Every year, we encounter not only new students, but their parents. Often the students tend to be the more realistic ones; parents want their kids to be who they want them to be. They don’t want to hear their child cannot do something at their grade level, let alone unable to do that something at all. There is a poem written by a parent of a student with a disability and of course the title and author escapes me right now. The poem is an extended metaphor comparing the child to a trip to Europe. You plan to have a baby that will be x,y, and z, only to discover they are a,b,c. Similarly, you plan a fantastic trip to Paris, only to land in Berlin. The point was, your expectations have to change.
The expectations I have for my students vary in degree. I do expect all of them to be kind one another and to become citizens of the world who make a positive contribution to society. Some of students will contribute by becoming teachers themselves, others will be working someplace where they practice a rote skill. But in the scheme of things, who really cares? They will have beaten the odds that someone has stacked against them at some point in their lives and hopefully proven a few people wrong along the way.
Now, we have had a very tense situation all year with a particular parent whose daughter is significantly impaired. She is as sweet as can be and she laughs at all of my jokes. This student also has a great sense of humor herself. She lacks the inhibitions that would make another person self conscious, and I believe this protects her from really seeing how cruel other kids are. Ironically, my “coolest” boys who “do not need any help” are very kind to her. A lot of my students are exempt from taking a foreign language due to severe receptive language disabilities, so they were discussing who takes a language and who does not. One of the cool boys asked this student if she took a foreign language and she firmly replied “YES”. “What language?”, he asked. “ENGLISH”, she proudly responded. The irony was not lost on me folks; English is definitely a foreign language to some. The point is, she did not realize that she was not taking a foreign language, but the kids did not needle or bash her in the same way they would have done to someone else. They just ‘get it’ when it comes to her. Anyway, the parents are under the impression that their daughter is going to be able to do x,y, and z. For now, she is making progress and the achievement of those goals remains to be seen. About 4 months ago, this student was brought to my inclusion class after being in a self contained social studies for at least 5 years. I modify work to the extent a child needs it, so for this student, I figured I had my work cut out for me. I was not worried about the kid so much as the parents who have historically picked apart every letter of every paper sent home. I almost had a heart attack when Isent home a failing grade but instead I was told that they were impressed she did that well. WOW! Quite a compliment. So now, as I begin to write a final just for this student, I figured I would let the parents know that I would be cluing them in on what to study and to alleviate any worry that I expected their daughter to have to know the final review packet inside and out. Knowing who they are and what they so desire, I waited for their response. Here is what I received (a bit edited so as not to bore you)
Hi Ms. Shapiro,
Thanks so much for writing to us. …….
My husband and I truly appreciate the dedication, insight and expertise you have brought to our daughter's seventh grade experience. (We so wish you taught eighth grade!) At some point I would like to talk to you a bit more about_____________.
Thanks again,
___________________
So I planned a trip to visit Alcatraz, and instead I ended up in Bora Bora. Seriously, life is full of surprises.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Seriously, AC
So, I have been mega busy. Not a very good excuse for the lack of writing, but if it is any consolation, I am constantly observing and noting good topics to blog about. “Seriously” is always in my heart. I really need some time to play around on here and spruce of the page. You know, make it more personal. But since that is not going to happen for a bit, let me update you on my wild weekend in Atlantic City. For the sake of keeping things fluid, I am going to just number my topics; too many disconnected incidents occurred and will probably not be as funny to those of you who were not there.
What: Kim Grossman’s Bachelorette Party
Where: Water Club/Borgata in Atlantic City
Who: MAMS RAMS and Kim’s other friends, cousin, sister in law
1. The car ride. Lisa, Robyn, Rita, Amanda. Rita was the driver. Apparently, we should have left around 11:40, but finally got on the road about 2 hours later. Robyn had a spa appointment and an emergency CVS run. Not a big deal, I suppose, if we had planned to leave at that time and clued Robyn in on the need to change her hair appointment (spa makes it more dramatic). Rita was not happy, so I suggested I take over the wheel so she could start drinking gin. It would have been a good idea, since once we hit Mur Mur, all Rita drank was TONIC and gin, not GIN and tonic. Amanda busted out a mix CD, which was mucho fun to sing along to. At the rest stop, all four of us purchased fake teeth with the hopes that one of us would get the coveted golden grillz, but to no avail. We had so much at the rest stop that we almost came back to NY. But, we proceeded to our destination while Rita drank coffee that tasted like the rest stop. The car ride back was just as much fun, but funnier because we were starving and exhausted. Robyn’s GPS, who sounds like a 1-900 phone sex operator FINALLY found us a “restaurant”. WAWA. Talk about WAHWAH!! I do not suggest the mozzarella sticks. However, this week there is a hoagie special, so come one, come all. A
2. PWT. The fake teeth were busted out at The Old Homestead. It was probably not the classiest move, but as Countess Luann always says, “Money Can’t Buy You Class.” We have no money, so no worries there. I actually wore the fake teeth today at work for a bit. The kids loved them.
