(Un)Noticed (May 2003)

ever have a day when you really just wanted to be unnoticed? to just invisibly maneuver through your necessary activities and return as quickly as possible to the comforts of your home? today was one of those days. no particular reason... just was feeling contemplative, pondering things... and it was rainy... you know how it is.

i've learned something about having those days. i've learned that if i wake up and suddenly sense an urge to glide covertly through my day, i should not leave my room. because if i DO leave my room, i am bound to become the center of attention in EVERY SINGLE WAY POSSIBLE. this has happened before. oh yes. last time i awoke with this vague desire for anonymity, i found myself later that day being SO MUCH the center of random strangers' attention that, medically speaking, i should have had a stroke and died. because ALL the blood in my body was making a beeline for my face. there are eyewitnesses that could testify to this, but i made them promise under penalty of excruciating torture to never speak of this occasion again.

but i digress. today was a NEW day, a NEW opportunity for embarrassment! MANY opportunities, in fact! i should have known, really, when my first activity of the day was to do a teaching observation at PS 181 in crown heights. for those of you who are not familiar with brooklyn, allow me to briefly show you the ropes. brooklyn is a wonderful borough that i am proud to call home, ripe with beauty and diversity, and i encourage all of you to visit. however, you really need to know your neighborhoods if you intend to leave again with all your body parts. allow me to make an analogy...

if you are familiar with skiing, you'll recall that different ski slopes have different symbols to designate which areas are for beginner skiers and which are for those with more experience. "green circles" indicate beginner slopes, "blue squares" indicate intermediates, and "black diamonds" indicate expert slopes. recently, ski areas have upgraded some slopes to "double black diamonds," designated for "most advanced skiers only." i've heard that there are triple black diamond slopes in the works. being a skier myself, and also being an individual who eminates some kind of aura that Trouble and Mishaps find irresistible... i found myself once atop a double black diamond slope with noooo way to get back to the lodge except down. i tentatively placed one of my skis on the hill and, almost instantaneously, found myself face down in the snow approximately 100 feet from the top. both skis had dislodged- one had found refuge in a small ditch on the side of the slope while the other was happily and freely sailing all the way down to the bottom of the mountain. i also somehow managed to lose both of my poles, with one ending up atop a small tree. i later declared that if hell were a ski lodge, all slopes would be double blacks. in fact, i proposed that those constructing the triple black slopes might as well just change the name to "Dismemberment Slopes" and modify the symbol appropriately, perhaps having an organ donation table conveniently located at the top of the mountain. "just in case."

getting back to brooklyn, there are various "degrees of difficulty" in terms of surviving in its neighborhoods. and, to briefly allude to golf, some people also have handicaps (which, for those who are unaware, is a number that you use when playing golf that is proportionate to your skill level and is figured into your score, so that if you're horrible you don't always lose embarrassingly. the worse you are, the higher your handicap.) people who have grown up in the brooklyn their whole life wouldn't even NEED a handicap. they would be perfectly fine strolling into any old place and not have to fear for their life. someone like me, however, probably has a handicap that stretches into the billions. people tell me that it's a wonder i survived poughkeepsie, let alone brooklyn. so, of course, rather than placing me in a nice "green circle" brooklyn neighborhood like park slope or brooklyn heights... i was placed in "Dismemberment." actually that's not true. there are neighborhoods worse than crown heights. but it's at LEAST a double black.

so i walked up to the school, surrounded by fences and padlocks and barred windows, and i'm feeling veeeery much like i did at the top of that ski slope. i brightly and innocently bound into this school and direct myself to the classroom, and i suddenly sense that everyone is staring at me. remember that goal to be unnoticed? sloooooowly fading out of reach. and because i'm just that naive sometimes, i found myself wondering "why are they all looking at me? is my zipper undone? do i have something in my teeth? toilet paper stuck to my shoe?" and then i realized that most of these kindergarteners and 1st graders, most of whom are from the west indies, are probably thinking "somebody forgot to color her in!"

so all through the observation (which happened to be in 3rd grade), i was getting stared at. i tried my best to just fade into the woodwork and take notes, but children are obnoxious sometimes and these kids would just stroll up to me and stare. or yell "teacher, who's that girl??" i escaped unscathed... perhaps a ski pole of pride was dangling somewhere amidst the barred windows, but all limbs and vital organs still intact. after a quick stop at home, i had to go into manhattan to get a PPD test at my doctor's office (that's the one where they stick you with a needle and make a little bubble on your arm- way cool). this was literally a two-minute procedure and i was outta there. hardly time to make a scene, you say.

