School of Life

Our team of sixth-grade teachers had a conference with a student and his parent this afternoon. The student is a good kid, but impulsive and silly at times. Other kids really like him, too, so he has the knack of spreading disruption in class at times. And, like many eleven-year-olds, he has a hard time accepting responsibility for his mistakes.

After we described the situation, his mother was having none of his half-baked justifications and excuses, and she gave him a firm scolding, right there and then, making clear her expectations for his conduct in school. 

In truth, it was a little uncomfortable to hear, and I waited for the right moment to step in, when she had said her piece and we could refocus on strategies to help her son be more successful. After I spoke, she allowed the conversation to be redirected, but before we entirely shifted gears she told her son one more thing. 

"You are surrounded right now by people who love and care for you. We all want the best for you, but the world is not like that," she shook her head. "The world does not love you. The world does not like you. You have to learn to make better choices now, so you won't..." 

She trailed off and my breath caught at the implications of her unspoken warning to this very young man of color. The stakes seemed so much higher then, the mission so much more urgent.

Old Habits

When I was a student, I was a terrible procrastinator; I needed the urgency of a deadline to make me get started on even the biggest project. As such? I spent many late nights and even a few all-nighters getting my work done at the very last minute. 

Quality-wise, I often felt it was a trade-off. The pressure inspired me and I came up with a lot of stuff from who knows where, not all of it bad. Of course, time to edit, revise, and polish my work would have been nice, but back then everything had to be typed on a typewriter or written by hand, and so those stages of the writing process were time-consuming and laborious. I probably would have stuck with an early draft even if I'd had more time.

These days, I find myself in a similar situation at the end of each quarter. For example, I finally finished grading the last of the argument essays today, which was a good thing, since grades are due at midnight. But happy ending! I'm all finished and ready to head home.

After 50 years or so, what's the point of changing now? As awful as it was to have all that hanging over my head, the liberation of having it done is kind of exhilarating.

No Favors

Since Heidi started teaching social skills around ten years ago, we always say that it's the adults in our school who could really use the curriculum. Why narrow it down, though? Our subsequent awareness of social interactions has become a comical lens on so many everyday interactions.

Take today for example. Since it was a grade prep day, we were working at home. Our dog walker came by as usual to pick up Lucy, but since we were her, she stayed to chat a while. "What's the bread for?" she asked, nodding her chin at the pair of sourdough boules cooling on a rack. 

"Oh, I bake bread almost every week," I told her. "It's easier to make extra than to scale down the recipe, and it doesn't cost much, so I give away a couple of loaves weekly."

She nodded and looked down at her phone.

"Those are spoken for," I continued, "but if you have any interest, I can hook you up next week."

"Huh?" she said.

"The bread," I gestured. "Would you like some next week?"

"If you're baking it," she shrugged, "I guess I could take some."

"I'll let you know," I said.

Swift Effect

We watched a recording of the opening monologue from last night's episode of SNL this morning. Host Dakota Johnson was recalling the time she attended the 40th anniversary of the show as an audience member and a photo of her then flashed on the screen. The year was 2015 and right behind her was Donald Trump. "Who would have thought the future most powerful person in America would be there?" she asked as the camera panned to Taylor Swift, who was seated in front of her.

That must have been on my mind this afternoon when we ran into one of our neighbors. He was out for a run and we were walking home from running a few errands. "Sorry about the Bills," I told him since I hadn't seen him since last weekend. "Who are you rooting for today?"

"Oh definitely Baltimore and the Lions," he said. "If they both win, I'll be happy."

We wished him good luck and he jogged on his way.

"I don't know," I told Heidi as we continued home. "I have a feeling Kansas City is going to the Superbowl, and it's because of Taylor Swift."

"What does she have to do with them winning?" Heidi said.

"This just seems to be her time," I answered. "She's got a lot of good mojo, and it's rubbing off on the Chiefs."

Sorry, Ravens.

Doldrums

We are in a wide Sargasso Sea of TV watching. As much as there is on television, it's all like too much seaweed clogging up the airwaves.

It's ironic, really. There are hundreds of channels these days, and there are also many lists and recommendations, literally at my fingertips. This morning I sent Heidi links to "The Fifty Best Shows on Netflix Right Now" from the NY Times and IMDB's 2024 TV Guide, but so far? We're drifting aimlessly from show to show, discontent lapping the sides of our evenings in front of the TV.

I've even used AI, asking ChatGPT what shows I should watch based on the shows I have liked in the past. I guess the algorithm is working because it mentioned many shows I've already seen. Unfortunately, though, ChatGPT only knows what it knows through 2022. Anything newer than that doesn't exist for it, so there's not a lot of forward momentum there.

