Monday, April 30, 2018

Nows and Thens

On a day that started with the assistant principal giving a ten minute lecture to the sixth graders which consisted entirely of don'ts and or elses, the parent of a student stopped by our team meeting. He was there to sign some paperwork, but also to discuss some concerns the teachers have about his son's behavior. We spent some time problem solving and putting a few supportive strategies in place.

Even though I do not have the boy in my class, I was glad to meet his dad, because I remember when he was a student at our school. Twenty years ago he was in the most restrictive program for kids who had trouble controlling their behavior.

"You were here then?" he asked, squinting.

"Yep!" I answered cheerfully.

"The school has changed so much since then," he said.

"We have a lot new windows and classrooms," I agreed.

"Nah," he said, "I mean, everyone is so helpful now. They want my son to succeed. Back then it was all punishment, punishment, punishment." He shook his head.

We were silent for a moment.

"I guess we've all grown since then," I told him. "At least I hope so."

Sunday, April 29, 2018

Recovery Period

After sleeping in a little longer than usual, I had to down a cup of strong coffee and slip on my shades before I stepped out into the brisk April morning with the dog today. Oh, it wasn't alcohol that gave me this hangover: it was just a week of getting everything ready for a houseful of guests and then three days of celebration.

Whew! I am looking forward to getting back to work tomorrow. Middle School will be a nice break!

Saturday, April 28, 2018

Lucky Dog

It's not every dog who gets to celebrate her one year adoption at a canine sports club with a dozen of her besties wrestling and playing on the agility equipment while jamming out to a Hits of the 90s playlist.

Oh, and then there was this:



Her very own cocktail menu! (Thanks, Bill!) With cookies and cupcakes and veggies and chips  and drinks for the people and cake for the dogs, Lucy's party was one to remember.

Friday, April 27, 2018

Overheard in the Museum of American History



Never mind the hat, I'll just take the whip.








Who's Julia Child?

Thursday, April 26, 2018

The Ups and Downs of Extraterrestrial Life

Today's Jolly Rancher Challenge, after yesterday's assignment to write an ode to a planet, was to say the best thing and the worst thing about living on another planet. The answers were straight out of Kids Say the Darndest Things.

"The solitude would be a plus," said one guy, "but the suffocation would be pretty bad."

"I would love all the newness!" another student told me, "but? Ugh! No WiFi!"

"The low gravity would be great, but the -600 temps would be pretty cold."

"I'd love to see the rings every day, but no solid surface would make it hard to walk around."

"Well, I'd never be cold on Venus," a girl said, "but I don't think I would live very long!"

Wednesday, April 25, 2018

No Witnesses

They tore the trees out today. Years ago, when they first planted the birches, and a school renovation enlarged my windows, I made a deal with my students that I would never close the blinds. If they could stay focused, we could all enjoy the natural light. Since then, I've kept my word and so has every group of kids, through snow and rain and thunder and wind, and this year, even through the construction of a whole school outside.

The digging, the noise, the crane, the bulldozers, the concrete mixers-- we have regarded it all with mild interest, even as the leaves turned golden and then fell, giving us a better view of those proceedings. And now spring has arrived. And this morning, just as the first green was velveting the graceful white branches, men in hard hats and bobcats with chains and saws assailed the trees and rather savagely took them down and moved them out of the way, presumably for some next phase.

For that? I closed the blinds.

Tuesday, April 24, 2018

Good Call

One of the assistants in our school is a former student. Young, smart, energetic, and full of positive energy, she brightens any class she works with.

This morning I looked across the room during the announcements to see Z throwing his shoes over the table at her. She nimbly dodged the flying sneakers and, when he was out of ammunition, calmly asked if he wanted to go to the gym to walk around.

Shaking his head furiously, he snatched his beloved school bus pictures from the floor and tore them in two.

"How about the clinic?" she suggested. "Do you want to go lie down?"

He visibly relaxed and nodded.

"Let's go," she said, and as she led him out of the room in his socks, I heard her tell him, "Next time you're tired just ask to rest. You don't have to throw your shoes at me!"

A few minutes later she was back. "How is he?" I asked.

"He was asleep before I left," she reported.

Monday, April 23, 2018

Blank Verse

Today was the hardest day of the annual poetry challenge... Shakespearean sonnets!

