One Word Too Many

This afternoon we had our first parent-teacher meeting with a new member of our teaching team, and about halfway through I made a suggestion to the parent.

"That's a good idea," the new guy interrupted, and if he'd only stopped there, I wouldn't be writing this now.

"actually," he added in mild surprise.

King of his World

The sun was shining in my eyes as I drove home from school this evening around 5:45, but I'm pretty sure that was one of my students riding his bike furiously through the neighborhood. He paused breathlessly on a street corner just as I passed, and I glimpse him: hands on hips, cherry cheeked and chin up, bare chested and helmetless.

I do believe he may have been roaring.

Era error

"Are they going to give us Pilgrim hats here?" asked a student as our field trip bus pulled up to the front gates of George Washington's Mount Vernon.

It's a good thing they take American studies in sixth grade, I thought.

Graphic Graphics

We spent a pleasant afternoon browsing the Crafty Bastards art show down at the Navy Yard. They had 4 big tents full of cool stuff created by interesting artists, but I have to say that what pleased me most was the liberal use of the word *fuck* in many of the graphic artworks.

Still kinda wish I had gone ahead and purchased that Merry Fucking Christmas ornament-- it captures the current zeitgeist so neatly for me-- and I would have hung it on my tree with the best intentions of the season.

Football Minutes

I promised a student that I would try to make it to one of his football games this season, and today's game seemed like a good bet. Unlike other weeks when the games were at 6:30 PM and 30-60 minutes away, this morning the team was kicking off at 10:30 at the high school within walking distance of home.

Unfortunately, the nor'easter that was blowing when I got up was not enough to cancel the game. Since it was also the last game of the season, we found ourselves shivering under an umbrella on the sideline as 22 boys mixed it up on the gridiron. There was no scoreboard, and the referees were not mic'ed, so at times it was anyone's guess what the hell was happening. I did clearly hear the 2 minute warning, though.

"What are they doing?" asked the daughter of another teacher on my team who joined us in the second half. "I thought they said there were only 2 minutes left! It's been like 10 minutes!"

"Oh, football minutes are like dog years," I said, "at least 7 for 1." And sure enough, 4 minutes or so later the final whistle blew. 

Meeting with Success

Another year, another set of student-led conferences. At our school, students are well prepared, scripted and practiced, and to watch them try on the mantle of personal responsibility for their education for the first time is always validating to the educator in me.

This year there were no tears and very little drama. Because I had so many conferences, the day flew by, and at the end I walked out of the building considering how delightful it is to participate in the novelty of most kids' first professional meeting, and how wonderful that most parents feel the same way. 

Connotation

"This is one motley school!" a student proclaimed as she stood before my desk waiting to ask a question.

"Excuse me?" I said. "Why would you say that?"

She pointed to my word-a-day desk calendar. "Motley," she read, "composed of diverse elements." She looked at me. "We're diverse!"

"Oh!" I laughed. "But 'motley' isn't usually considered to be good diversity. This is a good example of why you need to know more than the definition."

"It's not a compliment?" she clarified.

I shook my head. "Not usually."

"Well then, our school is definitely not 'motley'!"

I Buy That

Because I allow my students to listen to music while they write, ear buds are in constant demand. Because some kids destroyed the pairs I purchased as loaners, I needed an alternative solution. I ended up buying 100 packages of ear buds for a little less than 70 bucks. Now I'm selling them to the students for a dollar, with all the profits going to our team activity scholarship fund.

So far? It's going pretty well-- 10 pairs purchased. Sure, there are 60 to go before we see the return on our investment, but the peace of mind in not having to worry about who's wrecking my ear buds is worth every penny.

Try Again?

In an attempt to "take something off our plates" our administration today proposed eliminating one of the two interdisciplinary team meetings we have each week. Mind you, none of the responsibilities or duties have changed, just the amount of time we may elect to spend on them. To put it another way, now we *get* to support 145 children and coordinate conferences, intervention placement, field trips and other activities in 42 minutes instead of 84. If we so choose.

Gee, thanks!

WIld View

The phone in my classroom rang about 4 o'clock. It was Heidi calling me from a colleague's room on the lower level of the building. Like my classroom, it faces the construction of the new elementary school, but it also looks out on a sheltered well of a space, what used to be a makeshift amphitheater for kids to play in. These days, with the construction, the area is abandoned and fortified with hay bales to assist the drainage that comes from adjoining a construction site.

"There's a fox right outside Starr's window!" Heidi reported.

