Life in Brentwood. Yes, Indeedy.

I started a new teaching assignment last week: 60 sixth graders in two classes. They’re an energetic, fun, and talented group and I like them all very much. I’m happy to have the job and finally feel up to being an actual teacher in charge.

It’s had its rough moments, of course, behavior-wise; this is a talky group and they are also pretty snarky with each other. It’s stuff we’re working on. But all-in-all, I’m enjoying it and making the transition pretty well (from an emotional perspective).

There was one moment, however, this morning that took the wind out of my sails. While signing the weekly attendance verification forms in the office, one of the assistant principals asked to speak with me. The upshot was that a parent had called to complain that I had told the kids about having a partner. The offending phrase was uttered during the day last week when I took time out to introduce myself and have them introduce themselves to me. The phrase was, “My partner F——- and I have been together seven years and we have a 12-year-old beagle.” No other information related to this was given; I didn’t use any other words than “partner;” certainly not “gay” or anything like that. There was no advertorial/recruitment for the impressionable little 12-year-olds to come over to the dark side.

Nonetheless, this single phrase generated a hot call to the assistant principal, who was then put in the difficult position of having to promise to talk to me and then having to talk to me. She is very good at what she does and we had a good conversation, agreed on several things, and left it at that. Beyond that, I won’t say anything else about the conversation, except that it was pleasant and not a problem.

But.

It still takes the wind out of my sails. Our relationship is recognized by the state (mostly) and we’ll file a joint state tax return in 2008. Yet here comes the harassment. I’m glad there was no demand for my head or resignation or firing or “get my daughter out of his class” or any of that. But parents talk to each other. As do the kids. I know that at least two of my students now know what a “partner” is, and I know there is the potential that the parents do as well. By this one phone call about a single, honest, two-second statement, there is now a sword of Damocles over my head. While the administrators would back me up, well, when parents get angry and then say the magic word, “lawsuit,” well, let’s just say school districts don’t go to bat for their homos. I’m not paranoid, but I don’t like this.

Still, I told the truth to my students when asked an honest question. It’s a principle that I teach and expect my students to uphold; I can’t be bullied or scared into abandoning when things get unpleasant. We’ll see how this shakes out. Most probably, nothing will happen. But my wind is up, as the Brits say.

(Cross-posted in the Teach and Love blogs.)

Overheard in Baghdad

«This joke» is, according to the IraqSlogger website (the new endeavor by illustrious former CNN-er Eason Jordan), making the rounds in Baghdad:

‘A driver is stuck in a traffic jam on the highway. Suddenly a man knocks on his window. The driver rolls down his window and asks, “What’s going on?”
“Terrorists down the road have kidnapped [the Boy Emperor] and [the Boy Emperor’s Minder],” the man says, “They’re asking $100 million ransom. Otherwise they’re going to douse them with gasoline and set them on fire. We’re going from car to car taking up a collection.”
‘The driver asks, “How much is everyone giving on average?”
‘The man responds: “Most people are giving about a gallon.”’
—IraqSlogger

Just in case repeating this one might earn me a visit from the O.S.S., I repeat that IraqSlogger wrote it, not me. The sentiments expressed are not necessarily my own.

Contrails in the Moonlight

While soaking my weary joints in the hot tub tonight, there was a beautiful, round full moon directly overhead. As I lay steeping in the 103-degree heat, clouds of steam swirled up into the sky and the last leaves on the tree in the front yard fingered out the light from the streetlamp; it was very movie-esque.

Looking back up at the moon, a passing jet, high up on a jetway (perhaps a Delta flight from KHNL to KSLC?) passed by just below the moon. The moonlight was trapped in the contrail left by the jet. It was a gorgeous scene. I managed a picture of the moon, but had to Photoshop-in the contrail and jet … but at least you get an idea of what a beautiful night it was:

Jet Contrail Photo Thumbnail

Jet contrail in the moonlight | Brentwood, CA | 22:33 1-Jan-07

Pleasant dreams.