Although we are a small community of 450 people we do not lack very many things. There are two grocery stores here and most catalogues offer COD. We also have internet, cable, satellite and any other entertainment (save a movie theatre, bar, or dance hall... shoot we dont even have a restaraunt... who am I kidding?) that you could conceive of having in your home. We even have our own radio station!!
This particular radio station plays an encredible amount of Canadian content that tends towards the older lighter of the Canadian artists. The station also has one special feature that sets it apart from any other radio programming that I have ever encountered: it has a direct-to-air phoneline. Sure, in the south you can call into the radio station, talk to the DJ and get your request or comment aired BUT there is ALWAYS a delay from the time you speak to the time it is aired and there is ALWAYS a DJ to monitor the content. This is a CYA (cover your ass) approach that radio stations use to ensure that only preapproved positions, comments, and material makes it onair. It wouldn't be conducive to loyal fanship or solid sponsorship for a conservative station to be broadcasting radical messages. That being said there is no such delay on the radio station here in Qik... there isn't even a DJ.
For the most part though the lunch hour consists of consecutive birthday wishes and choppy old Canadiana. "Happy Birthday! happy birthday! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!"-- insert one verse of a Gordon Lightfood classic here -- "Happy Birthday! happy birthday!!! HAPPYBIRTHDAY" --30 seconds worth of Neil Young here -- "Happy Birthday!!!" and so on... and so on. There are also promotions and community announcements. I have come to understand that everyone has the radio on at all times because EVERYTHING including gossip makes it onto the air.
A couple of weeks ago the lack of delay or DJ became very apparent. Just before I arrived in this community one of the worst culprits for domestic violence was injured at work and had to be air lifted out to Iqaluit. I was sitting in the office enjoying my lunch and listening to the radio when a song was interrupted by a man yelling on the radio. This yelling went on for about ten minutes. Within that time one of the Inuit staff had returned and I asked her to translate. For all I knew it could have been an important news update. She listened intently for about 30 seconds and started laughing. It was the wife-beater calling in from his hospital bed in Iqaluit warning all of the men to stay away from his woman. He consistently calls alternately shouting and crying for about 10 minutes daily.
There are a great deal of uncensored bits of human emotion that make it onto the radio of which I have not yet become accustomed to. For example, I was standing in the Co-op Store on Tuesday doing a bit of "banking" (something I will discuss in a later post) when I heard a woman uncontrollably sobbing on the radio. The line up took about 20 minutes and she sobbed the entire time. I asked what was going on when I got to the teller and she explained that it was a woman from Pangnirtung that was upset.
The community rabble rousers also use the radio as an outlet to conjure up public outcry. Sara, the mother of my student DJ has used the radio for just this reason. She has a daughter in my housemate's grade 6/7 class. The daughter is your typical pretty, dramatic, ego centric preteen girl. She went home one day last semester saying that she hated her teacher because she was unfair. The mother went on an anti-Kullenuk (white person) radio campaign calling for the resignation of my roommate. The school community, knowing how unwarrented her radio escapades were, supported my roommate. The entire issue has since blown over with Sara looking like a jerk and my housemate coming out on top with her community involvement and overall great work with the kids.
Had you asked me previously I would have been all for uncensored radio. If you ask me now, I would say that radio censorship is entirely necessary and we are better for having it... you would say so too after listening to a woman weep for a solid hour.
j
Friday, March 28, 2008
Friday, March 14, 2008
PARENT TEACHER NIGHT!!!
yes, it's that time of year again... the time that good students relish and poor students fear: PARENT TEACHER NIGHT - Where all your dirty laundry gets aired to your parents so that you cannot lie any more.hahahahah
Having walked into this job a little over a month ago with a group of students that refuse to write anything down I am sure you can imagine the creativity with which I conjured up my marks. To be fair, I worked with a lot of the previous teacher's marks. I made sure my room was clean and orderly. I bought stale cookies at the Co-op Store and put them on a plate to make people feel welcome. I even put on nice pants which is a huge change to my baggy jeans and running shoes that are a necessity to keep up with my class.
I currently have 22 students enrolled in my class and lastnight I got to meet 9 of their parents. BOY, I now have a better idea of where exactly these kids come from... wow. It's typical, I got to meet most of the parents of the kids that are doing very well in class: the parents that are involved and active in their children's lives. I did, however, get to meet two of my problem kids' parents. Oh man, what a treat! I have spoken about Justin, the boy that refuses to lift his head from the desk, well his mom teaches grade one at the school and we've spoken several times. Lastnight was the first time that she saw written records of his marks and a file of work that he wrote his name on but refused to do. She theorized that perhaps he should be sitting next to his best friend instead of a girl because he hates girls and maybe that's why he's refusing to do ANYTHING at all. I said that I would take that into consideration. I cannot remember a time when I was so disgusted with the opposit sex so as to let their very presence affect my learning... but then again I was never a 9 year old boy.