Oh, we'll keep rowing. I'm sure a fresh breeze will pick up soon, maybe when we least expect it, and we will sail into seemingly endless entertaining evenings in front of the TV again.

Done and Done

I called my 86-year-old aunt this afternoon to coordinate our next visit. "I am sitting out on my deck reading and listening to all the birds chirp!" she reported. "Can you believe it's January?"

"Considering there were six inches of snow on the ground when we talked last Friday?" I replied. "It's crazy."

"Well I am truly enjoying this!" she told me.

"Why go to Florida when Florida will come to you?" I joked.

"Like Mohammed and the mountain," she agreed. "Just call me Mo!"

We laughed and then she continued, "I'm just your old Aunt Harriett, but take some advice from me. When you get out of school today? Go outside! Enjoy the day!"

I agreed that I would, because what else would you do you do with a 70-degree Friday in January? Besides open all the windows and fire up the grill, of course.

Only So Much Spirit

Secret Spirit Week the subject line read, and the email contained details about staff dress each day. But don't tell the students! the message ended. 

The idea was a novel one to me, something that we have never done in the many years I've been teaching at this school, and all but one of the themes were easy for me to get behind: Monday dress in school spirit wear, Tuesday wear all black, Wednesday wear a hoodie, Thursday wear plaid flannel, Friday dress for the prom.

It was fun to see so many of my colleagues dressed alike all week, too, although as Heidi predicted, none of the kids even noticed. Today at the basketball game, as we stood on the sidelines in our plaid flannel shirts, one of the other English teachers stopped to chat on her way out. "You know what I noticed?" she said.

I raised my eyebrows expectantly.

"We are all dressed like you!"

"And we have been all week!" I agreed. 

"That ends tomorrow though," I told her.

"No prom for you?" she laughed. "Well, I guess I expected so."

Fair Rap

Students were working quietly when I decided to try my hand at composing a Titanic rap using the required vocabulary (accommodations, ambitious, evacuate, luxurious, plague, sound, tragedy) and the knowledge of the ship we had gained over the last few sessions. I had already offered kids the opportunity to put on a beat and share their work, if they wanted to, and it seemed like having a model might be helpful.

I was pretty pleased with what I composed, so I decided to risk sounding like an old white lady posing and step up to the figurative mic. (Click here for a version of what my classes heard.) 

And I was gratified at how much the kids appreciated my effort. But what was most cool was how many students went right to work, eager to share their own compositions. 

Two guys even made an album cover for their single. "Don't worry," they told me. "We'll sign you to our label!"

Dig if You Will

"What can I do for candy?" asked a visiting seventh grader after school today. "Can I show you something amazing?"

He cupped his hands together and whistled a low tone. 

"That's pretty good," I agreed. "What kind of bird calls it supposed to be?"

He shrugged. "Owl? Dove, maybe."

"Let's see how close you are," I suggested, pulling out my phone to open my bird ID app. I tapped record and he warbled away. No bird identified, the app informed us.

He tried again, varying his pitch. 

"Maybe you should listen to some calls and try to imitate them," I suggested.

For the next five minutes, he cooed and quacked and cheeped and peeped his heart out, but he could not fool the microphone. 

"Here you go," I laughed, handing him a Jolly Rancher. 

"But I didn't match it," he sighed.

"You didn't have to," I told him. "Your attempt was entertaining enough."

Titans of Rhyme

"What rhymes with luxurious?" a student asked me today. She was working on an assignment about the Titanic where students were asked to write a rap using some key vocabulary words. 

"Curious? Furious? Penurious?" I suggested. "That last word means 'cheap,' by the way," I explained.

"The ship was luxurious, but with the lifeboats they were penurious," she tried.

"That's pretty good!" I laughed.

"I can't find anything for plague, though" she sighed.

"The vocabulary word doesn't have to be at the end of the line," I told her. "You could say something like, 'No problems plagued the amazing ship..." I paused for a moment to think. 

"Until the hole the iceberg ripped!" she finished, nodding. "What about ambitious?" she prompted.

"The plans for the ship were ambitious," I began, "but now she sleeps with the fishes."

She gasped and the kids around her who had been listening to our conversation, did, too.

"I'm going to use that!" said one.

"No! I am!" said another.

"Nobody can," I shrugged. "It's my line. Come up with your own."

A little while later the bell rang, and as she was packing up to go a student caught my eye. "You should stick with that rapping," she advised me. "You never know what might come of it."

