Date: 2013
Location: Red Bluff, CA
Stop #1: Reach Program
Student Type: Fighting To Survive
After a few right turns and a left my escort and camera person for the day, Tom Watson, parks us outside the portable building that hosts the Reach Program. Like many of the programs I've visited since June 28th this is where the discontent, unwanted, misfits of the teen world take refuge, connect and respect their diverse landscape of ethnicity, age and sexuality. Reach kids earn a high school degree outside the confines of traditional education. No pep rallies, glee club or mandatory dress code. Here kids savor the flavor of showing and not hiding who they are.
This is where the brave live.
I fumble my camera and sound gear for the documentary I've been making since I started the Fat Angie book tour. This jaunt across America in rented cars, with donated books (hollar to you A.S. King, C.G. Watson, Kathy Erskine, Meg Medina, Sally Derby & Candlewick Press) and the generosity of friends of strangers who have given me a bed and plate of food still amazes me. I mention this loosely to the kids who have twisted around in their plastic seats.
At the front of the room, I dymystify the GoPro camera by revealing the feed it sends to my iPhone. A few "that's cool" and "sweet" and I quickly assign kids to act as my film crew for the visit.
"This is the part where you make me look good," I say to the crew. "Okay?"
Chuckles spread. A few kids still take the temp on me. I'm down with that. I have to earn their trust.
Tom rolls his camera, and the show is on.
The show? Well, we're at Red Bluff, CA to change lives. Yes, that's exactly what I said. You see, these kids have been counted out more than they've been counted in. They are my chosen fringe-cringe kid community of change makers.
"What did you know about me? Before I walked in?" I say.
Eager Boy In An Oversized White Hoodie Whose Height Can't Catch Up With His Enthusiasm says, "Can I call you rockstar?"
The kids laugh.
"Yes!" I say with enthusiasm. "Just don't call me Ewe because that's a female sheep. Okay, I digress let's move on."
I tell them how I wanted to be the drummer for KISS as a kid, win an Oscar and make it out of my small Texas town. How I came from a home harder than soft. How life as the underdog isn't the worst thing they've been handed.
Most of all, I tell them that I believe in them.
My teen camera crew moves in for a closer shot when I say, "What are you doing? On your classmates. They're clapping."
Laughter and the camera and mic swing that way.
[insert image of kids clapping]
We talk tough topics at the Reach Program. We talk about differences in and out of the room. We are brave in our rapport and don't pull punches (metaphorically speaking, of course).
After a group icebreaker, I do my story magic trick. I "spit" a narrative on the spot with words they've generated. I want them to see that their words have potential.
The potential to change, influence, entertain and heal.
More clapping then I say, "Okay, what do you know about me now?"
I say this 1) to keep them engaged and 2) to demonstrate the development of a character in writing.
Mr. Eager White Hoodie Whose Height Can't Keep Up says, "You're the tattooed rockstar Wexican."
"Word!" I say.
On tour stops, I always reveal I'm the whitest Mexican American in America. How my camoflage is a bonus and not a minus. Jokingly, I get him to repeat it for the camera. Stressing the importance of the new handle.
A young lady shares my director for the day is a singer/musician. Cameras pan from me to her. "We're ready," I say.
She hasn't tracked the "ready."
"We're ready for you to sing."
She accepts the challenge with a confidence I would never have for belting it in front of a class and a tattooed rockstar Wexican.
[insert video]
Now, who's the rockstar?
I send my camera crew to their seats. It's time for everyone to rock the word on the solo. Fiction or nonfiction. It's their decide. I scribble a prompt on the dry erase board and send them to task.
[insert images of writing]??
Over thirty-one states and through the inconceivable kindness from strangers and friends, I am the tattooed rockstar Wexican who writes YA lit and inspires the uninspired to harness their voice through creativity. It's the kind of risk I never imagined I'd take. Like Matt de la Pena says, "
The tenatious kids at Reach have had hell handed to them in plate fulls. But on that Monday morning they are there. In those seats. Engaging, raging, listening and showing up.
You gotta respect the human spirit!
restored my faith in possibility
Bands tour. In mini-vans, Scooby Doo vans or a lux bus if they've really made it.
I'm not a band. I'm still a rockstar. Well, sorta.
I stuffed my life into a shared storage unit, rented a Ford Focus and took to the road June 28th. For three months (yes, it went on slightly longer), I would travel America and workshop with at-risk youth at no cost to their programs.
The kids get code names based on what they're wearing and sometimes affect. Today Mr. Orange sits in the back beside Ms. Smiley.
