Taking the Brewery Route

So it's official. I've paid the $1000 non-refundable deposit and I'm apparently going to brewing school next year. The good news, well, actually, other than the tuition it's all good news. But the good news is that now we have to be on an intensive brewery research program. So some people might take the scenic route. But from here on out for us, it's the Brewery Route. We're headed to Monterey for four nights next week and our first stop will be Peter B's Brewpub. We'll see as much as we can and begin our adventure in beer. Not a bad field to research, you have to admit. I'll let you know how it goes. :)

Promotion... Again?

Do you ever look around at the world and see things that seem crazy and yet everyone seems to be going along with it? And you think... I can't be the only one seeing this. I can't be the only one that thinks that. Either everyone goes along with really absurd things sometimes or I really have a very different perspective than most people.

I teach at a middle school (7th and 8th grade). Every year, the 8th graders have a "promotion" ceremony. This is what it looks like. They take their final exams a week before the 7th graders. So let's say it's a 10 week term. 8th graders take their final exams on Thursday and Friday of week 9. So for all of week 10, they have no academic work. Their grades are turned in and it's up to the staff to keep them somehow busy. Why even come to school? Well they have the fear of God put into them by the administration about the forbidden "unexcused absence" (which just means the school wouldn't get paid... though the state stops counting ADA - average daily attendance - on April 15th, but I digress). So week 10 was a 4 day week due to Memorial Day on Monday. Tuesday, they have promotion practice. Well we have 4 teams promoting and they each need about an hour. So that leaves 5 hours for teachers to figure out something to do with them. On Wednesday, they go on a field trip. But many stay behind and it's 6 hours to figure out what to do with them. On Thursday, they promote. They buy expensive, fancy, often inappropriate-dress-code-violating dresses and shoes. They get their hair and makeup and nails done. Families take the day off work and desperately seek coveted and limited tickets. And all to see their kids move from the 8th grade to the 9th grade when it's nearly impossible not to move from the 8th grade to the 9th grade, no matter how hard you try. In addition to this, many 7th graders play in the band during all 4 promotions and so they miss their final exams on Thursday and have to find a way to make them up. Which usually means a teacher giving makeup exams on their prep the next day. Then 8th graders are signed out by their parents and don't return to school on Friday, because now it's apparently ok to have an unexcused absence.

Is it really worth it? Is this really what parents want? Everyone I talk to seems to think it's absurd. But they all say you can't do away with it because people would go crazy. And it's not just 8th grade promotion. No. There's preschool graduation and kindergarten promotion/graduation and 6th grade graduation and high school graduation. At some point doesn't the frequency of these events diminish their meaning? I'm not trying to be a total scrooge. Celebrating life's milestones is nice. But you can't NOT move from the 8th grade to the 9th grade. Trust me. Well it's really hard. And if people don't like these things, the only way to get rid of them is to act as a group. Because you can't just be the one parent that sits your kid out. Then they feel really bad that they've missed this artificially created special occasion. Hallmark creates holidays just to sell cards. I can't figure out who got the promotion/graduation snowball rolling. I just wonder if I'm the only one that thinks it's all a bit too much.

Mr. Mile the Inventor

More Mr. Mile. More Family Life (Sex Ed). So, the day after Mr. Mile makes his fish story description to describe the growth of a penis during an erection ("It grows by a MILE!" - arms stretched as wide as he can reach), questions come up, ( hee, hee... ok, so teaching middle school makes one think like a middle schooler) about nocturnal emissions (wet dreams). Questions also come up during menstruation talks about tampons and pads. I try to simplify, demystify, and generally take away all taboo-ness (?) from all topics related to reproduction and the human body. So I just compare tampons and pads to bandaids. You use a bandaid to keep blood from getting on your clothes. You use tampons or pads for the same reason. No big deal. So Mr. Mile jumps in at this point and says that "boys need the same invention." I ask him to clarify since I don't know why boys should need tampons or pads. And it's better if you let them explain, trust me. He says, "No, boys need bandaids for nocturnal emissions (thank you for using the correct terminology, Mr. Mile). You know? So there's not the gross mess to deal with in the morning." Well then. We'll see. So if you see this invention on the shelves one day and it's successful, you know who had the idea first.

