Tuesday, March 31, 2020

Just Like Us

I like all these videos on social media lately of celebrities singing, reading poetry, and just talking from their homes. The content is... okay. I have definitely come to realize just how important editors and scripts really are, though. (And I won't even address the no makeup thing. Just. Wow.)

What I like best about these recordings is the inside of the houses. It's fascinating to see the paint, the furniture, the floors, the cabinets in the kitchen, the art on the walls, the knick knacks on the shelves. Kind of like walking in the evening and catching a glimpse of your neighbors through the light in their windows, it reminds you that everyone has a whole life as real to them as yours is to you.

Like one of Heidi's students said at the beginning of their first teleclass, his mind completely boggled, as images of his classmates and teachers tiled the screen. "Hey! Everyone is in a house!"

Monday, March 30, 2020

Space and Time

The facilities director met us at the front door of school this morning in disposable gloves and a mask. He apologized for having us sign in and politely requested that we limit our time in the building to no more than 15 minutes.

Heidi needed some materials from her own classroom further down the hall, and so we agreed to meet in mine when she was done.

I was only there to pick up my plants; they could have survived the 4 weeks away that had been announced when we left on March 13, but now that school was canceled for the rest of the year? Well.

When I opened the door to my classroom the sun was shining brightly enough that I didn't bother with the lights. It smelled like a school in there, a mixture of books and chalk and pencil shavings and crayons, maybe. It was a smell I recognized, but not one I expected. My room used to be odorless to me, like the water to a fish.

It didn't take long to pack up the assortment of succulents, cacti, philodendron, orchids, [un]lucky bamboo, and my Douglas Fir and Joshua Tree that I had grown from seed, and so I stood in the unlit room and looked around at the unfamiliar familiar. I have been teaching in that very classroom since 1994, longer than I've lived anywhere in my life, but today I felt my connection to that space fray just a bit.

And then Heidi was at my door, and we headed out into the deserted, but brilliant, spring day beyond.

Sunday, March 29, 2020

Same Boat, Different Deck

When asked about her low during their virtual social skills class last week, one of Heidi's students answered, "Being nice."

"Being nice to who?" Heidi questioned. "Your family?"

"Yeah," the little girl sighed.

Her mom, who was sitting at her side, laughed ruefully. "It's been a bit of a challenge," she confirmed.

And of course, they aren't alone. Everywhere you look there are tales and tips of how to survive quarantine with your nearest and dearest without going crazy.

Here at our home, the situation has been quite pleasant, although our cats and dog may disagree. Heidi and are getting along just fine, but after 2 weeks of our undivided attention, our pets may be ready for a break, Lucy especially. That dog must be walking at least 10 miles a day when you add up the morning walk I take her on, the midday walk we all go on, and the early evening walk Heidi takes with a few neighbors and their dogs.

Some of our neighbors seem a little lax on the social distancing. Nobody wants to get sick or infect others, but everyone is creating their own playbook based on personal ideas of acceptable risk.

For example, yesterday afternoon we were returning from a 5 mile stroll through the neighborhood when we crossed paths with 3 women piling out of a car loaded with plants. Together, they had been to a local garden shop-- no social distancing possible on that ride. But we knew that the three of them each live alone, and such a break from complete isolation must seem more than acceptable.

I guess in a time when everyone is struggling, but not with exactly the same issues, the only remedy is empathy.

Saturday, March 28, 2020

On the Case

I like puzzles and mysteries, and escape rooms? Are my jam. So I have been curious to check out some of the companies who send you episodic mystery boxes that you and your crew can work together to solve. But, their expense has always seemed a bit prohibitive, and it's been easy to shrug them off as too time consuming to fit my schedule.

Until last week, when I found myself with quite a bit a spare time on my hands and a little too much time to think about things I couldn't solve. That's when I finally placed my order for a murder mystery in six "episodes".

The box arrived earlier this week, but it wasn't until this morning that Heidi and I dug in (mostly because Heidi was holding out for an official "murder board" that we could use to track the suspects and clues. I finally convinced her to just take a look through the evidence, compromising with a stack of index cards, a legal pad, and a small 12x12 bulletin board with some push pins.

Our first job was to identify the murder weapon, using the documents and the link to the online dossier that were in the box. I'm sorry to report that it was a little too easy, although there were several clues and facts and a couple of codes we had to break that will probably come in handy later. At any rate, we emailed our solution and the next box is on the way.

