01022010

I brought in twenty ten with New York style. Paying $128 got me a ticket to a danceclub/lounge in the Bowery featuring DJ, clinquant party hats and decor, open bar and appetizers. I did not regret a single dollar of that price, as I thoroughly enjoyed dancing the night away with my teammate and friend, Sarah. We weren't about to stand in the Times Square crowd of tourists (New Yorkers know better) bringing in the new year with alleged iced over adult diapers. We did end up popping up from underground around 3am on our way back to Harlem to view the aftermath. The streets were a disaster zone, but the 2010 sign was illuminated assuring us we had reached the new decade, as it will be for the next 364 days.

I had a week of break, in which I traversed back to St. Louis to visit family. I ended up seeing more family than I thought, which was nice, but also gave me less time to do things with mom, since it felt like she was constantly cooking. St. Louis was a quiet lamb compared to this roaring lion of NY. I slept without earplugs and for the first time in months did not hear Jay-Z's "Empire State of Mind." I must have brought the snow with me because we had our first snowfall the weekend before I left NYC and then a white Christmas in STL followed by snow again when I returned to the city.

5 1/2 more months of City Year. We "lost" two of our teammates to various issues. I don't wish to expatiate on the subject, but I think we'll be just fine. I actually kind of missed a few of the kids over break. Don't laugh. I realized what it may feel like after I graduate from City Year and we leave Central Park East Middle School. I hypothesize that attachments will grow even stronger over the next 5 months--unless they drive us crazy. :-) Working with middle schoolers is such an overwhelming experience. It's such a tortuous path for them. They are trying to find their identity, deal with changing bodies, different maturity levels, all on top of school and home life or the lack thereof., thus making the majority of them recalcitrant little kids who do not desire to be tamed. It's hard to believe they are little kids sometimes with all their very adult thoughts and language. A fit of giggles, a hug, or the excitement in their eyes over a little thing brings them back down to their real age--as does the shock of them guessing our age: "You look like you are 40--maybe 35. What? You're 22? That's old, too. " I guess they were born in the age of botox, face lifts and lip plumpers (and most of their parents are only 7 years older).

The first time I have ever mistakenly been deemed older than I am was with those middle schoolers. I found it quite amusing and wondered if I had that perception at that age. Usually, the story of finding out my true age goes more like this: I walk into the social studies class support and there is a sub, who has a faint resemblance to Obama (besides the point). I'm the first person in the room, and he tells me to sign in. "Oh no" I half laughed "I'm not in middle school. I work here and help out in the classroom." Maybe embarrassed he said "Oh! Well, take that as a compliment." (Mmm...Not so much.) Story of my life. No, I will not sell you Girl Scout cookies.

.skh.

above picture: "the infamous Anderson," and "NYE Bowery," and "The Aftermath"