*chuckle*

first the nurse gets out her materials and begins prepping the needle. i have a sick fascination with needles, so i'm sitting there watching... and the nurse seems to be having some trouble. she keeps muttering under her breath and reinserting the needle into the little jar of liquid that the needle needs to suck up. my heart gives a little flutter but i'm cool... just a pesky needle. she finally gets the needle prepped and then, nurse-like, flicks the end of the needle to get rid of excess liquid or any gas bubbles. my confidence returns in her. until she somehow manages to flick ALL OF THE LIQUID out of the needle. *expletive!*, she says and i'm suddenly paralyzed with an urge to run screaming out of the room. this circus continues with the nurse alternating between sucking up the liquid and flicking all the liquid out of the needle until i was ready to grab the needle, jam it in my arm and hightail it. she finally managed to obtain the right amount of liquid and the procedure was about to begin... when another nurse enters the room and says "i need to borrow some gloves." the nurse kindly obliges and gets set to inject the needle... when another nurse comes in and says "i need to borrow some gloves." and then a third nurse and a fourth, all asking for gloves. i was already convinced that i was in the twilight zone, so i just started laughing. my nurse said "why do you need gloves?" and another calmly replied, "there was a urine incident."

now, in my finite mind, i do not even dare to speculate. but as the company of nurses exited the room, they announced rather loudly "make sure you get that girl cleaned up!" i'm assuming that they were referring to the "urine incident." what i failed to notice was that the bathroom was located DIRECTLY across from the room i was in, and there were no other rooms between us, the bathroom, and the waiting area. so when i left after getting my shot, all the patients in the waiting room were looking curiously at me. it wasn't until i was in the elevator that i realized in horror that they thought i was the girl involved in the urine incident. strike two.

strike three was even more amusing because of its prophetic nature... i had a brief interlude back home before heading to BT choir rehearsal- we were pre-recording for our new album called "This Is Your House"- and i was talking to stacy online for a minute. she gleefully and impishly remarked that i was now a "recording artist," and i chuckled, quipping that i was actually a "let-me-not-be-the-one-to-mess-up-and-make-us-have-to-do-another-take-artist." ha ha. jokes. mirth.

until we were on our fifth song of the night, trying to prerecord "i'm going with Jesus" for the third time, and amy's mind wanders. not far, just a brief meandering, but it managed to slip away for one crucial second. and, instead of finishing the chorus and waiting for the music to play through the soloist's verse, amy steamrolls right into into the next chorus. she only got as far as "I'M...." before she realized that she had unwittingly began her first solo at the brooklyn tabernacle. she was absolutely MORTIFIED and she saw kareem (the asst. director who was directing us that evening) glance up into the alto section, looking for the perpetrator. the take was already shot, so people started to talk to each other. and some well-meaning but idiotic soul called out "it's okay, amy!" great. wonderful. i'm now BLACKLISTED. as well as mortified. moved up in the ranks from one classroom of children to a filled waiting room of adults to approximately 300 choir members who i see on a very regular basis.

i had already thrown in the towel in terms of getting through the day unnoticed-- by this point i was aiming to just get through alive. so i ran out of the church after rehearsal and joy! the #2 subway is waiting for me as i enter the station. i ran through the turnstile and leaped onto the train in one fluid motion as the doors shut. pretty slick, i thought to myself. the train's rumbling along and suddenly the conductor emerges from her cell, looks straight at me and bellows "ARE YOU GETTING OFF AT THE NEXT STOP???" stricken, i said "um... no, bergen street." all heads swivel. she continues "CAUSE YOUR COAT'S STUCK IN THE DOOR. AND THOSE DOORS DON'T OPEN UNTIL ATLANTIC AVENUE." passengers begin to chuckle. i reach down and, lo and behold, my graceful leap in front of the closing doors was not quite as slick or as effective as i had imagined it to be. desperatly grasping for some modicum of pride, i attempted to laugh it off and said "oops! well, no problem, i'll just get myself unstuck at atlantic." but, of course, when we arrived at atlantic avenue, there were kajillions of people waiting to get on the train. and, of COURSE, the train doors didn't open right away. so i was able to peer out through the windows and watch the people snickering outside at the piece of black coat stuck between the subway doors. it was all over.

i'm back in my room now and my roommate's not here, so if i embarrass myself now, it'll only be me who sees it. tune in next time for further adventures....