3. Speaking of the Countess (RHONY). I admired how she wore a fancy nightgown when she slept over Jill and Bobby Zarin’s one night, so I convinced my mother to bust out a nightgown from 1974 because I was too cheap to buy a silky number. It was literally from 1974. No exaggeration. It is somewhat of a tropical design featuring pinks and yellows. I could not fill in the chest area, but nonetheless, I reenacted the scene wear Jill Zarin happens upon Luann just casually reading in bed. I know what you are thinking: How mature (immature) is this girl? Seriously, the only way I can cope with daily life is to pull silly stunts such as these. People like it, we laugh, it is fun. Don’t come along if you are unwilling to play. Marmol actually owns the book Class with the Countess and she caught up on some reading while in AC as well. For about 28 hours, we all hummed/busted out her song which can be downloaded on ITUNES. Thank you Countess for providing us with material.
4. Jungle Cat in the Bathroom. Last week at a happy hour, a bunch of us decided to reenact scenes from the Hangover. The next day, we all had hangovers. I had planned to borrow a baby Bjorn from someone and wear it out. My mother was not a fan of this idea. I reminded her that hillbillies are in AC, as well as elderly males and females scooting around in wheelchairs while connected to Oxygen tanks. While smoking butts. And she is worried about how I would look with a baby bjorn? Instead, I bought a tiger mask and posed as a jungle cat in the bathroom. I also ironed. The jungle cat mask will coming along on the next venture with the ladies to Cape May. Again, immature, but fun. We are women in our 30’s who work in a middle school. We are young at heart. I love us.
5. Shakira Vid. There might be a video surfacing of me somewhere dancing as Shakira behind curtains.
6. The stripper. There wasn’t one. But, when a security guard approached our table at dinner inquiring about someone who fell down the stairs earlier in the evening, Amanda did not hesitate to ask if he was the stripper. He was not amused. However, many were amused when Amanda changed into her Tuxedo Stripper T and acted as our gentleman escort for the remainder of the night. SIDENOTE: I am wearing a Tuxedo T to our end of the year party. I plan to bedazzle it because I am just that kind of girl. These shirts are festive, appropriate and simple. I am pleased to already have the outfit planned out, but if you know me well enough, you know I already had something else lined up months ago!
7. The Bone. Rachel ML, the librarian at our school, has a dog that she always brings her leftovers to. Stop it!!! Not her husband, a four legged canine!!! So, true to her style, Rachel requested her bone from the porterhouse for two be wrapped up. There is Rachel waiting on line at Mur Mur with a gold tone carry out bag holding a bone. The people manning the line at the club instructed Rachel to leave the bag outside of the club. Sadly, the bone went into the garbage. But how often does one carry a bone around a casino with the intention of carrying it around a club?
8. SAMANTHA RONSON!! LOVE HER. She really gained fame as Lindsay Lohan’s gf, but beyond that, Sam, as I like to refer to her, is a sick DJ. She is in her early 30’s so she spins what we all know but mixes it in a way that makes someone want to stalk her every appearance within an hour radius of Long Beach. She is tiny and has a body like a pre-pubescent boy. She had on a flannel shirt (chap-stick).
