Friday, July 17, 2009

Greetings! Yes!

It is I, Hannah, Queen of the Universe and Conquerer of Many Small Children, Redhot & Blogging you from a bed barely three inches off the floor! Yes, in my lovely new sublet at 49 Admiral Street in good ol' New Haven, I sleep on a mattress that is what I can only describe as the absolute perfect height off the rug below. It's on this wooden crate-type item, and it makes me feel like some sort of mendicant monk or artsy troglodyte. Here on this cute little bed, I am a new woman: low-maintenance in an earthy kind of way, utterly practical, and very very cool. As you can see, summer has already changed me.
AND I mention the small children because, though you may think you know me as the shamefully gung-ho chick who sends you far too many e-mails, these days I pass my waking hours between the four-to-six walls at New Haven Reads, a non-profit book bank that provides free one-on-one literacy tutoring services for local kids. Children, I have learned, are out of their tiny minds. On Thursday, little Jaylen and I were drawing with colored pencils. I drew a sunshine. He promptly told me that Jesus lives in the sun. I asked him, who told you that, Jaylen? He said, But don't talk to the bad Jesus; he'll kill you. (Well, I suppose Jaylen does not speak with semicolons. The child can barely read.) I said, oh, and we moved onward with our lives. 
But the calm never lasts – not when your name is Hannah and you have a tendency to hum quietly (or not so quietly) to yourself. HANNAH MONTANA, they shout, joyously, as though they have finally found me after so many years of waiting, wondering, and watching my sitcom on the Disney Channel. HANNAH MONTANA HANNAH MONTATA! Do they actually believe that I am, in fact, that beloved icon of the torn identity of twenty-first century tweens, or is it some other instinct that causes them to shout her name every time I speak my own? For my second tutoring session with little Jennie, she arrived clad entirely in Hannah Montana gear. I thought it was just the t-shirt until she stood up and the full horror of her outfit was revealed to me. Why, I asked. She couldn't really put it into words. 
So, snapshots, snapshots. I miss singing things with you people.

Bon soir,

Hannah

Thursday, July 16, 2009

DEAR REDHOT

I hope that you are all having delightful summers and that none of you have gotten speeding tickets or been attacked by large bugs. I am pleased to report that I too have been spared such treatment by the St. Louis police and the insect kingdom. I have been spending the past eight weeks working at a graveyard, which is just as freaking awesome as it sounds (unless you were thinking it was not awesome, in which case you are mistaken). Fortunately enough I've been blessed with a corpse-like pallor and a morbid sense of humor, so I fit in well with both crowds (the quick and the dead, if you will. And oh, I will). The program ends in two weeks, but I'm actually going to be staying on in St. Louis for a while after that. Then I'll be running one of the projects I've been designing (archiving and digitizing the cemetery's historical documents) from home when I'm in KC first semester.

In other news, I saw Harry Potter mere hours ago and remain practically incoherent with joy. I will also be seeing it tomorrow night and the next night. Possibly every night until the END OF TIME. I still nurse a long-standing grudge against Hermione, because SHE'S NOT EVEN THAT SMART SHE JUST STUDIES A LOT AND IF I WERE AT HOGWARTS I WOULD DEFEAT HER HANDILY WITHOUT EVEN DOING HALF THE READING. Luckily my rage is slightly mollified by the glorious presence of Draco, who never fails to show up well dressed for his various angsty failures at being evil. I love him. I love him forever. I should stop writing this before I embarrass myself further. Although really WHO CARES OKAY THE HP BOOKS ARE AN INTEGRAL PART OF MY BEING AND I WILL NOT BE MADE ASHAMED OF IT.

But there shall be no more shouting! I have been spending most of my free time reading madly, as is my way. Sometimes I drink wine. I have been forced to prepare my own nourishment, which also means I must shop for groceries. I will let you in on a little secret: I possess neither money nor culinary skills. Thank god I have been training my palate for years in anticipation of this very scenario! So I eat pasta every night. Sometimes I vary it up with white rice. I used to eat fruit too until I realized how many used books could be purchased for the price of one giant carton of blueberries. Also the grocery store is like a two mile walk from the apartment and I am lazy as fuck.

