Argument Paper

     In New York State schools the most important standardized tests are the Regents exams. The Board of Education believes that Regents scores provide the best measure for comparing the effectiveness and success of schools, and thereby, teachers. On the contrary, many believe that the Regents exams only show the results of students’ performance on one test, and not their overall performance. For this reason, New York State should due away with Regents exams.

     The biggest problem with Regents exams is that students simply need to pass in order to receive Regents credit. Therefor, a student who achieves the lowest passing score of 65, receives the same credit as a student who scores in the 90’s. If one school’s students all pass with scores in the high 60’s and another school has 100 students score in the 90’s and five student’s fail, New York State considers the first school to be more effective and successful. That is clearly not an accurate measurement.

• “In a press release from January 4th, 2005, Mayor Bloomberg’s office claimed that the ‘Number of Schools Under Registration Review Schools Hits an All- Time Low of 35; 55% Reduction from 3 Years Ago’ What is not mentioned is that many of the schools on the SURR schools were large schools that were closed and replaced with several small academy style schools. For this reason, another consequence of the emphasis on Regents scores is that the larger schools are become a relic of the past, unless they can meet extremely high standards,” (Department of Education).

     While, New York State believes these tests are the best way to assess the effectiveness of individual instructors, the numbers can be misleading. It doesn’t matter whether they have a large class or small class. It doesn’t matter if one school has stronger support services then another, or better technology support. All teachers are placed on the same scale and that is not fair.

     Too often, New York State teachers are forced to teach to the test rather than use creative and outside-the-box teaching methods. While this allows teachers to create a simple, basic curriculum, it takes away their freedom to be creative and go outside the curriculum. As a result, many students coast through the year, only to consume themselves in practice Regents exams at the end of the school year in order to prepare for the test. Is that the best way to meet students’ academic needs and prepare them for the future? Does that accurately measure how successful a teacher is? Especially when low scores result in teacher’s receiving poor ratings and denial of promotions and tenure.

      In June 2008, New York State requested $7 million in the state’s budget to maintain the assessment program. This is money that can be better spent. There are too many schools in New York in need of better technology and support services, as well as increased staffs and supplies. Some schools have Smart Boards in every classroom, while others do not even have enough textbooks for every student in the building.

     New York State’s practice of administering Regents exams is an ineffective way to assess the success of students and effectiveness of teachers. The money used to create and administer these test can be better spent elsewhere.

Works Cited

            Cromidas, Rachel He, and Philissa Cramer. "Amid Sweeping Changes, State’s Testing Chief Resigns      
                 Suddenly | GothamSchools."GothamSchools - Breaking News and Analysis of the NYC Public  
                 Schools. 30 Nov. 2011. Web. 02 Dec. 2011. 

            Department of Education. MAYOR MICHAEL R. BLOOMBERG AND CHANCELLOR JOEL I. 
                 KLEIN ANNOUNCE DROP IN NUMBER OF PUBLIC SCHOOLS IN NEW YORK CITY 
                 IDENTIFIED AS "SCHOOLS UNDER REGISTRATION REVIEW" NYC.gov. News from the 
                 Blue Room, 4 Jan. 2005. Web. 4 Nov. 2011. 

            Monahan, Rachel, and Ben Chapman. "State says One-third Of city Schools Failing - New York Daily 
                 News." Featured Articles From The New York Daily News. 11 Nov. 2011. Web. 02 Dec. 2011. 

            New York State Board of Regents. BOARD OF REGENTS APPROVES ASSESSMENT COST 
                 REDUCTIONS. NYSED.gov. 22 June 2010. Web. 4 Nov. 2011. 

            Winerip, Michael. "Principals Protest Role of Testing in Evaluations." New York Times. 27 Nov. 2011. 
                 Web. 5 Dec. 2011.

My Wednesday Morning

It was the day before Thanksgiving and I was stuck in the waiting room at the doctor's office for over an hour.  It's not the first time I've fallen victim to the doctor scheduling appointments for times when he's not actually in the office.  It was clear that he wasn't there, because it was 8:30 in the morning and I had scheduled the first appointment of the day.  There were six of us in the waiting room, the same six, for the entire time.  No one got called in.  We simply waited and waited an waited.  And I just sat there, getting more and more irritated.

