Modern day Game of "Telephone"

Perhaps you remember playing the game Telephone? The memory of that game sticks in my head like a ringing bell of laughter and enlightenment. I'm still not sure which part pleases me more. Okay... perhaps I do, but I LOVE to laugh!

I was sitting around a large campfire on Catalina Island. The stars sparkled and the trees glowed with an orangy iridescent red-yellow aura from the combined lights of flame and cities miles off.  It felt magic, as though I knew I would remember this moment for years to come. 

Our group had started with seven, but quickly grew to twelve or more as peals of laughter filled the air, enticing others to become a part of this history in the making.  The game begins as one person forms a short sentence in their mind and whispers it into the ear of the person to their right.  The rule is to be as clear as possible, but you can only say it once.  Once heard, that person then repeats the process until the last person listens, and shares out loud what they heard.  Sometimes the incongruity of the sentence repeated is funny enough, but when it is compared to the original, the ridiculousness in the comparison can be nothing short of hysterical.  When “My mother likes to ride her horse” came back as “Ronald Regan has a blue and purple purse”… I was beside myself.  

 Today I played a similar, although modern day version, of the game.

Have you ever cleaned house in your underwear or just walked around naked when no one is home?  It is such a liberating feeling, that if you have not, I suggest you do.  Several friends of mine understand this and even my own mother has admitted to as much. 

But the liberation is not complete when you fear being discovered. So, sending a text message through Siri (a voice operated dictation device on the iPhone), I was shocked and then so tickled as I read:

coming home?  I paid to be

running around naked

and get surprised.

Not only had Siri interpreted me incorrectly, the meaning was exactly opposite of my intent!   What I had said was “I’d hate to be running around naked and get surprised.”!!!

Ah Siri… between you and autocorrect I can get myself in all kinds of trouble.... and I like it!

Even so, the memory reminds me that information has its own way of living and breathing through each of us… even the circuitry of technology.

Victoria Crystal

living the SimpleSexy life of Power and Beauty

Birds of Prey or Paradise?

His face was red, either from exhaustion or frustration it was difficult to tell.  His big eyes and pleading face offered less of a clue as I watched his mouth utter a stream of incoherently garbled sounds that I can only believe to have been a string of words. 

"She... are we?... hates me!..."

I looked down at his round face and, slightly exhausted from the previous class, asked him to sit down.  I looked passed him to the rest of the students entering, smiling and welcoming them to what would today be my class.  I felt a tapping from behind and turned to see those same pleading eyes. 

Another stream of incoherently garbled sounds and I again asked him to take his seat.  I could see no blood and his breathing although coming in fast bursts, seemed sufficient.  From previous experience I knew I had only 1 minute to get the class' attention before it would take me 10 minutes to quiet them down.  It's like stopping a party in full swing, with no one thanking you for it... and then trying to teach.

"Sit!" I said with full force and watched as his face slowly turned away. 

I had had many of the students in previous classes, and as they were already prepared for my style, the class settled down rather quickly. 

I took roll and walked to the front of the class.  "Today," I said addressing the class.

"Are we working on the egg because she won't let me touch it she hates me!" came the exasperated voice.  As luck would have it he found his words and he was sitting in the front row.  Next to him, with an empty chair space in between sat a girl with an equally round face and long brown hair. 

It was easy to see that I was dealing with two slightly awkward and shy students with no real malice between them.  So I took a chance. 

"No.  We are not working on egg today.  But you know what they say about hate.  It shows only how much you care."  I leveled my gaze back and forth between the two of them. 

A certain horror flicked across their faces but as they relaxed I know I saw the faintest hint of a smile.  "Naw-aw!" they said in unison, eyeing each other narrowly. 

A boy sitting next to them from one of my previous classes started the sing-song "sittin' in a tree.  K-i-s-s-i-n-g!"  I gave him a smile and shook my head with the look that said "please refrain."   He quieted with a huge grin on his face. 

I turned back to my birds of prey.  "Then why does it bother you so much?"

I immediately dropped the subject by going back to the class to explain what assignments they would work on.   I had the boy pass the papers out. 

The class worked quietly and independently.  It was heaven. 

As they finished, I asked everyone to straighten their areas and I would let them out a couple minutes early. 

The brown-haired girl handed her book to the boy.  He took it and stacked it with the others.  "Thank you," I said as I looked at the pair, "for cooperating with each other."

"We didn't cooperate," he said. 

"I just couldn't reach the spot," she said.

"Well, you were both respectful to each other," I said as I saw them bristling for another round of explanations.  "But regardless," I added before they could speak, "you are both cooperating right now in trying to convince me that you weren't!"  I gave them a sly smile as I watched the look of defeat settle heavily on their shoulders. 

