Timeless Pursuit

When we were very young, before we could read even, my mom had a special game for rainy days when we were stuck in the house. On small folded pieces of paper, she drew pictures of certain pieces of furniture in our house. Then she would set up a treasure hunt. Each of us would start with a different clue and then make our way from landmark to landmark until at the end we would find a prize, usually just a cookie or some other treat. That activity always lifted the gloom from any stormy day.

There's something about a hunt, whether scavenger, treasure, or other, that captures the imagination. Yesterday, when we arrived in Atlanta for our four day visit with my sister's family, one of the first things that Richard wanted to do was to "make a treasure hunt." At almost six, he had some complex ideas about hiding and seeking treasure, and even though I immediately recalled my mother's version, we played his way, and it was fun. This afternoon, though, as the threatening rain clouds ultimately gave way to thunder, lightning, and even some heavy rain, I sat down with a pencil and some slips of colored paper, and sketched a few of the more easily recognizable cardinal points in the house. Next I placed them carefully just as I remembered my mother doing, and then I handed Richard the first clue, and off he went on a hunt for treasure through his very own home. It was as big a hit with him and his three-and-a-half year old sister, Annabelle, as I remember it being with us.

I was a little worried that the kids wouldn't recognize my drawings, but they did pretty well.

"That's my hamper!" Annabelle exclaimed, looking at one of the clues.

"No, it's the basket in the dining room," I gently corrected her.

"That is her hamper," my sister told me, "I just haven't put it away, yet."

"I know just what this is," Richard assured me a few minutes later with a confident grin as he scanned another of the clues, "I've lived here a long time." And with that, he dashed off in search of treasure.

Well, If You Put it THAT Way

I was feeling impatient with my pasty white fellow guests as we tried to check out of the hotel this morning. The place was built some time in the early 80's and consists of studio- style rooms with kitchenettes and balconies. Each unit is independently owned and therefore individually furnished and decorated, and let's just say that our studio was a little dated and worn. I don't think that was true of all the accommodations, but the establishment itself had a bit of a cut-rate air to it. Take, for example, the free continental breakfast for two: an apple, an orange, a plastic-wrapped cheese Danish, and a pop tart, all stuffed into a small shopping bag. It reminded me of a cross between the bag lunches they used to give us in high school and the free breakfast my brother, sister, and I got in an economical hotel we stayed at in Israel: hard boiled eggs, breakfast treats, and tang.

The entire complex in Orlando had that sort of international bargain feel to it. I think Virgin Atlantic cut some kind of deal with the management, because the majority of folks that we ran into seemed to be solidly middle class British and Irish, hence the pallor I mentioned at the top of the post. There were several Asian families as well, not to mention many Spanish-speaking groups. It was kind of cool, but a little baffling to think that these people had traveled so far to visit... Orlando.

Well, that was my frame of mind, anyway, this morning in the 90 degree heat as I dodged groups of hotel patrons marching resolutely to this or that shuttle bus or pool, all the while trying to load the car. I was still a little grumbly as we made a last stop at the Whole Foods grocery to stock up on snacks before getting on the road to Atlanta. As we exited the store, a man approached us and handed us each a little card labeled "compassion exercise." in halting English, he asked us to read it.

The directions were simple: Choose a person who is a stranger to you and direct the following thoughts at them:

Just like me, this person is seeking some happiness in his/her life

Just like me, this person is trying to avoid suffering in his/her life

Just like me, this person has known sadness, loneliness, and despair.

Just like me, this person is seeking to fulfill his/her needs.

Just like me, this person is learning about life.

That put a different spin on my morning.

Five Lessons of the Day

Mango-avocado sushi rolls make an excellent breakfast.

Those little nylon bags with the strings that you can wear on your back are pretty damn handy.

They make child leashes that are like plush harnesses complete with a stuffed animal that rides piggyback.

