This is my first ever blog on the Franklin Family website. I am officially cementing my status a pushing 30 Gen Xer. So I thought that I would reveal to our general audience my current obsession (ie. time waster): collecting other people’s cast offs (by creepily driving through alleys and loading peoples trash into my car) and then selling them on Craigslist. This is akin to the current phenomena of “freeganism” only without the dumpsters and the slightly rotting food. So whenever the kids are sleeping in the backseat and I have a little time to kill, I drive up and down the alleys of my TAD (Thirty-something Affluent Democratic) neighborhood, looking for interesting things that people have set out for the trash man to pickup. I then spray bleach the heck out of my findings, squirt it off with the neighbors hose (we don’t have one of our own), take pictures of it, and put it up for sale on Craigslist. So far, I’ve had the most luck selling Little Tikes stuff. This stuff is the bright, obnoxious plastic kids toys that litter the backyards of many a suburban household. And it turns out that many mothers in Chicagoland are itching to get a good deal on say, a giant blue and yellow picnic table, or a round water table in good condition, with only 2 barely noticeable cigarette burns on the top. (I mean, who needs an ash tray when you’ve got your kids water table sitting right there?) I made $40 last week selling those things. I have also found that it helps to offer to deliver the goods, that way I guilt the buyer into not rejecting my stuff, being as I drove the crap all of the way out to their house and all. This week, I’ve got a dirty, cobwebbed turtle sandbox, a giant plastic country kitchen, and a large exersaucer sitting in my backyard, just waiting for their turn to be spit-shined and put up for sale.

I’m attempting to become national board certified this year.  What this means for is the following:

1. I get a super neat license from the state of Illinois that will last for 10 years. 
2. I improve my teaching ability, as going through the process forces me to stretch myself professionally.
3. I spend hours and hours writing about my teaching and reflecting on what I do in the classroom.
4. I get $3,000 from the state of Illinois every year just for being a National Board Certified teacher.
5. It will be way easier to get other professional positions, if I wanted them.

It’s lots of work, but I really think its going to be worth it.

She was freaked out, of course.

The girl is scared of EVERYTHING!

I was unusually tired this morning, and looked in the mirror each time I passed it, trying to rub the red out of my eyes. I left out of the house at the normal time, drove to work drinking orange juice and eating a green apple. It was my normal routine. Out of the house at 5:48, pulling up to school, feeling late as ever, wishing i wouldn’t have slept in for those last precious minutes, and listening to something mundane on NPR. I could tell by the lights in the building that people were inside the school. So I got out but immediately realized that I didn’t grab my lunch bag. As I reached across the seat, I heard a running noise, and felt my laptop bag slip from my hands. At first, I thought I just dropped it. But the running sound, coupled with the two teenagers in all black clothing and wearing hoodies running in the opposite direction, made me realize what was up. They literally came out of nowhere and had my laptop before I could realize what had happened.

Being stupid, angry, and in no way brave, I CHARGED after them. I was furious. I shouted at the top of my lungs that I was going to kill them (what was I thinking!?!?!)! I chased them across the basketball court and into the alley parallel to the school. As I was gaining ground, I saw the thug on the left, the one who had the bag, pass something to the thug on the right. At first I thought it was a metal pipe or something, so I slowed down. My instinct told me that I was filled with enough rage and adrenaline that I could win if the fight was fair, but this pipe was an entirely new variable. I wasn’t about to get the crap beat out of me with a pipe. But it wasn’t a pipe. It was a gun. The perp on the right quickly turned and faced me, gun pointed at my body. Without hesitation I changed directions and bolted back towards my car. He yelld, “Yeah, Bit**”, with smug satisfaction after I altered my plans.

The entire time this took place, I wasn’t in the least bit scared. I was angry. I was filled with a ridiculous adrenaline rage, and my shouting was punctuated by an idiotic confidence that I could actually beat both of them down if necessary. I was outside of myself with anger. As I started running after them, I was convinced that I could take them both. They were bigger, younger, and probably stronger. But I had no doubts; They would perish under my fists. As I think back on those 30 or so seconds, I get that feeling of dread in my chest. Fear. Why was I filled with such rage? Why was my initial reaction so aggressive? Today I saw a part of me that even now is hard to fathom.

The kid could have shot me. He might have pulled the trigger. Thank God I didn’t have a gun.