9. SLASH! So, we are trying to get our groove on the dancefloor, but it is so packed that we are sweating and sort of swaying. Rita is asked to move over so that the velvet rope can provide entrance to an ugly man in a hat, silver hoop earring, and weird ass black curly hair pulled back in a pony tail. Said man brushes against Rita. Said man is GNR’s Slash, who is leading his own band and had performed earlier somewhere in the hotel. He is practically unrecognizable without his big sunglasses, hat and pouffed out coiffe. But, it was him and we were all a little star struck. (pics are on FB if you are my friend)
10. Bathroom Cell Phone Stalker. So, around 1:30 AM, I leave Rita and Robyn at the Black Jack Table. Rumble Rumble…. I hear a woman telling the bathroom attendant that she believes she has lost her cell phone in the bathroom. The duo begins to investigate the scene. I am doing what I gots to do and have the sneaking suspicion that someone is waiting for me to hurry up. About 40 minutes later, (just kidding)….A bit later, I exit the stall and realize my instincts were dead on. Missing cell phone woman was waiting for me to get out RIGHT BEHIND THE DOOR. Couldn’t her time have been used more productively? She could have asked if I had seen a cell phone in the toilet!!! But her ineffective use of time management was not rewarded in a good way when she pursued her cell phone search in the stall that I had just left….Let’s just leave it at that. (TMI??? Everybody poops!! It is a book!!)
11. 2 new phrases/terms from the weekend:
1. Mojito is apparently not just a drink. It is a work referring to a woman getting turned on. USE: “OOH!!! That just made me mojito!” (Hint: If you are not able to dissect this vague clue, it has to do with a response one might get in their girl-shirts).
2. ANNA (changed the original ‘A’ name to protect the innocent). A student’s mother thought it was a great idea to feed her daughter Ex-Lax due to some clogged plumbing. Said student had an explosion at school (are you shocked?) and was subsequently sent home. After more explosives at home, an email was sent to her teacher indicating that the “B.M. was so bad it was even in her vagina.” UUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!! Parents really share this info with us folks!
So, if I ever call you an “Anna”, I mean you are a va-j-j with crap in it.
Yes, I am SERIOUSLY disgusting and vulgar at times, but these are not even things that I made up!!!
All in all, this was a fun weekend. I laughed hard enough that I cried and even seem to think I spy a 1-pack forming on my stomach.
What: Kim Grossman’s Bachelorette Party
Where: Water Club/Borgata in Atlantic City
Who: MAMS RAMS and Kim’s other friends, cousin, sister in law
1. The car ride. Lisa, Robyn, Rita, Amanda. Rita was the driver. Apparently, we should have left around 11:40, but finally got on the road about 2 hours later. Robyn had a spa appointment and an emergency CVS run. Not a big deal, I suppose, if we had planned to leave at that time and clued Robyn in on the need to change her hair appointment (spa makes it more dramatic). Rita was not happy, so I suggested I take over the wheel so she could start drinking gin. It would have been a good idea, since once we hit Mur Mur, all Rita drank was TONIC and gin, not GIN and tonic. Amanda busted out a mix CD, which was mucho fun to sing along to. At the rest stop, all four of us purchased fake teeth with the hopes that one of us would get the coveted golden grillz, but to no avail. We had so much at the rest stop that we almost came back to NY. But, we proceeded to our destination while Rita drank coffee that tasted like the rest stop. The car ride back was just as much fun, but funnier because we were starving and exhausted. Robyn’s GPS, who sounds like a 1-900 phone sex operator FINALLY found us a “restaurant”. WAWA. Talk about WAHWAH!! I do not suggest the mozzarella sticks. However, this week there is a hoagie special, so come one, come all. A
2. PWT. The fake teeth were busted out at The Old Homestead. It was probably not the classiest move, but as Countess Luann always says, “Money Can’t Buy You Class.” We have no money, so no worries there. I actually wore the fake teeth today at work for a bit. The kids loved them.
3. Speaking of the Countess (RHONY). I admired how she wore a fancy nightgown when she slept over Jill and Bobby Zarin’s one night, so I convinced my mother to bust out a nightgown from 1974 because I was too cheap to buy a silky number. It was literally from 1974. No exaggeration. It is somewhat of a tropical design featuring pinks and yellows. I could not fill in the chest area, but nonetheless, I reenacted the scene wear Jill Zarin happens upon Luann just casually reading in bed. I know what you are thinking: How mature (immature) is this girl? Seriously, the only way I can cope with daily life is to pull silly stunts such as these. People like it, we laugh, it is fun. Don’t come along if you are unwilling to play. Marmol actually owns the book Class with the Countess and she caught up on some reading while in AC as well. For about 28 hours, we all hummed/busted out her song which can be downloaded on ITUNES. Thank you Countess for providing us with material.