As I watched them pack up to leave, both calm and full of self-control, I was struck by the absolute belief and feeling that two souls had just become friends. 

Victoria Crystal... living SimpleSexy
www.victoriacrystal.com

David and Delilah

“I’m tired of getting 100%,” he said with sincerity. “I keep getting them.”

I looked at him and smiled. “It’s because you are so smart you just can’t help it.”

“I know. All of my teachers say the same thing.”

“Well then, you have a lot of smart teachers.”

He smiled playfully and looked at me in a way I have rarely seen… without pretense of doubt or concern.  There were no walls between us.   It was pure acceptance. My heart melted as I turned to look at the girl sitting next to him.

“Your turn,” I said as she picked up her cards.

She began reading each word and offered a sentence for each just like David* had done. When she finished, I smiled. “You get 100% too, Delilah!” Delilah’s smile quickly spread across her face, very pleased.

“Now, let’s take out your packets and you can take turns reading to me. Since David has already ready the cover, why don’t you start on the first page Delilah.” David protested mildly about having actually “read” the cover, but quickly accepted that he would get his turn soon.

We finished quickly and still had to wait for the rest of the class, so I decided to ask them questions about what we had just read. David stopped suddenly and looked at me. “You are a really nice lady,” he said with his face squished in reasoning. “I like you.”

I was in Middle School. At the same school in “Rewarding Silence” where I still have yet to share the details of 6th period… only today my experience was profoundly different.

I was substituting in Special Education.

“I like you too, David.” My heart constricted and only later, when no one was watching did I allow the tear to trickle down my face.


It was time to leave and David came over to give me a hug, standing almost as tall. “Thank you,” I said, “for having me today in your class and being so wonderful.”

“I like you,” he said.

“I like you too, David.”

Out in the hall I was told I was to walk the bus riders to the bus. “But I don’t know where the bus riders go?” I said aloud, but with the teachers trying to get everyone in their places, only Delilah heard me and she smiled.

I need not have worried because there would be four teachers walking that way together, but as I walked, Delilah slipped her arm in mine. “You can be the student now and I will be the teacher because I know the way.”

“You do Delilah? I’ll be happy to be your student!”

And in more ways than one… I was.

Victoria Crystal…. living SimpleSexy

www.victoriacrystal.com

* all names have been changed

Leader of the Band

My first instrument was accordion. Really? The accordion?

For some reason my father had it in his head that he wanted his little girl to play this ancient instrument of unknown origin (at least to me). In elementary school I moved on to the violin beginning with Hot Cross Buns and then to the finer pieces from our school play Gary Indiana. Later I played the piano, the flute, and some fiddling on my sister’s clarinet. A few years ago I tried my fingers at the guitar, but earning callouses was not my forte.

Today I had an opportunity to play the Band Teacher.

My first class was lead by two students; one cute, yet quite authoritative ruler and her all-but-silent sidekick. It was funny to watch this little wisp of a girl march up to the other students and request silence, erect posture, or assurance they understood the direction. I would have been afraid. ;~)

I was moved for my second class into a smaller room… going from woodwind instruments to brass… Huh? Note to self: next time you Sub for Middle School Band, bring ear plugs. The student teachers this time were less authoritative so I had to step in more often until I eventually led the class. I couldn’t help it. The sound coming from their direction was murderous. Asking the 6th graders to “hear the music before playing” resulted in turning the sound from nine dying cats to a resemblance of a melody I had heard before, but still could not place.

I have to admit, though, it was great fun. I never thought I would lead classes in Band as they “p r a c t i c e d” their instruments while giving them direction, correcting tempos, and reading off the notes on sheet music.

Just don’t ask me to sing…

Victoria Crystal… living SimpleSexy

www.victoriacrystal.com

Rewarding Silence

Thank you Gentle Reader for your participation and continuous encouragement along this quest. It heartens me to know you have enjoyed a smile or two with me along the way and have searched out my blog without even having told you I’ve written more.

Cheers to the possibilities and inevitability!


Being a Substitute Teacher is really interesting. So far I have been in several different schools with a new classroom for each visit. It’s like the movie 50 First Dates, only I don’t have a sweet, endearing Adam Sandler to snap me into reality. I get the snickers of “We have a Sub” and watch as a malevolent gleam grows across the once innocent smiling faces.


Yesterday was Middle School.  Last night I came home exhausted. I did manage to go for a three mile walk. I did create for myself a delicious meal. I did lose myself to the orderly disorder of a hidden object game. But beyond that, I did little more than sleep. Why I woke at 3:20 this morning though, is a mystery.