I love my students this year, but perseverance in the face of academic adversity is not a strong suit for the group. As such, there were complaints, and to amuse myself and demonstrate the meter, I answered them in iambic pentameter.

"Do not give up before you try the job!" I encouraged, counting syllables as I spoke. "I know it's hard, but you are well-prepared!"

And then as the day wore on, it seemed as if my entire discourse became blank verse.
You know that chewing gum is not allowed. 
New reading logs are over in the bin.
The poem you wrote is really pretty good.
A pencil is a must to bring to class.
Your iPad should be charging every night.
And finally?

"Why do we have to write this stupid poem?" I suggested as the first line of a Shakespearean rant sonnet to a verrrry frustrated kid.

Sunday, April 22, 2018

The Eye of the Storm

Yes, we are having house guests on Thursday, and yes, our house is an absolute mess. Boxes full of stuff from the pre-painted living room filling up the guest room; new curtains are hung over one window, but still in the bag for the other; a new rug has been ordered and will be delivered Tuesday. All our artwork is leaning against walls hoping to be hung from the new hardware we purchased at Home Depot today. Oh, we didn't get as much done this weekend as we wanted, but puppy sitting lunch and dinner invitations with friends and family had to take precedent.

These days we try to always choose people over things. The living room? Will come together. The guest room? Will be a comfortable place to stay. And most of all, we'll get to spend some time with dear friends celebrating Josh's accomplishments over the last four years, which is what we'll remember later on.

Saturday, April 21, 2018

Yip-Yang

The Zen of puppy playtime:



Friday, April 20, 2018

From Adam

This afternoon we were in line at a grocery store about 30 miles from home. "Adam!" a customer service employee called to a manager walking away from the register he had been manning, "your lane light is still on." I glanced up to see a man of about 35 with a neatly trimmed beard, but my brain automatically erased both the beard and the last 20 years. I knew him immediately as the aggravating 12-year-old boy he was in sixth grade, and I remembered how the two of us spent that year at odds: he, defiant, and I, frustrated.

It was not one of my prouder teaching experiences, and I was humbled and then hopeful that I might be more successful if he were my student now.

I studied him as he stood chatting. He looked so much more relaxed and confident, and especially happier, than he had the last time I saw him. Oh, I could have gone over and explained who I was, but this time I decided not to.

Everyone deserves the chance to outgrow themselves.

Thursday, April 19, 2018

Under the Influence

We were warned.

When Heidi decided to take the sedation for the extensive dental work she needed, both her parents told her tales of their wacky behavior while under the influence of those drugs. Her dad leaned out the window of the car making the sign of the cross in the air and mumbling blessings at all the other drivers until her mom rolled up the window and sharply reminded him that he was not a priest.

Her mother could not stop worrying about the piano. Was it safe? Would the movers be careful with it? Did it need tuning. "We don't have a piano," Heidi's dad said, but when that did not calm her mom's worrying he switched his story. "The piano's fine!" he told her. "All taken care of!"

Heidi was directed to take one pill an hour before her appointment and another 30 minutes later. "How do you feel?" I asked her as we headed out to the car.

"A little wobbly," she admitted. Five minutes later we were stopped at a light, and she was slumped in her seat, head lolling a bit. "That baby on the dog," she said, "it isn't a good idea"

"What baby?" I asked her.

"Back there," she told me. "They wanted the baby to ride the dog. I'm pretty sure I saw rope, too," she added seriously, "for extra security."

"I didn't see that," I told her.

The light changed and we continued on to the dentist. A few blocks later she said, "Whoa! We just ran over a ghost in the middle of the road."

"What!?" I cried.

"He was sitting in a school chair in the middle of the road. He looked right at me, and then pffft! We ran over him."

"Was he like Casper the ghost or like a person ghost?" I asked her.

"Person," she confirmed.

"How old was he?"

"Thirties?" she shrugged. "With red hair and a red sweater. He didn't look worried, but I was like, Do you really have to be in this lane? and then pshtttt, you ran through him."

I was laughing as we pulled up to the dentist office, and and still giggling as I helped her out of the car. Everyone in the waiting room looked up as 2 middle-aged ladies staggered in giggling. "I'm ready!" Heidi announced, and off she toddled to have her teeth fixed up.

