all the animals at the zoo have ponds

the life of a day
like people or dogs, each day is unique and has
its own personality quirks which can easily be seen
if you look closely. But there are so few days as
compared to people, not to mention dogs, that it
would be surprising if a day were not a hundred
times more interesting than most people. But
usually they just pass, mostly unnoticed, unless
they are wildly nice, like autumn ones full of red
maple trees and hazy sunlight, or if they ar grimly
awful ones in a winter blizzard that kills the lost
traveler and bunches of cattle. For some reason
we like to see days pass, even though most of us
claim we don’t want to reach our last one for a
long time. We examine each day before us with
barely a glance and say, no, this isn’t one I’ve been
looking for, and wait in a bored sort of way for
the next, when, we are convinced, our lives will
start for real. Meanwhile, this day is going by per-
fectly well-adjusted, as some days are, with the
right amounts of sunlight and shade, and a light
breeze scented with a perfume made from the
mixture of fallen apples, corn stubble, dry oak
leaves, and the faint odor of last night’s meander-
ing skunk.
-tom hennen

the peace of wild things
when despair for the world grows in me
and i wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
i go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
i come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
and I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. for a time
i rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
-wendell berry

My roommate just informed me that her METRONOME went off in German class today. Sigh. Music majors.
Second semester is underway. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays aren’t quite as early as they were last semester, but they seem much busier. I start at 9:05 with a long walk to Old Main–or at least as long as long walks get here at stolaf, provided you aren’t going in circles 🙂 German cinema has been interesting. We’re studying German history through films produced before and after Hitler’s reign. So far we’ve seen Caligari and a few different versions of Nosferatu. I’m a bit tired of the Dracula story–I’m looking forward to moving on to “The Blue Angel” and “M”, our next two movies. The class is interesting but time consuming. In addition to our MWF time slot, we also meet two evenings a week. On Monday nights we meet in Viking Theater to watch the week’s movie, and on Wednesdays six of us meet to discuss the film in German (the class itself is in English).
My German language class is more difficult than the one I had last semester. We’re reading nonfiction essays about Martin Luther, the Berlin wall, the economy, etc. and writing essays on a regular basis. I have the same professor I had last semester–he comes to class everyday looking like an airplane pilot. He has these big sunglasses and a black leather beret–but I think it’s the way he carries himself that makes me smile. He’s always late, because he stops to get a cup of tea on his way to class…he walks in so coolly, with a wide smile that just screams “here I am!” He’s a funny guy, that Professor Fink. I’m a fan.
From there, I have ten minutes to stop speaking German and start speaking Spanish. I still slip up and get made fun of for answering “ja” to Profesora Olson’s questions. I started taking Spanish because my Norwegian Literature class wasn’t all I had hoped for. I had planned on doing it on my own–my brother, Noah, got me some materials from his high school Spanish teacher. I’m glad I’m in the class, though. We’re moving a lot faster than I ever would have on my own. I love languages…I love words. Studying Spanish has been great for me this semester. My friend Stephen (from interim–he taught second graders with me) and I meet every Tuesday afternoon for an Espanman (Spanish/German) study session. He’s going to Germany over Spring Break, so I’m teaching him some helpful phrases in exchange for some free Spanish tutoring (he’s fluent).
My last class, first year writing, is at 8am on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I remember signing up for this class…I preregistered for it…I don’t know what I was thinking. It always feels way too early, and I’m finding that I definitely prefer the hour long MWF classes to the 90 minute T/Th classes. The class itself is interesting. It’s called Cases of Conscience, so we’re reading about the origin/role of conscience as defined by Kant and Freud, but we’re also reading plays and short stories. There’s something incredibly intriguing about conscience–I’m drawn to the subject.
In other news, I’m learning to love peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. However trivial this may seem, learning to love two pieces of wheat bread with something in between has been no small feat–take it from a girl who’d eat nothing but ketchup on a bun everyday in second grade. For the past month, I’ve eaten peanut butter and jelly at least three times a week in an attempt to develop a taste for what was previously nauseating. My evil plan worked. I want to write a letter–a letter to peanut butter and jelly sandwich makers everywhere–a letter of thanks. I’m hooked.
All this talk about pb & j is making me hungry. On that note, I’m off to dinner. I hope you’re all doing well.
Take care. love anna

pastoral
the little sparrows
hop ingenuously
about the pavement
quarreling
with sharp voices
over those things
that interest them.
but we who are wiser
shut ourselves in
on either hand
and no one knows
whether we thinkg good
or evil.
meanwhile,
the old man who goes about
gathering dog-lime
walks in the gutter
without looking up
and his tread
is more majestic than
that of the episcopal minister
approaching the pulpit
of a sunday.
these things
astonish me beyond words.
-william carlos williams