It was enough fun that I looked into another company just to get an idea of their games, and I found that they have a 2 week backlog of orders. I guess great minds think alike.

Friday, March 27, 2020

Round the Clock

There is a pattern to my days. I wake feeling excited and optimistic for all that I will accomplish. I enjoy my coffee, walk the dog, and settle down to connect remotely with my students and then the world. A couple hours later, I'm all caught up-- emails answered, assignments commented on, crossword done, words with friends played, devastating news reports read and digested. And then I feel at loose ends. Some exercise, inside or out, helps a bit, and so does the ukulele, the meditation, the sit ups, and the writing. But I am restless, and all the uncertainties and fears of these difficult times begin to creep in. And it's not until the sun sets, and I am cooking dinner, and looking forward to watching something on TV (just like we did before) that I feel regular again. And a little while later? It's time to get some sleep, so that I'm ready for another day.

Thursday, March 26, 2020

Undefined

Heidi was nervous about her first video conference with her social skills students, so I postponed my morning walk with the dog to offer technical support should she need it. My plan was to head out as soon as she was successfully online, but it didn't turn out that way. I was riveted by the joy and excitement in the kids' voices as they connected on the call, and I stood in the kitchen with tears in my eyes listening as they went through their daily routine of highs and lows, sharing their personal trials and triumphs of these last two weeks.

As happy as I was to hear their voices, for the first time since this crisis began I felt a little unmoored.

What is a teacher without a class? 

Wednesday, March 25, 2020

And They Knew that It Was Much More than a Hunch

I had a virtual meeting with my sixth grade interdisciplinary team today. Nobody told us we should; it just seemed like a good idea. So at 11 AM, I used a free online conferencing service and invited the rest of the team to join my meeting. Once everyone was on, I set my screen to tile view, and nine smiling faces formed a little tic tac toe board. It was for all the world like our own little version of the Brady Bunch opening.

We shared tele-teaching successes and challenges, and started a spreadsheet to keep track of kids who were not doing everything as expected and documenting any outreach to students and families. The Slice of Life writing my students are doing has allowed us to stay connected and it has also given me a window into their daily lives, so I added my colleagues to my learning management course, in case they wanted to check in with the kids, too.

It felt really great to be collaborating again in real time to support our students, and we all agreed to meet again next Wednesday, if not before. We've always been a good, well-functioning team, but these times are bringing us even closer.

Tuesday, March 24, 2020

There's Good in Every Day

One of my co-teachers video-called me this afternoon with a question about the ukulele. "How do you pick the strum pattern?" he wanted to know.

We chatted a little bit about online resources and tutorials, but I had to confess that my strumming skills were a bit rusty.

"But you know what?" I said. "It's so funny you called. I was just thinking this weekend that I was going to dig out my daily ukulele book and practice for 10 minutes a day while we're out of school."

"You and your 10 minutes!" he laughed, for he was privy to my 100 day self-challenge to meditate for 10 minutes a day (after my 100 sit ups, selfie, and blog post, of course).

"That's right," I told him. "In fact? If I ever write a book? That will be it: How to Do Anything in 10 Minutes a Day!"

Monday, March 23, 2020

The Fuzzy Head Prevails

I must have heard the patter of rain in my sleep last night, because I woke up thinking about foul weather gear. My rain coat, some tights under a pair of old nylon track pants, and my Bean boots were part of the plan as I jumped out of bed determined to carry on my new routine of longer dog walks in the morning. A cup of coffee, and I was good to go.

As I pulled my hood up, I noticed that my dog, Lucy, had other ideas. Rather than meeting me at the door, she was back in bed. Nature and her curiosity won her over, though, and I leashed her up and stepped out into a cold and pelting rain, ready to show what hearty stock I am, seize the day, and walk several miles through the elements.

But once she had taken care of her business, my dog balked at going any farther, literally giving me the side eye to show what she thought of my plan. When I insisted, tugging the leash, she lowered her head, willing the collar to slip loose. And so we stood in a cold, wet stand off, until I gave in and we returned to the warmth of our house.

Animal instinct has to count for something.

Sunday, March 22, 2020

Trail Report

Another day, another ramble in the park. This morning we headed out pretty early to a relatively remote regional park, and although we had the trail mostly to ourselves, there were still several occasions when we politely stepped six feet over and allowed other walkers to pass. 