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

The Good Old Days

We note the passing of Barbara Bush today. One may not have agreed with her on all things, but it was definitely impossible to fault her for her grace and civility. Even when, during the 1984 election, she famously snapped that Geraldine Ferraro was something that rhymed with "rich", she later regretted the harshness of her words and apologized. She showed us how to disagree courteously and with integrity.

My! How far we've come.

Tuesday, April 17, 2018

In the Van Guard

I needed a new pair of sneakers for the spring, so I ran up to the big box shoe place on Sunday to look around. Years ago when I lived at the beach, my signature summer kicks were white slip-on Vans, and I actually bought a pair of gray canvas Vans last spring. This time my eye was drawn to a black suede pair with white trim, and when I tried them on, they were so comfortable I wanted to wear them out of the store. I resisted, mostly because of the rain, and it rained again yesterday, too, so my new shoes had their official debut today.

Oh my goodness! You might have thought I found a cure for homework! There were so many compliments from so many kids, even some I didn't know. With my jeans and black crew neck sweater, it seems like I was rocking the look. In fact, when I looked around my third period class I saw two girls who were wearing a variation of my own outfit down to the Vans.

Fashion has never been my thing-- I like what I like and I like to wear it regularly-- but after a day like today? At least I understand the fuss!




Monday, April 16, 2018

To the Highest Power

We use some of our team meeting time to touch base and see what everyone is working on in their subject area classes. Today I started. “In English, we’re doing poetry and the daily poetry challenge,” I reported. “How about science?”

“Science fair,” one of the science teachers said.

“We’re doing civics and the appellate courts,” the social studies teachers told us.

“And math?” I asked.

The math teacher gave us a deadpan look. “State tests are coming,” she answered, “we’re praying!”

Sunday, April 15, 2018

Second Wind

I think the pups are all worn out. Haha. Cooper is laying on the couch arm rest, Theo is in my lap, and Lucy is laying on the lobster bed, the text read.

It was hardly surprising-- Lucy and her buddies had been playing for at least 90 minutes, so Heidi headed over to pick our puppy up from her playdate. But the minute she appeared, just after Cooper's person, the dogs were in full swing again-- running and tumbling and wrestling throughout the small condo.

As she told me the tale, I laughed. "Don't you remember that from when you were a kid? You could be bored out of your mind with your cousins or your friends, but the minute your mom showed up to say it was time to go home? There were soooo many things left to do!"

Saturday, April 14, 2018

Arigato Francis

Tonight was the family dinner for my brother's birthday. What can I say? The guy likes dumplings, and so as I was planning the menu, I figured a lobster potsticker might be a good appetizer. I have made filled wontons and dumplings in the past, and although they are generally successful, there have been some notable fails. Plus, I don't make them regularly enough to have a go-to recipe, or wrapper, or technique. As such, I did what many 21st century cooks do: I turned to the internet.

Recently, I noticed that whenever my sixth grade students search for something, they automatically start with images. To me that makes no sense whatsoever, but most of the kids in my class are very visual, and they are actually rather adept at finding useful information by clicking on a picture link. "Why do you do that?" I asked a student the other day.

"It's easier than reading," he told me.

Today I was looking for old-fashioned written recipes, and I had actually found a couple of promising leads, when I saw the website "Cooking with Dog". I couldn't end my search without at least a look there. It turned out to be a YouTube show hosted by a French Poodle named Francis. Francis narrates the videos in heavily accented English as a Japanese woman cooks from her kitchen. I know right? It's a nutty concept, but I must tell you, Francis and that lady really know their gyoza! There were several tips and tricks that helped me make some delicious potstickers.

And hey kids! I didn't have to read a word.

Friday, April 13, 2018

National Humor Month

April is many "national" months-- poetry, of course, and also lawn and garden, grilled cheese, soft pretzel, garlic, jazz appreciation, and humor. My students speculate that the last is because of April Fools Day, and whether they are right or not, I like that they're thinking.

Yesterday's poetry challenge was to write a cinquain about an animal, and today the Jolly Rancher Challenge was to tell me a joke about an animal. If I laugh, you win!

I spent the day laughing! Here are some of the best:

Where do killer whales play music?
the Orca-stra

Did you hear I'm moving to Australia to work in a zoo?
Don't worry, I'm koalified.

