12.5.21

Why Wednesday Is the Day of the Week to Send Messages (Because of Woden, or, as the Greeks Call Him, Hermes)

Wednesday is named for Woden — the Norse parallel for the Greek and Roman messenger god Hermes.

In Jackson Heights, Queens

Ephemera
I’m obsessed with messages, epistolary novels, and journeys and undertakings. I never 👎 skip by a note or love letter. Even a torn letter I see on the sidewalk. I'll pick it up. And save it. And I love to eat tears and swallow joy.

My friends say I’m constantly flexing. My students want the school year to end. I’m listening to lots of books on tape and cooking lots of sausages and egg salad.

Achievements
I’m proud of my student @jukycheng, who got accepted into a Summer engineering program at NYU Tandon in Brooklyn. Congrats, Juky!

And I’m also excited for the Summer—those dog days. But I’m into May. With its warm afternoons and occasional showers.

Let's Chat!
How are you holding up? Need a hug? Here’s one. Need a nudge? Here’s one? Need a ride on a white swan? I don’t have that, but drop me a message if you want to chat about YA novels and the best place to walk in New York City.


Mr. Greig Roselli, Teacher, Writer, and Philosophy Sprinkles Maker!

3.5.21

Happy Teacher Appreciation Week! (And How to Download a FREEBIE from TpT)

Hi, Friends, and Happy Teacher Appreciation Week!

Share the Love

I know. I wrote that subject line with a lot of pride! But it's true. You guys buy stuff from my store because you must really love what I do with educational downloads. And that's the beauty of TpT. There are thousands of sellers on this site, and a part of you chose me. AWWWWWWW.

FREEBIE Creation Myth Individual Lesson Plan

Greek Mythology Series: The Orphic and Homeric Creation Myths
Access this Freebie on TpT

Get this freebie from my store -- it is now the featured free content I am showcasing. So download. And drop a like if you thought it was awesome. I created a lesson plan to teach Greek Creation myths. I hope you like it!

100+ Products and Counting

I recently topped over a hundred digital downloads on the Stones of Erasmus store. I am uber-proud and uber-excited to get more stuff rolled out soon. Currently, I am exhausting my creative output on Mythology.

Teaching Resources Based on Stamped: Racism, Antiracism, and You

I am also making products related to Ibram Kendi's amazing book Stamped: Racism, Antiracism, and You  a Young Adult non-fiction remix with author Jason Reynolds. So check that out, too!

Stamped: Racism, Antiracism, and You — A Suite of Teaching Tools
A toolbox for Teachers to Use with Stamped

Love, Peace, and Harmony 

Greig from Stones of Erasmus

stonesoferasmus.com

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11.4.21

A Paean to Payphones (And Why I Feel Nostalgic for Old School Telecommunication)

When is the last time you used a working payphone? How sure are you that you can find one if your mobile phone goes dead? Do you have a quarter in your pocket?

Payphone in New York City Subway Station
Found a working payphone in the
Times Square / 42nd Street Station in New York City

Nostalgia is dangerous. Start feeling nostalgia, and suddenly, everything in the present is suspect. "Oh, I remember the days when you had to call someone on a landline."

But I like it when old-school technology still persists. I don't want to return to using payphones. They are clunky (and who has change, anyway?). And just when the conversation gets good, you have to add another quarter to continue the call.

You can find a working payphone in a few subway stations, strip malls, maybe a gas station in Duluth?

I used a payphone recently. I cannot remember why. It was when I was traveling. My phone was dead. I think it was in an Amtrak station (which I feel like is where I would find a working payphone).

Ironically, the school where I work has a payphone in the main hallway. But it does not work. It just hangs there on the wall. Hundreds of people walk by it. Heck. I didn't even notice it until like two years working at the school. I think it will become an art installation. Soon.

Fun fact: Payphones still exist. And one in five of them are in New York City! The Federal Communications Commission still regulates payphones. They still maintain a tip guide for using them and not get scammed when using a calling card. Remember those?

When was the last time you used a payphone?