Finally, after well over an hour, I was the first one called into the exam room.  It took the doctor less than three minutes to give me a clean bill of health and allow me to go on with my day; after paying my $40 copay of course.

Rewinding a bit, there was a girl who was on her cell phone for the entire time I was waiting.  Of the six of us in the room, she was the only person who's voice I heard for over an hour.  There was no sign that said "No Cell Phones," but you'd think people should have some common courtesy, right?  She was definitely talking to her boyfriend because she kept referring to him as "babe", which is one of my biggest pet peeves.  I don't care how in love you are, referring to your significant other as "babe" is the verbal equivalent of nails on a chalkboard.  Anytime I ever hear anyone use that particular pet name, I want to punch the person in the face.  Ugh...

Anyway, she was making him believe that she was at work and not the doctor's office.  He was obviously surprised that she didn't have the day off because she kept saying that she was a dedicated and hard worker.  "I'm dedicated to my job, babe."  Ugh...  "Babe, you should know that about me.  I work very hard."  Ugh...

Maybe it was because I was already annoyed at her, but it made me even angrier that she was lying to her "babe."  I sat there trying to think of some way I could expose her.  Was there something I could say that would give away her current location?  I didn't come up with anything, and probably wouldn't have even done it if I had.  I just sat there, getting more and more irritated.

After leaving the doctor's office, my next stop was the mechanic, to get an oil change.  As I sat down in my second waiting room of the day, I couldn't help but notice the shrieking cries of a young boy.  I also couldn't help but notice that he was lying down in the middle of the room, spinning around in a circle, as he screamed and yelled at the top of his lungs.  His obese mother simply sat there ignoring him, a parental strategy that was proving ineffective in my opinion, but to be fair, I do not have any children.  I thought about picking up the tyke and dropping him into the well below the cars being serviced, but decided not to do that.  I just sat there, getting more and more irritated.

When the service was completed, the cashier notified me that because it was my car's first oil change, there was no charge.  Perhaps my persecution that morning had all been worth it.  As I walked outside to get my car, I looked up to see if the heavens had parted and a light was shining down on me.  Sadly, that wasn't the case.  Had it, I would have driven to the nearest convenience store and bought a lotto ticket.  Instead, I simply got in my car and drove home.

A Critique of "Testing God"

http://dmccarthy618.blogspot.com/2011/11/testing-god-george-lucas-edition.html

I have to be honest, when I first saw the length of this story I felt a little bit overwhelmed.  However, I enjoyed it very much.  You did an excellent job creating suspense and keeping me wondering what was going to happen.  The dialogue was excellent and very realistic (considering the unrealistic situation taking place).  I wouldn't change anything about the conversation between Jack and Deborah.  It was very fluid, believable and thought-provoking. You had me guessing how Deborah could possibly convince Jack to give up.  As the story began, Jack certainly had the upper hand in the situation and you did a great job slowly turning the tables and building towards the climax where Deborah was finally able to convince him to shut down the forcefield.

My only suggestion would be to maybe add some more description of the characters and environment in the beginning.  I had trouble picturing exactly where the story was taking place.  Were they outdoors?  Did it take place in the future or was it present day, where we are to believe that Jack got his hands on some kind of advanced technology?  Perhaps a little bit more backstory?  However, considering the story is very dialogue-centric, it's possible this isn't actually necessary.

Definitely a recommended read!!

Destiny

     When they first arrived it was still morning.  Hours had passed yet it was still not nighttime.  However, they could no longer see where the ocean ended and the sky began.  There was nothing but darkness, and the wind bristling through their hair was coming from that darkness.  The faint chime of a buoy was barely audible over the sound of the waves, but they knew it was still out there, bobbing and floating, alone atop the current.  There was something else out there, although what that was was still uncertain.