Why can't T-rexes clap their hands?
Because they're dead.

Why did the sheep get a ticket?
illegal ewe turn

What do you do when your dog eats your pencil?
Use a pen.

Why are pterodactyls so quiet in the bathroom?
Their p is silent.

Knock knock
Who's there?
Cows go
Cows go who?
No! Cows go moo!

You would think a snail without his shell would be a little quicker,
but actually he's more sluggish.

Thursday, April 12, 2018

Home Teams

As the warm weather arrives, that long walk to my car when I leave school is definitely enhanced by all the soccer practices, baseball games, tennis matches, pick-up basketball one-on-ones, runners, dog walkers, and play grounders that I pass along the way. So much energy is energizing, and it feels good to be in the middle of it all.

Wednesday, April 11, 2018

Border Patrol

Sometimes the best-performing students think that they have earned the right to take liberty with classroom rules and procedures. I get it-- in a perfect world, people who usually understand the task at hand and do what they should would not necessarily have to stay in their seats and listen to directions.

And yet? In sixth grade? They do.

Although I try to keep my instruction brief and to the point so that I can check in with everyone as they work, I guess I wasn't quite succinct enough for a particular student today. She was out of her seat and interrupting me every thirty seconds. Finally, after re-directing her several times, I told her that if she got up one more time I would keep her for lunch detention AND email her parents.

It was this last threat that widened her eyes and closed her mouth. Later, when I stopped by to monitor her progress, my remark was still on her mind.

"You shouldn't threaten people like that," she told me.

"Okay," I shrugged, "next time I'll just give you the detention and send the email."

Her jaw dropped "You wouldn't!"

"I would."

"What would you even say in your email?" she asked in a tone that implied she expected to stump me.

"I would say, I'm writing to tell you that I kept Franny for lunch detention today because she was disruptive. She left her seat several times during instruction and her behavior was a distraction to herself and others," I rattled off a boilerplate message that I've sent a few times before.

"No!" she cried. "My mom would kill me!"

"Then stay. in. your. seat." I told her, "and you'll survive to learn another day!"

Tuesday, April 10, 2018

Education in Action

The subject of job openings came up in my intervention class this morning. One of the students wondered if the assistant principal who had taken over an unexpected vacancy in his elementary school would be the principal. "She will have to apply for the job," I told him, "but she might get it."

"I'm going to apply!" he said.

"You can apply," I told him, "but if you don't have the requirements you won't get very far."

"What about for teachers?" he asked.

"There are requirements for us, too," I answered.

"Is it a test?" he wanted to know.

"You have to have a license," I said, "and to get it you need to have a college degree AND pass a test."

"I think I could pass the test," he declared. "That should be enough."

"Talk to the state department of education," I laughed.

His tone changed. "How do I contact them?"

"They have a website," I answered helpfully, and gave him the address.

He spent a few minutes looking at it on his iPad. "Can I have some paper?" he asked. "I'm going to write them a letter explaining why I think they should change the rules."

I handed him some loose leaf.

"Do we have envelopes?" he checked, and when I gave him the thumbs up he added, "and stamps?"

"Yep," I confirmed.

"Good," he nodded, "because I have some strong supporting reasons and a lot of evidence. My letter is going to be very persuasive."

Monday, April 9, 2018

To the Mattresses

You might think you're being frugal holding on to that mattress for over ten years, well beyond its practical life. But you would be wrong, because when you buy a new one, looking forward to some restful nights at last, nights without rolling into the valleys your body has abraded into that once very comfortable top-of-the-line pillow top, you will find that none of your bedsheets fit the new mattress, and you will have to go purchase more before you can sleep.

BUT if decluttering your linen closet gives you joy, then there's an unintended benefit of your investment.

Sweet dreams!

Sunday, April 8, 2018

Toeing the Line

The line at World Market was all wrong.

There were only a few people ahead of us, but rather than queuing in the spot that was clearly marked with a sign Checkout Line Forms Here, the man on his phone, and the couple with their ginormous stroller, and the lady regarding all who approached suspiciously as she protected her third place status trailed into the cooking and dining section of the store.

