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Title: The Dream of a Ridiculous Man
Category: full of life
Blog Entry: In C.I., some of the students call me El Segundo Veniendo. I don't encourage it, but they keep flipping out that I seem to teach in what they see as parables. Third Grade A.D.D kid has to be seated alone because he's distrubing all the other kids, so while they're doing their assignment, I go up to him and ask, "Don't you like opening presents?" He's freaking eight years old. What do you EXPECT him to say? his face lights up. Then I tell him he'd been given a gift a long time ago that's lying around unopened: he has all this energy he's never plugged into anything and channeled--literally like a tv with nothing but snow showing or a radio left on inbetween stations! What does he ask?

You guessed it: "Do you always speak in metaphors?" By now, of course, the whole class is listening in. They can sense my self-composure in the very resonance of my voice, and the poise with which I take every step around the room.

"How do you expect to make dreams come true if you don't live the way you dream?" I asked in return. "When do you dream?"

"When you're asleep."

"When you're still," I add. "THAT is the greatest lesson you can learn: just to sit still, so your dreams can come back to you while you're awake and can do something about them."

I get fired from one school after another for doing this shit, Don. The parents keep calling for their kids, who come home mesmerized, to be put in a class with me instead of their regular teacher, and I keep submitting proposals to teach ALL the teachers how to teach this way. Teachers contact the suprintendents to find out what I'm doing and spread the tidings. The grant writer at C.I. sent a proposal to the district, and they turned HER down.

Too much trouble for them. MUCH easier just sending teachers to the usual college classes and raising the property taxes. That's what paying a superintendent a cool $325K/year does. NOTHING!

Got kids? Get off your ass, Tanto, and lead the freaking way! Me? I'm just the Lone Ranger. Dropped off a play last night at the Bayway Theatre in East Islip. I'm doing what I can.

One of my twin sons, was telling me over breakfast about his mother and sister hiding their chips while driving past homeless people with Starving signs on the side of the rod, on their way to a soccer game at Giant Stadium yesterday. Catch my program on Channel 20, 6:30 tuesday mornings in the Hauppauge and Brookhaven cablevision systems on Learning & Communication skills. I've submitted numerous proposals to the Lobor Dept and organizations for the homeless to teach everyone how to not just get into the system, but rise in it. Some asshole in Pittsburgh was on the cover of Inc. Magazine a year ago, with a story titled, "What One Man Can Do," about a school he started to get the downtrodden into the system, and now all the bigshit minority people are backing him to go nationwide. So people can get jobs drawing blood and drilling holes. Yes, that's better than being homeless, but I've been trying for two years to inculcate REALLY enabling people to DO What Another Man Can DO, to no avail. He might have to actu'lly SHARE some of the spotlight.

But I push on. See, Don, when I answer questions like my sons', about whether WE are the bourgeoisie, they half cry for the rest of the world, and have these shit-eating grins on their faces, like my students get because they feel like they can go on trying "to make it better," like Carlos Santana is singing in the next room.

Eldredge Cleaver laid it down: Either you're part of the solution, or you're part of the problem, man.

Clasione dudn't see that yet. Shake the sonofabitch! He's a good guy, but his head is on ass backwards still.

Whadaya say, man? REAL simple: which side are you on? You with the assholes, or ready to tear down the walls and kick ass. Straight up, man. MAKE Clasione get ALL the site people together and get all the rst of the people together, instead of just stuffing their fat faces and wallets!

Like I said: show you the article, yourself, if you like. WE ARE ALL GETTING FRIED WITHIN 4.5 YEARS IF WE DON'T STOP THEM, ANYWAY! Got any kids? No? WANT any? AT WJAT POINT AR YOU GAWNA UNFOLD THOSE 40 OZ. BASEBALL BATS IN FRONT OF YOU IN THE PICTURE, TAKE THE SHADES OFF, SPIT, AND PUT YOUR DUKES UP? Or are you just a pussy with some hormone therapy and don't mind being slapped around for the rest of your life, so long as you can make rent?