     The young boy gripped the man's hand tightly.  "Daddy, what are you looking at?"
     "Not looking," he replied.  "Waiting."
     The surf was nearly at their feet.  As each new wave bid farewell, the wet sand left behind inched closer and closer.  The wind was beginning to pick up and the man could tell that the boy was growing restless.  He felt the same way when he was the boy's age.  He felt the same way when his father took him to this very spot so many years ago.
     The boy began to shiver as he continued to follow his father's gaze.  Staring out towards nothing.  Although there was something.
     "It's getting colder, daddy.  We've been here forever."
     "Forever?" he replied.  "I said the same thing to my father when he took me here.  I was full of questions as I'm sure you are now."
     The boy had never met his grandfather.  He knew that he died when his father was very young, but that was all he had ever been told about him.  He wondered why his grandfather had taken his father to this beach just as he wondered why his father had taken him here on this day.
     "What we're waiting for... has been here forever.  But us?  We're just a blip.  We've barely been here for an instant."
     Cold and confused, the boy didn't know how to respond.  His father had always been mysterious and distant, but this was something different.  For the first time in his life, the boy was afraid of him.  For the first time he didn't know if he should trust him.
     "What are we waiting for?" he asked, loosening the grip on his father's hand.
     A soft rumbling sound began in the distance and grew louder and louder as the waves carried it towards them.  The boy stepped back, but his father kept hold of his hand.
     "Our family has many secrets.  Things that I have purposely kept from you for many years."  For the first time since they arrived, he looked down at his son.  "You're old enough now to know the truth."  

     A flash of lightening in the distance caught the father's attention, briefly revealing where the ocean met the sky.  Another soft rumbling accompanied the flash, and as the sound dissipated into the void, so did the horizon.
     The boy tugged on his father's arm.  "Daddy, it's going to start raining.  Can we please go home?"
     "That's not a storm.  And if we leave now, we won't have any home to go back to."
     The beach had been full of life.  People swam and sunbathed as they would on any ordinary summer day.  The sky was so clear it allowed them to see the elipse of the earth.  It was gone in an instant and took with it everyone that was there.  The darkness arrived without a sound but the wind quickly began to pick up.  The boy had turned to leave, but his father took his hand and led him to the shoreline.  They stood there for hours without saying a word.  Filled with terror, the boy now wished they hadn't started talking.
     The howling of the wind grew deafening.  They could no longer hear the sound of the ocean waves.  At first the boy thought it was because of the wind, but soon realized that the entire shoreline was gone.  The ocean was slowly disappearing into the horizon, leaving behind a darkness more striking then the sky above them.  It was not the darkness of the abyss, rather something else.  Something that began to rise.  The boy was terrified and desperately tried to separate himself from his father's grasp.
     "Try and remain calm.  It can sense your fear," his father yelled over the roar of the wind.  His gaze remained locked on where the horizon should be.
     The creature was the size of the entire ocean.  It was a site the boy could barely comprehend.  It had no defining features nor shape.  It was pure darkness and as it rose, it brought with it an indescribable sound.  A sound the boy had never heard before.  A sound that echoed deafeningly.
     Suddenly, a bright light appeared in front of them.  Almost like a doorway.
     "You will know when your time comes.  And at that time you must bring your son here, just as my father once brought me and his father once brought him.  You must be brave and accept your fate."  He released his son's hand and stepped into the blinding light before them.
     The son reached his hands out to his father, but the light enveloped him.
     He heard his father's voice one last time.  "Your destiny and mine are different than anyone else's.  You must face yours without fear, just as I am doing right now."
     At last there was silence.
     The wind stopped.
     The sky turned blue.
     The ocean returned.
     The world remained.
     The light disappeared.  And with it, his father.

My Haunted House

     Everyone always said that the old Bosworth mansion was haunted.  Over the years I've heard about curious children disappearing inside and couples being murdered while using the house as a secret rendezvous spot.  I'm sure the majority of the kids in town love to make up stories about all the strange occurrences that might possibly have occurred there.  Unfortunately, I've never been able to participate in these conversations because my family actually lives in the house.
     You'd think it would be pretty cool to live in a gigantic mansion.  There are ten bedrooms, twelve bathrooms, studies, libraries, kitchens and secret passages that take you from one room to others on the opposite side of the house.  It should be the greatest hide-and-seek house on the planet, but all of my friends are afraid to come over.  No one wants to be the next "victim".  Do they really think my parents would allow any of them to disappear?
     Some people in my position would probably become an obnoxious prick, believing they are better than everyone else at school.  However, I feel the exact opposite sentiment.  I'm embarrassed of where I live and the perception of my family.  Truth be told, we are not actually wealthy at all.  It's actually just dumb luck that my parents became the owners of the mansion.
     At the end of his life, Old Man Bosworth lived in the house alone.  He was very lax on the upkeep of the house, which resulted in overgrown shrubbery and a decaying-looking facade.  From the looks of it, it's understandable that young children would believe it was haunted.  My father, being an estate lawyer, was in charge of the old man's finances.  Over the years, they became very close and because the old man had no living relatives, my father became the son he never had.  When the old man died, he left the house to my father.  Surprisingly, the old man was completely broke at the time of his death, but the taxes on the house were paid for for the next 100 years.  This allowed my family to easily assume control of the deed.
     I'll be honest, I was a little bit creeped out when we first moved in; even after the lawn was mowed, the shrubs cut down and the outside repainted.  The house is enormous and having so many empty rooms creates a very ominous mood at night.  However, at times my old house felt just as creepy, and that was one-tenth the size.  Although one similarity between the two is that in neither one did I ever see a ghost.