"Is it okay? Should you call animal control?" I asked in some alarm.

"It seems fine," Heidi told me, "it's just hanging out in the sun and scratching its ears."

"I'll be down in a minute," I said, hanging up the phone.

And when I got down there, it was just as Heidi had said. A young fox with a dusty ginger coat and black stockings was curled up in a sunny patch of soft dirt and long grass growing from the cracked concrete. It was mesmerizing to be so close to such a wild thing, and we watched it for at least 15 minutes, speculating about its diet and habits.

I could have stayed all afternoon, but I had work to do in my own room. I do confess, though, that I went immediately to the window and craned my neck in futility for one last glimpse of the fox.

Grounded

I spent the afternoon in my garden, pretty much putting it to bed for the season. The air was brisk, but the sun was shining, and it was still warm enough for me to work in my t-shirt. I always feel a little sad to pull living plants from the ground and throw them on the compost heap, but it was time. And, in consolation, I left with 15 pounds of sweet potatoes, lots of peppers, some tomatillos, a quart of green tomatoes, and half a pound of tiny little heirloom shell beans, sun-dried in their pods.

For so many reasons, both told and untold, this was not the best season of our nine so far, but I am not unsatisfied.

Colorless

The heat and humidity finally broke earlier this week, and there was a crispness to the air and a golden angle to the sunlight that made it feel like fall. Something hasn't been quite right, though, and it wasn't until I opened the paper this morning that I realized what it was. An article in the Metro section told me what was missing: in our region, none of the leaves have changed.

As far north as Connecticut and as far west as Ohio, there is barely a hint of yellow in any of the green. Less daylight and dropping temperatures are what trigger the seasonal change in foliage, but one without the other throws the timetable off.

Such a late change in color is unprecedented, and no one is sure what it means for leaf peepers. Experts advise that is too soon to give up on this year's spectacle, but also wonder what a year like this might foretell in our era of climate change.

At least we still have pumpkins and apple cider. For now.

Communication Barrier

A few years ago the school system added American Sign Language as a language option. Since that time, it has become rather popular in our school, especially with active, kinesthetic learners.

This year, we have a new, full-time ASL teacher. Her classroom is a couple doors down; she has a homeroom on our team, and she is deaf.

As team leader and a nearby person with a lot of experience in the building, I am a prime resource and support for her. She is the type of person who doesn't hesitate to ask for help, and I like that, because it is much easier for me to answer questions than to anticipate them. The school provides an interpreter for her which makes most of our communication very easy, but there are times when we are alone, and getting a message through is more of a struggle then. Fortunately, she is gracious and patient, even writing little jokes I am too clueless to catch on the whiteboard. We make it work.

Even so, I am acutely aware that she is unable to speak my language, but I have just never taken the time to learn hers.

Don't Dis Functional

It was sixth period.

One third of the students were off in a nearby room working on their personal narrative drafts with a resource teacher, while eighteen students worked silently in the classroom on the same task. My co-teacher, Matt, and I circulated quietly among them, taking a few minutes at this table and that to check in on their progress.

About 30 minutes in, Matt made eye-contact with me and then swept his gaze over the diligently writing group and smiled. "On October 18, 2018..." he whispered.

"Stop!" I whispered back. "You'll jinx it!"

There's Always Room for Jello

I am not the only one struggling to find equilibrium with this huge new class of sixth graders. After listening to a litany of concerns from my colleagues, many of which I shared, I finally resorted to simile.

"Guys!" I said to my team, "maybe it's just like Jello!"

They looked at me quizzically.

"The more there is, the longer it takes to set," I explained. "We're still wobbling, but--"

"It's gonna gel!" finished another teacher.

Greetings

A couple of years ago I read an article that said hundreds of kids pass through their middle and high schools every day without ever hearing their name. It was meant to point out a travesty, and I took it to heart. Since then, I stand outside my classroom door every morning and greet every student who passes by, most of them by name, since as a sixth grade teacher I know roughly a third of the school.

To be honest, it's a good brain exercise for me, especially this year, when I needed to learn 145 names as quickly as possible. Fortunately, with so many kids, I have some help. This year a few students have elected to join me. They stand right beside me, and together we greet everyone who walks down the hall with a great big "good morning!" If I don't know someone and they do, they introduce us, and the reverse is true as well.

Hopefully? There are a lot fewer kids at our school who pass a day without someone saying their name.

