2002-09-29 - 1:27 p.m.
We have these things called portfolios at my school. Each year the kids are supposed to put their best work in them and the portfolios are passed up with them. In the end, the kids are supposed to have a collection of all the best work they've done over the years. I was reading the portfolio of the lesbian student who transferred to another school over the summer (and hence had to leave her work behind - one weakness of the portfolio system). As you read the following essay, keep in mind that the 7th grade teacher made no corrections, gave no suggestions, and assigned no grade.
The Best Satrday
The Best Satrday I like is The weekin Becus we can sleep lat and we can be Playing all Day in tell 11:20 at 11:20 we have to go in the hous and be a whaket TV in the ningth in tell we are sleap and we can do the thin that we like to do and will can stall at are girl frend's hous whit her mom and Dad and go to the move and whut Spiterman and other the move we can eat at the moher hous thin we can go home and go to sleep cutherdalle will that is whut I like abou the SatheDay.
In my humble opinion, the 7th grade language arts teacher should be fired because he obviously isn't doing his job. This essay was written on May 5, 2002, which means at the very end of the 7th grade year for this girl. What the hell was her teacher doing that he couldn't help her to improve? By no stretch of the imagination can she be considered prepared for 8th grade or for life with writing skills like that. And why in hell are all the lesbian students who are "out" either in behavior units where they learn fuck all, or else in the classrooms of idiots like this 7th grade teacher?
In other news ... I spent yesterday having blood drawn for tests and getting x-rayed. I don't talk much about my health ... I guess because I prefer not to dwell on it ... but in the last few years I've had several MRIs, x-rays, lots of blood tests, etc. Nobody seems to know what's wrong with me. For a long time, I was really worried about MS and the neurologist seemed to think it was a real possibility, but it seems that has been ruled out although now my doctor is thinking perhaps diabetes or maybe a circulatory problem. I hate it. There is enough stress in the world without adding being ill to the mix. And I hate feeling bad --- I hate missing school because I feel sick/tired/worn-out. It's ridiculous. Anyway, I have to go back to the doctor Saturday to get my results. My biggest fear, I suppose, is that he will say, "Well, it's none of the things we tested for, so I don't know."
Verona has a whole week of meetings in Austin. I'm happy for her because she is getting to work on the Spanish version of the TAKS, but I will miss her. It sucks living in this house alone.
Opal