Destiny (draft)

     He could no longer see where the ocean ended and the sky began.  There was nothing but darkness, and the wind bristling through his hair was coming from that darkness.  The faint chime of a buoy was barely audible over the sound of the waves, but he knew it was out there.  There was something else out there on this night, although what it was was still uncertain.

     The young boy at his side gripped his hand tightly.  "Daddy, what are you looking at?"
     "Not looking," he replied.  "Waiting."
     The surf was nearly at their feet.  As each new wave bid farewell, the wet sand inched closer and closer.  The wind was beginning to pick up and he could tell that the boy was growing restless.
     "It's getting colder, daddy.  We've been here forever."
     "Forever?" he replied.  "I said the same thing to my father when he took me here.  I was the same age as you are now.  And I was full of questions also."
     The boy began to shiver as he continued to follow his father's gaze.  Staring out towards nothing.  Although there was something.
     "What we're waiting for... has been here forever.  But us?  We're just a blip.  We've barely been here for an instant."
     Cold and confused, the boy didn't know how to respond.  His father had always been mysterious and distant, but this was something different.  For the first time in his life, the boy was afraid of him.  For the first time he didn't know if he should trust him.
     "What are we waiting for?" he asked, loosening the grip on his father's hand.
     A soft rumbling sound began in the distance and grew louder and louder as the waves carried it towards them.  The boy stepped back, but his father kept hold of his hand.
     "Our family has many secrets.  Things that I have purposely kept from you for many years."  For the first time since they arrived, he looked down at his son.  "You're old enough now to know the truth."  

     A flash of lightening in the distance caught the father's attention, briefly revealing where the ocean met the sky.  Another soft rumbling accompanied the flash, and as the sound dissipated into the void, so did the horizon.
     The boy tugged on his father's arm.  "Daddy, it's going to start raining.  Can we please go home?"
     "That's not a storm.  And if we leave now, we won't have any home to go back to."
     The howling of the wind grew deafening.  They could no longer hear the sound of the ocean waves.  At first the boy thought it was because of the wind, but soon realized that the entire shoreline was gone.  The ocean was slowly disappearing into the horizon, leaving behind a darkness more striking then the sky above them.  It was not the darkness of the abyss, rather something else.  Something that began to rise.  The boy was terrified and desperately tried to separate himself from his father's grasp.
     "Try and remain calm.  It can sense your fear," his father yelled over the roar of the wind.  His gaze still hadn't left the horizon.
     It was the size of the entire ocean.  It was a site the boy could barely comprehend.  A bright light appeared in front of them and for the first time his father looked down at him.
     "When your time comes, you must bring your son here, just as my father once brought me and his father once brought him.  You must be brave and accept your fate."  He released his son's hand and stepped into the doorway.  "Your destiny and mine are different than anyone else's.  You must face yours without fear, just as I am doing right now."
     The wind stopped.  The sky turned blue.  The ocean returned.  The world remained.  The light disappeared.  And with it, his father.

Reworking my ending... Destiny

After reading it over and over, I realized that I really hated my original ending, so I trashed it and am now trying to figure out a new one.  

     He could no longer see where the ocean ended and the sky began.  There was nothing but darkness, and the wind bristling through his hair was coming from that darkness.  The faint chime of a buoy was barely audible over the sound of the waves, but he knew it was out there.  There was something else out there on this night, although what it was was still uncertain.

