the Highlands of Scotland, farms in Wales and France, villages in Germany.

And yet I appreciate my existence for what it is, for what I know, and for what I've been able to do. For the people I've met, the events I've witnessed, the feelings I've felt, the thoughts I've thought.

And then Atlanta and the nurturing and spoiling suburbs pooped me out, about as uncomfortably and under confusing circumstances as my original situation at birth.

I sold or gave away almost all I owned, bought a plane ticket, left everyone I had ever known, signed a contract to take on a profession I knew nothing about, and set off confused, anxious, alone, West, to a place I knew nothing about, had never seen, a place devoid of connotations, without a functioning schematic location in my mind. The fifth largest city in the nation, and with the youngest population of the top five, and still without any souls I knew, disconnected form the life I knew - this is what I wanted, isn't it? Isn't this my dream, I thought, to leave all I knew and start over? I had done this on vacation in New York, and had fun with the scary, strange world I experienced, but New York is sufficiently... well... cool. Phoenix, on the other hand, I knew nothing about.

If I were moving to New York City, people would be impressed. "Oooooh, New York!" they'd say, as their eyes glazed over for a bit, staring just past me, imagining bright lights and fashionably urban glamour.

Phoenix, on the other hand, is a different place altogether. Like LA without the money, glamour, and coast, Phoenix sits in the desert, and that's about all it does. With no natural source of water, it would die in less than a week if the Colorado were to dry up.

When I told people I was moving to Phoenix, most people were unable to answer for a second or two, and fell back on the safe filler when words escape the mind:

"Oh..." shift weight, look away, look back "... huh."

So, there I sat in the airport, having impressed no one with my decision, leaving behind all I had known, having packed frantically the night before, and feeling entirely unprepared emotionally, anxious and confused, uncertain, and unable to chat with strangers. I had always watched planes fly over my house, dreamed of leaving behind all I knew, and it was actually about to happen. How was I supposed to feel? I didn't know, and still don't.

I bought a Sprite Zero, caffeine free, sugar free, "very low sodium," basically water with bad stuff, in hopes it would settle my nerves and situate me somewhere between having to pee and being dehydrated on the painfully long (four hour) flight from Southeast to Southwest. This trip used to take months for the Pioneers, but at least they got to walk around.

I opened the Sprite, looking out the window at the acres of concrete, a walkway attached to no plane, sparse clouds, and an enormous and pale blue sky. The Sprite, apparently well-shaken, sprayed all over me. As I had it firmly held between my legs, it soaked my whole where-you-get-wet-when-you-pee-yourself region, and thus I left Atlanta with as few posessions and as little dignity as I entered it.

City at night

2008-08-24T09:41:00.004-07:00

Got there for the tail end of the sunset.

The lights started to glow a lot brighter as the sky got darker.

Photo update from the park and around town

2008-08-23T13:26:00.008-07:00

Took this in the park when the sun started to set.

Beginning of the Kiwanis Trail in the park (where I took most of the following pictures).

Still on the trail.

Looking back, the city is barely visible in the valley below.

Better view of the city at this point.

You can see the mountains on the other side of the valley.

A little higher up this time...

Now, for a diversion from park pictures:

The Saguaro Cactus is definitely a thing of pride here in Phoenix. If you have one in your yard or in front of your business, you take very good care of it. Since it takes 50 years to fully develop an "arm," people sometimes give them crutches to make sure they don't break off. Oh, and they're HUGE! The one in this picture is right by the building, so it is legitimately taller than the roof -- that's not an angle/perspective illusion.

Here's a park picture just so you don't forget this post is about the park...

View from the road heading into in the park.

...now, back to the non-park stuff.

Shopping centers are so fancy here!

This was a basic Borders, coffee shop, GNC type shopping center... with fountains, planters instead of a curb, and a patterned brick parking lot.

And a kid with a Rat-Tail-Mohawk at Wendy's.

View of the baseball stadium from my complex.

I can see this church from my parking deck... notice the "palm tree" to the right of the church. It's an antenna... not fooling anybody, but trying its hardest.

Back to the park!

Seriously, this place is beautiful.

Wild cacti. (Notice the wild ones look at little thirsty... bending over a little, skinnier at the top. The ones in people's yards tend to have their own hoses that water them each night.)

Farther up the trail.

Again, looking back at the city.

Below: 2 pictures I took when driving to my summer school teaching job on the south end of the valley:

Looking south, view of the mountains. (Notice the road is lower than the ground... you can see the dirt on the side of the road since they dug the road lower for some reason... this is important for the next picture.)