Near the end of the night I got to meet Joanasie's mom. Joanasie is a fireball that vibrates with energy that he cannot disapate. He literally sits and incessantly thrashes his head. He runs around the room and when you try to look him in the face he rolls his eyes up so you cannot ever make eye contact with him. I am without a doubt positive that he would be medicated if he were attending class in the south. He is a loose cannon who can be very agressive at times. He is also very unpredictable. His mother is a meek woman that looks like her life has been hard up to this point. She is missing several teeth, smells badly of cigarette smoke (it's not as though cigarette smoke ever smells good), and she struggled with her English. I sat her down near the cookies to make her feel welcome and opened Joanasie's report card. I offered to read it (which is usually the option that the parents take because it is easier to listen than read) but she declined. She then proceeded to struggle through my block printing. She only paused once, not taking her eyes from the card, to lean to her left, lift her cheek and fart loudly. Still without raising her eyes, she made a stink face and waved the odor around with one hand. I would like to now emphasize my incredible self control. I sat there. I sat there without cracking a smile. I sat there without cracking a smile and without breathing through my nose. I am, afterall, a professional HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH.... wow.
It actually ran through my head: what would I have done if I had a serious bout of gas and an important meeting with a stranger that I had to attend? Afterall it is natural, everyone does it, and it's an unfortunate result of eating that is unhealthy to supress. What would I have done? I figured that if I could not have excused myself from the room I probably would have gone beet red and apologised profusely. There is no way, not one chance in hell, that I would have lifted a cheek and waved it around.
Parent teacher night continued and I eventually put on some music to pass the time. Some of my girls came by the classroom to draw on the chalk boards. I think that the one room schools from the turn of the century had it right - give each kid their own chalk and a piece of slate and they will learn. I cannot get the girls to stop using the chalk board so when we are doing seat work, as long as they are on task and quiet I allow them to use the chalk board. A couple of older girls came in and asked me to braid their hair so by 8pm when parent teacher night was officially over my classroom had turned into a beauty parlor. My girls were braiding my hair and I was showing the older girls how to braid a fishtail braid.
And there you have it! My very first Parent Teacher Night.
Having walked into this job a little over a month ago with a group of students that refuse to write anything down I am sure you can imagine the creativity with which I conjured up my marks. To be fair, I worked with a lot of the previous teacher's marks. I made sure my room was clean and orderly. I bought stale cookies at the Co-op Store and put them on a plate to make people feel welcome. I even put on nice pants which is a huge change to my baggy jeans and running shoes that are a necessity to keep up with my class.
I currently have 22 students enrolled in my class and lastnight I got to meet 9 of their parents. BOY, I now have a better idea of where exactly these kids come from... wow. It's typical, I got to meet most of the parents of the kids that are doing very well in class: the parents that are involved and active in their children's lives. I did, however, get to meet two of my problem kids' parents. Oh man, what a treat! I have spoken about Justin, the boy that refuses to lift his head from the desk, well his mom teaches grade one at the school and we've spoken several times. Lastnight was the first time that she saw written records of his marks and a file of work that he wrote his name on but refused to do. She theorized that perhaps he should be sitting next to his best friend instead of a girl because he hates girls and maybe that's why he's refusing to do ANYTHING at all. I said that I would take that into consideration. I cannot remember a time when I was so disgusted with the opposit sex so as to let their very presence affect my learning... but then again I was never a 9 year old boy.
Near the end of the night I got to meet Joanasie's mom. Joanasie is a fireball that vibrates with energy that he cannot disapate. He literally sits and incessantly thrashes his head. He runs around the room and when you try to look him in the face he rolls his eyes up so you cannot ever make eye contact with him. I am without a doubt positive that he would be medicated if he were attending class in the south. He is a loose cannon who can be very agressive at times. He is also very unpredictable. His mother is a meek woman that looks like her life has been hard up to this point. She is missing several teeth, smells badly of cigarette smoke (it's not as though cigarette smoke ever smells good), and she struggled with her English. I sat her down near the cookies to make her feel welcome and opened Joanasie's report card. I offered to read it (which is usually the option that the parents take because it is easier to listen than read) but she declined. She then proceeded to struggle through my block printing. She only paused once, not taking her eyes from the card, to lean to her left, lift her cheek and fart loudly. Still without raising her eyes, she made a stink face and waved the odor around with one hand. I would like to now emphasize my incredible self control. I sat there. I sat there without cracking a smile. I sat there without cracking a smile and without breathing through my nose. I am, afterall, a professional HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH.... wow.