     The young boy at his side gripped his hand tightly.  "Daddy, what are you looking at?"
     "Not looking," he replied.  "Waiting."
     The surf was nearly at their feet.  As each new wave bid farewell, the wet sand inched closer and closer.  The wind was beginning to pick up and he could tell that the boy was growing restless.
     "It's getting colder, daddy.  We've been here forever."
     "Forever?" he replied.  "I said the same thing to my father when he took me here.  I was the same age as you are now.  And I was full of questions also."
     The boy began to shiver as he continued to follow his father's gaze.  Staring out towards nothing.  Although there was something.
     "What we're waiting for... has been here forever.  But us?  We're just a blip.  We've barely been here for an instant."
     Cold and confused, the boy didn't know how to respond.  His father had always been mysterious and distant, but this was something different.  For the first time in his life, the boy was afraid of him.  For the first time he didn't know if he should trust him.
     "What are we waiting for?" he asked, loosening the grip on his father's hand.
     A soft rumbling sound began in the distance and grew louder and louder as the waves carried it towards them.  The boy stepped back, but his father kept hold of his hand.
     "Our family has many secrets.  Things that I have purposely kept from you for many years."  For the first time since they arrived, he looked down at his son.  "You're old enough now to know the truth."  

     A flash of lightening in the distance caught the father's attention, briefly revealing where the ocean met the sky.  Another soft rumbling accompanied the flash, and as the sound dissipated into the void, so did the horizon.
     The boy tugged on his fathers arm.  "Daddy, it's going to start raining.  Can we please go home?"
     "That's not a storm.  And if we leave now, we won't have any home to go back to."

Just Part of the Job

There’s a student in one of my Fresh/Soph classes who has crippling OCD and ADHD.  He simply cannot sit still and can be extremely disruptive during class.  He calls out, interrupts both his teachers and fellow classmates, and rarely remembers to complete homework assignments.  Sadly, many teachers have no patience for him.  They yell at him to sit down and to stop interrupting almost every period and everyday.  Unfortunately, this only frustrates him more and makes him get very down on himself.  It makes him feel like he’s a bad person.

I say it’s sad because I’ve been able to get to know him over the last two months and we’ve actually established a nice relationship. If you take the time to talk and LISTEN to him you will find that he is actually a very polite and intelligent young man.  He excitedly greets me every morning and has grown comfortable enough to come to me for help with his assignments and for advice on some of his anxiety issues.  I read a short story that he wrote and was blown away by his writing ability and creativity.

As a teacher I hope to be able to continue to build this kind of rapport with my students.  In my experience over the last 3 years, I’ve found that I’ve been able to do that with a lot of the “problem” students in the school.  Something as simple as finding a common interest and talking about it with them can completely change your relationship.  Most students just want to know that you care about them and are willing to give them your time.  That shouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience.

Revised Critical Lens

           Henrik Ibsen once wrote, “…the strongest man upon earth is he who stands most alone.”  This quote applies to characters created by both William Golding and J.D. Salinger.  Golding uses symbolism as a way to further support this in his novel Lord of the Flies, while Salinger does so in The Catcher in the Rye.

Ralph, the protagonist of Lord of the Flies, best exemplifies Ibsen’s quote because he is the last of the survivors to cling to the notions of humanity and civility.  Ralph uses the conch shell to summon and lead the survivors.  Whoever holds the conch, has the floor, so to speak.  Golding uses the conch shell to symbolize what’s left of humanity.  As the other boys turn to savagery, both the conch and Ralph, lose power.  Ralph is left to “stand alone” in his hope for morality and ability to survive Jack’s rival tribe.  Consequently, once the falling boulder destroys the conch, all hope for humanity is lost.

            While many consider Holden Caulfield a very unsympathetic character, he shows great strength in his unwillingness to conform.  In The Catcher in the Rye, Salinger uses Holden’s red hunting hat as a symbol for his uniqueness and nonconformity.  Even though Holden recognizes that it is ridiculous, and at times appears embarrassed by it, he still wears it in order to be different and stand out.  Late in the novel, Holden tells his sister that his dream job is to become a “catcher in the rye.”  Of course this is an occupation that does not actually exist, but Salinger uses the phrase to again symbolize Holden’s individuality.  As the "catcher", Holden wishes to protect children and “catch” them before they fall off the proverbial “cliff.”  In other words, Holden hopes to save children from entering the phoniness that he considers adulthood.