Looking north... you can usually see the city, or at least the airport tower, from anywhere in the valley. Since the road was a little low, you can only see the mountains on the north end of the valley (look at the right side of the picture), but if I were a few feet higher, I would have been able to see just about the entire city. It's really odd... if you haven't been to a place this flat, I don't really know how to describe it to you... it's not just flat, it's REALLY flat. And you can see everything, especially if you're on a hill... I can see my apartment complex (easy to find, right by the stadium) from just about any hill in the city. It's so bizarre.

South Mountain Park, city driving at night, other stuff

2008-08-17T10:08:00.001-07:00

My certification test, round two.

2008-07-12T09:27:00.004-07:00

Because of my change in placement to a more bureaucratically complex position (the people who informed me of this change did their best to make it sound like a "super cool upgrade!"), I am taking a second certification test.

I took and passed the Special Education test, clearing me for a Resource Room job, but I will be a in a self contained setting now, so I need to also have certification as an elementary general education teacher.

I took a practice test last night. Passed it, but Arizona won't just take my word for it. Gotta prove it now.

And, to be honest, I am getting excited about the school where I'll be working. In a self-contained setting, where I am with a small group of students all day, I will be able to have much more of an impact on them and get to know them individually.

That being said, I thought I was done with tests back in April.

Hopefully I'll be don with tests for the year as of this afternoon.

Lightning, Monsoon, and More Tricks

2008-07-05T12:24:00.005-07:00

Monsoon season arrives once a year and brings excitement to the desert skies. We get lots of lightning (a bolt every few seconds, for hours), "lots" of rain (maybe an inch), and really cool cloud formations. And, even better, I got a video of my storm chasing night with two of my friends here at ASU.

Twice, I think lightning may have made contact with the field where we were standing, and I was filming when it happened. (Yeah, yeah, I know... we should have known better... but I got it on video! That makes it okay!) They're at about 4:25 and 5:45 in the video, but you should watch the whole thing.

Plus: gymnastics tricks, shot-put, music, and stories.

Enjoy!

Tootsie Rolls!

2008-07-02T21:32:00.005-07:00

This morning, as I sat down to start the day with my small math & reading group, the boy to my right looked up at me, smiling because he was about to share something that would undoubtedly impress me to no end, and said, "Mr. Williams! Mr. Williams! (paused, smiled again) Smell my hand!"
With this, he swung his little hand towards my face, cupped his palm and fingers around my nose, and held it there for my reaction. Honsetly, I didn't know exactly how to react. Hands full of worksheets and graded papers from the previous day, just moments before deep in thought about how I might approach the delicate challenge-but-don't-frustrate principle of effective education with my four math students, I sat there for about two seconds, bewildered and not sure what to do. I had been up for three and a half hours, even though it was 8:30am. My mind was not working quickly. So I sat. I had no choice.

"Chocolate!" I said as I leaned back, pulling my nose from the oxygen-mask shaped hand. It smelled like chocolate. I hoped it smelled like chocolate.

The little boy smiled. "Nooooooooooo..."

I got scared.

"Tooooootsie Rolls!" he said.

Thank goodness. Because you never know.

Gifts from students so far:

-drawing of a flaming skull (attempted on one side, drawn to completion on the other)

-plastic/rubber raptor-claw necklace without the cord

-the fact that every time there's an unnamed man in a story, it's automatically "Mr. Williams"

Photo tour and sunset video

2008-06-29T20:42:00.009-07:00

View from the dorm.
Looking one way on the dorm catwalk.
Looking the other way.
Outside the dorm. The building to the right is the air conditioner, I'm told. Seriously. The whole thing.
There are plants... but sprinklers run all the time to keep them alive.

Biggest aloe plant I've ever seen.
Arizona Iced Tea!!!
...which is made in New York?
Sunset!

Can you see how flat it is here?
The mountains are visible in every direction.
Amazing! And this happens every night!

We see a lot of planes. The airport is really close to downtown and ASU.

Mountains again.

More mountains.
Mountains in opposite direction, other side of the valley.

The bone I mentioned in a previous post. I visit it on my way to my car each morning. Like I said, it just seems normal for bones to lie around in the desert. It is a chicken bone, but, eh, you know, it might as well be a cow skull or something.

Lightning fire pictures

2008-06-28T13:59:00.025-07:00

Click here for videos of the fire:

News Chopper Fire Video

Another Chopper View of the Fire

Below are a lot of good photos from a news website here in Phoenix:

thoughts on Phoenix

2008-06-28T12:16:00.001-07:00

Things you might not know about Phoenix, Arizona: James's observations

By the way, whereas some of this may sound sarcastic, I'm just pointing out things that are "different" (aren't all things?), and I'm actually starting to like most of this stuff. It's funny to think that one day these aspects of life here may merge with what I think of as familiar and being "like home."

