day one

Dear Desert Dame,

I have cut out roughly 45982374 tiny shapes from construction paper today. My right hand is no longer functioning. I severely underestimated how much preschool teachers need strong scissor wielding skills. It’s resume-worthy, really.

The babies kiddos students come tomorrow for their first day of school. EVER. I’ve spend the last two days prepping the classroom; cleaning, organizing, sanitizing, cutting, hanging, decorating. Somewhere between getting a Fantastic-induced (seriously, this stuff is terrible) headache and reading about separation anxiety, I made this connection which had for some reason gone grossly overlooked. We will be starting from scratch in this classroom, how perfectly terrifying! Everything from hand-raising to chair-sitting to quiet-being, letters, shapes, patterns, sounds, all of it, potentially brand new to them! In this moment of fatigued revelation I think quietly, “OMG WHAT AM I DOING.”

Here I am, with 22 little souls ready to march into my classroom tomorrow with their new shoes and socks and lunchboxes filled with organic milk and gluten-free cookies! How on earth does this work? They’re gonna be walking out of this classroom at the end of the year able to write? READ? I don’t believe it.

And then my bleach-soaked brain wandered to you. You’ve had day one already. You’re in school to be the teacher’s teacher! You’re preparing to be the master, the DOCTOR of something. I have to know; how is it going?

transit museum

I’ve decided as a part of my two weeks off of work I am going to play tourist in my own city, and as such deemed Wednesday the day I would visit the New York Transit Museum.  I know, I know. Why with literally hundreds of museums to choose from, would I choose to spend seven dollars to learn about busses and trains? Hear me out.

Coming from the Midwest I am entirely fascinated by widely used mass transit.  In LA, as you know, the metro was inconvenient and accounted for transporting only a very small portion of the city’s residents. Here, the subway system is historic, intricate, mysterious and is the main mode of transportation for nearly half the city’s residents.  How did they tunnel under the river?! Why don’t we all worry about it collapsing?  Is mob activity really the reason the MTA is going bankrupt? (a fascinating rumor) So many questions, I knew only a museum dedicated to the subject could hold any answers.

It did not disappoint. Upon arriving, I tried to enter though the main building, which had signs plastered everywhere for the entrance, only to realize that I had to go down into an actual subway station to get to it, go figure.  The story of how the subway system came to be draws lines from the urbanization and industrialization of the time, is tied to race and class issues, union formation, and the overwhelming increase of immigrants coming to NYC.  Tunneling under the river was one of the most dangerous jobs because the air pressure below the surface is 100 pounds per square inch and with air that compressed tiny cracks in the rock above the tunnel would form leaks which caused the compressed air to sneak out and water to rush in, creating a vacuum which sucked up the men working and dragged them through 15-20 feet of muck and sand before sending them flying into the east river! And many of the men who experienced this survived! I’m a nerd!

The museum also had examples of train cars from every era, featuring ads from the times that were listed above. Cars used to be made of wood, and benches covered in yellow rattan. Gah, they were so much prettier then. But riding them also left you with a 8% chance of getting smashed to smithereens when they derailed or collided. Trade off.

Next time you’re here we’re gonna ride the six train past it’s last stop, because supposedly when you do, you get to see the original (now unused) city hall stop, the crown jewel of the Interborough Rapid Transit Company.  Cool, huh?