________
Time: 7:35 A.M. (Pacific)
Location: Red Bluff, CA
Stop #1: Reach Program
Student Type: Fighting To Survive
After a few right turns and a left my escort and camera person for the day, Tom Watson, parks us outside the portable building that hosts the Reach Program. Like many of the programs I've visited since June 28th this is where the discontent, unwanted, misfits of the teen world take refuge, connect and respect their diverse landscape of ethnicity, age and sexuality. Reach kids earn a high school degree outside the confines of traditional education. No pep rallies, glee club or mandatory dress code. Here kids savor the flavor of showing and not hiding who they are.
This is where the brave live.
I fumble my camera and sound gear for the documentary I've been making since I started the Fat Angie book tour. This jaunt across America in rented cars, with donated books (hollar to you A.S. King, C.G. Watson, Kathy Erskine, Meg Medina, Sally Derby & Candlewick Press) and the generosity of friends of strangers who have given me a bed and plate of food still amazes me. I mention this loosely to the kids who have twisted around in their plastic seats.
At the front of the room, I dymystify the GoPro camera by revealing the feed it sends to my iPhone. A few "that's cool" and "sweet" and I quickly assign kids to act as my film crew for the visit.
"This is the part where you make me look good," I say to the crew. "Okay?"
Chuckles spread. A few kids still take the temp on me. I'm down with that. I have to earn their trust.
Tom rolls his camera, and the show is on.
The show? Well, we're at Red Bluff, CA to change lives. Yes, that's exactly what I said. You see, these kids have been counted out more than they've been counted in. They are my chosen fringe-cringe kid community of change makers. They're my heroes because the war wounds of life are deeply imprinted on these kids, and they are still here.
As for this show I mention, it is the Fat Angie book tour At-Risk Summer. It is where I travel across American and provide access to a creative mentor to the kids who don't come out for signings and library events.
"What did you know about me? Before I walked in?" I say.
Eager By In an Oversized White Hoodie Whose Height Can't Catch Up With His Enthusiasm says, "That you're a rockstar."
The kids laugh.
"I mean, that's what I think you are."
I tell them how I wanted to be the drummer for KISS as a kid, win an Oscar and make it out of my small Texas town. How I came from a home harder than soft. How life as the underdog isn't the worst thing they've been handed.
Most of all, I tell them that I believe in them.
My teen camera crew moves in for a closer shot when I say, "What are you doing? On your classmates. They're clapping."
Laughter and the camera and mic swing that way.
We talk tough topics at the Reach Program. We talk about the differences in and out of the room. We are brave together in our rapport and don't pull punches (metaphorically speaking).
After a group icebreaker, I do my story magic trick. I "spit" a narrative on the spot with words they've generated. I want them to see that their words have potential.
The potential to change, influence, entertain and heal.
More clapping then I say, "Okay, what do you know about me now?"
I say this 1) to keep them engaged and 2) to demonstrate the development of a character in writing.
Mr. Eager White Hoodie Whose Height Can't Keep Up says, "You're the tattooed rockstar Wexican."
On the tour, I always reveal I'm the whitest Mexican American in America. How my camoflage is a bonus and not a minus. Right then, that little-big young man perfectly packaged my persona.
Jokingly, I get him to repeat it for the camera. Stressing the importance of the new handle.
Soon after it is revealed that my director for the day is a musician, we pull the cameras back, and I say, "We're ready."
She hasn't tracked it yet.
"We're ready for you to sing."
She accepts the challenge with a confidence I would never have for belting it in front of a class and a tattooed rockstar Wexican.
[insert video]
Now, who's the rockstar?
I send my camera crew back to their seats. It's time for everyone to rock the word. Fiction or nonfiction. It's their decide. I scribble a prompt on the dry erase board and send them to task.
[insert images of writing]??
Over thirty-one states and through the inconceivable kindness from strangers and friends, I am the tattooed rockstar Wexican who writes YA lit and inspires the uninspired to harness their voice through creativity. It's the kind of risk I never imagined I'd take. Like Matt de la Pena says, "
The tenatious kids at Reach have had hell handed to them in plate fulls. But on that Monday morning they are there. In those seats. Engaging, raging, listening and showing up.
You gotta respect the human spirit!
restored my faith in possibility
Bands tour. In mini-vans, Scooby Doo vans or a lux bus if they've really made it.
I'm not a band. I'm still a rockstar. Well, sorta.
I stuffed my life into a shared storage unit, rented a Ford Focus and took to the road June 28th. For three months (yes, it went on slightly longer), I would travel America and workshop with at-risk youth at no cost to their programs.
The kids get code names based on what they're wearing and sometimes affect. Today Mr. Orange sits in the back beside Ms. Smiley.