Knowing from experience that we should be winding back and forth along the candy and attractive tchotchke display, the cognitive dissonance was almost too much handle and I wanted to put down my peppermint syrup and flee. Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed, and Heidi joined the line as it was.

I, on the other hand stood where the line should be, forcing any shoppers who came behind us to reform it according to expectation. The suspicious lady didn't like it one bit, because it seemed like I might be trying to cut, but when at last it was our turn to be beckoned forward by those magical words, Next customer, please, everyone behind me was where they were supposed to be.

Saturday, April 7, 2018

I Get It

The day dawned with some dread-- today was the spring meeting and work day for our community garden. I don't mind the meeting, and I don't mind the working, it's the community I have a problem with. I don't like the awkward social situation of trying to figure out my place in a massive hive of spring gardeners trying to tidy up the common areas. Give me a solitary job and I will be fine, but this nebulous "clean up" involving all sorts of questions and small talk with strangers is excruciating to me.

Still, I like having a garden, and so I sucked up my angst and made my way up the hill this morning, hoping that the predicted snow and sleet would rescue me. Oh, there was no such meteorological knight in shining armor, so I signed up for the crew closest to my garden, the gate, and where I parked the car.

It turned out that I was teamed up with one of my neighbors, the lady from the next garden over who was on her best behavior, and another woman I had nodded to casually over the last few summers. We worked diligently to clear the fence line along the sidewalk of weeds and vines and trash, and the small talk was not even the least bit painful. As the clock neared the hour of freedom from the only slightly onerous bondage, one of our crew looked up. "Oh, here's my daughter now," she said. "She's one of my co-gardeners."

A slender woman in her early thirties approached us. I turned my head, my brain scratching with that tickle of recognition. "Is your name Heather?" I blurted, no longer reticent in the least.

She nodded.

"Heather D---?" I added, unnecessarily, for I knew exactly who she was. "I was your sixth grade English teacher!"

With that reminder, she recognized me too. "Tell her what you're doing now," her mom prompted her. It turns out she is an elementary school counselor working under a principal who was her seventh grade English teacher.

"It will be fun to see you around the garden this year!" she said, and I agreed.

It was like a message from the universe: Hey! Tracey! Community? Is never really bad.

Friday, April 6, 2018

Eagle Eyes

I couldn't believe what I was seeing last summer as I drove up one of the busiest roads in the county. Could it be? It was! A bald eagle soared right over my car and swooped away into a small wooded park. Our hometown is very populated, and despite its proximity to a big river, eagles are not common here at all. Once back at home, I searched the internet for confirmation of my sighting. Surely someone else had seen the raptor and reported it? I could find nothing.

Several months later, I saw it again. This time I was driving on another busy road, and the eagle was right over my school. There's an eagle in the neighborhood! I told anyone who would listen, but try as I might, nobody else seemed to see our national bird.

Then yesterday, I stepped outside the school for a quick walk to clear my head. A couple a crows were making a terrible ruckus, fussing at something. Looking up, I saw a big wingspan heading our way. I froze on the small hill behind our building. The eagle flew right over me, white tail and and head clearly visible as it winged its way northwest of here. Back inside, I shared the sighting with a couple of colleagues, speculating as to where it could be nesting.

And at last today, my long-awaited affirmation. One of the friends I talked to yesterday burst into my room. "You have to go to this website!"  she told me. "Right away!"

There they were! But even better? This resource was also cited. In addition to a current map of all the eagle nests in the state, it also has information on osprey, heron, and nightjars, as well as links to other tracking sites. It will definitely be a go-to for me the next time I glimpse a grand bird.

Thursday, April 5, 2018

Penalty for Excessive Celebration

Around about lunchtime a mysterious hole appeared in the wall down the hall from my classroom.  "Do you know what happened?" asked a colleague.

"No," I told her, "I didn't hear a thing." We agreed that some angry kid had probably taken out his frustration on the wall, which is extremely rare in our school, probably because most of the walls are metal.

A couple of periods later, the phone rang. It was the assistant principal looking for a young lady in my class. When she finished her test, I sent her to his office. The bell rang, and she had yet to return, but my co-teacher poked her head in the door. "Did D go to the office?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered. "How did you know?"

"Because I saw her kick the hole in that wall right before lunch!" she reported. "She was shocked when her foot went through, but then she took off running."