4. Jungle Cat in the Bathroom. Last week at a happy hour, a bunch of us decided to reenact scenes from the Hangover. The next day, we all had hangovers. I had planned to borrow a baby Bjorn from someone and wear it out. My mother was not a fan of this idea. I reminded her that hillbillies are in AC, as well as elderly males and females scooting around in wheelchairs while connected to Oxygen tanks. While smoking butts. And she is worried about how I would look with a baby bjorn? Instead, I bought a tiger mask and posed as a jungle cat in the bathroom. I also ironed. The jungle cat mask will coming along on the next venture with the ladies to Cape May. Again, immature, but fun. We are women in our 30’s who work in a middle school. We are young at heart. I love us.
5. Shakira Vid. There might be a video surfacing of me somewhere dancing as Shakira behind curtains.
6. The stripper. There wasn’t one. But, when a security guard approached our table at dinner inquiring about someone who fell down the stairs earlier in the evening, Amanda did not hesitate to ask if he was the stripper. He was not amused. However, many were amused when Amanda changed into her Tuxedo Stripper T and acted as our gentleman escort for the remainder of the night. SIDENOTE: I am wearing a Tuxedo T to our end of the year party. I plan to bedazzle it because I am just that kind of girl. These shirts are festive, appropriate and simple. I am pleased to already have the outfit planned out, but if you know me well enough, you know I already had something else lined up months ago!
7. The Bone. Rachel ML, the librarian at our school, has a dog that she always brings her leftovers to. Stop it!!! Not her husband, a four legged canine!!! So, true to her style, Rachel requested her bone from the porterhouse for two be wrapped up. There is Rachel waiting on line at Mur Mur with a gold tone carry out bag holding a bone. The people manning the line at the club instructed Rachel to leave the bag outside of the club. Sadly, the bone went into the garbage. But how often does one carry a bone around a casino with the intention of carrying it around a club?
8. SAMANTHA RONSON!! LOVE HER. She really gained fame as Lindsay Lohan’s gf, but beyond that, Sam, as I like to refer to her, is a sick DJ. She is in her early 30’s so she spins what we all know but mixes it in a way that makes someone want to stalk her every appearance within an hour radius of Long Beach. She is tiny and has a body like a pre-pubescent boy. She had on a flannel shirt (chap-stick).
9. SLASH! So, we are trying to get our groove on the dancefloor, but it is so packed that we are sweating and sort of swaying. Rita is asked to move over so that the velvet rope can provide entrance to an ugly man in a hat, silver hoop earring, and weird ass black curly hair pulled back in a pony tail. Said man brushes against Rita. Said man is GNR’s Slash, who is leading his own band and had performed earlier somewhere in the hotel. He is practically unrecognizable without his big sunglasses, hat and pouffed out coiffe. But, it was him and we were all a little star struck. (pics are on FB if you are my friend)
10. Bathroom Cell Phone Stalker. So, around 1:30 AM, I leave Rita and Robyn at the Black Jack Table. Rumble Rumble…. I hear a woman telling the bathroom attendant that she believes she has lost her cell phone in the bathroom. The duo begins to investigate the scene. I am doing what I gots to do and have the sneaking suspicion that someone is waiting for me to hurry up. About 40 minutes later, (just kidding)….A bit later, I exit the stall and realize my instincts were dead on. Missing cell phone woman was waiting for me to get out RIGHT BEHIND THE DOOR. Couldn’t her time have been used more productively? She could have asked if I had seen a cell phone in the toilet!!! But her ineffective use of time management was not rewarded in a good way when she pursued her cell phone search in the stall that I had just left….Let’s just leave it at that. (TMI??? Everybody poops!! It is a book!!)
11. 2 new phrases/terms from the weekend:
1. Mojito is apparently not just a drink. It is a work referring to a woman getting turned on. USE: “OOH!!! That just made me mojito!” (Hint: If you are not able to dissect this vague clue, it has to do with a response one might get in their girl-shirts).
2. ANNA (changed the original ‘A’ name to protect the innocent). A student’s mother thought it was a great idea to feed her daughter Ex-Lax due to some clogged plumbing. Said student had an explosion at school (are you shocked?) and was subsequently sent home. After more explosives at home, an email was sent to her teacher indicating that the “B.M. was so bad it was even in her vagina.” UUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!! Parents really share this info with us folks!
So, if I ever call you an “Anna”, I mean you are a va-j-j with crap in it.
Yes, I am SERIOUSLY disgusting and vulgar at times, but these are not even things that I made up!!!