It may have been the socially distant thing to do, but it sure gave us an earful as groups approached and passed. For example, there was the lady hiking with about 8 other seniors and wailing "America" at the top of her lungs. God shed his grace on theeeeeeeeee! she sang off key.

Next, a man, perhaps in his sixties, passed us walking alone, but having a rather heated conversation on his phone. "Nobody gives a damn about the retirement savings of an 84 year old man! They have other things on their minds!" he scoffed as he marched away.

And then there was the little boy and his mom who we passed. The kid was up in the woods getting ready to climb on a rock. 

"Come back here!" his mom demanded.

"I can't," he insisted. "Social distance," he explained over his shoulder and kept on climbing.

"He can't stay distant forever," we laughed as we passed his scowling mom.

Saturday, March 21, 2020

What We Can Do

We were doing a deep scrub of the kitchen and dining room when I took a soapy cloth to a couple of candle sticks that had been sitting on our sideboard for literally years. The silver plate polished nicely, yielding to my elbow grease. We should use these more, I thought as I replaced them, thinking then of Eleanor Roosevelt's words, It's better to light a candle than curse the darkness.

And isn't that what many of us have been doing? Long walks, a sparkling clean house, and apple pie-- that's what the eighth day of this crisis brought us. And who knows what tomorrow will be like, but tonight? There will be candlelight.

Friday, March 20, 2020

Earning their Kibble

I was giggling at my cat Tibby swatting and chasing her catnip mouse this morning when I logged in to check on my students' writing. I had asked them to share something that made them laugh this week, and I was eager to see what they posting. The mouse skidded over my socks with the cat in pursuit, but the hardwood floor was too slippery and Tibby overshot her quarry. She recovered with a nimble somersault and slapped the mouse into the living room where the chase continued.

I was still chuckling as I began to scroll through the moments of joy the kids had found in a week of uncertainty.

What do you know? Most of them? Were laughing at their crazy pets, too.

Thursday, March 19, 2020

Quote of the Day

My approach to distance learning has been to maintain the daily announcement that I provide through our learning management system, and so students have worked through the agenda as usual, just at home and with no direct instruction. As part of the announcement, we always have a quote of the day, and this week has been no different in that respect either, except that I have asked the kids to respond to the QotD in writing and to post their thoughts on the class discussion board.

Here's what we've written about this week:
Monday: “She refused to be bored, chiefly because she wasn't boring.”~Zelda Fitzgerald 
Tuesday: “I find the harder I work, the more luck I seem to have." ~Thomas Jefferson 
Wednesday: “Things turn out best for the people who make the best of the way things turn out." ~John Wooden 
Thursday: "A pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees opportunity in every difficulty." ~Winston Churchill
I've tried to choose aphorisms that give them the opportunity to process what's going on through a lens of optimism, but today, when I asked which one they were in response to Churchill's words, most identified as pessimists.

I was thinking about their responses as I took a walk this afternoon, and I wondered how I could lighten the mood a bit for tomorrow. I decided to use a quotation from Ben Franklin: "Trouble knocked at the door, but, hearing laughter, hurried away." and ask the students to share something that made them laugh this week.

I'm looking forward to reading what they write.

Wednesday, March 18, 2020

Just Doing Their Jobs

There was shouting outside our front door this morning and a heavy odor of mulch choked the air in our complex all day today. The ringing throb of a jackhammer on concrete pounded outside our windows all morning, too. I guess I'm spoiled-- usually I go to work and when I get home, all the maintenance and repair has magically been done. I never thought about the noise and disruption that accompanies such jobs.

Fortunately, the cement mixer idling and coughing in the parking lot at lunch time was a bit quieter, and the sidewalk replacement was all done by the time I got back from a short run.

I can't complain about any of it. It's good to know that some commerce goes on uninterrupted by closures, quarantines, and social distancing.

Tuesday, March 17, 2020

With My Own Eyes

It seemed like such a good idea. I read a piece in the NYTimes by a doctor who practiced 18 months of social distance back in 2003 in order to keep her premature babies as healthy as possible. She made it all seem so doable, especially the grocery shopping. She went late at night when the stores were nearly empty.

I knew yesterday would be a madhouse anywhere, but I thought that by early this morning some stores would be less crowded and restocked after a crazy weekend and the first Monday of widespread social distance. And so we set the alarm and armed with disinfectant wet wipes and hand sanitizer headed off optimistically at 6:30 AM for the nearest Wegmans. It almost seemed fun, like a silly lark.