Location: Red Bluff, CA
Stop #1: Reach Program
Student Type: Fighting To Survive
After a few right turns and a left my escort and camera person for the day, Tom Watson, parks us outside the portable building that hosts the Reach Program. Like many of the programs I've visited since June 28th this is where the discontent, unwanted, misfits of the teen world take refuge, connect and respect their diverse landscape of ethnicity, age and sexuality. Reach kids earn a high school degree outside the confines of traditional education. No pep rallies, glee club or mandatory dress code. Here kids savor the flavor of showing and not hiding who they are.
This is where the brave live.
I fumble my camera and sound gear for the documentary I've been making since I started the Fat Angie book tour. This jaunt across America in rented cars, with donated books (hollar to you A.S. King, C.G. Watson, Kathy Erskine, Meg Medina, Sally Derby & Candlewick Press) and the generosity of friends of strangers who have given me a bed and plate of food still amazes me. I mention this loosely to the kids who have twisted around in their plastic seats.
At the front of the room, I dymystify the GoPro camera by revealing the feed it sends to my iPhone. A few "that's cool" and "sweet" and I quickly assign kids to act as my film crew for the visit.
"This is the part where you make me look good," I say to the crew. "Okay?"
Chuckles spread. A few kids still take the temp on me. I'm down with that. I have to earn their trust.
Tom rolls his camera, and the show is on.
The show? Well, we're at Red Bluff, CA to change lives. Yes, that's exactly what I said. You see, these kids have been counted out more than they've been counted in. They are my chosen fringe-cringe kid community of change makers.
"What did you know about me? Before I walked in?" I say.
Eager Boy In An Oversized White Hoodie Whose Height Can't Catch Up With His Enthusiasm says, "Can I call you rockstar?"
The kids laugh.
"Yes!" I say with enthusiasm. "Just don't call me Ewe because that's a female sheep. Okay, I digress let's move on."
I tell them how I wanted to be the drummer for KISS as a kid, win an Oscar and make it out of my small Texas town. How I came from a home harder than soft. How life as the underdog isn't the worst thing they've been handed.
Most of all, I tell them that I believe in them.
My teen camera crew moves in for a closer shot when I say, "What are you doing? On your classmates. They're clapping."
Laughter and the camera and mic swing that way.
[insert image of kids clapping]
We talk tough topics at the Reach Program. We talk about differences in and out of the room. We are brave in our rapport and don't pull punches (metaphorically speaking, of course).
After a group icebreaker, I do my story magic trick. I "spit" a narrative on the spot with words they've generated. I want them to see that their words have potential.
The potential to change, influence, entertain and heal.
More clapping then I say, "Okay, what do you know about me now?"
I say this 1) to keep them engaged and 2) to demonstrate the development of a character in writing.
Mr. Eager White Hoodie Whose Height Can't Keep Up says, "You're the tattooed rockstar Wexican."
"Word!" I say.
On tour stops, I always reveal I'm the whitest Mexican American in America. How my camoflage is a bonus and not a minus. Jokingly, I get him to repeat it for the camera. Stressing the importance of the new handle.
A young lady shares my director for the day is a singer/musician. Cameras pan from me to her. "We're ready," I say.
She hasn't tracked the "ready."
"We're ready for you to sing."
She accepts the challenge with a confidence I would never have for belting it in front of a class and a tattooed rockstar Wexican.
[insert video]
Now, who's the rockstar?
I send my camera crew to their seats. It's time for everyone to rock the word on the solo. Fiction or nonfiction. It's their decide. I scribble a prompt on the dry erase board and send them to task.
[insert images of writing]??
Over thirty-one states and through the inconceivable kindness from strangers and friends, I am the tattooed rockstar Wexican who writes YA lit and inspires the uninspired to harness their voice through creativity. It's the kind of risk I never imagined I'd take. Like Matt de la Pena says, "
The tenatious kids at Reach have had hell handed to them in plate fulls. But on that Monday morning they are there. In those seats. Engaging, raging, listening and showing up.
You gotta respect the human spirit!
restored my faith in possibility
Bands tour. In mini-vans, Scooby Doo vans or a lux bus if they've really made it.
I'm not a band. I'm still a rockstar. Well, sorta.
I stuffed my life into a shared storage unit, rented a Ford Focus and took to the road June 28th. For three months (yes, it went on slightly longer), I would travel America and workshop with at-risk youth at no cost to their programs.
The kids get code names based on what they're wearing and sometimes affect. Today Mr. Orange sits in the back beside Ms. Smiley.