All in all, this was a fun weekend. I laughed hard enough that I cried and even seem to think I spy a 1-pack forming on my stomach.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Seriously, I AM LOSING MY MIND!!!!!!!!!!!!! ( a rant from a few nights ago)
Wait! It might even be lost. I am literally sitting here about to explode. And, I am starving. You see, I am supposed to be receiving a physical from a paramedical. Perhaps I waited 10-15 years too long, but I am finally purchasing life insurance. Apparently, it is a sm art financial move, a great way to plan for life (death) and a sign of growing up. Or that is what I thought until I learned that had I done this 3, 4, 9 years ago, I would have bought in at a much lower rate. Here I am, silly moi, thinking I needed to wait until I popped out a baby to purchase this "peace of mind." I wonder if Bethenny Frankel thought of this? She is older than me, after all.
So, where the hell is this chick? She was supposed to be here an hour ago, no dice. Modern technology has provided us with phones: SERIOUSLY??? I tend to be unable to drop a urine on demand and have terrible veins. I could never shoot up drugs, not that I have ever had the desire to, but the point is between a pending urine sample and the necessity to access a vein in my arm, I have been downing water like its 1996 and its a melon ball shot. Oh--did I mention I went to spin class? Oh--did I mention I have not been able to eat anything since 5, which ordinarily is no problem, yet today of all days, the suggestion of the limitation has had my stomach in an uproar?? Oh--did I mention spin class? I have not eaten since 1:00. My blood pressure is probably sky high now due to the unprofessionalism of a faceless woman who I decided has a sparse moustache; a woman who has controlled my every move tonight. Cleary,my blood pressure is not the 120 over 80 that I can usually boast of. So you know what? You cannot see me, but I just threw back a class of wine and ate a handful of raspberries. I used the ladies room, but not at the same time as I was eating. I do have class! TIME: 9:20. Looks like Josh can't off me just yet.
So, where the hell is this chick? She was supposed to be here an hour ago, no dice. Modern technology has provided us with phones: SERIOUSLY??? I tend to be unable to drop a urine on demand and have terrible veins. I could never shoot up drugs, not that I have ever had the desire to, but the point is between a pending urine sample and the necessity to access a vein in my arm, I have been downing water like its 1996 and its a melon ball shot. Oh--did I mention I went to spin class? Oh--did I mention I have not been able to eat anything since 5, which ordinarily is no problem, yet today of all days, the suggestion of the limitation has had my stomach in an uproar?? Oh--did I mention spin class? I have not eaten since 1:00. My blood pressure is probably sky high now due to the unprofessionalism of a faceless woman who I decided has a sparse moustache; a woman who has controlled my every move tonight. Cleary,my blood pressure is not the 120 over 80 that I can usually boast of. So you know what? You cannot see me, but I just threw back a class of wine and ate a handful of raspberries. I used the ladies room, but not at the same time as I was eating. I do have class! TIME: 9:20. Looks like Josh can't off me just yet.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
IS THAT SERIOUSLY YOUR NAME?
Hamburger
Chin
Paradise
Knee
Dickes
Vagiones (yes, this is real)
Seaman
Cockfield (my mom gave that one)
Mr. Doody (thanks again mom!)
What do all of these words have in common? They are last names; seriously odd ones if you really want my opinion. I came across these names while grading the New York state English Language Arts Assessment. Vagiones happens to be the last name of a colleague’s cousin; the family is Greek. During my days grading, I learned the story of this first name: Le-A. Apparently, the mother of the child bearing this name was upset that no one was ever able to correctly pronounce Le-A’s name. The reason: it was pronounced Le DASH a. Apparently Le-A’s mom was not a very good speller, since it really said Le HYPEN a.