Well, I guess the snow stopped for a few hrs. It sure is a old fashioned winter. I prefer the summer better. I had to stop and answer the doorbell, they have a broken water main out at the neighbors house. I guess I have to do without a drink of water for the day. They said it should be fixed by suppertime. It is a cold day to have to work out there.
We are going over to see your other grandmother this afternoon. Jim has to drive Harry to Waconia first for a shot in his arm. I’ll go along and then we are close to Waconia. I made my famous coffee cake to take her to pep her up. This getting old is for the birds. No fun.
I suppose your mother is cooking up a storm for you two this week. Sure is nice that you can come home and bring a nice friend.
Jim is so busy shoveling snow at the post office and store and home. He sure works hard at the P.O. but they pay good. I think I will have to get a job also. I sit to much. I am getting lazy at 93.
I am so glad you like school now and hope everything goes good for you. It takes a long time to get to know so many nice girls.
I’ll see you again soon. We plan to come to Northfield some weekend to visit you.
Love and kisses,
Old Grandma Franske

hello.
you are comfy company.
thank you.
from anna

where we are
i envy those
who live in two places:
new york, say, and london;
wales and spain;
l.a. and paris;
hawaii and switzerland.
there is always the anticipation
of the change, the chance that what is wrong
is the result of where you are. i have
always loved both the freshness of
arriving and the relief of leaving. with
two homes every move would be a homecoming.
i am not even considering the weather, hot
or cold, dry or wet: i am talking about hope.
-gerald locklin