Northern Wisdom

We keep a few snow shovels in our attic for those rare times we have to dig out, and they have been waiting optimistically on the porch since early January. They haven't been necessary in either of the two recent storms; the light and fluffy snow was easy enough to brush off the cars and drive over. 

There is a plow service for our community, though, and it has been cold here since the snowfall, so although we have avoided slush, there is quite a bit of ice in our parking lot. Unfortunately, when we tried to make the way to our cars a bit less treacherous, our snow shovels were not up for the job. 

No worries though: my wife is from Buffalo, and they know a few things about getting rid of snow and ice up there. So off we headed to our local big box hardware store and, back in the garden tools, scored ourselves a long-handled chopper/scraper. 

Back at home, the ice never had a chance. I chopped and scraped and Heidi shoveled the chunks away and sprinkled ice melt on the damp pavement.

"Thank you for your public service," a neighbor said as he walked the newly cleared pathway to his car. 

"It was my pleasure," I said cheerfully because, really? There's not much more satisfying than having the right tool for a job.

Unsubscribe

I ended up on some travel mailing list that sent me an intriguing offer this morning. It was an all-inclusive resort with luxury amenities: spa treatments, healthy locally sourced meals, and all sorts of recreational activities, for under 300 bucks a day. It seemed much too good to be true, so I did a bit of research it.

Turns out, the place was in Australia.

The exchange rate, 66 Aussie cents on the US dollar, made it even more of a bargain. The airfare? Was a dealbreaker.

Right Track

Back in the late 90s nylon track pants were all the rage. Lightweight and waterproof, people wore them all the time either as an over-layer or just as workout pants. The zipper pockets and cuffs were definitely a plus, and between the two of us Heidi and I owned four or five pairs. 

By accident, we realized how they could easily double as snow pants, a garment that neither of us owned. Oversized in that 90s way, track pants could be pulled on over leggings or even sweatpants, and the nylon offered protection from both wind and water so we wore them in bigger storms to shovel out our cars, or go sledding with the boys, or walk the dog.

In fact, it was on an early morning walk with our first dog Isabel that I had the notion to slide down the big hill by our house. Having no sled, I figured the track pants would do, and I was right. That nylon cut the friction to a fraction, transforming the hill into a huge sliding board. After that, Isabel and I gleefully swooshed our way home every time we had the chance.

It's been a while since those days, but when we woke to the quiet beauty of tiny flakes blanketing our world this morning I asked Heidi if we still had those track pants. Turns out they were stowed away in the same little drawer they've always been in, just waiting for a day like today. So I pulled my favorite pair over my warm and comfy sweats and headed out with Lucy into the muffled morning.

And you can bet we took that hill in all its pristine glory, all the way from the top to the parking lot.

Trying to Pin it Down

A bunch of my sixth graders are on the wrestling team, and their excitement was so present this morning as they were chattering about the first meet, which was at home, that I knew I had to go. It didn't hurt that their coach is one of my closest friends on staff. "At least their weight classes are at the beginning of the match-up," I told myself, but as the day wore on, I realized I was looking forward to going down to the gym.

Heidi also had a student on the roster, but he would be at the end; even so, at 3 o'clock we locked our doors and made our way to the enormous field house attached to our school. The mat was laid, the rows of chairs set, the scoreboard lit, and the bleachers not too empty when we arrived. Neither team was in the arena, but there was a handful of colleagues, kids, parents of students, former students, and even a former student who was the parent of a student.

Fortunately, we spent our time visiting with the many folks we knew, because the meet took a long time to get going. When it did, my face twisted into a grimace whenever kids were actually wrestling. To the uninitiated observer that I was, their activity looked so brutish that it seemed impossible to me that it was not only allowed but encouraged. When one of my homeroom students pinned his opponent, though, the look of pure exultation on his face made a convert of me, and I was in.

Then when the next student also won his match and ran over to shake my hand, the deal was sealed, and having his mom give me a quick hug was gravy. Hours later, our team won the match, and the sense of community I felt was so moving that I wondered how I could ever leave it behind.

I have a few decisions to wrestle with myself.

Snow Globe

Back at school today (but with a delayed opening!), the warm-up question was What did you do on your snow day?

The sixth graders spent yesterday sledding, making snowmen and snow angels, and having snowball fights. When it was time to come in, they napped, watched TV, and caught up on schoolwork. Not a single kid mentioned video games or social media, but a few had hot chocolate and popcorn.

We often say that kids today are growing up in a very different world than the one we knew when we were younger, but it's always nice to be reminded that some things haven't changed. 

