Category Archives: Escuela

Escuela, Familia

Brainfood

I’d spoken to several parents and emailed a few, but Marta[1] was the first parent I’d met in over 4 years working at [science program].

Jorge, a junior, was one of our rising stars. Along with several other students, he was presenting his research at a national conference in Anaheim. Marta, who lived locally, attended the community day portion of the conference on the final day.

I got to Jorge’s poster first. Rather than talk about his research, which I wouldn’t understand anyway, we discussed his experience at the conference. His mother stopped by mid-conversation. He introduced us before turning to the woman who was there to judge his poster.

I had a short conversation with Marta. I learned she was from Guadalajara and had a couple other children who looked up to Jorge.

“You must be proud of him,” I said in Spanish.

She replied enthusiastically, and then confided that she wasn’t sure what she did to get her son to UCLA. Even her family wanted to know her secret.

“¿Qué le diste de comer?”[2] they’d ask.

I smiled at the thought of Marta feeding Jorge a heaping plate of talent for math and science coupled with a tall glass of ganas.

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Escuela, Política

A different kind of PSA

The bad thing about having a TV and watching it is that invariably I’ll come across political ads. Most are just annoying, but some of them are pretty awful. For example, when I was in Nevada a few weeks ago, I saw one of Sharron Angle’s commercials during the UCLA v. Texas game. The end of the anti-immigrant ad called Senator Harry Reid “the best friend illegals ever had.” It made me feel sick (or it could’ve been the cigar and cigarette smoke in the casino).

Anyway, this message from Danny Oso’s little brother, Eddie, makes me a bit more excited about get out the vote efforts and the upcoming election. Danny writes:

My little brother wanted to get involved with the midterm elections. I ony helped him with some facts and editing the video. He wrote and drew everything himself. Please make sure you vote!

If you’re not yet registered, go here. The registration deadline is coming up!

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Cultura, Escuela

One of these days…

I’m going to get back in to danza.

***

I attended the SACNAS conference in Anaheim. I was there primarily for Job2 in which I do research on undergraduate and graduate students in science, technology, engineering and math (STEM). Students and co-workers from Job1 were there too and it was a nice opportunity to get to know them better even though I’ve known some of them for 4+ years now. I really enjoyed the conference and it made me even more excited for my dissertation.

The conference ends with a pow wow open to conference attendees as well as the public. Even though I was tired from a long day of traipsing around the Anaheim Convention Center and learning more about STEM education (in practice), I decided to stay. I like pow wows. I love the dancing, drumming, beautiful and intricate regalia, the representation of a rich cultural tradition and an opportunity to buy all kinds of beautiful jewelry.

I had the most fun at this pow wow, even though there were no frybread vendors, because I joined in on the dancing. I even tried to do what I remembered from my danza days during the intertribal.

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Escuela

This is for the freshmen…

It’s the last week of August which means (a) students all around the country are beginning the fall term or getting ready to, (b) all my friends who teach and work at colleges are lamenting the end of summer, and (c) most importantly, my birthday is right around the corner.

This also means I’m almost done meeting 100+ freshmen and getting them prepared for the fall quarter which begins in a month. My summer won’t be officially over until then, but I don’t feel like it ever really started as summers tend to be busier than the fall, winter and spring terms. (And I’m swamped with my own academic work… yeah, I’m still working on that PhD.)

Since I think I’ve learned something after 6 years of working with hundreds of college freshmen, I thought I’d impart a little advice.

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Cuentos, Escuela

Sola

I moved in to the dorms on August 3, 1998, well before the start of fall quarter. I’d been admitted to a summer bridge program for “disadvantaged” students. The experience was great and really helped me have a strong transition to college, but it wasn’t easy at first.

The Monday morning I moved in, Danny drove me to campus. He brought along Lori and Adrian to help. I don’t remember why my parents didn’t go, but it was probably related to work and the fact that few days later they’d be on campus for the 1-day parent orientation. Still, they weren’t missed at the moment. The siblings were more than enough help.

Once I’d checked in and received my key, we took my stuff up to my room on the third floor of the north wing. The floor was already busy with other students and their parents moving in.

I don’t remember if Lily had already arrived at the room. The details aren’t scribbled in my old journal. I do know she was in the room before we finished moving and the siblings left. Lily was one of several students from Garfield HS in the program. She left to lunch with some other students from her high school.

The siblings stuck around a little while, but soon they had to leave. I walked them out. They hugged me and wished me luck.

When I returned to my room, all that waited for me were a few boxes ready to unpack. I sat on the bet, a bit overwhelmed and feeling lonelier than ever. And I cried.

***

Every summer for the past 4 years I’ve gone back to dorms about once a week to meet incoming freshmen for work. I was up there this morning, admiring how “the hill” — the residence hall area — has changed. After my meeting, I walked over to the shiny, new Bruin Café and had a drink. I pulled out the Adrian Tomine book Sean lent me and got to reading.

Except for the newness of sitting in the Bruin Café, sitting by myself at table didn’t feel strange. I wasn’t embarrassed or terrified of it as I was on my first day at UCLA. I didn’t know anyone and didn’t want to eat at a table alone. Rather than go hungry, I bought a sandwich from the convenience store on the hill and ate in my room.

I still feel alone sometimes, far from my family, but I’m more comfortable with it. I’ve become quite independent and there are times when I relish in those quiet moments.

But there are still times when I want nothing more than to be back in Hacienda Heights with the parents and siblings. Invariably, those are the times when I get bad/sad news and just need a hug.

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