________
Time: 7:35 A.M. (Pacific)
Location: Red Bluff, CA
Stop #1: Reach Program
Student Type: Fighting To Survive
After a few right turns and a left my escort and camera person for the day, Tom Watson, parks us outside the portable building that hosts the Reach Program. Like many of the programs I've visited since June 28th this is where the discontent, unwanted, misfits of the teen world take refuge, connect and respect their diverse landscape of ethnicity, age and sexuality. Reach kids earn a high school degree outside the confines of traditional education. No pep rallies, glee club or mandatory dress code. Here kids savor the flavor of showing and not hiding who they are.
This is where the brave live.
I fumble my camera and sound gear for the documentary I've been making since I started the Fat Angie book tour. This jaunt across America in rented cars, with donated books (hollar to you A.S. King, C.G. Watson, Kathy Erskine, Meg Medina, Sally Derby & Candlewick Press) and the generosity of friends of strangers who have given me a bed and plate of food still amazes me. I mention this loosely to the kids who have twisted around in their plastic seats.
At the front of the room, I dymystify the GoPro camera by revealing the feed it sends to my iPhone. A few "that's cool" and "sweet" and I quickly assign kids to act as my film crew for the visit.
"This is the part where you make me look good," I say to the crew. "Okay?"
Chuckles spread. A few kids still take the temp on me. I'm down with that. I have to earn their trust.
Tom rolls his camera, and the show is on.
The show? Well, we're at Red Bluff, CA to change lives. Yes, that's exactly what I said. You see, these kids have been counted out more than they've been counted in. They are my chosen fringe-cringe kid community of change makers. They're my heroes because the war wounds of life are deeply imprinted on these kids, and they are still here.
As for this show I mention, it is the Fat Angie book tour At-Risk Summer. It is where I travel across American and provide access to a creative mentor to the kids who don't come out for signings and library events.
"What did you know about me? Before I walked in?" I say.
Eager By In an Oversized White Hoodie Whose Height Can't Catch Up With His Enthusiasm says, "That you're a rockstar."
The kids laugh.
"I mean, that's what I think you are."
I tell them how I wanted to be the drummer for KISS as a kid, win an Oscar and make it out of my small Texas town. How I came from a home harder than soft. How life as the underdog isn't the worst thing they've been handed.
Most of all, I tell them that I believe in them.
My teen camera crew moves in for a closer shot when I say, "What are you doing? On your classmates. They're clapping."
Laughter and the camera and mic swing that way.
We talk tough topics at the Reach Program. We talk about the differences in and out of the room. We are brave together in our rapport and don't pull punches (metaphorically speaking).
After a group icebreaker, I do my story magic trick. I "spit" a narrative on the spot with words they've generated. I want them to see that their words have potential.
The potential to change, influence, entertain and heal.
More clapping then I say, "Okay, what do you know about me now?"
I say this 1) to keep them engaged and 2) to demonstrate the development of a character in writing.
Mr. Eager White Hoodie Whose Height Can't Keep Up says, "You're the tattooed rockstar Wexican."
On the tour, I always reveal I'm the whitest Mexican American in America. How my camoflage is a bonus and not a minus. Right then, that little-big young man perfectly packaged my persona.
Jokingly, I get him to repeat it for the camera. Stressing the importance of the new handle.
Soon after it is revealed that my director for the day is a musician, we pull the cameras back, and I say, "We're ready."
She hasn't tracked it yet.
"We're ready for you to sing."
She accepts the challenge with a confidence I would never have for belting it in front of a class and a tattooed rockstar Wexican.
[insert video]
Now, who's the rockstar?
I send my camera crew back to their seats. It's time for everyone to rock the word. Fiction or nonfiction. It's their decide. I scribble a prompt on the dry erase board and send them to task.
[insert images of writing]??
Over thirty-one states and through the inconceivable kindness from strangers and friends, I am the tattooed rockstar Wexican who writes YA lit and inspires the uninspired to harness their voice through creativity. It's the kind of risk I never imagined I'd take. Like Matt de la Pena says, "
The tenatious kids at Reach have had hell handed to them in plate fulls. But on that Monday morning they are there. In those seats. Engaging, raging, listening and showing up.
You gotta respect the human spirit!
restored my faith in possibility
Bands tour. In mini-vans, Scooby Doo vans or a lux bus if they've really made it.
I'm not a band. I'm still a rockstar. Well, sorta.
I stuffed my life into a shared storage unit, rented a Ford Focus and took to the road June 28th. For three months (yes, it went on slightly longer), I would travel America and workshop with at-risk youth at no cost to their programs.
The kids get code names based on what they're wearing and sometimes affect. Today Mr. Orange sits in the back beside Ms. Smiley.