Finals were over long ago. Christmas came and went, and the New Year introduced me to more people and places than I can tell you about. It seems like tonight has been my first opportunity to put my interim experience to paper. It began here at stolaf on January 4th. I’m taking an education course this month called “Schools and Urban Communities.” It’s the only education class available to first year students. It’s an off campus program that pairs stolaf students with host teachers at Andersen Elementary in Minneapolis. There are seventeen of us in the program (mostly freshmen). Stephen and I worked with one of two second grade classes. In preparation for our off-campus experience, we spent our first week reading essays about voice and identity, oppression, and multicultural education, watching films about racism, and discussing Jonathan Kozol’s book, “Savage Inequalities”, which describes the extreme wealth and poverty in America’s public schools. From there, we packed our bags and rode the bus to the urban retreat center on 11th and Lake.
I’ve seen very little daylight these last two weeks. After a rough first night’s sleep, I got up at 5:45 on Monday morning so I could shower, pack a lunch, and have something to eat before waking four blocks north to Andersen Elementary. On Mondays and Thursdays, I attended faculty meetings with my host teacher, Ms. Rogers, which meant leaving the center by 6:45. On Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, we could leave as late as 7 and still make it to school before the kids arrived. One thing I noticed about Andersen was that the kids trickled in one by one–it took 20+ minutes for all of them to arrive.
The first 2nd grader I met was Javier. Javier is lovely. All the kids were lovely, but Javier was one of my favorites. When Stephen and I got to the classroom, Ms. Rogers told us that the kids would be coming in soon, and that they were making Martin Luther King Jr. mobiles for “morning work.” I sat down with Javier that morning and taught him how to tie knots. He was such a sweet kid. He was one of only a few who I noticed got along with everyone.
After morning work, the class met on the carpet in the corner of the room. It was during this time that Ms. Rogers introduced us to the class. We were well received. Even then I knew that second graders weren’t as intimidating as I’d feared. We didn’t have to do anything but smile to get these kids to like us. They were so excited to have some new faces in the classroom. Stephan and Otoniel became quick friends–Oto only speaks Spanish, but Stephan spent his junior year of high school in Ecuador. Oto was obviously excited to have an adult in the classroom to communicate with.
During language arts, 13 of the 22 kids in our class went to ELL (English Language Learning), where they learn to read and write in Spanish. The idea is that they’ll be reintroduced to English in 3rd grade, but that it makes more sense for them to learn how to read and write in a language they understand and have been around all their lives. It makes a lot of sense to me–except that they’re still expected to complete math problems (word problems) written in English. Anyway, Stephen went to ELL with the Spanish speaking kids, and I stayed and worked with the “advanced” reading group (those near, at, or above grade level). There were seven advanced readers in the two 2nd grade classes combined. The others went next door to work with Ms. Hanson, the other 2nd grade teacher.
Though the groups were supposed to be based on reading ability, there was a huge range even within my group. I worked a lot with a girl named Angelica. She’d been in ELL in Kindergarten, 1st, and 2nd grade but was held back at the end of the year. Because she’s already been in ELL for 3 years, she was placed with the English speaking 2nd graders this year, and she is really struggling. She’s an incredible girl–she’s the most beautiful eight year old I’ve ever seen. A friend of mine was talking about kindness one night, and he talked about the way kindness just pours out of some people. Angelica was one of those people. Kindness just pours out of her deep, dark eyes. She’s so small. So fragile. She doesn’t have the power to stop it from flowing…and that’s a beautiful kind of weakness.
Sometimes Stephen and I would accompany the kids to gym, music, and computer class. It was interesting to see the kids behave differently depending on who was standing in front of them. The computer teacher told us that our class is the most difficult to teach behavior-wise. The music teacher had the most difficulty controlling them. There were a few boys in our class on “behavior contracts,” but their pushing and shoving went without consequence in her music class.
Gym was lots of fun. Every year, the school gets to borrow several pairs of roller skates from a nearby rink. After tying several pairs of skates two sizes too big, Stephen and I joined our second graders as they skated around the gym floor without helmets or pads, many of them falling down every few feet. Even though many of them left class with a bruise or two, they were thrilled. I remember writing something in my journal about it afterwards:
“…I see these kids in a different way here in the gym–there are no language barriers. Everyone is excited here…they’re finally all on level ground…they’re finally all playing on the same game board. These kids are amazing. Nothing keeps them down…”
After school, most of the stolafers headed over to Wait House to volunteer. The other six of us stayed at Andersen to tutor fifth and sixth graders. My favorite part of tutoring was learning about the incredible lives these kids led. I helped José with math a few times…he has to get all his homework done between the time school ends (1:40) and 4:00, because afterwards he goes straight to his cousins’ house to babysit until midnight. At midnight, he walks home. Then he wakes up and does it all over again. What responsibility for a 10 year old. I see kids yawn all the time at Andersen, and you can bet it’s not AIM keeping them up until 2am. Some of these kids are growing up awfully fast.
We’d leave school between 4 and 4:30. We usually had enough time to go back to the retreat center and change into jeans before taking the bus to House of Charity for dinner. The guys who make and serve the food at House of Charity are in a program called Day by Day. Day by Day is a chemical dependency halfway house for men. Participants in the program live together, work at House of Charity, and agree to attend meetings and counseling sessions. Eating with and getting to know these guys meant more to them–and to me–than I ever thought it would.
At night, we often had speakers back at the retreat center. We had three free nights, and one night we went to see “Crowns” at the Guthrie. Though we were usually done with our day by 9, few of us had the energy to stay out much longer. It takes far more energy to work with kids all day than it does to sit through class.
Over the weekend, we left the retreat center to stay with families in Minneapolis. Emily and I stayed with a guy named Dan Jackson in North Minneapolis. He and two of his siblings live in the house they grew up in near Wirth Park. I say Wirth Park because it’s my only reference point in North Minneapolis. I had a few snow tubing birthday parties there in elementary school. The home stay was great. I had some wonderful conversations with Dan’s brother, Joseph. Dan showed us around the North side, and then we went to church with him at the First Church of God and Christ and to the 21st annual cookie bake at his friend’s house in Northeast Minneapolis. This cookie bake was the greatest idea in the world. You don’t actually bring any cookies…you just stand around the kitchen counter waiting for the next pan to come out of the oven. It’s just milk, cookies, and lots of people standing around laughing and talking. Great fun.
Phew. I think I’ve covered most of it. If any of you would like to hear more, let me know. I’d be happy to talk about it. I’ve learned a lot this month–about schools, racism, people, and Minneapolis. I’ve redefined diversity. I’ve grown, and I’ve met people I’ll never forget. On our last day at Andersen, Angelica told Stephen that I’m her best friend. We all just need a bit of love.
I ought to make that girl some mittens.
Goodnight, all.
love anna

now would be a ridiculous time to call me with that sort of news.
please pray for oma.

it’s the early am–but there’s no book to work on.
unless i start editing for christina’s copy.
thanks to everyone for helping out. i think it turned out quite well. i found a great picture of jessica simpson today that would have worked well for the “mostly plastic” caption (see page three). it was on the cover of laura fankowski’s seventeen magazine. she’s my p.o. box mate. not jessica simpson. laura fankowski. or something like that. anway, my p.o. box mate must be gone for interim. there were three magazines, two letters, and a cd in the box today, and they’ve been there since i got back. i brought them back to the room because nothing else fit in the mail box. is stealing her mail a felony if we share the same mailbox? hope not. they might kick me out of stolaf.
i ate a pretty amazing dinner tonight. i went to minneapolis with my interim class to see the school we’ll be working at. we met our teachers, visited house of charity (where we’ll be eating), and then went to dinner at manny’s tortas. tasty. but little t’s cheese enchiladas are still in the lead 🙂
i best be getting to bed, eh? good eve.