Dependent Learner

"What's dialogue?" asked one of the 28 kids in my class after 3 mini-lessons on dialogue.

"What's dialogue?" I asked him as I sat down in the next chair.

"People talking!" his writing partner whispered.

"People talking?" he answered.

"Right!" I told him. "Now where can you add dialogue to your personal narrative?"

"What's a personal narrative?" he responded.

Finally Fall

pumpkins
date nut muffins
apple sauce
flannel
fleece
boots
kettle corn
corn maze
and
soup for dinner

Unicorn Tears

On a Target run for essentials, we found that we could not resist the Halloween displays. So much candy! So many home and yard decorations! So many costumes!

They even had a couple of giant heads like those that mascots and theme park characters wear, one of a cow, and one of a unicorn. True confession: I've always wanted to wear one of those; in fact, I harbor secret hopes of one day being our school yellow jacket mascot at a basketball game.

In that spirit, I immediately put on the unicorn head. "Heidi! Take my picture!" I commanded.

"What? I can't hear you in there!" she answered.

"MY PICTURE!" I repeated, and she willingly obliged.

Behind me, a mom rolled her toddler our way. "Turn around!" Heidi urged me.

I did, and the poor child immediately burst into tears. His mother, Heidi, and I laughed in surprise.

"I'll take it off!" I said, and as I did, his eyes grew even wider, and he screamed in terror. His wailing grew fainter as his mom pushed him quickly around the corner and away to another section of the store. I put the unicorn head back on the shelf.

A little while later, we ran into them again in the cleaning supplies. My own eyes widened a bit, and I laughed nervously. "Oh! He's fine now!" his mom assured us, but he gave me the stink eye as they rolled past.

Why Thank You

"Awesome, Tracey, you're the greatest!" said the cable help operator.

Such praise I did not expect, especially since all I did was agree to stay on the line while he pinged my cable card so that I could receive my premium channels on the refurbished TIVO box that arrived yesterday to replace our faulty DVR.

But I kind of liked it, anyway.

That Was Easy

V looked grumpy when he walked in this morning. He announced that he did not have his notebook, and then dragged his feet on his way over to pick up his copy of the book we're reading together, then he lay his head on the table and tried to read along sideways. A little while later, he was playing a game on his iPad under the table. After I instructed him to put the device on my desk, he sighed and tossed his book across the table and onto the floor. After class, I asked him to come back at lunch so we could talk.

My classroom was a little hectic at the beginning of lunch: kids were shooting baskets at the "Lollipop Line", others were borrowing books, plugging in iPads, dropping off binders. V sat moodily waiting for the room to clear. "How long do I have to stay here?" he asked.

"That depends," I shrugged. "Why did I ask you to come?"

He sat up straight. "I was unprepared, off-task, and disrespectful," he answered, nailing it.

"Right!" I replied with a little laugh. "How come?"

"I'd rather not say," he demurred. "Sometimes I just get like that. But, I'll do my best to not take it out on you."

"Thanks!" I said, "And if you ever feel like talking to someone, or you need a break, just ask."

"I will," he promised as he headed out the door to lunch.

Thoughts on a Short Day

We had early release today, which meant 24 minute classes, lunch at 10 AM, and clearing the halls of kids by 11:54. Amazingly, the day went quite well, the kids were attentive and focused, and I found that I got a lot of instruction into a little bit of time.

Maybe it has to do with screen time and the fast pace of children's entertainment, but whatever the cause, kids today definitely seem to have much shorter attention spans than ever before, so who knows? They may actually thrive on a condensed day.

"I wish every day was like this!" one of my students said as he packed up his things and rushed to his next class. "I would learn a lot more-- there's no time for me to get bored!"

The trend in education is longer class periods with fewer transitions, but maybe we're thinking about it backwards. 

Just as I Intended

As I learned in my mindfulness class yesterday, I approached the day with intention. I am open to new solutions and opportunities, I told myself as I walked the dog this morning.

The day kind of went to hell from there-- the dog wouldn't poop, we were late for school, the students were crazy after three days away. By the end of my last class, my intention was totally gone from my mind, erased by the five ring circus I had just survived. Not only that, but the worst kid was worse than ever, and I asked him to stay and talk with his team of teachers.

"This better be quick," he said, "I don't want to be late."

Fortunately, the conversation improved from there, until at last he told us that his teachers last year used to give him 2 minutes at the beginning of class to walk around with a friend and "get out the sillies."

I was skeptical. "What exactly did you do to get out the sillies?" I asked.