I am still recovering from my kindergarten cold and will most likely retain for the rest of my life an unnatural fear of shiny-eyed five year olds.

Although yesterday’s experience has shown me that while six years can do much to change their size, the willful spirit of independence still remains. I was told, before class even began, that one or two of the students were already expected to be seen in the office.

1st period came and went.  But in 2nd period Spanish I was told by several of the children who would come to see me again for 6th period English… to expect a room of mayhem. I looked on the sheet: “6th Period - This is my most challenging class.”

"No Sub has been able to control that class," I was told by an eager young girl just waiting for the fear to set in.  I looked her full in the face.  "Well, one did," she admitted reluctantly. 

"We are going to be doing things differently," I told the crowd.  To be honest, I was un-phased…. something living in the moment has taught me. I was in 2nd period Spanish. I had enough in front of me to deal with. No need to borrow on the fear of what might come.


Every class, so far, has some sort of reward system for good behavior. Being new and a little slow on the uptake, it usually takes me a while before I figure out how to make it work for me.

By 3rd period, I saw an opportunity to reward several of the children who were brilliantly focused on their work. There were others, though, who called out with constant clatter some of the nonsensical chatter of their 5 year old selves. I guess we can call it “reliving their youth”?

As I looked around, I realized a certain dynamic. One boy was trying his best to remain quiet even though he was the focus of another student’s taunting. Rather than reprimand the noise maker, I rewarded the boy. I then also rewarded a few I believed could get out of hand but were currently acting respectably.

“Ms. Crystal,” the loudest chatterer called out.

“I only respond to quiet hands.”

He raised his hand and I walked over.

“”Yes?”

“Can I have one of those fake coin thingies if I’m good?”

I looked at him. “I can tell it has been difficult for you to remain silent, but if you can do that for the rest of the class, I would love to give you one.”

Within seconds his demeanor changed and he became a model student.

The other chatterers slowly, but perceptibly, calmed their noise. It wasn’t that they were also asking for coins as much as the energy in the room had made a shift. My shift. And I liked it.

But 6th period was a different animal altogether…. I could have offered one hundred fake coin thingies and I do not beleive it would have worked. 

But now I need to begin my day. I’ll have to share that story later.

Victoria Crystal… living SimpleSexy

www.victoriacrystal.com

Remain CALM... and assertive?

When you look in their faces, the ones that shine with glimmering and eager eyes, you could never guess how much willful independence (and the desire to express it) there is in a child.

Always one to challenge myself to add new meaning to what it means to be alive today, I have decided to try my hand at Substitute Teaching. After all… what could possibly give us a better understanding of what it means to be human than to watch and learn from those who are entering this world and working to live within it.

I must admit, I was cocky at first. Not only did my friend with his new teaching degree suggest it would be an excellent experience for me, but I had worked as a parent-teacher in many of my children’s class rooms. I had done yard duty, snack sales, corrected papers, handed out assignments, chaperoned on camp trips, dealt with errant behavior, and raised two children of my own. Substitute Teaching would be… fun!

My first assignment was going to be a breeze. I accepted a half day as a kindergarten music teacher. Music is something I love to see at a school because it is a creative outlet all children should become familiar with, even if they have no dreams to pursue it.

I walked into the classroom greeted by 20 little chairs arranged in a perfect semi-circle. It was so neat and orderly I felt a little thrill for my day. As no children were yet present, I made myself familiar with the environment. Adorable little tambourines, notched wood cylinders to rub with a stick, and xylophones were neatly placed in the drawers. Awesome! I thought as I envisioned the little noises they would all make.

It wasn’t long after the first children arrived that daydream bubble burst.

The perfect semi-circle quickly eroded to a snaking line of chairs that were fast becoming weapons. Cries of personal ownership and affection for already occupied chairs dominated the sounds in the room. When I untangled two children from one chair, I turned around to find four more just like them. I knew the turf war could only last so long before a few would break into tears.

I looked to the door. Wasn’t anyone going to help me? Surely the noise had already escalated to the level it could be heard three blocks away… and these children had just come in! But, as I later learned, this was the Teacher’s break time. So long as I didn’t come out of the room screaming, they were fine with it.

Since chairs became my first obstacle, I decided the chairs needed to go. All of the kids could sit on the floor. “Okay everyone!” I called out. “We are going to put the chairs away!”

There is always a helper in every group. Today’s helper came from a boy I’ll call Nathan. As I extracted chairs from extremely possessive five and six year olds, Nathan took charge of stacking them up. I was grateful at first until I noticed he had already (with the aid of other helpers) stacked them too high and they were dangerously about to fall over. I ran to the other side of the room in an effort to keep children safe and almost knocked a few down. Quickly I began un-stacking the stacks and peeling off children who were still trying to sit on them.