Tap water isn't cold. It doesn't get cold. It's warm at the coolest. If you're at a retail store or restaurant and go to the bathroom, when you wash your hands, the cold and hot are both warm. Why? Because it's over 100° F outside, day and night.
104° at night actually feels nice and cool. I was driving with my windows down, enjoying the drop from about 108° when the sun was up an hour before, and the radio man said the current temp. "What!??! This is 104° degrees!??!?!" I'm starting to buy into this whole "It's a dry heat thing," but people neglect to mention there's a huge difference in feeling between having the sun on you and being in the shade.
Everyone weighs, on average, probably 50 lbs. less than Georgians. Could be the heat (you'll feel a little queasy if you think about eating fried stuff when you feel like you're frying), could be the food (water is always more enticing than food here), and it could be the sidewalks on every street.
It's apparently cool to ride a bike here. As cool as skateboarding. There will be kids skateboarding, and they will have a few kids with them on bikes. Not BMX, just regular bikes. Looks like you're especially cool if you have high, "chopper" style handlebars.
People wear jeans if it's under 115°. Wearing jeans when it's over 115° would be rediculous because to Phoenicians that's too hot to wear jeans... I think 75° is too hot to wear jeans.
It's cool to dress like an archaeologist if you are really into being earthy or think it looks cool. I've seen a good bit of adults (40's-60's) wearing wool socks, hiking boots, an earth-tone shirt that you might wear on a safari, maybe a brown t-shirt instead, dark brown denim or khaki shorts pulled up really high, leather belt, shirt tucked in, and a wide-brim hat that has the chin-strap-cord-thing that hangs down like a necklace. There was a man working out at the gym a few hours ago dressed like this. He took off his hat, though.
Most thermostats (at schools, offices, etc.) are kept at around 70-80°, but the room tends to stay about 75-83°. This would be torturous to some people in the Southeast, as that's about as hot as most of our warmer days, but here that's over 20 degrees cooler than outside.
Tank-tops are common. With jeans.
Scorpions, when young, have worse stings, just like Harrison Ford said, the now senior citizen Indiana Jones, to his apparently illegitimate child he never knew about. These little things can send you to the hospital. Not non-shocking plot twists, scorpions. And they might be hiding next to your backpack at school, as was the situation with one of my friends here. Again, I'm talking about the scorpions.
Every parking lot has some form of covered parking or shaded area. Giant palm trees provide some shade, but most smaller places like banks have concrete awning-like things that are about 10 car widths long and one car length deep, covering about 10 spaces.
There are access roads next to a lot of main roads. Houses' driveways do not touch the main road. They connect to the side road, which parallels the main road, about 10 feet to the side, and every thousand feet or so, the side road connects to the main road. Never saw that before.
Almost all the roads are perfectly straight. You can see forever. The alleys and canals are, too, and you can see maybe a mile if there isn't a small hill. And by hill, I mean bump, because it's flatter here than the top of the desk where your computer sits as you read this.
Phoenix is encircled by mountains. If you aren't around buildings, or if you're on an overpass, you can see mountains on all sides of the valley. It's a bowl, quite literally, with over 4 million people inside. Or, well, it's a Wok on a grill, with over 4 million people inside.
We've had a big fire just west of where I'm teaching for 3 days now. It was probably started by lightning, which arrived midway through last week (about Wednesday) as part of the monsoon weather pattern that happens every summer here. It did not rain, but there was a huge lightning show for a night, and now we can see where the fire's burning... anywhere in the city, you just turn in a circle, until you see a column of smoke that looks like a GIANT tornado. It usually goes straight up and merges with the clouds. Judging by the look of the smoke, it's being put out, as it's thinner today, but it was 2,400 arcres burning the other day. And I'm serious about being able to see it from everywhere. It even blocked out the sun for our area for about an hour yesterday, and the sun coming through a quite literal cloud of smoke looks neon pink. Very strange. OK, just one more descriptor... it looks like a volcano is erupting in the West Valley with the way the smoke goes straight up and then spreads into a cloud. It's actually really cool. And hot.

First week complete!

2008-06-28T12:15:00.004-07:00

I'm tired.

So tired.

And stressed with all the deadlines-for-everything-and-information-coming-at-me-from-all-directions anxiety.

But I like teaching. That's the least of my concerns. It's fun, rewarding (that's become cliche with overuse, but is still true), and I like working with my team.