Simulations are not as good as rides. Corollary: Old rides are not as good as simulations, but they have a certain nostalgic charm. (Ahem Jaws and ET)

It's a total buzz kill when the people ahead of you on the moving sidewalk stand still and block your way, especially when the people on foot pass you by.

Respecting the Line

Those theme park people really know their business. It was just a little after 8 AM that the shuttle from our hotel dropped us off at Universal Studios. Despite my misgivings, I felt my heart rate rise with the escalator that lifted us to the breezeway bridging the parking garages and the "City Walk." Moving sidewalks couldn't get us there quickly enough, and even in the harsh daylight, the neon lights were vibrant and exciting as loud music pounded from huge speakers and Carrie Underwood sang on a ginormous LCD screen overhead. We were practically giddy as we were swept along with the tide of tourists eager to enter Islands of Adventure.

And so the day progressed from there. Every detail in the park is well planned: the bathrooms are plentiful and clean, the lines are well marked with estimated wait times, and the baffles are all shaded, or even better, air-conditioned. Most rides with long waits have introductory sections that are actually an integral part of the attraction, for example Harry Potter's Forbidden Journey turnstiles you through the Great Hall, past the talking portrait marking the entry to the Gryffindor common room, and through Dumbledore's office, too. If it's possible, it almost seemed like our line moved a little too fast.

To be sure, it's a fine line between cheesy and cool, or between weird and cool, or creepy and cool, or almost anything and cool, but it is amazing how the most successful theme parks do cartwheels up and down those fine lines, ricocheting between meeting, disappointing, and, yes, even defying expectations to deliver something cool to almost everyone.

Dissatisfied Customer

I just wrote three decent paragraphs and lost them to the profoundly flawed wifi access that this cheap hotel provides. To be sure, I had a much more generous perspective on the place before their idiotic Internet access caused me to lose my writing. Now? I calls them like I sees them:

Run down, tacky, two-bit, tourist trap.

Yeah! Take that hotel!

Hi There Summer of 2011

657 miles
Torrential rain through South Carolina
Blood, Bones, & Butter
Oceanfront motel on Jekyll Island
Fried Shrimp for dinner
Next stop, Orlando

It's on!

World Cup Fever

Was it really twelve years ago that the US Women's team beat China (in a penalty shoot out, no less) to win the World Cup? Mia Hamm, Briana Scurry, Brandy Chastain, I remember that summer so clearly for a lot of reasons, but the FIFA Women's tournament was definitely one of them.

Today I saw the first round match-up between the US and North Korea, and watching the contest sparked all those old memories. There also may have been a certain vibe that was missing in the two German-dominated contests since '99. I'm usually not "that" nationalistic sports fan, but call me crazy: I have a good feeling for team USA in this one.

(And, yes, there's an app for it.)

There's an App for That

This summer I intend to go through a lot of my stuff and get rid of things I no longer use or need. I promised myself to dispose of at least one bag a week, but as of 6 PM this evening with a scheduled vacation departure of early morning the day after tomorrow, all my junk was securely gathering dust in its usual place.

On Wednesday, we are going to Universal Studios in Orlando to meet family. Before agreeing to this trip, I had no idea how complicated such a "classic" American vacation could be. Take for instance ticket levels and pricing. There are two separate parks, and a visitor has the choice of single park or multi-park access for one, two, three, or four days. Then there is the express pass; that will provide access to a separate, faster line for most rides (except the most popular). There are two types of those-- one will let you in the express line once per ride, but the other gives you unlimited times through. There are also meal plans and discounts on other area attractions that come with some tickets, but not others. Then, there's lodging...

It's hardly surprising that there are numerous websites devoted to how best to spend your time and money while visiting this particular part of Orlando, and what I also discovered tonight is that, yeah, there's an app for that. I have one that will give me a description and directions to any attraction in the park as well as the wait-time for the line there.