I realized I needed to get their attention and some order. Feebly I looked to the door. It remained stoically shut.

Exercise, I thought! These children have too much pent up energy! I’ll let them do jumping jacks!

Little arms and legs were soon given the permission to flail freely and, to my utter dismay, I watched as they flailed into the heads, arms and legs belonging to bodies that were not their own. Before I could stop it, mock fights broke out as little boys did jumping jacks into one another.

Have you ever poured lighter fluid on an already flaming fire? Yeah. It was like that.

To be honest, I have no idea how I did it. I think I was momentarily possessed by an Angel because the next thing I remember was seeing them all to sit down to look up at me. It was bliss… but as I looked around, I knew it would not last. The fires were still burning.

Music! I am here for music!  A faint recollection of my earlier daydream came to mind.  “Okay,” I said quickly rearranging my plan. “Who wants to be in a band and perform for the class?” The whole class raised their hands and many stood to walk up to the front. “No, sit,” I said thinking of my mother’s dogs. Remain calm and assertive.

“Only three of you at a time. I’ll chose only the ones who are being quiet and patient.”

As I looked around the room at the writhing bodies and heard the nonsensical stream of pleas, I knew they while they had heard of these words “quiet and patient”, they didn’t really understand them.

I chose three students. Then three more. Then three more. “Okay. Who has not had a turn? Raise you hand.” The whole class again raised their hands and a few stood to walk up to the front.

“Nathan, you’ve already had your turn.”

“No I haven’t,” he said with pleading, brown, sorrowful eyes. On some level I could tell he believed what he was saying.

Again I looked around, completely drained. 20 children with raised hands were looking up at me and… to be perfectly honest I could not be sure who had --- and had not already come up. What tiny amount of strength I had left was quickly evaporating. In the time I took to consider what I was going to do, half of the class was already up and pulling instruments from the drawers and away from each other.

I could feel it. I was giving up. They could have the room. I’ll take a corner.

And then it happened.

I looked up and felt like I was experiencing a mirage in the dessert. The door opened. A… a… an adult?

The Teacher called to her class over the noise and little bodies ran to the door. Some little bodies. Not all. Some were still pulling at instruments.  I looked at her slightly chagrinned. “I’ve never taught…” the word hung in my throat “kindergarten before.”

“It takes some getting used to,” she said mechanically as she scurried her children through the door. I looked up at the clock. A mere 30 minutes of my life had gone by and I was already whipped. I had three more hours and five more classes to go.

It was with a loss of pride when I later realized that what I had taken as a look of empathetic sadness on the faces of the teachers picking up their students after Music class was really the look of bitter disappointment at getting their classes back in such scandalous dysfunction.

It was later still when I managed to salvage some pride at having learned and applied a few things for my final class for the day.  It was to NOT allow the fire to start in the first place and I admit I was just a little pleased with myself when the last teacher walked in to a perfectly quiet room with a look of shock on her face (she had no doubt heard about the dismaying results from the other teachers).  Instead of walking into a room filled with screaming banshees, her children were paying close attention as I read them a story about a frog who wanted to sing.

As my day came to an end I was hoarse and aching.  I went home to go to sleep and woke up later with a cold.

It was then that I decided... kindergarten is too big of a dragon for me to slay. I, who have not been sick for several years, am finally recovering from that day over a week later.  But... Tomorrow I have my first Middle School. It should be fine…. right?

Victoria Crystal… living SimpleSexy

www.victoriacrystal.com    down

I've been a bad girl...

I know. But rather than beat myself up over it… which I refuse to do… I’ll make my excuses, apologize, and move on.

With the holidays, traveling once again, rearranging the website, restructuring plans, and fine-tuning gazettes, I have left my blog to abandon. I forgive myself and ask for yours as well.

There. All better.

I have been immersed in gathering information from many different sources and it is truly a thrill to find more and more relating theories to add to my bubbling philosophy for Power and Beauty.

Over and over again the message is the same. Over and over again there is a call to action.

My favorite part is incorporating the differences of each individual. Allowing an artist, construction worker, analyst, and industrialist to springboard from same techniques for success.

Mayan Galactic Signature: (connecting the electromagnetic forces)

The Rhythmic Red Moon of universal water is guided by itself and complimented by love. It is a day for organizing to produce a clear message. Water is a universal solvent, something I love to consider when recognizing we are mostly made of water. With water continuously “dissolving”, it allows for continual change.

Cheers,

Victoria Crystal… living the SimpleSexy life of Power and Beauty