It actually ran through my head: what would I have done if I had a serious bout of gas and an important meeting with a stranger that I had to attend? Afterall it is natural, everyone does it, and it's an unfortunate result of eating that is unhealthy to supress. What would I have done? I figured that if I could not have excused myself from the room I probably would have gone beet red and apologised profusely. There is no way, not one chance in hell, that I would have lifted a cheek and waved it around.
Parent teacher night continued and I eventually put on some music to pass the time. Some of my girls came by the classroom to draw on the chalk boards. I think that the one room schools from the turn of the century had it right - give each kid their own chalk and a piece of slate and they will learn. I cannot get the girls to stop using the chalk board so when we are doing seat work, as long as they are on task and quiet I allow them to use the chalk board. A couple of older girls came in and asked me to braid their hair so by 8pm when parent teacher night was officially over my classroom had turned into a beauty parlor. My girls were braiding my hair and I was showing the older girls how to braid a fishtail braid.
And there you have it! My very first Parent Teacher Night.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Childish Behaviour and Rewarding Moments
I can only imagine what my grade 8 teacher, Mr. Cronk, would say to his wife when he got home every night from school. We had a kid called Kevin that went out of his way to be the center of attention and the bane of Cronk’s existence. Mr. Cronk did his best to spend his final year before retirement in a relaxed state of Zen but his attempts were often blown from the water in Kevin-based explosions. I know that the stories that I have accumulated in my very brief time here are out of this world and mostly unbelievable….all of which I have witnesses for.
I have one kid that is consumed daily by his vile farts that he finds unending pleasure in fanning around the classroom. He literally sits in the lotus position (or at least I think that is what you call it when the soles of your feet are together with your knees apart) rips the loudest most obnoxious farts and then revels in the reek of it in a manner closely resembling that of a treasure seeker that has found a cash of gold and madly laughs as the gold coins pour from his fingers. I suspect that he has some kind of intestinal infection based on the quantity and voracity of his flatulence. I daily have to restrain myself from telling him to go check his pants.
I have another kid that gets bullied by his very large, angry mother at home and then turns his aggression on the kids at school. He was suspended a couple of weeks ago for raising his hand as if to strike me because he did not like what I was saying. This was following his headbutting another student and drawing a nosebleed and tears. I was trying to explain acceptable classroom play behaviour when he drew his hand back. He has recently been quite good and responsive to the manner with which I approach him. He fired through a math unit that I planned and was the only student to get 100% on a difficult handout. I am pleased with the tentative progress here. He even said hello to me when I was going into my oldtimers hockey league Thursday night... which is a first since he rarely says anything to anyone in English.
Tuesday I had a fiery showdown with one of the quiet students in my class. He consistently refuses to do work, or even sit up for that matter. I probably hear 3 words out of his mouth daily since he rarely raises his head off of his desk BUT if he does I usually find him crawling under the desks of other students or standing on his desk. This refusal to do work came to a head the other day when I put my foot down: if he was too tired to do any work in computer class; he was too tired to go to gym. Strangely, when it was time for gym most days he would lift his head off of his desk and go run around with the other kids. He would often fire off three or four math questions to appease me in my work requirements. He sat out of gym once before for lack of work issues. The only stipulation he had to meet was the completion of one basic addition math sheet and as soon as he was done he could go to gym but he refused. Tuesday, I gave him the choice again: complete work and go to gym or do nothing and no gym. He chose not to complete even half of the assignment and he was kept behind while the other kids went to gym. I decided to spend my prep sitting with the two boys that did not complete the assignment sitting in the office. One boy went willingly and the boy in question threw a stark raving fit outside of the office. His mother works at the school and she was called so that the situation could be explained to her. She agreed with my decision but he refused to cooperate with her so she called her husband at home to come and get the child. At this point the tears got bigger and he began to thrash around. Due to the nature of the community, his dad walked across the street and was at the school in about four minutes. After a prolonged bout of screaming and crying the dad had to carry the child out from under a desk in my classroom. As an aside, the other kid sat quietly in the office and ate candy that the secretary kept sneaking to him so clearly I am not the meanest person in the world.