All of this name talk got me to thinking about my own collection of last names. At work, I am known as the law firm of Wasserman, Hershkowitz, Wasserman, Shapiro. I can determine which years I have had certain students based upon what they call me when I am spotted about town. Just the other day I ran into a student from 6 years ago. She recalled me as Mrs. Hershkowitz had blonde hair. A lot has changed since that year. Another student I currently have informed me that his brother has a yearbook with me as Wasserman, his sister with me as Hershkowitz. This student will be the proud owner of the Shapiro version of me, which will complete the anthology of my names. The kids of course wanted to know why I have had so many names, so when I tell them I killed my first husband, they don’t look shocked, considering at this point in the year they are very well acquainted with my sense of humor. They say, “No, really. What happened?” I tell them I collect husbands. They are a savvy group of 7th graders and they know that New York is not a state that supports polygamy so I simply say that Mr. Hershkowitz was a douchebag. Just kidding. I am honest and tell them we did not get along. My students press me for details, but it is definitely crossing a line to share with them that a marriage simply cannot work when the husband has a girlfriend and a harem of hook ups that he prefers spending time with. Ho hum…
Whenever anyone I know gets married (or divorced), they come to me for procedural information. I am an expert. I should hang a sign with tear off phone numbers on bulletin boards in supermarkets and dry cleaners advertising how, when, and what to do when faced with the change of name. I certainly have done it enough; 3 times to be exact. (Does that make me “Lisa 3 times”?**) The easiest name change is the credit card. They automatically congratulate you, assuming it is a change due to marriage. When I was getting divorced, I informed the kind woman it was due to divorce and she quickly apologized. I told her to take the apology back; Wasserman is a way better than Hershkowitz (Hershey Squirts) and my dignity was still intact! DMV, Social Security; kind of annoying. You need divorce papers in hand and you need to know the best times to show up. The W-2 or W-4 at work and health insurance information can be a bit annoying too. Believe it or not, Cablevision refused to change anything until I sent them a copy of my freedom papers. I was even dropped in the online IEP system we use at work because someone in the admin. Office of my school district neglected to ever change my name , despite multiple requests. Apparently, they thought Lisa Wasserman had left the district. You would think that after the pain in the ass of phone calls, faxes, mailings, and waiting for my number to be called I would have learned my lesson, but no, I honored Josh’s wish to become a real deal Shapiro, so I traded in Wasserman one last time and became a Shapiro (Shappy, Shaps).
The multiple name changes have made my mail situation interesting. Just the other day, Lisa Wasserman and Lisa Shapiro received a reminder of where to vote for the school budget. Lisa Wasserman, Lisa Hershkowitz and Lisa Shapiro all received mailings to vote for one candidate or another during the local election season. It was especially interesting when Lisa Wasserman was summoned to jury duty, went and was dismissed. About a week later, Lisa Hershkowitz, of the same social security number, address and phone number was summoned. Despite my written response, I was issues another summons threatening some very bad thing s would happen if I did not step up and serve my civic duty. I responded with a very strongly worded letter, informing whoever works there to pay attention to what I wrote and to get their facts straight. LISA WASSERMAN IS LISA HERSHKOWITZ AND SHE ALREADY SERVED JURY DUTY!!!! Telemarketers call here looking for all three of me, and when they do not ask for Shapiro, I tell them she does not live here. I tell them that Shapiro does not live here either, but at least the latter has the records up to date. I still receive mail with all three last names and I suppose I will for a while. The “wrong” names are junk mail anyway.
But what’s in a name? I used to believe that changing your last name meant changing your identity and while it technically does on paper, a name does not make a person who they are. We are who we are regardless of a surname. This does not mean that if you meet someone whose last name is ‘Gambino’ you won’t wonder if they are of those ‘Gambinos’ , or if their last name is ‘Clinton’ as in DeWitt Clinton, are they related to Bill Clinton (this happened at school the other day). Dr. Hymen was the principal of my Hebrew school and of course, that name still makes me laugh. But his name didn’t make him a virgin.
Names are funny. I used to wonder if I would have had a different life if I had a different first name. The only thing I have to go on is that it could have been a possibility. I had a very different life as a Hershkowitz, and it was not a good one. So to the test taker whose last name is Dickes: it could always be worse. I would much rather have been a Dickes than a Hershkowitz.
**refers to a wild night in college that included grain alchohol
Chin
Paradise
Knee
Dickes
Vagiones (yes, this is real)
Seaman
Cockfield (my mom gave that one)
Mr. Doody (thanks again mom!)
What do all of these words have in common? They are last names; seriously odd ones if you really want my opinion. I came across these names while grading the New York state English Language Arts Assessment. Vagiones happens to be the last name of a colleague’s cousin; the family is Greek. During my days grading, I learned the story of this first name: Le-A. Apparently, the mother of the child bearing this name was upset that no one was ever able to correctly pronounce Le-A’s name. The reason: it was pronounced Le DASH a. Apparently Le-A’s mom was not a very good speller, since it really said Le HYPEN a.