Arriving 25 minutes later, we were heartened to see customers pushing carts with toilet paper to the cars. "It kind of makes me want to run," Heidi said, and we laughed as we wiped down our grocery cart and swept through the automatic doors. Our smiles turned to gasps when we turned the corner into the produce department. The giant wooden display bins were bare of nearly all the fresh fruit and vegetables.

Heidi headed to household while I turned to the bakery. A few loaves of warm bread were on a metal rack, along with some soda bread and Irish butter. The meat cases were practically empty, there was very little milk and no eggs, and the toilet paper was gone. Meanwhile the line to checkout stretched to the back of the store. Over the store's audio system Crowded House sang Hey la, hey la, don't dream it's over as we pushed our cart down aisle after empty aisle.

So this is what dystopia is like.

Monday, March 16, 2020

Dispatches from Home

Day 1 of distance learning for our students is, pardon the pun, in the books. Before school was canceled, my students were participating in a month long Slice of Life challenge which requires them to post a daily anecdote or other reflection on a personal experience, and so my plan was for them to continue that while we are away. I thought it would be a good way for us to stay connected as a learning community, as well as a chance for kids to put their thoughts and feelings into writing during this unprecedented time. And they sure have taken advantage of that opportunity!

On Saturday and Sunday, some of those who wrote complained of how bored they already were and wondered how they would possibly make it through a "30 day weekend," while others expressed annoyance that they would have to do school work over their "break". Today, though, the first week away from school commenced with several students reporting on the routines that their parents were establishing for them at home:
So my mom has made this kind of school with this whole schedule including 2 PE periods, a total of three hours of class work, half an hour of chores, and an hour of family time. So basically I was woken up at 7:30, I took a shower, got dressed and had breakfast, and then from 8:00 to 9:30 is class work time. After this I have an hour of first PE and then a snack break. So this is going to be an exhausting couple of days until I get used to this. And also I have to write a five page essay for my dad. 
Ugh today my mom is forcing me to make today a normal school day! And I hate the idea but my mom still wants me to do because she’s the boss of me

So I think that my parents are going crazy over this whole not going to school and everything is canceled thing. Especially my mom. Since dance was canceled she is making me do conditioning classes and online dance classes. Also, she is giving me so many chores. I have to fold the laundry and water the grass. She says that watering the grass is good for me to get some time outside, but I can go outside on my own without watering the grass. So, I think she is just using me for manual labor. Plus, I have to lookup and tell her about the census. And not just what it is but how long we have had it, who made it, etc. It’s kind of overwhelming. Now, I have to go to water the grass for my “outside time” and if I don’t I will probably get yelled at so bye! 
So today my dad wants to make today like a school day but i keep telling him that we have things on canvas and we also got packets. But then he said that instead of him being teaching math and stuff like that he’s going to teach PE fun.
So in "PE" today were going to be learning core exercises that going to be interesting. Oh and my mom she is on me like a tick to get my work done. And my brother he is going to get so stressed out i already know. So in conclusion my day and most days for about a month are going to be crazy. 
Hi guys, I’m so exhausted from my workout today. My mom makes me do a 30 minute work out which is super tiring. I had to do 50 push-ups and 50 curl ups. And 10 or something pull-ups. I hate having no school. There’s nothing to do but there’s lots to do. It’s weird. 
Last night my mom went over our schedule for the next day. She said school wouldn’t be any different than home. “Are you sure about that mom?!
Nice work, parents! Looking forward to Day 2!

Sunday, March 15, 2020

Looking Backward

I spent a part of my day today working on the family tree my mother started on Ancestry.com. For those of you who are not familiar, the site adds little green leaves next to the name of family members to show that there is a hint, some as yet unlinked source that may provide information about that person. For me, these hints can be rabbit holes leading to facsimiles of hand-written census rolls, marriage or death certificates, or actual photos of gravesites and memorials. (Today I even found yearbook pictures of my sister and sister-in-law!)

I was lost in the past for at least 2 hours, exploring the lives of sailors, shoemakers, and inn keepers I never knew, but the fact that they were people that people I loved loved made everything seem quite relevant. And in these uncertain times, knowing how it all turned out was a comfort in itself.

Saturday, March 14, 2020

Seize the Day

As long as you can stay six feet apart, outdoor activities are allowed and even encouraged when you are practicing social distancing. With that in mind, we met several neighbors and their dogs this afternoon to walk the section of the Potomac River Heritage Trail that runs through River Bend Regional Park.