I think that will definitely come in handy, even beyond eliminating the need to refold those troublesome maps they always give you at the entrance of the park. In fact, it's mere existence has already helped me meet my summer cleaning goal. After downloading the "Universal Orlando" app, I turned to the bookshelf in our spare room and summarily tossed most of the travel guides and maps that I've been hanging on to for when we go back to Paris, the Badlands, San Diego, etc., because I realized I don't need them anymore... the most up-to-date info on my future destinations will be available on my phone.

Here Come the Veggies

Today for lunch we polished off that honking zucchini I picked from the garden yesterday, and tonight for dinner it's gumbo with homegrown okra. We spent a few hours this weekend trying to get the garden squared away for our week-long absence, and I can tell that, when we get back? There will be a lot of vegetables.

Hoo-Ray.

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary

A few weeks ago, I had a pretty intense conversation with the parent of a former student who is also very involved in the PTA at our school and in our district. She was concerned about some of the movies that the tolerance club had shown this year. Her objection was that we had not adequately helped the kids "process" the issues that they had been exposed to by viewing these films.

As an educator, I am wary of this idea of "helping" kids to think issues through. Many times it is reduced to getting the kids to say what they know we want to hear. This is part of the reason I became involved in the Tolerance Club. My experience has shown me that middle school children are very capable of parroting the "right" answers in discussions of, for example, bullying or discrimination, and yet their behavior when adults are not around belies their words. I wanted to find a way for the kids to come to the value of tolerance and acceptance on their own, so that they would be more likely to act on those values whether an adult was present or not.

I tried to explain my perspective to the parent. I told her that in my experience too much of education involved telling kids what to think rather than giving them the chance to think for themselves. She's a thoughtful person, and I received an email the next day thanking me for my time and assuring me that she values my experience and perspective, and asking if we can talk again.

Of course we will, and I'll welcome that conversation, because I thought of her today when I visited my garden for the first time in a week. There was a lot to do. The tomatoes were growing outside their cages, the strawberries desperately needed water, weeds were making steady progress, and the zucchini that had been no larger than my index finger had grown to almost 12 inches. I know I can't make my garden grow, but there's a lot I can do to help it do so.

No More Teacher's Dirty Looks

The last day of school is a necessary evil. Every year, the kids ask why we even have school and I always tell them the same thing-- if we weren't here today then we would have had this conversation yesterday; there has to be a last day. We do our best to maintain a regular schedule, or at least focus on academics in a fun way up until the bitter end, but it's really no better than glorified babysitting.

A few months ago, I read Moon Over Manifest by Clare Vanderpool, the Newbury winner this year. In 1938, the main character, Abilene, starts school in a new town on the last day. She meets her future classmates and even receives an assignment from the teacher, Sister Redempta. As for the other children, they collect their report cards, clean out their desks, and go home.

There's something to be said about going old school

The Old Lady and the Young Woman

Years ago I visited Ireland and took a driving tour around a couple of its scenic Atlantic peninsulas. At the time I was not a very experienced driver, and yet I did not hesitate to climb behind the wheel of the rental car, even though the wheel was located where I was used to having the passenger sit. Driving on the opposite side of the road gave me no pause either; I giggled a bit when, in a very charming Irish brogue, the rental agent advised us to “mind the roundabouts” and then politely added, “and please don’t curb the tires,” before depositing the keys in my outstretched palm with ill-disguised skepticism.

How many other Yanks had she seen go from brash to abashed when they returned their bashed rentals? Her attitude did not bother me, though, as I casually drove off on the left side of the road, and nor did the narrow winding roads scribing a thin line between the rolling green hills and the seaside cliffs. Admittedly, the roundabouts were a bit tricky, but it was in negotiating them that I realized that this endeavour could not be conscious—it was like looking at one of those optical illusion pictures that can be seen in two ways, like the young woman and the old lady—once you see both perspectives, it becomes easy to switch back and forth and also to focus on one. Of course, I lost this new point of view every now and then, but we returned the Ford Focus undamaged at the end of the week.