All of this name talk got me to thinking about my own collection of last names. At work, I am known as the law firm of Wasserman, Hershkowitz, Wasserman, Shapiro. I can determine which years I have had certain students based upon what they call me when I am spotted about town. Just the other day I ran into a student from 6 years ago. She recalled me as Mrs. Hershkowitz had blonde hair. A lot has changed since that year. Another student I currently have informed me that his brother has a yearbook with me as Wasserman, his sister with me as Hershkowitz. This student will be the proud owner of the Shapiro version of me, which will complete the anthology of my names. The kids of course wanted to know why I have had so many names, so when I tell them I killed my first husband, they don’t look shocked, considering at this point in the year they are very well acquainted with my sense of humor. They say, “No, really. What happened?” I tell them I collect husbands. They are a savvy group of 7th graders and they know that New York is not a state that supports polygamy so I simply say that Mr. Hershkowitz was a douchebag. Just kidding. I am honest and tell them we did not get along. My students press me for details, but it is definitely crossing a line to share with them that a marriage simply cannot work when the husband has a girlfriend and a harem of hook ups that he prefers spending time with. Ho hum…
Whenever anyone I know gets married (or divorced), they come to me for procedural information. I am an expert. I should hang a sign with tear off phone numbers on bulletin boards in supermarkets and dry cleaners advertising how, when, and what to do when faced with the change of name. I certainly have done it enough; 3 times to be exact. (Does that make me “Lisa 3 times”?**) The easiest name change is the credit card. They automatically congratulate you, assuming it is a change due to marriage. When I was getting divorced, I informed the kind woman it was due to divorce and she quickly apologized. I told her to take the apology back; Wasserman is a way better than Hershkowitz (Hershey Squirts) and my dignity was still intact! DMV, Social Security; kind of annoying. You need divorce papers in hand and you need to know the best times to show up. The W-2 or W-4 at work and health insurance information can be a bit annoying too. Believe it or not, Cablevision refused to change anything until I sent them a copy of my freedom papers. I was even dropped in the online IEP system we use at work because someone in the admin. Office of my school district neglected to ever change my name , despite multiple requests. Apparently, they thought Lisa Wasserman had left the district. You would think that after the pain in the ass of phone calls, faxes, mailings, and waiting for my number to be called I would have learned my lesson, but no, I honored Josh’s wish to become a real deal Shapiro, so I traded in Wasserman one last time and became a Shapiro (Shappy, Shaps).
The multiple name changes have made my mail situation interesting. Just the other day, Lisa Wasserman and Lisa Shapiro received a reminder of where to vote for the school budget. Lisa Wasserman, Lisa Hershkowitz and Lisa Shapiro all received mailings to vote for one candidate or another during the local election season. It was especially interesting when Lisa Wasserman was summoned to jury duty, went and was dismissed. About a week later, Lisa Hershkowitz, of the same social security number, address and phone number was summoned. Despite my written response, I was issues another summons threatening some very bad thing s would happen if I did not step up and serve my civic duty. I responded with a very strongly worded letter, informing whoever works there to pay attention to what I wrote and to get their facts straight. LISA WASSERMAN IS LISA HERSHKOWITZ AND SHE ALREADY SERVED JURY DUTY!!!! Telemarketers call here looking for all three of me, and when they do not ask for Shapiro, I tell them she does not live here. I tell them that Shapiro does not live here either, but at least the latter has the records up to date. I still receive mail with all three last names and I suppose I will for a while. The “wrong” names are junk mail anyway.
But what’s in a name? I used to believe that changing your last name meant changing your identity and while it technically does on paper, a name does not make a person who they are. We are who we are regardless of a surname. This does not mean that if you meet someone whose last name is ‘Gambino’ you won’t wonder if they are of those ‘Gambinos’ , or if their last name is ‘Clinton’ as in DeWitt Clinton, are they related to Bill Clinton (this happened at school the other day). Dr. Hymen was the principal of my Hebrew school and of course, that name still makes me laugh. But his name didn’t make him a virgin.
Names are funny. I used to wonder if I would have had a different life if I had a different first name. The only thing I have to go on is that it could have been a possibility. I had a very different life as a Hershkowitz, and it was not a good one. So to the test taker whose last name is Dickes: it could always be worse. I would much rather have been a Dickes than a Hershkowitz.
**refers to a wild night in college that included grain alchohol
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