Heckler

Ok, so it's not really a heckler, but still. Someone that I don't know commented on an earlier post that I wrote. Initially I felt annoyed because they didn't really seem to get that I was joking and that I was being ridiculous and that I knew I was being ridiculous and that I was just making fun of something to vent and make a silly social commentary. But then I stopped and realized that I was happy because I had a critic. Which means someone out there saw something I wrote, read the whole thing, and actually thought enough about it to reply. Who cares that they didn't get it (maybe I'm not very good at making a point) or that they really didn't agree at all with me, it's just cool that someone read something I wrote. It must feel both very scary and powerful to be a writer. I mean, there's always going to be someone who doesn't like what you say or the way you say it and when they tell you, it must hurt. But at the same time, to have people read your words and think about your thoughts... that's an exciting form of influence. So, anyway, I'm happy to have a heckler.

Mr. Mile

So part of my duties as a middle school science teacher is to teach "Family Life" (sex ed) to 7th graders. It's the most wonderful time of the year (Ooh, I'll write words to a song for that!). Truly. I love it. The kids are horrified by half of what they learn and I really believe it helps them decide they are not ready for sexual activity. And I believe it really is important. Most of these kids really don't have much accurate information about their bodies or about consequences of what they decide to do with their bodies. With the internet, kids have access to way too much adult content way too soon in life. Even if they aren't looking at it themselves, their friends and classmates are and they're all talking about it. You can't keep them away from it completely. So I hope it's clear, that even though I may joke about the funny things that happen during family life, I truly take it seriously and believe that what they are learning is vital.

SO, here's my best story so far this time through it. Some of the kids are terrified and embarrassed and won't ask a single question. But some are really brave and daring in their questions. Makes you wonder if they are just trying to get attention or if they're really as knowledgable as they sound. So one girl raises her hand and says, "Does the penis grow for a males' entire life?" Now I can't respond with all of the things that pop into my head. I have to say, "No. About the time a male is done growing as tall as he will, all growth stops, including the penis." She says, "But it grows during an erection." And I say, "Yes, but even that is not true for all males." What I don't say is "You're either a shower or a grower." I do say, "An erection can change the size of the penis a lot or a little. Everyone's different." So she looks a little surprised and says with a bit of astonishment, "How much does it grow with an erection?" And before I can say anything, the boy in the front row right in front of me bursts out with, "BY A MILE!", with his hands thrown out to the side as far as he can reach as if he's telling you about the biggest fish anyone's ever caught! Everyone instantly bursts out laughing, me included. This is why I love teaching Family Life.

To Brew or Not To Brew?

So I'm a middle school science teacher and am in my 11th year of teaching. I know I don't want to teach forever and will definitely need another career one day, but have never been able to figure out with certainty what that next career will be. Nothing calls to me with absolute passion. Three years ago in the middle of another layoff season, I looked into a nearby brewing program. I didn't apply, but should have because I did apply the next year and found out there was a two year waiting list (if that makes sense). So about ten days ago I received a letter saying I've been accepted into the program and had two weeks to decide if I will attend and give a $1000 nonrefundable deposit to hold my spot. Decision time.

The program costs $15,000 and will go from late January to mid-June. I would have to take a leave of absence from work and miss 4 months (basically half the school year). And then there is a three day test given once a year. It's 3 hours, 6 questions each day, all essay. The pass rate is not super high, but it is for people who go through this program. At the end, if I pass, I would still need to go back to work as a teacher for a couple years while I figure out how to affordably transfer into the brewing industry.