A while ago, Heidi decided that she would like to try a vegan diet for a while. At first, I was extremely resistant. Such a change seemed radical and frankly, a little depressing. Still, I agreed to go along for three weeks, cooking, if not eating, only plant-based foods. It wasn’t long before I discovered that I was having fun trying to create tasty, balanced meals from limited ingredients. I approached as a kind of cooking challenge, ever-mindful that it was only for a limited time. I found that I had kind of a knack for vegan cuisine (despite the inevitable failures: “cheesy” macaroni was the worst), and I also realized that I had been in a bit of a rut before, often relying on a rotation of the same old dishes in various combinations. For the first time in a while, I was thinking about new flavor profiles and researching new recipes and ingredients. I stopped focusing on what I couldn’t cook and turned my attention instead to what I could.

It is not my nature to embrace change, and lately I feel a shroud of dread descending on me at the least provocation. Reform Medicare? Change our email platform? Implement flexible scheduling? Work on Columbus Day? It doesn’t matter how minor the adjustment may be, I don’t want to deal with it, especially if I have not chosen for myself. They say that the Chinese symbol for crisis is a combination of danger and opportunity, and I can see how that is so. For me the choice is a little different: will it be the old lady or the young woman?

Silver and Gold

We held our end of the year staff party this afternoon, and it was a fun event. A couple of people are retiring, and so we took the occasion to honor them and wish them well. This is the end of my 18th year at this school, but it doesn't feel like it until I look around and realize that I am one of the old timers now. In fact, a few former retirees attended, and  not only was there definitely a generational divide, but I was on their side now.

One of my colleagues and I sat chatting as the party swirled around us-- music was playing; people were eating and drinking; groups formed and reformed on the couch, in the kitchen, and out on the deck. There was a lot of laughter, and my friend turned to me. "All of our young ones are really good," she said with a smile. "We're lucky."

I agree with her, and I hope they feel the same about us.

I'm Blushing

and those are real tears in my eyes. What I'm about to post may seem self-serving to some, but I want my mom to read it.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, we're wrapping up the year with personal profiles, People Magazine type pieces of journalism. The kids interviewed each other, but in the classes with an uneven number, I got involved in the project, too, both as reporter and interviewee. Here's what one of my kids wrote about me:

On June 30,1962 in Washington, D.C a child was born not knowing she would be come a teacher and a miraculous writer and reader.
    Tracey is an amazing, outstanding teacher. But there is definetely a child within her. "I think because she has had such a happy childhood that she is so good with kids." Tasnim  says.
    She is exciting and always knows what to do. She definitely likes teaching and she loves kids. And she also liked by everyone of her students.
    She is the oldest kid in her family so she was mostly always in charge. And being a teacher and having to be in charge of kids, she does not really feel out of place. "My brother and sister didn't give me a hard time so it was easy being in charge as a child!" Tracey says herself.
    Tracey as a little girl would pretend to be a teacher and would dream about it too. And now she is living the real thing. So what do her kids think about her in class. "She is fun to hang out with but also strict." her student Ashley says.
    Her childhood is such a big part of why she loves to teach and be a good teacher. "My mom was nice and awesome but also strict just like I am now." Tracey say she loves to teach and be a cool teacher with  her students. "She knows how to explain things but make it interesting." Maeve says.
    You really just have to admit she is a great teacher. "Although I have to work hard I love to work with kids." she says. I for one think she is an awesome teacher. Teaching makes Tracey happy.

Reading this piece was a special experience for me, and I know from listening to the students over the last few days how eager they are to read the profiles that their peers have written of them. I'm just so happy to have found such a great way to end our time together.

P.S. To regular readers of this blog, the author of this profile was the very same student who accused me of sucking the fun out of everything. Redemption is sweet.

But Who's Counting?

Today was the day when my students totaled up their independent reading for the year, and as usual, there were some pretty impressive figures.

