THOUGHTS ON THE RUBBERROOM

As some of you know I was interred in the NYC/DOE's Rubberroom for a little over than two weeks. While this moment in my adult life was traumatic and jarring, I did manage to learn leagues about myself. It made me confront the matrix of who I was becoming.

I was an eager, anxious young Latino educator, and I still fit that bill, except I now know that theaters of anger are best kept to oneself; you need to know when to walk away from a potentially embarrassing situation, especially in front of adolescents, because you are liable to do something boneheaded.

Was my indiscretion a token of my inexperience? Most certainly, but at the same time I can't but help feel that if you have ever helmed a class in the inner-city then and only then can you begin to empathize with me. But at it's core this is a faulty assumption because acute pressure is something that a lot of people put up with, some not even receiving renumeration.

Case in point, have you ever seen a young mother carry a stroller up a staircase during the tumult of rush hour. Ever seen a cop hold the line at a rally or parade?
Ever seen a taxi driver encroach on the BQE during rush hour? You get the picture.

After my stay, I composed an original work that was a response to my experience in the DOE dungeon. The work now comprises chapter three of my poetry manuscript, Spicaresque. Last year it was picked as a finalist in the National Poetry Series.

My "Rubberroom" is written as if if were a play, every poem can be seen as a different scene, or a different monologue. In fact, if I had to characterize the work, I would say it is a monologue written in the form of a poem. The "dramatization" of my work is only to reinforce the idea that teachers are actors, and their lessons are structured, systematic monologues.

The funniest thing for me is that any and all interest in my work has been generated by this chapter. I have had the pleasure of reading it at two venues and I even read it at my 30th birthday blowout when the majority of people in the bleachers were teachers or educators of some sort. What is funny is that this piece has generated the most interest and at the time it seemed like my life was falling apart and this event was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Chau

Yago