Lots of folks must have had the same idea, because every park on the way up there, Scott's Run, Difficult Run, and Great Falls NP, was packed with lines of cars waiting to get into their parking lots. The wait to get into River Bend was only about 10 minutes, but the place was more crowded than I have ever seen it.

As the six of us and our six dogs hit the trail, the throng thinned out, all of us spreading ourselves over 400 acres and more than 10 miles of trails. What a glorious afternoon! The bluebells were about to burst into bloom, tight blue blossoms topped luminous spring green foliage that practically glowed in the March sunshine. A bald eagle posed on a bare branch beside its nest just on the other side of the river. Spring peepers raised a froggy fracas at the pond, and we even passed two people hiking with their cats. Yep! Their cats.

It was just the kind of day that reminds you to embrace this wild world and hold on for as long as you can.

Friday, March 13, 2020

New Frontiers

What do you say to students and colleagues when you know that none of you will be back at school for at least a month? I heard all sorts of variations this afternoon.

Good bye!
See ya when I see ya.
Have a good one.
Enjoy your time at home.
Do your work.
Get plenty of sleep.
Take care.
Stay healthy!
Ciao!
Read!
Stay in touch.

But the one that seemed the most fitting?

Good luck.

Thursday, March 12, 2020

Never Before

Today we told our students what we expected should schools close. We're lucky that they have all been issued personal devices, and we have been given time to plan for tele-learning opportunities.

As for me, my students are deep into the 100 Day writing Challenge, and my main expectation is that they will continue to write and share their work daily on the discussion board of our online learning platform. "It will be nice to hear from you every day!" I said, "and it's kind of lucky we can all stay connected like that."

Kids were generally positive about the plan, but today the mood had shifted a bit. It seemed like the gravity of the whole situation finally hit them. Gone was most of the gleeful excitement that surrounds unexpected school cancellations, replaced by some genuine anxiety and overall uncertainty. Of course they look to us for reassurance. They've only been on the planet for 12 years or so, and everything is still new.

"You've been teaching here a long time, right?" one boy asked me this morning.

"Yep," I nodded, "27 years."

"How many times has school been canceled for a disease?" he asked.

Wednesday, March 11, 2020

No Looking Back

Like my friend Mary at Scattered Thoughts did yesterday, I stopped by the grocery on my way home today. In general, I feel we are well-provisioned to stay at home for a while if need be, but it never hurts to stock the pantry a little bit more. At 4:30 in the afternoon, it was rather quiet, and aside from the sanitizers, most everything else was on the shelves or being refilled as I shopped.

The big news for us was running into a good friend who is also a teacher, buying lobster dinners and steak, seeing a current student and his mom, shopping for cereal and milk, and then being stopped by a tall young man in his mid-20s.

"TJ?" he asked, using the nickname of our school.

I looked closely at him, and somehow the last 13 years faded from his adult face so that for a minute I could see the boy he was in 2006-7. "Philip?" I said, and he smiled wide.

"I can't believe you remember me!" he said, but then cast his eyes down. "Well, I guess I can," and I knew he was thinking of some of the trouble he had gotten into in middle school.

"What are you doing now?" I asked, changing the subject.

He told me he had been in the army and was now training to be a firefighter. I thanked him for his service, and he filled me in on some of the guys he kept in touch with.

"You should come by school one day to see if it's changed," I invited him.

"No way!" he said.

"You know you're welcome anytime!" I laughed. "If you change your mind... or the place catches on fire."

Tuesday, March 10, 2020

I Didn't Even Know He Was Sick

The whole sixth grade went on a field trip to George Washington's Mount Vernon today. It's an excellent field trip that for us consists mostly of a self-guided tour of the estate. As such, small groups of students tour the mansion and then roam the lawn and ramble the trails down to the wharf, sixteen-sided barn, gardens, and out buildings, ending up in the education center, which has lots of interesting interactive exhibits.

It's only about a half hour from our school, and some kids have been there before, but others haven't. I tell the former group that I have been there at least 25 times, and every time I learn something new and really cool. Today it was the demonstration on colonial cooking. Who knew that wealthy early Americans refused to eat yellow cornmeal? White? Sure, but yellow corn was animal feed to them. Ptooey!

In that way, Mount Vernon is always a fun and novel experience to me, but maybe not quite as new as it is to some of the kids. "I can't believe George Washington died!" one little girl told me today. "It's just so sad."