Average pages per student: 10,788
(That's over three quarters of a million total pages.)
Average number of books completed per student: 49
Most avid reader: 73,286 pages and 190 books
Reader most in need of acceleration and encouragement: 904 pages and 10 books

Every one of those numbers is up from last year. I had my doubts about these kiddos in the beginning of the year, but, both in terms of writing and reading, they have finished strong.

Best of all is the improvement they see in themselves. "I can't believe it," one student said when she saw that she had read 33 books and almost 6000 pages. "I used to hate reading! Now," and here she picked up her copy of The Divide and literally hugged it, "I looooove it!"

Seven Wonders of the Modern World

Or, Instant Gratification is NOT Overrated

Streaming movies to mobile devices
Downloading books
Managing a library account online
Forever stamps
EZ Pass
Digital photos and phone cameras
Texting

Six Word Review

For Terrence Malick's Tree of Life:

I like a more narrative movie.

Einstein Never Met Us

e = 95 6th graders + 20 bowling lanes x 2 games each + 25 pizzas + ∞ refills on fountain drinks.

It wasn't the beach and dolphin watching, but it sure was a good time!

Citizens of the World

One of my students is moving to Okinawa over the summer. As the daughter of two USAF officers, she has moved around a lot in her 12 years-- Arizona, Colorado, Germany, Alabama, and Virginia have all been her home. Inevitably sad to leave her friends, she is excited, too.

She posted this on her kid blog:

I GET A JAPANESE SNEAK PREVIEW!

So, for dinner, me and my family and our friends went to this Japanese place where, I ate SEA WEED!!!!!! Haaaaaa……. It was so good……. I was like, dry, crunchy sea weed…… And along with rice,teriaki, a wee bit of pickled ginger, and tofu, it was a very delicious meal. It was probably the most exotic meal I’ve had too….. Pickled ginger is very, very strong, it tastes like a REALLY strong herb or something…… Everett, our friends' less then one-year old baby, was staring at the waitresses with his huge eyes……. SEA WEED!

I confess that, given the variety of ethnic food available in the very culturally diverse area in which we live, I was a little surprised that she'd never tried Japanese food before, but okay-- she's in for an adventure, and she seems up for it.

My family moved overseas when I was in middle school, and it changed our lives. For one thing, living in a foreign land can alter your perspective on what's relevant simply by expanding your frame of reference. This alteration continues in my life to this day: sometimes I find that, given my life experience, it's easier to grasp the implications of a certain international event, but more often, I'm left with the awareness of how little I know.

For example, I have a student who has left school a week early to travel with his family to Dubai and then on to the Sudan, where they are from. Just this morning, I heard a piece on the radio about violence in the Sudan as the date draws near when that country will be split in two, and South Sudan will become the newest country in the world. I don't even know which region my student's family is from, or where they will visit, or whether they supported splitting the country or not, but now, I really wish I did. Knowing Omar and his brother and parents has put a human face on this conflict for me, and that makes it relevant.

Writing Up Until the End

So, we're wrapping up the year with a taste of journalism. The students are conducting interviews and writing personal profile pieces. First, we drew names to see who would be interviewing whom. Next, we read about interview strategies and composed a list of questions. Then each student had 15 minutes to conduct their first interview. After that, they went over their notes, looking for a theme. We read examples of profile pieces, too. Once they had decided on their angle, they conducted brief follow-ups and worked on figuring out what questions to ask other people to get the supporting quotes they needed.

Today we started getting a few rough drafts in, and I was very impressed by the products I saw: there were some compelling angles and interesting quotes, too, and the writing was really good. This was a great activity to end the year with. It gives the kids a chance to talk to each other and to write about a topic of interest, one of their peers, for an audience they know well, also their peers.

I'm Proud of This

As the end of the year culminating activity, the science teacher on my team has asked our students to design a clean water action project, so several of the kids proposed starting a blog to inform people about the issues and to build support and involvement.

Nice.