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9.4.21

On Positivity and How I Am Dealing With Teaching and Promoting Anti-Hate (#stopasianhate #stopblackhate #love)

Girl Fish GIF
"Girrrrrrllllllll!" is my general mood as of late.
Two people told me today, “You are always so positive.” The first was a colleague — and they always encourage me to be myself. The second was a student —

Greig Roselli wears a yellow mask in Jackson Heights, Queens

.... she came to me after class and was like, “Thank you for always being positive.” And I was like, “Well. I can embrace my sadness. But it's important not get distracted by the negative.” Like. I mean — I'm not oblivious to the Rainbow of emotions. But I like to infuse joy, especially with adolescents. It is the way I connect, and it's the glue to keep a classroom together. That and reading, writing, and arithmetic.

Teachers Amira Esposito and Nancy Massand wear pink.
My two English colleagues and besties.

It’s been a stressful year — Covid-19. A disrupted school year. And a tragic time. George Floyd. Breonna Taylor. Say their names. And Asian Hate 😡. 


One of my kids said this week, “I don't like coming to school. I like school. It's just getting there. Should I bring mace?” I told him — “Your feelings are valid.” And we talked about strategies to signal for help if a hater ever comes at you. Pretend to talk on the phone. Don't travel alone or on a lonely street.

All this hate takes its toll. It's toxic.

What are you doing to help folks feel safe? What should we be doing? Am I right to spread positivity? Even when I'm sad or broken, or I feel like I can't find the energy to teach or do whatever. I got this.

Mr. Roselli and a student start class off with the high attitude
Start Class with the Right Attitude
Love you all!

3.4.21

Report from a Holy Saturday, Once: The Holy Fire Liturgy at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem

On one Holy Saturday – spontaneously – I attended the Holy Fire liturgy at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher (The Church of the Resurrection, as it’s called in the West) in Jerusalem.  

Photo by Dave Herring on Unsplash

Islam has the keys to the door, Jews are honored guests, and a potage of Christian groups run this place, but this morning the Greek Orthodox had the worship space.  Because of the status quo set into rigid placement two or so hundred years ago by the Ottoman Empire, liturgies in the Holy Sepulchre are set according to a very stiff timetable  implemented before the Second Vatican Council. Hence, even today, the Latin’s celebrate the Easter Vigil at 6:30 in the morning!  

After the Latin Patriarch and his train left with much fanfare, the Holy Sepulchre doors closed. A Moslem “guard” locked the doors again in a ceremonial “ladder from hole” routine, and we waited for the Greeks and Armenians to show up for their traditional greeting.  It was uncomfortable, waiting in line, waiting for the doors to open while hewn matrons with steely eyes yelled out invective to anyone who attempted to cross their space. The dazed English speakers could only muster, “What are you saying?” The women would only continue to spill out their sputter onto the crowd and me. 

When finally the old, crackly wooden doors finally, slowly wheezed open again, the people, not a single file, piled into the Basilica, arms clutching their children hoping for a heavenly blessing.  Everyone wants a view of the aedicule (edicule), which is the structure believed to be the place Christ was laid to rest and rose again. It is not the most beautiful structure; steel supports cover the faded glory tomb – a phalanx of luminaries fill the entrance, making visible a gaudy icon on top of something or other.  I could only see glimpses of the tomb, as I was constantly, for four hours, smashed up against people’s backs and other parts – at one time, a woman’s long strand of hair found itself in my mouth.  The fervor heightened inside the Basilica as Armenian teenagers walloped and yelled, climbed the aedicule singing “fire” songs, praying for the angel to come and light the place ablaze.  I could only look blearily on from my curtailed privacy, people continually poking and prodding me.  

This lasted for a very long time, while in the crowds, people collapsed from fatigue.  The church’s central section was throbbing with action that a Westerner could only gawk at – is this liturgy? I wondered.  What sort of liturgy is utter chaos?  There was no sense of order in this bedlam – if there was any, I could not see it maybe I had no faith. Only the person of faith sees the angel come down to light the flames, for hours processions followed the tomb around and around.  