Okay that is all! I miss you all madly etc etc and wish you success in all of your endeavors.

Love,
JESI
Now, a post I should have put up a few days ago. Most of it, embarrassingly enough, is excerpted from an email I sent to my dad and my step-mom this afternoon, but I want to share my experiences with you guys, too, so here it is.

I'm sitting at my desk in the Heinemann offices biding my time until my supervisor assigns me another project. As is often the case, I've exhausted my list of things-to-do before she expects me to, despite frequent coffee breaks. Luckily, I'm moving to the Editorial Department next week, so I'll soon have a fresh list. So far, I've been working in the Professional Development department processing contracts and helping the department prepare supplies for the frequent seminars they offer with their authors and other educators. Fortunately, Heinemann is an incredibly organized and well-run business--better than any I've worked for so far, so I've been nothing but pleased with and impressed by the projects around the office. Heinemann (as I've no doubt explained to many of you) is a publishing house that publishes books written by educators for educators, so it seems to be the perfect place for me to be this summer, as I'm considering both education and publishing as career options for at least the first few years after college.

On to the more substantial part of my post. Before starting here on Monday, I spent two weeks doing service work in Haiti which is, as I found out, Melinda's "motherland." It was a spectacular experience. My team divided our time between two separate schools, both teaching the kids and working with/training the teachers. I spent the first week teaching preschoolers in the morning and rotating classrooms in the afternoon, working with health, writing/journaling, music, and recreation teachers. We moved to a different school for the second week and I filled in for the recreation teacher on our team, who had returned to the States. The schools themselves were astounding. I was shocked and appalled by the conditions at the first school, where thirty students were crammed into rooms meant for ten and fifty into rooms for thirty, where all the children had two spoonfuls of rice and beans for lunch, and where the teachers and students alike were amazed and delighted with the blocks and ten-piece puzzles that we presented to the preschoolers. They had never seen such contraptions before and a group of five teachers ended up taking all of 20 minutes to put the puzzle together. It's obvious that they need learning aids of all kinds, as their classrooms are completely bare and their skills underdeveloped. Their reading and writing programs are doing well, but it's difficult to run a successful science program without teaching aids. In health class, we struggled to explain to the middle-schoolers what bones and the human skeleton were, as many had clearly never heard discussed the human anatomy before.

Still, whatever I saw at the first school was completely outdone by the second. This school had two rooms for 300 students, and ended up running four classes in one large room about the size of the Branford common room. You can only imagine how difficult it is to keep kids on track when they have the distraction of four teachers all working at once. At lunch, the students were served a plain hamburger roll, and on one day, only got four crackers. During the school year, the school offers three such "meals" a week, often the only food the kids get that day. The other school, thanks to a fundraising effort by one of my team members last year (aptly named"The Fifth Day") is fortunate enough to be able to give the kids lunch five days a week.

Needless to say, it was an eye-opening experience, and I could go on about it forever. It was clear that the kids and the teachers alike were grateful for every second they got to spend with us, and they desperately needed the supplies (pencils, chalk, paper, crayons, posters, et cetera) we brought. The truth is, I've heard about the situation in these third-world countries before, but I could not have fathomed it until I saw it happening. The group that I went with also ran a clinic down there, and in two weeks saw a few thousand patients, from a 13lb five year old with a throat infection to a lady with a football-sized tumor growing on her hip to a baby so dehydrated that, despite their efforts, it died within hours. Unfortunately, most of the population is poor and, with a 72% unemployment rate, has very little hope of income, so the people just go without even the most basic medical and educational care.

As you can imagine, the trip gave me something of a new perspective on my life here. I had planned to apply for a Fulbright to study the foundations of Jhumpa Lahiri's writings in India next year, but now I'm rethinking my options there. I'll still apply for all of the other jobs I had considered, but it seems rather selfish to propose such a project for the Fulbright when, in truth, my main motivation is the chance to go to India. So now I'm researching options for educational service work in India, Haiti, and Rwanda. Who knows if anything will come of it, but I do hope it will!

That's all for now. Hope to hear from more of you soon.

Love,
Brady