The Spirit is Willing, but the Flesh is Weak

I've written a lot about one of our cats, Bingo, but I rarely mention the other. Her name is Penelope, and it is the name she came with when we adopted her from a rescue organization. For the first couple of years of her life, she was a feral cat-- born wild and living as nobody's pet. The vet said she has had at least one litter of kittens, too. Her first three months in our home were spent in the guest room, under the bed. She was terrified of everything and everyone. We were okay with giving her as much space and time as she needed, though, because really? What's the rush?

Over the last seven years, she has come a long way-- much further than simply out from under the bed. Oh, she's still very skittish; in fact she still runs away from me any time we meet on the stairs, but she warms to visitors much more quickly, and there is something about her manner which clearly communicates her desire to please us.

Desire and willingness are not always the same, however, and so she occasionally bites and flees, not to mention puts up a hell of a fight whenever the cat carrier makes an appearance. Still, I admire her spirit, though her flesh may be a bit weak. It all reminds me of one of Aesop's fables:


A scorpion and a frog met on the bank of a stream and the scorpion asked the frog to carry him across on its back. The frog asked, "How do I know you won't sting me?" 

The scorpion said, "Because if I do, I will die too." The frog was satisfied, and they set out, but in midstream, the scorpion stung the frog. 

As they both began to sink, the frog had just enough time to ask "Why?" 

And the scorpion replied: "Because it is my nature."

70-30: Penelope would have made it across.

I.O.Us

As the daily blogging challenge has continued, I've noticed that my students often post an empty message with nothing but a subject line in the morning and then go back and edit it throughout the day. This practice makes me curious, and I have asked different kids about it, but so far, they can't really explain why they do it.

Call me a writing romantic, but I kind of like to think of it as a promise to themselves and their readers that they will find time in the day to write something meaningful.

Caught Pink-Pawed

I've written before about our geriatric cat, Bingo. Pushing 18, (isn't that like 300 in cat years?), he continues to astonish us. As I've probably mentioned, the most notable thing about his dotage has been his weight loss and subsequent voracious appetite, particularly his extreme fondness for vegetables-- green beans, butternut squash, avocado, and so forth.

Today, he added to his bony bad-ass reputation:

Roasted beets cooling on the stove? Shouldn't be a concern, right?

Wrong.

Missing: One whole roasted beet.

Exhibit one: Torn aluminum foil and a trail of beet bits accross the stove.
Exhibit two: Bright pink paws and muzzle on a certain Maine Coon cat.

Gee. I wonder what happened to the beet.

Think Twice, Click Once

There was news today of the press descending upon Sarah Palin's FOIA-released email messages, not the ones she sent from her official account, but rather the ones she sent from her yahoo account to alaska.gov addresses and also the ones she received from the state servers. Reporters were lined up to receive the 24,000+ pages, and news organizations are enlisting the help of their readers, viewers, and listeners to wade through the material in search of something newsworthy.

Who knows what they'll find, but it certainly sends home that rider that is automatically attached to our school email messages:

Please be advised that email is not a secure form of communication. There should be no expectation of right to privacy in anything sent via electronic mail.

Summer Bloggers

That's the name of the kidsblog.org blog that I set up for any interested students. A purely optional activity that I put in place to encourage summer writing, so far over 60% of my kids have signed up for their first "real" blog. They seem pretty enthusiastic, and who can argue with that?

Here are a few excerpts that show the kind of writing they are doing all on their own:

Well hello, I see you are reading my blog. Are you this interested in what I have to say? Well then go ahead, keep reading because, I HAVE A LOT TO SAY (most of the time). Let me just start out with me and my interview with myself. ~Lili


I can’t believe I have a blog! I feel so special! I have also come up with some ideas to make the blog(s) better! I think we should hold competitions, just like the SOLSC and Alphabiographies. ~Chris


Yesterday, today, tomorrow, and possibly Thursday have been and will be the best days of American Studies for this whole year. We have been watching the movie Glory! ~Jay


Just wanted to know who is ready to get on with summer!!! To take a nice long break from school, and kick around doing nothing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am!!!! Right now, I’m having a mental breakdown, and I NEED a break. ~Bridget


