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Monday Thoughts

Monday 12 February 2024

School Thoughts

We received a new student on our team today: a fifteen-year-old boy from Central America who doesn’t speak a word of English and has not been in school since the first grade.

I have reservations.

I’m not fussing about any extra work entailed by having such a kid in my classroom. I’ve already got two complete-non-speakers and a fourth kid who barely speaks English. My reservations are about how effectively I can really help these kids. They are, of course, in my lowest level classes, which means there are a lot of behavior issues in those classes. I’m supposed to create a new curriculum for these boys because they’re so low with their English that modified materials don’t do anything for them in my class. In science, yes. In math, certainly. In social studies, a qualified yes. In English class, though? It’s impossible just to modify the curriculum. This newest student is illiterate in his first language: I can’t modify my curriculum that includes standards like “Determine one or more themes and analyze the development and relationships to character, setting, and plot over the course of a text; provide an objective summary” and “Determine the figurative and connotative meanings of words and phrases as they are used in text; analyze the impact of specific word choices on meaning and tone, including analogies texts.” You can’t do this with pictures. Besides, I struggle teaching the native speakers these things because of their low motivation — teaching a non-English-speaking student with the aid of pictures? Not going to happen. So I’ll have to invent a curriculum for these boys.

Is that type of teaching really in these boys’ best interest? Wouldn’t a part-time immersion with classes like gym and art coupled with a couple of direct English instruction courses be more effective? The people at the district office downtown will say, “No, the data don’t support that.” But I think that’s bullshit. I know from my own experience in Poland that dumping me into an environment where I didn’t speak the language without any direct language instruction would have only frustrated me, and that’s with me being 22 years old at that time. If I were only 14 in such a situation — forget it.

Parenting Thoughts

The Boy’s church league basketball team had their last game this evening, which sadly they lost 22-30. It was a tough season: they went 1-8. But it wasn’t the losing that bothered the Boy so much; it was the unsportsmanlike conduct so many of the players on the other teams exhibited. Tonight, for example, there was one boy who screamed at every shot attempt our team made in an effort to distract our boys.

I had some choice words to say in texts to K about this kid’s behavior.

“Just keep your cool,” she gently reminded me.

“Of course — he’s just a kid,” I replied. But that type of behavior doesn’t come from nowhere. Either his parents never tried to correct him because they saw nothing wrong with it, or they actively encouraged and/or taught him to behave like that.

Were I to coach such a kid, I’d tell him and his parents, “Look, if you do that, I bench you for the quarter. You do it again, it’s for the rest of the game. And every time after that, it’s for the rest of the game.”

The Boy’s inherently empathetic outlook on things means such behavior would never enter his mind. Was that something we had to teach him? I guess we did, but I don’t remember doing so, and I suspect his empathy would lead him not to do that even if we didn’t explicitly teach him that.

Win

Saturday 27 January 2024

The Boy’s team finally got their first win of the season today, and the Boy scored.

Basketball

Wednesday 17 January 2024

The Boy’s team is in the midst running drills when I walk in. They’re going one-on-one from the top of the key. When it’s his turn to take the offensive drill, he dribbles in, picks up the ball quite far from the basket, and tries to lob it over the defender. An air ball. And I can see the disappointment and disgust in his face.

He heads back to the backcourt line (I think that’s what it’s called) and stands in line for his next turn, but he seems to let anyone in front of him who wants to take an earlier turn. And there are plenty who want to.

Eventually, he drifts into the background as others excitedly take their turns, and he ends up leaning against the wall and watching the others. He pulls on his hoodie and sits down.

Later, when they’re scrimmaging, he does the best he can with the knowledge he has, but the truth is, we never watch basketball so he’s got nothing to imitate. And I really know very little about the sport, so I’m of little help to him. He does his best, but it’s clear the other boys have had lots of experience playing basketball in their neighborhood.

“I never get passes,” he’ll say later in the car. “Because I’m just not as good as they are.” All he sees are his deficits, and the lack of inclusion from other boys confirms it in his mind. When he does get a pass, it’s like he wants to get it out of his hands as fast as possible.

It’s tough to watch: I can certainly relate. I was never that confident when I found myself playing basketball, and I hated playing with those who were much better. I, too, felt I was out of my comfort zone.