I have good support, am listening to Sufjan Stevens on Pandora, and am feeling at peace with life right now.

Maybe it's the Wendy's chicken nuggets digesting in my small intestine, which is borrowing blood from my brain, causing me to feel less aware of upcoming to-do's,

but I feel I'm in the right place. Doing exactly what I should.

Having a good day. Every day is a good day.

Even if it's a stressful one.

PS- I promise to start taking and sharing pictures of the city!

What is this, a desert?!?!

2008-06-23T23:02:00.001-07:00

I walked outside a little while ago to get my hair cut. Well, to walk to my car to drive one block to get my hair cut. Had I walked, I don't think I would have fared well. As I opened the door to go outside, I felt the hot air stinging my already dry skin, the feeling I associate with the 20th minute of being in the sun, when I usually realize, "Wow, I'm getting some sun!" Well, here, I was not yet in the sun and I felt it. It's like opening a pre-heated oven and feeling the hot air as you put a casserole onto the rack. Only, in Phoenix, you step into the oven.

On my way to the parking deck, I have a shortcut that saves me about 8 feet of walking. It takes me over a small strip of baked earth, in full desert glory (unlike many of the lush, green lawns that require nightly pools of water - literally - they flood fields at night to water them), complete with a dry bone. Albeit a chicken wing bone, the little thing just seems to fit. Desert, baking sun, cracked ground, and a little dried and bleached bone. I picture I would look something like that had I walked to Supercuts. A skeleton laid out, reaching towards the nearest visible fast food restaurant - or was it a mirage? - wearing cargo shorts, a collared shirt, and still needing a haircut. "Poor guy," passersby would say in a sympathetic tone, "probably an out of towner."

"Bet he's from the South," another would say, "he just isn't used to the heat."

"But it's a dry heat," the another would retort.

"Yeah!" another would reply.

And they would all decide, as they all do, that 114 is not actually all that hot. "It's a dry heat!" they would all exclaim, smile, and then carry on with their days. Inevitably, one of them would not last the rest of the way down the block, and the above conversation would repeat.

final thoughts

2008-06-22T13:47:00.010-07:00

Tomorrow's the big day.

The last day I will wake up having not been a teacher.

For me, it's a big deal.

Typing that first line made my stomach drop a little and some anxiety welled up inside me. I keep it pushed down fairly well. Like the time I went ziplining in Costa Rica. About to allow some man to push me off a platform, wearing essentially an industrial-strength jock strap hooked to a cable, for a half-mile zip, over 400 feet in the air... I keep telling people how excited and confident I felt, all the while thinking, 'Wait, um... I'm pretty sure I will survive this, but it's really different, and I don't know what to expect in terms of how it will feel or go, in what sense I will like it (I'll explain this one later), and there's really no turning back now!' and all these converge to form a knot in my gut.

I read once about a man who was about to meet the woman he had been arranged to marry. Asked about her, he responded that he loved her. Befuddled, the interviewer asked "How!??!?" The man responded, "Because I already decided that I love her."

Before I came to Phoenix, I decided that I liked it. Before I meet people, if I can, I consciously decide I like them. And before I start teaching tomorrow, I've decided that I like it.

You'd be surprised how well it works.

When we rely on our in-the-heat-of-the-moment emotional weather patterns to determine our preferences, we wind up in a confused world where logic does not seem to correlate well with decision making. On-the-spot decisions tend to become stained by the tainted, gelatinous, gooey, gross mess that is the wavering of the mind. Feelings, such as a headache or lack of caffeine, are misappropriated with surroundings, leading to a Pavlovian-style disdain for the innocent bystander or ambiguous situation.

All this in mind, I don't want to risk my next 2+ years of thoughts about my job and students, leaving them at the mercy of how I feel on my first day. Because I already know I will be nervous. And I already know I will like teaching. I've decided it.

Thoughts on Hydration: I drink so much water here. Where does it go? I don't pee much, I don't sweat, but I drank a gallon in an afternoon. Ta-da! It's gone!

2008-06-20T23:55:00.005-07:00

Your elementary school teachers sang songs.

Little did you know, they got into groups and just sang, all the time, when students were at home. They live at the school and just sing when the students leave.

They get lonely over the summer, so they have some students come to class then, too.

And teachers don't sleep.

I believed all these things at one point in my life.

(TFA has just about confirmed the one about sleeping...)

Oh, and the one about singing! (I got these videos in about a 5-10 minute span of my day today.)