This is sooooooo cool! I just love this! I have always wanted to be part of a blog, but I haven’t until now! Is that just like everyone else? I just can’t wait to really get started. ~Maeve


Being stuck like glue onto a song isn’t a very good thing. Are you stuck like glue onto a song? Well, I am. And coincidentally, the song title is stuck like glue!  ~Joann


Take 5s are one of my favorite chocolate bar, if you’ve never tried one it’s like chocolate covered pretzels in a bar. Anyways when I was six my family went Hershey park and they sometimes give out free samples so I got to try a take 5 before it was even out yet. So when I go to Hershey park tomorrow I’ll try to get a take 5. What’s your favorite candy bar? ~Helen

It should be an interesting summer!

The Century Club

Today marks the 100th day since my students started their Slice of Life challenge back on March 1. I have five kids who have never missed a day since then, including one boy who called his mom from a soccer tournament in Philadelphia and dictated his post.

Here's what one student had to say about her accomplishment:

WOOHOO!!! It has been now 100 days of posting CONSTANTLY on SOL!!!
I feel proud now.......
Has it really been 100 days of posting on SOL?
Time does go quickly..
Anyways, I wonder if anyone else have posted for 100 days....
I would like to thank MS. S for making the SOL challenge, and I HOPE THAT YOU KEEP DOING IT TO THE FUTURE 6th GRADERS!!!
YOU ROCK!!!

Thank you, Silvia. (I'm sure she meant "for" the future 6th graders...)

Number Sense

A couple of weeks ago I was in meeting where the topic of a particular student's number sense came up. He can identify coins, the math teacher said, but he has no idea about value. I am not a math teacher, although I do love math, and I like to show off my own math skills anytime I have the chance. For example after-school homework club:

Me: What's wrong?
Student: I can't figure this out.
Me: Can I help?
Student (with doubt and a dab of disdain): I'm in advanced math...
Me: Yeah, I think I can probably give you a hand.

A few minutes later...

Student: You should be a math teacher!

And so it goes, but, as I also like to tell the students, I have been in sixth grade for an awfully time, and it would be pretty sad if I didn't know the curriculum by now.

So this discussion about the student and money threw me for a loop. Not having children of my own, I never considered how you teach monetary value. I'm guessing an allowance and shopping opportunities, but I was surprised again yesterday when one of my homeroom students came up to my desk.

"Can I go to my locker?" he whispered.

"Why?" I inquired.

"My mom gave me an envelope with 12,000 dollars in it," he told me.

"What!? She did not! Why would she do that?"

"It's for the thing," he said quietly.

"What thing? You do not have 12,000 dollars in your locker..." I started, but then I realized the quickest way to get to the bottom of all this was for him to go get it.

He returned a few minutes later looking sheepish. "It wasn't 12,000 dollars," he said.

I was not surprised.

"It was only eleven thousand two hundred," he continued.

"Let me see that," I said. "This says 112.00 dollars!" I told him.

"Oooooh," he answered apologetically.

"What's it for?"

"Math summer school," he whispered.

"Good," I nodded. "Good."

Stay in Touch

Yesterday, I stood in a large crowd downtown while a man to my left carried on a loud phone conversation. Where are you? By the theater? I can see the theater. Are you near the guy in the chef's coat? Oh, you're past him? Which way are you going? What side of the street are you on? Wait there-- I'm coming to get you. No. I see you. Do you have a thing in your hair? I'm waving. Do you see me? Come on over. Bye.

By the end, I was as anxious to see his friend as he was, maybe even more so because of how curious I was about the thing in her hair. Fortunately, it wasn't long at all before she and her pink silk flower walked past me, her arms outstretched, her hand still clutching her phone, and soon I tuned out their face to face conversation, trying to remember how we ever connected before we had our mobile phones.