"We just waked and talked," he answered.

I found that I was willing to give it a try, so we put some rules in place, along with some clear expectations for his behavior once those sillies are gone, and he's going to try it tomorrow. In addition? I felt much better.

I'd say those were pretty good results for my first day!

Mindful

I understand the objections to Columbus Day, but the second Monday in October has always been the perfect time for a three-day weekend and the break from school it offers. The beginning of the year is hectic and hard, full of requirement and angst. By the time we reach the fifth week, an extra day off is good for everyone, and traditionally we come back refreshed and ready for the second half of the quarter.

Not this year. Students had the day, but teachers were required to participate in professional learning. Oh, the powers that be did it right-- they offered lots of options and a mix of online and face to face opportunities. We chose a session on mindfulness for educators, both because it sounded good, and it was at the elementary school at the top of the hill. Walking to work and not having to there until 8:30 almost seemed like a holiday in itself.

The session was good-- focused on self-care and reconnecting with the passion that brought us all to teaching-- but it was conducted by two former teachers, people who had left the classroom because their journey took them elsewhere. I certainly appreciated the time to breathe, meditate on gratitude, and mindfully savor a single raisin, but I didn't leave recharged.

Maybe Veteran's Day?

Trans-species Grievances

Tracey says:

Sometimes Lucy gets so obsessive about sniffing the ground that I have to physically poke her to get her to snap out of it. One good finger jab to the shoulder is often not even enough to return her to the present reality and get her to pay attention to me. Dogs!

Lucy says:

Sometimes Tracey gets so obsessive about looking at the computer that I have to physically poke her to snap her out of it. One good nose punch to her leg is often not even enough to return her to present reality and get her to pay attention to me. People!

A Blessing or a Curse?

It seemed like such a good idea.

My pepper guy forgot to put the half-bushel I ordered on the truck to bring with the last CSA delivery of the season. How can I make it right? he asked. He vends at a market about 30 minutes away, and so we agreed to pick up our peppers there. In consolation? We would get a free box.

That's right. I have a whole bushel of peachy peppers.

Stay tuned!

Positive Feedback

It was the puppy that made us stop.

On the way out of school yesterday afternoon I passed a young woman wrangling an adorable white and black puppy spinning in circles at the end of the leash. She made exasperated eye contact as the puppy pulled her toward us.

As I leaned over to pat the unruly pup, the owner gasped.

I looked up in alarm.

"How are you?" she asked.

It was then I looked more closely at her. "Shireen, right?" I said.

"Oh my God! I can't believe you remember me! You have so many students. " she answered, tears literally shining in her eyes, and stepping forward to give me a hug.

After 14 years, I was glad I recognized her, but I also remembered her well. She was a good kid, serious and hard-working. We spent a few minutes catching up. Besides a new puppy, she is applying to law school and waiting on her clearance for a Justice Department job, and she is happy.

I congratulated her and continued on my way, pleased that I had played a small part in her success.

Vicious Cycle

We have a colleague who complains all the time. Nothing suits her; nothing anyone else asks or does is valuable or useful. In the space of 45 minutes yesterday she explained why 2 suggestions and one routine would not be of any help to her or her team. She informed us that what we were working on was not a good use of her time and also outlined all her grievances against a co-teaching situation with a teacher who wasn't present.

And when she left what did we do?

We complained about her.

Lettuce Consider that Question

"Why do always smell like salad?" a student asked me today.

"Uh--." I replied, "I'm not sure. What kind of salad do I smell like?"

He shrugged. "Just salad. All the time."

"Is it a good smell or a bad smell?" I asked.

"it's ok," he answered. "if you like salad."

Unforeseen Complications

I have never been an early bird, and yet:

The older I grow, the earlier I rise, and this year, getting out of bed at 5:30 doesn't even seem a hardship. I am easily able to shower and dress and pack lunches and take the trash by 6:40. Then it's time for the chore that founded this very blog: walking the dog.

Unfortunately, although I am ready for the day, the day is not ready for us.

It's still really dark!

End of a Long Day

It was 6:45 when I finally left school today. As I pushed through the plate glass doors a soft breeze warmed my refrigerated skin. The pale blue sky was awash with apricot clouds and every single playing field was filled. Soccer players, basketballers, tennis aces, skateboarders, and jungle gymmers laughed and called to each other in at least five different languages. For them, work was over and play time was on. I took a deep breath and felt the tension leave my body, and realized that the same was true for me.