A few minutes later, D returned. "I heard what happened!" I said. "Wow!"

She cast her eyes down, embarrassed.

"Did it hurt?" I asked.

"No," she shrugged.

"Why did you do that?" I asked.

"Because I was happy!" she said. "I got a good grade on my test!"

I gave her a double take and widened my eyes. "What did the assistant principal say?"

"He said, If that's you happy, I'd hate to see you mad!"

I laughed.

"And he gave me detention." she finished.

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

The Next Act

I was talking to a friend the other day about some impressive deductions she had made based on a couple of meetings slated for the same day. "You're such a detective!" I told her.

"Maybe that can be my retirement job!" she answered.

Indeed.

Because, lately? Retirement jobs seem to crop up quite frequently in conversation. Just this evening our neighbor and her mom who was visiting from another state came over to see the freshly painted living room. The mom, who is a retired educator herself, was impressed. "When ya'll retire, you can rent yourselves out as painters!" she gushed.

And so it goes. Even though retirement is still several years away, it is steadily colonizing our ideas of the future. Will we be teacher assistants, dog trainers, or prep cooks? Will we be Uber drivers, museum docents, or personal chefs? Will we become journalists, finally publish our writing, or open an indoor dog park? Where will our passions and necessity lead?

I haven't seen this many open doors in the distance since I was in college.


Tuesday, April 3, 2018

Reeling in the Years

When teachers marching to replace tattered textbooks is headline news, it's hard not to appreciate how fortunate our affluent school district is. When it comes to materials and supplies, our students have pretty much anything they need. There is some disparity in facilities, however. Predictably, the newer the building, the nicer the place and the stuff inside.

Our school is 47 years old, and the furniture in my classroom is original to the building. The wood veneer trapezoid tables and heavy steel and composite chairs have been in my personal possession for 25 years, so they are in relatively good condition, despite being over 20 when I was first assigned them.

Aesthetically, I like to think they have held up well-- my classroom seems classic to me-- but on days when I am giving a standardized test, the vintage furniture doesn't seem quite so user-friendly as usual. Mostly? It's the tables-- they wiggle and squeak where the metal legs are bolted to the wood veneer tops.

To be honest, I don't even hear it anymore, and the kids get used to it pretty quickly, too (well that, and it's not always that quiet in the room; learning is a noisy business, you know.) But today the squeaking was bothering everyone. "This test is going to take me 2 weeks!" one frustrated student proclaimed dramatically, "And I'm not even kidding!"

I pulled her table away from its partner, and the awful noise was mostly muted. When the day was done, I opened one of my storage cupboards and retrieved my trusty can of WD40. 24 spritzes later, I was sure she would finish the test tomorrow... on that iPad the school system gave her!

Monday, April 2, 2018

A Worthy Adversary

My directions were clear: for the final push in our fiction-writing unit, the classroom should be a quiet working space.

"So, what's your story about?" asked one student in a loud, conversational tone aimed at the other kids at his table. He was looking for some verbal distraction, and I was more than happy to refocus him.

"My story is about a quiet classroom where writers can finish the drafts of their stories," I answered him pointedly.

"Well, that's clearly fiction," he replied.

We laughed, because it was really funny.

Then?

He got to work.

Sunday, April 1, 2018

Let There Be Borscht

It was my sister-in-law's parents tradition to eat a meal of white borscht on Easter. Homemade chicken broth is poured piping hot over hard boiled eggs, fresh kielbasa, and spinach. Garnished with vinegar and horseradish, it's just the thing to fuel up on before or after an egg hunt. It also pairs nicely with jelly beans and chocolate bunnies. We spent many an Easter Sunday watching the boys search for hidden eggs and enjoying that improbably perfect meal.

This year, with Vic and Judy gone and the boys all grown, our morning was busy: Heidi and I were finishing the week-long paint-a-thon, and Bill and Emily rose at 4 am to make it home from Mexico before Spring Break expired.

Fortunately, the next generation was on it. Yesterday when we were at the dog park with 2 crazy pups and that geriatric gent, Sonic, Victor proposed borscht for Easter dinner, and between the two of us we worked out the details. He got the kielbasa and spinach and bread; we brought the eggs and salad and dessert. There was soup stock in both freezers, too.

Tradition?

Continued.