That being said there are some very rewarding moments in the classroom. Today, my roommate threw a going away party for one of the kids in her class. His mother chose poorly when she hooked up with her latest boyfriend and ended up subjecting her family to terrorization and physical abuse. While he is fortunately stuck in Iqaluit seeking medical treatment for a work injury she and her children are moving away, which is great news for the children. When he walked into the classroom this morning to cheers of “surprise!!” he began to cry happy tears. I guess no one has ever done anything like that for him; shown him that they care. This kid will leave knowing that he was a cherished part of the class and hopefully keep a positive view school. I also had some great – but not nearly as touching – moments in my classroom today. My kids understood and jumped into the math that I recently introduced. This Monday past I brought in the concept of the addition of numbers that have decimals. This was roughly received with outright protest - "TOO HARD!!!" is one of their favourite sayings - BUT today everyone worked well and understood the math. Building on some great social studies and language classes it was a great end to a wonderful day.
I have one kid that is consumed daily by his vile farts that he finds unending pleasure in fanning around the classroom. He literally sits in the lotus position (or at least I think that is what you call it when the soles of your feet are together with your knees apart) rips the loudest most obnoxious farts and then revels in the reek of it in a manner closely resembling that of a treasure seeker that has found a cash of gold and madly laughs as the gold coins pour from his fingers. I suspect that he has some kind of intestinal infection based on the quantity and voracity of his flatulence. I daily have to restrain myself from telling him to go check his pants.
I have another kid that gets bullied by his very large, angry mother at home and then turns his aggression on the kids at school. He was suspended a couple of weeks ago for raising his hand as if to strike me because he did not like what I was saying. This was following his headbutting another student and drawing a nosebleed and tears. I was trying to explain acceptable classroom play behaviour when he drew his hand back. He has recently been quite good and responsive to the manner with which I approach him. He fired through a math unit that I planned and was the only student to get 100% on a difficult handout. I am pleased with the tentative progress here. He even said hello to me when I was going into my oldtimers hockey league Thursday night... which is a first since he rarely says anything to anyone in English.
Tuesday I had a fiery showdown with one of the quiet students in my class. He consistently refuses to do work, or even sit up for that matter. I probably hear 3 words out of his mouth daily since he rarely raises his head off of his desk BUT if he does I usually find him crawling under the desks of other students or standing on his desk. This refusal to do work came to a head the other day when I put my foot down: if he was too tired to do any work in computer class; he was too tired to go to gym. Strangely, when it was time for gym most days he would lift his head off of his desk and go run around with the other kids. He would often fire off three or four math questions to appease me in my work requirements. He sat out of gym once before for lack of work issues. The only stipulation he had to meet was the completion of one basic addition math sheet and as soon as he was done he could go to gym but he refused. Tuesday, I gave him the choice again: complete work and go to gym or do nothing and no gym. He chose not to complete even half of the assignment and he was kept behind while the other kids went to gym. I decided to spend my prep sitting with the two boys that did not complete the assignment sitting in the office. One boy went willingly and the boy in question threw a stark raving fit outside of the office. His mother works at the school and she was called so that the situation could be explained to her. She agreed with my decision but he refused to cooperate with her so she called her husband at home to come and get the child. At this point the tears got bigger and he began to thrash around. Due to the nature of the community, his dad walked across the street and was at the school in about four minutes. After a prolonged bout of screaming and crying the dad had to carry the child out from under a desk in my classroom. As an aside, the other kid sat quietly in the office and ate candy that the secretary kept sneaking to him so clearly I am not the meanest person in the world.
That being said there are some very rewarding moments in the classroom. Today, my roommate threw a going away party for one of the kids in her class. His mother chose poorly when she hooked up with her latest boyfriend and ended up subjecting her family to terrorization and physical abuse. While he is fortunately stuck in Iqaluit seeking medical treatment for a work injury she and her children are moving away, which is great news for the children. When he walked into the classroom this morning to cheers of “surprise!!” he began to cry happy tears. I guess no one has ever done anything like that for him; shown him that they care. This kid will leave knowing that he was a cherished part of the class and hopefully keep a positive view school. I also had some great – but not nearly as touching – moments in my classroom today. My kids understood and jumped into the math that I recently introduced. This Monday past I brought in the concept of the addition of numbers that have decimals. This was roughly received with outright protest - "TOO HARD!!!" is one of their favourite sayings - BUT today everyone worked well and understood the math. Building on some great social studies and language classes it was a great end to a wonderful day.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Food Mail
I came to Qikiqtarjuaq prepared to eat poorly for five months because I was well aware of the inflated food prices and lack of selection. I figured I could live on canned beans and minute rice. I have now discovered that this is not my five month fate!! There is a little gem called food mail up here. It is an online service for IGA out of northern Quebec. The order has to be in by Saturday at 5pm and our food arrives on the evening plane on Thursday. The selection is super! Not only can we select from the entire M&M meats catalogue BUT we can get fresh produce, fruits, specialty soups, cheese, and pretty much anything else that you can think of. They even have incentives like a free box of tomatoes if you spend enough much money.