Both characters also experience and overcome inner struggle.  Ralph exhibits tremendous strength in his determination to resist the darkness that takes over his fellow survivors.  For example, he comes close to giving in to the evil within him after killing the boar, but is able to overcome those feelings and remain strong in his convictions.   Coincidentally, at the end of Catcher, Holden is also faced with a difficult inner struggle.  Should he allow his sister to reach for the golden ring as she rides the carousel, or should he make sure that she doesn’t fall?  By resisting the urge to help her, he has reluctantly accepted the notion of morality, thus left feeling more alone and isolated then ever.

Both Golding and Salinger use a number of literary elements to support Ibsen’s quote, “…the strongest man upon earth is he who stands most alone.”  The symbolism that both authors employ certainly makes their respective novels more powerful.

Critical Lens

           Henrik Ibsen once wrote, “…the strongest man upon earth is he who stands most alone.”  This quote applies to characters created by both William Golding and J.D. Salinger.  Golding uses symbolism as a way to further support this in his novel Lord of the Flies, while Salinger does so in The Catcher in the Rye.

Ralph, the protagonist of Lord of the Flies, best exemplifies Ibsen’s quote because he is the last of the survivors to cling to the notions of humanity and civility.  Ralph uses the conch shell to summon and lead the survivors.  Whoever holds the conch, has the floor, so to speak.  Golding uses the conch shell to symbolize what’s left of humanity.  As the other boys turn to savagery, both the conch and Ralph, lose power.  Ralph is left to “stand alone” in his hope for morality and ability to survive Jack’s rival tribe.  Consequently, once the falling boulder destroys the conch, all hope for humanity is lost.

            While many consider Holden Caulfield a very unsympathetic character, he shows great strength in his unwillingness to conform.  In The Catcher in the Rye, Salinger uses Holden’s red hunting hat as a symbol for his uniqueness and unconformity.  Even though Holden recognizes that it is ridiculous, and at times appears embarrassed by it, he still wears it in order to be different and stand out.  Late in the novel, Holden tells his sister that his dream job is to become a “catcher in the rye.”  Of course this is an occupation that does not actually exist.  Salinger uses the phrase to again symbolize Holden’s individuality.  As the "catcher", Holden wishes to protect children and “catch” them before they fall off the proverbial “cliff.”  In other words, Holden hopes to save children from entering the phoniness that he considers adulthood.

Both characters also experience and overcome inner character.  Ralph exhibits tremendous strength in his determination to resist the darkness that takes over his fellow survivors.  For example, he comes close to giving in to the evil within him after killing the boar, but is able to overcome those feelings and remain strong in his convictions.   Coincidentally, at the end of Catcher, Holden is also faced with a difficult inner struggle.  Should he allow his sister to reach for the golden ring as she rides the carousel, or should he make sure that she doesn’t fall?  By resisting the urge to help her, he has given in to the notion of morality, thus left feeling more alone and isolated then ever.

Both Golding and Salinger use literary elements to support Ibsen’s quote, “…the strongest man upon earth is he who stands most alone.”  The symbolism that both authors employ certainly makes their respective novels more powerful.

A Little About Me

When I was very young I loved to draw.  I created a number of characters and made my own comic books, coming up with stories to put the characters in.  At the same time, I also kept a notepad filled with all sorts of story ideas.  I envisioned continuous story lines that would evolve over the course of a number of issues.  Then I had other story lines planned out for when the previous ones reached their conclusions.

As time went on I realized that my drawing output could no longer keep up with the tales I was concocting.  I found myself drawing Part 3 of a six-story arc, yet writing story ideas that I wouldn't be able to get to for months.  That was when I began to see myself more as a writer then an artist.  I continued my passion for art but also started writing a lot more.  I wrote short stories and screenplays based on brand new characters.  I experimented with different genres and really fell in love with writing.

I've completed the writing portion of two children's books and have looked into how to go about getting them published.   Revisiting my original love, drawing, I am working on illustrating them as well. Unfortunately, once again, I am finding that the artwork is taking a lot more time to finish.