I know it sounds like a lot of expensive and loss in income, but there's a reason it's not quite that much really. My husband is wanting to switch into the food industry somehow and was going to have to quit his job and go to a culinary or wine or beer school eventually. It would cost as much if not more than this program and he wouldn't have a job to go back to as I would. Me going to this school would make it so that he didn't have to because the goal would be for me to teach him everything I learned and then have him take the test the next year. Then we'd both be certified brewers. He could move into brewing and eventually the goal would be to open our own brewery and he'd be able to do the food. When I lay it all out like that it actually sounds less scary. Writing this may be helping me make this decision.

So, to brew or not to brew? It's a risk. But we only get one shot at this, right? Ideally, it would have happened in four more years as both my kids would be finishing middle school (at my school) and moving on to high school where I envision they'll need a little less of me. But it's here now, and the guy that wrote and runs the program and wrote the books the program and test are based on is like a million years old and this chance won't be around forever. So, I decided to write this to get a little feedback to help me make the decision, but I think I made if for myself! I'm definitely doing it! Well, probably, you know, unless I don't. :)

Definition of Persistence

So we went camping a couple weeks ago. It was the first time our family of four has been camping in a long time. Like since before our separation. It was good. We just went somewhere nearby to test it out. You know: do we still know how to assemble our tent, can I still handle sleeping on the ground, will I be too cold, blah, blah, blah. We got a beautiful spot on the East side of Folsom lake with hardly anyone in the campground. So, good. Set up camp, had smores, went to bed late, slept under the stars... all good.

So in the middle of the night, through a sleepy fog, I hear my husband talking to someone. Now, if I haven't accurately portrayed him before, he's generally not the most relaxed and friendly guy. I mean, he can be, and when he is, he really is, but I think he would generally be described as a moody grump. But, I here him and he sounds like he's on an episode of Sesame Street or stoned. Neither of which were true. He's saying, "Oh stop it, no don't do that, you silly thing... Are we going to have to do this all night? Really? No, not that! Ok, seriously [then laughter]." I'm thinking: who's he talking to, wait, what do I care, he's happy! So then he stumbles back into the tent, in only his underwear mind you, sees that I'm awake, and says, "Raccoons". Ok. Cool. Raccoons in the campground. He says they were trying to get into the bear box (yes, we locked up all our food), but they couldn't and he's scared them away.

So, not two minutes later, we hear the unmistakable sound of a wooden cabinet door being jostled back and forth. Guess the raccoons haven't given up. At this point, our daughter awakes, so we both say, "Come on, want to see raccoons?" So the three of us get up and go check it out. Sure enough, two raccoons: one in the bushes and one on the cabinet. As we come out, they scamper away and we take the opportunity for a bathroom break after admiring how adorable they are. Back to the tent.

Quiet for two more minutes, then this time, the rattle, rattle, rattle of a wooden cabinet door, followed by the crinkle, crinkle, crinkle of a bag of food being ferociously grabbed. Seriously! Ok, so this time the three of us go out and now there is a raccoon literally wrapped around the corner of the cabinet like a starfish on a juicy clam. He was actually a rectangular shape. His arm was wedged deep down into the cabinet through a crack in the door and he was goin' for those what turned out to be graham crackers like it was the depression. Even after being poked (gently prodded) with a marshmallow stick over and over again, he wouldn't move. Ever see Aliens? It was like those face sucking egg laying aliens. That thing was not coming off. We used this opportunity to tell our daughter that THAT is what persistence is.

So anyway, we cut the ziptie on the cabinet, drag the food into the tent, (I know, bears, but there weren't suppose to be any and my husband was determined raccoons wouldn't tear through the tent), and try to go back to sleep. After hearing the raccoons stalk us for about ten minutes and having to drag my comatose son's legs up onto the cot to get them away from the edge of the tent and the ravenous and quite definitively persistent raccoons, we sleep.

And in the morning, what I took away from the whole thing was: my daughter got to see cool wildlife and my husband was able to remain cheery through what could have been deemed an annoying situation. It was a good night.