The food comes packed in boxes and wrapped in newspaper. You even get personal notes from the shoppers in Quebec that explain why they couldn't send the grapes or why we didn't get a certain type of soup that we asked for. It was like Christmas time in our kitchen on Thursday night. Kathleen (my housemate) said that she had ordered a "few" things and literally 20 boxes showed up hahahaha. The computers teacher, Stewart, brought his kometic (it's a dog sled that you pull behind a snowmobiel) to the airport and did us a huge favour by picking the boxes up.
If you had of asked me previously I would have told you that our kitchen was very well stocked. Kathleen did some incredible planning and packing when she came up here. She basically used her entire moving allowance to ship food and other household goods. BUT now that we've recieved our foodmail order I would have to say we are VERY well stocked!! We even have some really random fruit that is a cross between a grapefruit and an orange... it's called a pomplamo or something... all I can be certain of is that it's delicious!! hahaha
Foodmail means that we are not completely reliant on the two stores here and thank God for that!! There have been two incedents that I have experienced first hand regarding due dates and several others that I have heard of. I went shopping for some cambells canned tomato soup at the Coop. While the cashier was ringing through some of my other things I noticed that the canned soup had expired last April... now ask yourself this: how long is the shelf life of canned soup? hahahah I got a bit of grief when I asked for nonexpired soup but I did manage to get some. The second expiry date fiasco involved a bag of chips. I now know what rotted chip oil smells like and it's quite possibly equal to the smell of rotting meat. After those two incidents I asked around for tips regarding the food here. One of the teachers said not to buy anything that didn't have a due date because often the stores will rub off the actual due date. There was also the suggestion not to buy anything on sale because that means that it is expired. It's funny the Northern (the better of the two stores as far as selection and overall atmosphere) puts their BLACK bananas on sale for 50% off... so that they're only $10.00/ibs rather than the regular $20.00/ibs. It's funny to me (and my immediate family can testify to this) because I have a hard time even thinking about black bananas. I know that they're good for cooking and I LOVE banana bread but BLA!!!
It seems silly that I would have dedicated an entire blog entry to food BUT if you know me well you know that food is probably one of my greatest motivators and therefore an incredibly important aspect of my life.
The food comes packed in boxes and wrapped in newspaper. You even get personal notes from the shoppers in Quebec that explain why they couldn't send the grapes or why we didn't get a certain type of soup that we asked for. It was like Christmas time in our kitchen on Thursday night. Kathleen (my housemate) said that she had ordered a "few" things and literally 20 boxes showed up hahahaha. The computers teacher, Stewart, brought his kometic (it's a dog sled that you pull behind a snowmobiel) to the airport and did us a huge favour by picking the boxes up.
If you had of asked me previously I would have told you that our kitchen was very well stocked. Kathleen did some incredible planning and packing when she came up here. She basically used her entire moving allowance to ship food and other household goods. BUT now that we've recieved our foodmail order I would have to say we are VERY well stocked!! We even have some really random fruit that is a cross between a grapefruit and an orange... it's called a pomplamo or something... all I can be certain of is that it's delicious!! hahaha
Foodmail means that we are not completely reliant on the two stores here and thank God for that!! There have been two incedents that I have experienced first hand regarding due dates and several others that I have heard of. I went shopping for some cambells canned tomato soup at the Coop. While the cashier was ringing through some of my other things I noticed that the canned soup had expired last April... now ask yourself this: how long is the shelf life of canned soup? hahahah I got a bit of grief when I asked for nonexpired soup but I did manage to get some. The second expiry date fiasco involved a bag of chips. I now know what rotted chip oil smells like and it's quite possibly equal to the smell of rotting meat. After those two incidents I asked around for tips regarding the food here. One of the teachers said not to buy anything that didn't have a due date because often the stores will rub off the actual due date. There was also the suggestion not to buy anything on sale because that means that it is expired. It's funny the Northern (the better of the two stores as far as selection and overall atmosphere) puts their BLACK bananas on sale for 50% off... so that they're only $10.00/ibs rather than the regular $20.00/ibs. It's funny to me (and my immediate family can testify to this) because I have a hard time even thinking about black bananas. I know that they're good for cooking and I LOVE banana bread but BLA!!!
It seems silly that I would have dedicated an entire blog entry to food BUT if you know me well you know that food is probably one of my greatest motivators and therefore an incredibly important aspect of my life.
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