Not-so-Emergency Room

A few weeks ago I woke up on a sunny Sunday morning to the sounds of birds chirping, kids playing outside, the distant hum of a lawn mower, and my own scream of agonizing pain. It literally felt like something had exploded inside of me. Was I dying? Had my appendix burst? Was it just really bad gas?

I got up a paced around my room frantically. I tried stretching and doing crunches; anything to relieve the pain. Unfortunately, nothing worked. It was clear that this wasn't something that was going to simply go away. It wasn't your typical morning Charlie horse or leg cramp. This was going to require medical attention.

I called my mother and tried to explain that I was in excruciating pain, but I could barely speak. My father raced to the hospital at about 80mph. Notoriously a slow driver, I wish I could have better enjoyed seeing him race through red lights and take turns on only two wheels. Sadly though, I was fully reclined in the passenger seat, clutching my stomach. I'm pretty sure it was the first time I had cried since seeing The Lion King in the theater.

My father pulled up to the emergency room entrance, blatantly disregarding the "Ambulance Only" sign.  He dropped me off and then sped off to find a parking spot.  I hobbled into the ER, bent over like a figure 7.  Barely able to speak, I told the guy at the desk that I needed help.  He simply handed me a clipboard and told me to have a seat and fill out the paperwork.  I looked at him dumbfounded and then reluctantly sat down in the waiting area.  There were maybe three other people in the entire room.  No one appeared to be in any immediate need for assistance.  I did my best to fill out the four pages of questions and then returned it to the guy at the front desk.  Again, I told him that I was in a lot of pain, but he simply told me that they would get to me momentarily and I'd have to wait my turn.

My dad frantically entered the room and tried to explain that I needed help, but the helpful male nurse told him that there were a lot of people ahead of me.  Again, I counted three, and two of them were most likely family members of the one person who was there for assistance.

Finally they called me over the desk, where another nurse, this one female, took my temperature and blood pressure.  She then began to read from the paperwork I filled out and ask me every question I had just answered.  I asked why they had me fill out the paperwork if they were just going to re-ask me every question: name, age, current prescriptions, insurance provider, etc.  "Your handwriting is very sloppy", was her response.  It was the first time I ever wanted to punch a woman.  Through the entire exchange I was bent over in agony.  I couldn't even tell you what she looked like because I'd been staring at the floor the entire time.  

My dad almost lost it and told her that he could answer every question for me.  She ignored him and continued to ask me to translate my answers.  I screamed something in agony and they called security.  

The dofe of a security guard came wobbling over and tried to look intimidating.  "It's a kidney stone", was his diagnosis. "Great", I thought to myself, "Now we can finally go home.  The security guard just diagnosed the problem!"  He went on to say that he had a kidney stone a few years back and was in the waiting room for three hours before he was treated.  How comforting.  What excellent bedside manners.  I couldn't believe the pain didn't just miraculously disappear right then and there.

I waited about another ten minutes before a nurse finally came out and brought me into the ER.  It was another hour before I was finally hooked up to an IV and given pain medication.  The security guard was right.  It was a kidney stone.  I spent the entire day at the hospital and was finally released around 8pm.  I wanted to tell the security guard that he was in the wrong profession but unfortunately there was a new shift on duty.  Maybe next time.

Intro

I had an English teacher who used to tell my class the same joke everyday. He'd say, "knock knock."

And then we'd ask, "who's there?"

"It is I," he always answered in his loud, booming, over-dramatic voice.

Then, when it was our turn to ask, "it is I who?" he always interrupted us with a frustrated, "oh, just another grammar joke."

Anytime anyone else told the joke and answered, "it's me," he would scold the person by saying that there is no me, only "I".  No one ever understood what he was talking about, and sadly he retired my junior year in high school without ever explaining the joke. 

Fast-forward 15 or so years. While reading the chapter in Grammar Snobs about Who vs. Whom, I feel like I finally solved the mystery.  By asking "who is there?", his correct grammatical response was "it is I".  If we asked, "whom is it?" then his correct response would have been, "it's me."  I guess I never knew the rule.  Not sure why he never explained it?  Perhaps he was hoping one of his students would one day figure it out?

"It is I" is a line that me and my friends have repeated for years.  It's become a real inside joke between us.  I actually called a number of them yesterday with my discovery and they all agree that the teacher was trying to get one of his students to explain the rule to him.  Maybe I would have gotten an A?