Periods of silence where it seemed nothing was going on ensued, only the people’s continual hum and a loud chant song from the tomb precincts.  The anticipation was growing, and I was hot and bothered – the sweat collected and the compression of people made my head swim.  I reminded myself I was about to witness a miracle.  The Greek Patriarch entered the tomb to receive the holy fire from the angel. He is ritually searched by a Moslem group and then enters – I think alone or maybe with an assistant.   No sound comes from the aedicule as the inner thumping of peoples’ anticipation grows.  Then it happens, suddenly, without a warning – a hand sticks out of a pre-carved oval with a flame.  The whole church goes crazy – people are singing and waving their candles, and the flame approaches me like a fireball, for by now, hundreds of people have lit their torches. Quickly the place becomes hot, the wax is flying around and soon, anti-luminaries with handy sprayers violently extinguish the flames.  Some place their flame in a secure metal box to be taken home to the dinner table or on the next Greek Air flight!  

In about five minutes, the whole Basilica was bathed by a bequest from an angel – a sight to behold – I just could not believe it as I again joined the throng trying to crawl my way out of this enormous church where I had indeed experienced a miracle.  And when I got outside, I saw holy flames licking the streets of Jerusalem – Christ-like a Pandora shedding not chaos, but wild radical mercy on his people.

Note: This post was originally written in the Spring of 2000.

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31.3.21

Spring Break with Jambalaya and Friends and Why I Love Faces (and Portraits!)

What’s the best feature of the photograph? Portraits! Photos capture faces. And I’ve appreciated faces lately — especially during this recent Spring Break-cum-Easter time and so on.
Cesar Caraval eats a bowl of Louisiana style Jambalaya with Andouille sausage
I made jambalaya and fed it to a few friends to
celebrate that we're all vaccinated and can now
officially hang out together (and of course, that does
not mean we are lax with social distancing and mask-wearing). 

As vaccinations against Covid-19 are more widely distributed, people are congregating with each other to celebrate. While mask-wearing and general social
Greig Roselli and his friend Michelle Ruderham Davis and her son hang out in Diversity Plaza in Queens on a Spring day.
In Diversity Plaza in Queens
on a Spring Day


Lauren after eating a spicy bowl of Louisiana-style Jambalaya

distancing guidelines are still in place, being vaccinated means I can hang out with folks I haven’t been with since March of last year. I saw my friend Michelle and her family, and I made jambalaya for a group of teacher-friends. By the way — the jambalaya was lit 🔥.


Miguel after eating a bowl of spicy Louisiana-style JambalayaKarina after eating a bowl of spicy Louisiana-style Jambalaya

12.3.21

A Year Ago Today: Going into Lockdown Because of the Coronavirus Outbreak in the United States (and the World)

Greig Roselli poses for a photograph in a back alley in Jackson Heights, Queens
Greig Roselli poses for the one year anniversary
of living through Covid-19 in these United States.

One Year Ago Today

Today is March 12th in the Year of Our Lord Twenty Twenty-One. Last year today, I was in a faculty meeting. “We’re not closing school,” they said. By Sunday, we were in lockdown. And the rest is history.

I feel like I’m living through a historic moment like folks who lived through the Great Depression and hoarded pennies in their mattresses. 

What Will Future Generations Say?

Future generations will ask, “What was

The Corner of 37th Avenue and 79th Street in Jackson Heights, Queens
On the corner of 37th
Avenue and 79th Street
 in Jackson Heights, Queens

the Twenty Twentys like?” My friend Amira’s child, who is now ten months old, will want to know what he did during the quarantine. “Mostly eat and sleep,” Mom will say. “But it was a long time before you saw real people besides the doctors who birthed you and us.” And Sam will say, “OK. I survived a global pandemic.”

Recognizing That This is a Deadly Virus

As of today, 532,466 people have died in the United States; and, worldwide over 2.5 million people have perished. I recognize I’m privileged because I’m vaccinated and generally healthy (although I need to lay off the potato chips and ranch dressing). The pandemic has disproportionately hit the most vulnerable of society. I realize I’m in-person with students — so there’s always a risk I can be infected. But think about folks who work essential jobs and live in small apartments where everyone is working, coming into contact with many people. I can slink away to the haven of a more-or-less safe space in my apartment.

I think this global crisis has revealed just how fragile the ties that bind are. I’m grateful for today. I mourn those lost to Covid-19, and I’m hopeful for the future.

Kristen Ahfeld waves for the camera in the courtyard of the Garden School in Jackson Heights, Queens
Kristen Ahfeld is a
First Grade Teacher in Queens.
How was your Covid-19 lockdown anniversary — and how are you coping? Let me know in the comments. ⁣

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