I'll Take It

And as it turned out? We had a classic snow day today. The district called it early, so we turned off our alarms, threw another log on the fire, and watched a movie. Then we slept in this morning, baked bread, and started a jigsaw puzzle. Around noon, Heidi went to work out with a neighbor, and I headed out to clear off the cars. Those chores accomplished, we have been relaxing-- working on the puzzle, sitting by the fire, you know.

Not everyone was as impressed as we were with our good fortune, though. A mere dusting? Heidi's mom texted from Buffalo. And schools were closed. Wow.

Hopeful

How surprised were we to wake up to a dusting of snow this morning? Since we were already off for the MLK holiday, the tiny light and fluffy flakes seemed more conversational than anything else. It's been two years since we've had a snow day, though, and as the snow persists, it is becoming harder and harder to manage our expectations. 

Especially with a fire burning, bread rising, and a jigsaw puzzle ready to go. 

Because Why Not?

Our very nice hotel room overlooks a narrow alley and with the curtains closed it is as dark as night, no matter what time it is. Which is funny and ironic, considering Times Square is only steps away, and there it is always as light as day. 

For our taste, the two balance each other nicely, and our stay here has been both comfortable and fun. In fact, coming up to the city and seeing a couple of shows might just become a January tradition.

It's a Hell of a Town

Thirty-six hours, two shows, a dinner reservation at Burger and Lobster, and an overnight at the Chatwal. NYC here we come!

What Marvels the Future Must Hold

Traffic was heavy and it ended up taking me over 45 minutes to drive the 8 miles to the car dealer where I had made an after-school appointment for routine maintenance yesterday. I had just settled down into the waiting room when the service coordinator came to find me. "We're backed up in the shop," he reported, "so why don't we get you into a loaner and keep your car overnight? We can get to your vehicle first thing tomorrow."

"Sure," I agreed. Although I dreaded having to make the drive again the next day, the prospect of doing so in a new car took a lot of the sting away. A few minutes later I was in a 2024 Subaru Outback with 118 miles on the odometer and all the bells and whistles you can imagine.

Before I left the parking lot I had paired my phone and set up a driver profile that used facial recognition to adjust the seat and the radio presets to my personal specifications. And we were living large this morning as we rolled into the school parking garage in that new car. "We should buy it," Heidi sighed. But we agreed that our own car is very nice, as well as perfectly maintained by the dealer. It has low mileage and almost every feature that newer model offers. Plus? It's paid off. 

So it was without remorse this afternoon that I piloted the loaner back to its home to pick up our good ol' car. Just as before the traffic was terrible, but I still used cruise control to maintain 25 mph on a heavily policed lane. As I approached a stoplight, I was momentarily distracted by a flock of geese on the lawn of the private school campus on my right. Just then, the car beeped a warning I had never heard before. "Keep your eyes on the road" the dash display admonished. 

"How the hell?" I wondered until I realized that the profile recognition feature must have been watching my face all along. I wasn't sure if that was creepy or cool, but I was glad that I didn't have to decide, because a little while later I was driving my own car home.

Personalized Non-Learning

It is a trick I learned from a colleague a few years ago. 

Whenever we give standardized exams, students may not use any electronic devices until the test session is over. That policy leaves lots kids with not much to do. Of course, we wish they would read, but even with hundreds of volumes at their fingertips, the number of students who actually pick up a book these days is in the low single digits. (But that is a lament for another day.)

To occupy their extra time, I usually print out a variety of high-interest coloring pages and puzzles. It's mystifying to me, but word searches are always wildly popular, and here is where that colleague's tip pays off. Make-your-own puzzle sites are easy to find, and so, once students settle into their task, I create a word search with the names of everyone in the room. 

It only takes a few minutes, and it's so worth the quiet smile of delight they give me every time they look at the list of words and realize the significance.

Draining

Do something you don't really feel like doing, just because you can! encouraged the calendar square. 

I was sitting next to the sixth-grade girl I am mentoring this year down in the cafeteria after school. The monthly theme for our group of female teachers and students was self-care, and our activities included DIY spa treatments and a New Year's resolution bingo card. For inspiration, the organizers had provided a January Happiness calendar, and it was that day's advice I was reading.

"That sounds like a good idea," I said to her. 

She snorted.

"I don't feel like going to the gym," I confessed, "but now maybe I will. How about you?"

"No-uh!" she answered definitively. "Why would I do something I don't want to?"

"It's a good habit to make yourself do stuff you know you should," I explained. "Are you going to do it?"

"Nope," she said.

I sighed and looked at my watch. Me neither, I thought.

Brain Thaw

We had a fun little drawing activity for our brain break yesterday. Students viewed a short how-to-draw-a-cute-ice-cream-cone video, followed the simple directions, and were invited to share their work by posting to our LMS course. Most kids enjoyed creating the playful image as directed, but there were a few who chafed at the prescription, too. 