But the Boy soldiers through, going to each practice, giving it his best show.

“I admire you for that, buddy,” I tell him on the way home.

“Thank you,” he says, then adds after a moment, “I don’t think basketball is for me.”

Saturday’s Adventures

Saturday 6 January 2024

On the way to the basketball game, the Boy makes a comment about how many churches are around, and then turns the discussion to religion, remarking that Jesus has been dead 2000 years and has still not returned.

“Two thousand years is a long time,” he suggests.

I simply agree.

He continues: “How do we even know that all that stuff happened?”

“What do you think?” again trying to remain non-committal.

“Well, they say they were there,” he suggests.

“How do we know that?”

“Because that’s what they wrote.” He stops to think about it for a moment and then asks, “But how do we know those documents are authentic?”

The short answer is, we don’t. The Gospels, despite the purported authorship the Bible affixes to them, are anonymous. Those names — Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John — appear only in documents from the third or fourth century if memory serves. But I say none of this. Instead, I simply respond, “That’s a very good question. What do you think?”

“Well, all the Christian scientists trying to prove that are biased. They want to prove it.”

For a moment, I think, “Wait, how did we get onto the topic of Christian Science, but I realize quickly what he means: he’s referring to apologists and Christian New Testament scholars who consistently make the arguments that support Christianity, explaining away the problems like the one of the gospels’ anonymous authorship. But his point is very salient: apologists are indeed biased. They are not seeking truth as much as seeking ways to buttress Christian belief, and many skeptics suggest that apologists are almost exclusively preaching to the choir, so to speak, giving believers answers to questions they might have rather than providing skeptics with evidence to overcome their skepticism.

These are all very good questions that will lead to some answers that might lead the Boy away from church teaching, but I am trying my best not to provide any answers.

We get to the game and immediately see what we’re up against: a bunch of guys eighth graders who are enormous and merciless. They tower over most of our boys.

Their brutality comes from the coach down: They begin applying full-court pressure in the second half when they already have a significant, and they would only begin doing that (I think) because their coach has instructed them to do so. Every time the opposition scores, the coach whoops and hollers like it’s the greatest comeback in history. The final score is 13-22, and I hear the say to his team, “That was okay, but you missed a lot of easy baskets.” Translation: “You beat them badly, but you should have beaten the —- out of them.” At least that’s how I interpreted it as an objective observer…

Game 2

Saturday 16 December 2023

The Boy’s team is now 0-2, a depressing start.

Today’s game was rough: it wasn’t that we were outplayed, but none of the boys could buy a basket.

Basketball Practice

Wednesday 1 November 2023

The Boy is playing basketball with his church team again this winter. This year, he moves up into a much wider age bracket — middle school players. So there’s up to a two-year difference between the boys on the team.

He looks much better than he did this time last year, but he’s still unsure of where to go, what to do — how to play the game. The other boys are aware of his inexperience as well: there’s a wide range of skill levels on the team. And of course, the Boy is aware that they are aware. I find myself wondering how this affects his self-confidence in the game. He said nothing about it on the drive back home this evening, and that’s a good sign. Still, we have to start going back to the Y for practice again.

Practice

Monday 16 October 2023

August 13, 2020

When the Girl decided she wanted to play volleyball, when she tried out for the team as a sixth grader and didn’t make it, when she became really determined, she’d come ask me, “Padre” (She’d started calling me that by then) “can we go out to the front yard and practice volleyball?” I’d toss her balls, simulate spikes, help her practice running for balls — all the basic skills someone of my eager volleyball means could help with given our lack of a net.

At some point, she asked me for the last time to go help her practice. I didn’t realize it was the last time she would ask me, and to be honest, I don’t know if I even agreed to it. She might have asked, and I might have made some kind of excuse. Or maybe we went and practiced one last time.

She hasn’t asked me to do that in years now. She probably never will again. The last time, passed without knowing, fully past with complete knowledge.

So when the Boy asked if, instead of swimming tonight, we could practice basketball, I agreed. I didn’t really want to: I wanted to get some serious exercise in the pool. But he’s that age: how many more times will he ask? When will be the last time?

Last Game of the Regular Season

Saturday 4 February 2023

The Boy had his final regular season game today. Coach had him in the entire first quarter, and he got a rebound that he put back up for a basket.

That’s one basket a game for the last three games.