Monday, March 9, 2020

Maybe Not

Our students are writing children's stories as the summative task for the fiction unit. After giving them the tools and knowledge to analyze plot, setting, and character, we have them create their own character and give him or her a problem to solve. They might also invent an antagonist or a sidekick to hinder or help the hero.

In order to have a solid start, there is a character questionnaire based on one that Nancie Atwell uses in her writers workshop, and today was the day when students started to flesh out their protagonists.

"Can I have my character be on one of the planes from 9/11?" a young writer asked me.

I frowned. "It's supposed to be a children's story," I reminded him.

"It's history," he replied. "Kids need to know history."

I looked at him doubtfully.

"It will definitely be a children's story," he assured me.

I raised my eyebrows quizzically.

"I'm going to make it rhyme!" he promised.

Sunday, March 8, 2020

Maintaining the Status Quo

I think DST has finally won. Despite my past annual rants, I don't really miss my hour at all, and I am rather resigned to dragging around for a few days before I get used to the...

Wait a minute!

get used

to the

obnoxious,
ridiculous,
pointless,
no good

time change, which only burdens those of us who are forced to rise early, and only benefits those people who have the luxury of sleeping late by providing extra daylight when their work day is over?

Never!

If they got up with us, they would have plenty of light at the end of the day!

Saturday, March 7, 2020

Cures for the Cold

There was a chill in my bones that no number of steaming mugs could banish this morning. At 9 AM I blew into my hands, stamped my slippers, and still shivered in my layers.  I figured I had a choice: I could warm up through activity, or I could build a fire and pull up a fuzzy blanket. Outside my windows the sky was blue and the sun was bright, but the bend of the bare branches told another tale, one of biting breezes from the north.

Once a cheerful little blaze was burning in the fireplace, I stepped out to the wood rack to stock up on firewood before I got under that blanket. We were a bit low on small logs, so I began to split wood. As I swung the sledge, I remembered what my friend Rob used to tell me in college. Some people build small fires to stay warm. Other people build big fires and stay warm by chopping wood. I laughed, because I did feel warmer, especially out in that blue sky and sunshine.

Back inside, the cats and I enjoyed that fire for an hour or so, and then I took the dog and went hiking.

Friday, March 6, 2020

In Formation

I heard the clattering honks before I saw them. It was impossible to ignore the raucous spectacle, and so I stopped to appreciate the ragged vee of fifty or so geese flying over my head this morning. As they flew, three or four of them detached from the rear at the same time the others slowed the pace to first swallow and then follow the new leaders. In the brief time they were in my line of sight this exchange happened twice.

Flying seems like hard work; how could it be otherwise?

I wondered why human beings don't use such a method more often. We are so focused on specialization that leadership has become a thing of its own, rather than a shared responsibility for the good of the group. And instead of being fluid, our hierarchies are often so rigid.

Soon enough, the geese were gone, efficiently winging their way to their common destination, and I returned my attention to earth.

Thursday, March 5, 2020

Mirror Mirror

I pulled out one of the workhorses of my kitchen tonight. A high-end, 12-inch stainless steel sautoir pan, I use it for everything from searing to sauteeing to braising. I can even whip up a pretty nice stew for two in there, with a little leftover to pack for lunch. Tonight I was making winter succotash, a ghost of its full-flavored summer self, but with frozen vegetables, still a satisfying side dish at any time of the year.

As I sauteed the onions, I observed a sticky spot, where the onions were browner, near the edge by the handle. It was easy enough to deglaze, but it was a flaw in the pan I'd never noticed before. I might need a new one of these, I thought, and then laughed, because that was silly. I can save myself a couple hundred bucks and scrape that spot whenever I need to.

As it happens, just this weekend my brother and I were watching old videos we had found when we cleaned out my mom's condo. The first was Christmas '96, and although it rightfully focused on my young nephews, the rest of us made cameos. I especially scored screen time because I was holding 18-month-old Treat, and though the actual unwrapping has been lost to posterity, he and I do spend quite a bit of time admiring our reflections in the brand new finish of that very sautoir.

Treat was an adorable child who has grown into a handsome man. The skillet and I? Have seen better days!

Wednesday, March 4, 2020

Willing Participants

The students in my morning intervention period are there to write: they have 30 minutes to get their daily independent writing done, and that is the clear expectation. It is true that I make it as pleasant as possible for them, creating a little writing cafe atmosphere with music and snacks, but it is also true that they are 12 years old and we start at 8 am. Add to that that they were chosen because of their general reluctance to put words on a page, and there is the occasional clash of wills-- mine and theirs.