One student, in particular, created an impressive pencil drawing of a very realistic scoop of ice cream in one of those handmade waffle cones. Both the ice cream and the cone were textured and well-shaded, and there were certainly no shiny eyes or sprinkles.

"That's really good!" I told him as I circulated throughout the room.

"What kind ice cream is it, though?" asked the student next to him with a sniff. "It's gray."

"It's dust-flavored," he laughed without missing a beat.

Change is Funny that Way

One of my students had a schedule change from one section of my English to another. Based on the personalities and work habits of the kids in his new class, I am confident it will be a good move for him. Even so, I could see he was a bit nervous when he came in this morning. 

I had changed all the seats, so everybody was distracted finding their new table when suddenly I heard someone say, "Wait! Are you in this class now?"

There was a silence and I saw the usually gregarious student blush a little as many turned their attention toward him. 

"Or were you always in here?" the other kid asked in confusion. 

The new guy and I made eye contact and exchanged an eye roll.

"Yes," I said to the class. "He's always been in here. I don't know what you're talking about!" I finished with exaggerated confusion.

"Really?" responded some.

"No!" others cried.

"Oh yes!" I insisted, as I stood by the student whose schedule had changed, the two of us laughing. 

Soon everyone was in on the joke, and the group settled down, ready to get to work with their new classmate.

No Skin in the Game

I'm not sure how much of the Golden Globe award ceremony I'll watch tonight.  I am interested in the results, but less so in the pageantry. In so far as the winners of these awards set up the Academy Award races, the Globes have my attention, but I can read about it tomorrow.

Likewise, the Bills and the Dolphins game tonight. Oh, I want the Bills to win. I want their first playoff game to be at home, mostly for all my friends and family who are Bills fans. Even so? I don't need to see it happen. 

I'm following the action. 

From a distance.

Rule Breaker

When he found out that I had once lived in Saudi Arabia, my neighbor was interested. "Maybe you can tell me this," he said. "Is there really any reason for me to visit Saudi Arabia considering the only city I really want to see is banned for me?"

I gasped. "You want to go to Mecca?" I asked with the internalized shock of nearly 50 years of being a former expat resident of the Kingdom.  "That's not allowed!" 

"Exactly!" he laughed. "That's why I want to go!"

Losers and Winners

I am not an advocate of all the many standardized tests and practice tests that we are required by our district to administer throughout the year. For example, the assessment my students took yesterday and today was forty hard questions based on very dense reading passages. Taking on average over an hour and a half to complete, it is also designed so that the kids get about half of the answers wrong, which seems a little soul-crushing to me. 

But as long as I could ignore the glazed eyes, heavy sighs, and frequent bathroom breaks, it sure was nice to get all that grading and planning done as they struggled through. 

Without Irony

The room was empty when I poked my head in, but for the colleague working at her desk.

"Isn't there a parent meeting?" I asked. 

Her expression was blank, but kind, as she cocked her head in confusion, but when I mentioned the student's name, she brightened a bit. "That sounds familiar," she nodded. "Let me check."

With a few taps of the keyboard, she looked up, clear-eyed. "It's next Thursday," she told me, and as I turned to go, grappling with my senior moment, she added, "but thanks for being on top of it!" 

And the nicest thing was? She meant it.

Old Soul

"I'm going to be absent for a while," a student told me today. "I have to have my tonsils removed and the recovery is two weeks."

"Really!" I marveled. "You know, when I was a kid lots of people had their tonsils out, but I don't think I've ever had a student in the last 30 years who's had that surgery." 

It was the same student who crochets and shops at Ikea, so I guessed it was fitting for her to have such an old-fashioned operation. 

My hunch was confirmed when she shrugged and answered, "Well I do want to be able to sleep through the night, you know."

Call the Doctor!

"I was sick over break," I confessed to my team over lunch today.

"You're never sick!" exclaimed one who has known me for 25 years.

"I know, right?" I replied. "I'm still not feeling a hundred percent, either. But you know what the weirdest thing is?"

They waited with interest.

"I was really glad to be back to school this morning!" I laughed.

My friend shook her head. "You must be sick," she said.

Best Foot Forward

Blackeyed peas for luck? Yessir.

Ham for not looking back? Check.

Greens for money? Yep.

Rice for prosperity? Mmhm.

Corn for all that's golden ahead? Got it.

Fried chicken because we like it? Yes, that too.

Add a little Cascadia, canneles, cookies, and a peppermint pig and 2024 is officially off to a good start!

Now about that 5 a.m. alarm tomorrow...