Ok, and I have to give proper recognition to one of our instructors here. April, who leads this, is an amazing teacher. I wish I could emulate her in the classroom... I know I need to be myself and find my own methods, but she is such a wealth of knowledge. And songs. And candy - a lot of it, too - to keep us awake during lessons.

And, as I close, I have to admit two things:

1.) I am too tired (a week of 5am - 9pm business) to be deep or funny.

2.) Um... this is hard to admit... but I actually really like all our songs. And... um... I think all of us do.

thinking

2008-06-14T22:12:00.000-07:00

As I read a letter from one my students’ parents at the end of the school year, I want to hear several things, mostly about how I was the best teacher in the universe and how I have, through one child, changed the world. Realistically, what I will read is probably more on par with “Thanks for the great year! Johnny really liked your class and I know he learned a lot.” I may know, as a matter of fact, that Johnny hated my class and is happy to no longer have strict Mr. Williams in his life. But what I would love to hear, words I would truly and honestly cherish, involve a genuine and heartfelt thank you for having cared, tried, and strived to pull greatness from children who had long ago been tagged as devoid of any potential. I want to be the person who drills for oil in a field long since abandoned, convinced untapped reserves of potential lie just beneath the surface, waiting to be reached. Whereas I am not foolish enough to believe that every student will like me or love the fact that I expect a lot out of him or her, I do believe the most loving thing I can offer any of my students is a high expectation: belief in his or her potential, seeing the ability to attain significant results, and I can thereby better the future of each individual student.

That, my friends, is what I want to hear.

...but it's a DRY heat!

2008-06-14T09:47:00.003-07:00

Sat

108°F | 79°F

Sun

110°F | 81°F

Mon

110°F | 79°F

Tue

110°F | 76°F

"Photos from today," or "We stole Sean Morey's Super Bowl ring"

2008-06-12T21:16:00.006-07:00

That's really it!

And that's really me holding it!

Pics from the flight

2008-06-11T21:39:00.004-07:00

The beginning of the mountains around Phoenix.

Ok, ok, this one is from Hilton Head. In the Marriott, where I wasn't supposed to be, and the security guard stopped me asked me to leave. But look at that picture!

Pinnacle Pete's

2008-06-09T23:12:00.004-07:00

After a long day of sitting in a suit, preparing for an interview, and not getting one, I was about ready to go to bed. I'm not depressed, just still very, very tired from traveling. Some new friends here at Teach For America Induction were going to look at apartments, so I joined, and then we all went to a restaurant called Pinnacle Pete's Patio, and... well, I thought I was in line for the mine train ride at Disney. The old western facade mixed with the very real but comically cartoonish in connotation giant cacti standing around, holding their arms up, and the amazing red rock mountains surrounding seemed, in a word, unreal. The temperature was perfect, the sun setting behind the rock formations, and on played the Jimmy Buffett-esque musician on stage... and I didn't have my camera! So, please forgive me for this intensely unforgivable blogging faux pas, but I've collected some pictures from google images just to share a bit of the Pinnacle Pete's Patio experience.

I promise to not make this mistake again.

So, without further ado, Pinnacle Pete's "Thunder Mountain" Patio:

Flight & Arrival

2008-06-08T15:12:00.007-07:00

Whenever I tell people I'm moving to Phoenix, they say
"Ooooh, it's soooo cool out there!"

Then, in a concerned tone,

"But it's soooo hot."

Then they pause, look at me like a sad little pathetic puppy and say,

"Oh, awwww, but you'll be OK. Don't worry... it's a DRY heat!"

EVERYONE says this!

What the heck is a dry heat, and how is it different?!?!

I've herd this maybe 30 times. Not exaggerating.

The second I stepped off the plane, I learned what that meant.
It's hot.

But it's dry.

It's actually OK... it's... um... well, it's a dry heat.

Maybe you have to feel it to understand.

Hilton Head

2008-06-06T23:11:00.001-07:00

Last Night on the Atlantic

Some Phoenix facts

2008-06-05T13:40:00.001-07:00

Learn more about the Valley of the Sun (Phoenix metropolitan area) and the city of Phoenix.

Thinking about it makes me thirsty...

2008-06-04T20:55:00.003-07:00

Yeah, so I've finally done it! I graduated from college, moved to Phoenix, enrolled in grad school, and am a teacher at a public elementary school. Or, I will be soon. In this blog, I'll keep track of the things I do, things I see, and what I learn about life in the West.

In less than a week, on June 8th, I move to Phoenix. I'll live in several places before I settle into my apartment and start teaching. I'll update when I can, and I'll definitely try to keep the pictures coming.

See you soon!