At those moments, when a hood goes up or a head droops down or an iPad is clearly tuned to an unauthorized site, I call the unwriter over to my desk.

"We're here to write," I whisper quietly, keeping my voice neutral, waiting for the nod of acknowledgement.

"But..." I shrug, "if you're not interested in that, I can probably find you another intervention class," I add kindly, waiting for the widening of eyes.

"Should I do that?" I finish helpfully, raising my eyebrows in rapt attention.

Bless their hearts! They always say no, and then sit down to write. It helps if they feel they are with me by choice.

Plus, the snacks!

Tuesday, March 3, 2020

At the Crossing

I decided to forego my heavy duty back pack this morning and instead grabbed a string bag to take with me to an all-day training. I have fondness for these lightweight sacks and the hands-free carrying convenience they offer, and so I have quite a collection of them.

The bag I chose this morning has the added feature of an outside zip-pocket which is a good place for keys and a wallet. I hadn't used it since late last summer, and uncinching the drawstring, I peered inside. There was some hand-sanitizer, a grocery list (peaches, blackberries, tomatoes, and corn), and four flattened pennies, that I had placed in my bag in Rochester, MN when my mom was a patient at the Mayo Clinic.

Walking over the tracks every day on my way from our rented condo to the hospital, the twin notions of transformation and survival prompted me to lay a line of pennies along the rail just past where it crossed my path.  At first, I wanted to give a flattened penny each to my mother, my brother, my sister, and me to remind us of our strength even under the enormous weight of this ordeal, so every time I crossed those tracks, I checked the coins.

Despite the fact that I heard and saw trains running by there several times each day, whenever I passed by the coins remained untouched. At first, I was annoyed. As the days went by, though, it began to seem miraculous, but I cautioned myself from reading too much into it. Still, I thought that if I could scoop them up, undamaged, on our last day in town, it could only be a good sign.

The morning my mother was going to be discharged, I walked down to the hospital one more time. There in the gravel that lined the railroad tracks I found four crushed pennies. With a catch in my throat, I tossed them in my string bag and kept going.

And that's where they stayed, until today. I laid them in my palm and remembered my hope and disappointment. Then I closed my fingers and jingled them lightly together, listening to the quiet music of four ruined coins, emblems of the inevitable.

Monday, March 2, 2020

High and Low

This school week is kind of a chopped up one for us. In session today, kids are off tomorrow since our schools are used as polling places for Super Tuesday. Back on Wednesday and Thursday, students are out again on Friday for conferences.

It's not as disruptive as it sounds, but when my wife, the social skills teacher, asked her students for their highs and lows today, one sixth grader said, "My high is that this week there are, like, two Fridays! Today and Thursday." He paused. "But my low? Is that there are also two Mondays."

WAH
Wah
wah

Happy first Monday!

Sunday, March 1, 2020

The Preservation of Fire

Next Friday, my aunt is moving out of her home of nearly 60 years. Since my family moved around a lot when I was growing up, that house is as close to a childhood home as I have, so yesterday I made the hour drive over there both to offer my help and to see the place one more time. They were very well-organized, and I didn't actually do very much at all in the three hours I spent.

I did take some family photos to add to the archive that my brother and sister and I are organizing and caring for, pictures of my mom and grandparents that I had never seen before. I also got a box of Christmas ornaments that belonged to my grandparents.

The last time they put up a tree was 1971, and we lived far enough away that it wasn't every year we spent the holidays with them. Even so, I recognized a few of the decorations. Most of them were from the 1940s and 50s, vintage glass with metallic paint and glitter designs, and several were in the original boxes, safely resting on a little nest of yellowed tissue paper and the odd sparkling strand of tinsel.

There was also a separate set of round turquoise ornaments, some faded glass and others still vibrantly wrapped in bright silk thread. I remembered the story my mother used to tell about how, when she was nineteen, she decided that their tree should be white-flocked with all blue ornaments. With her sister married and in a home of her own, her busy parents allowed her to execute her mod, mid-century vision. "But you know what?" the story always ended. "I hated it!"

And although we always had one or two blue ornaments hanging among the angels, santas, teddy bears, stars, snowmen, and everything else on our Christmas tree, I think they were only there to remind us that although change is unavoidable, and innovation has its place, some traditions are well kept.