This morning I heard a little story on the Writer's Almanac about Maxine Kumin and her best friend Anne Sexton. Back in the early 60s, these poets were so close that they had extra phone lines installed in their houses so that they would never have to hang up on each other. I'm sure at the time it was considered a bit extreme, but they were definitely on the right track. Visionary, even.

The Post-Alphabiography Post Syndrome Post

They say it only takes 30 days to develop a lasting habit. Could be. I'll tell you what, tonight all I can think of are possible alphbiography topics: W is for Weeding, X is for X-men, P is for PostHunt (F is for Fink-- you know who you are), and 2 is for Could There Really Be Over 2 Weeks Left?

A is for Alphabiography, Again

Today is the last day of the challenge I issued to my students back at the end of April. It started out as twenty-six posts for the month of May, one for each letter of the alphabet, but we expanded it to numbers for the kids who wanted to continue posting every single day, so there ended up being 35 possible topics, and those of us who did them all are on our last post today.

I am very proud of my students for all the great writing they have done this month. Most of them really stepped up to the challenge. Last week as part of another assignment, one of the kids was interviewing me. "So, how did you come up with the alphabiographies?" he asked.

I explained that I had adapted other teachers' ideas that I'd read about on the internet, and I told him that one of my objectives was for the students to build writing fluency. He looked puzzled. "You know," I said, "the ability to write more easily-- longer, faster?"

"Ooooohh," he seemed surprised. "Because I've really noticed that in myself lately and was wondering how it happened."

Life Lesson: It's not rocket surgery: skills improve with practice.

1 is for Just One of Those Things

Every year since 2001, our sixth grade team has taken a trip in June to go dolphin watching. It's about three hours away, so we charter buses, spend a couple of hours at the beach, and then board a really big boat for a 2-hour cruise skirting the capes of Delaware in search of marine mammals. Next it's back on the bus, and a few hours later we're home. It's usually a nice day and a pleasant way to end the year. It also offers experiences that many of our students have never had: the beach, the boat, or both.

This year will be an exception to the tradition. Our school system has adopted a stricter set of guidelines for planning field trips, and the charter company we use could not produce the paper work we needed to have the trip approved. I don't want to judge either the new rules or the guy who owns the charter boat; I believe everyone involved wants what's right and what's safe-- it just didn't work out for the kids this year.

Life Lessons:

1) Better safe than sorry...
2) A person's word and a handshake ought to mean something.

6 is for 6000 Steps or So

Tomorrow we're walking to a local park for our annual water cleanliness and testing field trip. Because we have about 100 kids on the team, we're taking them in two groups. It's always a negotiation to decide which teachers will go and which will stay back on such a trip. Of course, the science teacher goes; it's her curriculum, but after that? It all depends on who's absent, who's healthy, who's willing, and whose turn it is.

This year, like last year, I'm present, healthy, and willing, and so I'm going both times. Lucky me! The walk is lovely, the weather is supposed to be gorgeous, and the activity is fun. Not only do I get to be outside all day, but I'll get a little exercise, too.

Life Lesson:

Keep on the sunny side, always on the sunny side,
Keep on the sunny side of life.
It will help us every day, it will brighten all the way,
If we keep on the sunny side of life. 
~Ada Blenkhorn

8 is for 823

That is the number of this post-- I've posted to my blog 823 consecutive days. Usually, I try to avoid writing about the number of times I've posted, even the milestones, because I've decided over the last couple of years that there are two types of blog posts that are crushingly boring: writing about how you don't know what to write and writing about how much you have written.

Don't get me wrong. I've definitely written several of each type, but I try to give those pieces either an alternate focus, an original spin, or both. I'm not saying I succeed at that, and in truth I've almost made peace with the fact that it's okay to post something I don't love. It's okay, because it means I'll write again tomorrow, and who knows? That one might be awesome.

Do you know what will really be a milestone for me? The day I stop caring about how many times I've posted in a row. Because then writing every day will not be a chore or a requirement, but rather just a thing I do.

Life Lesson: If you have to think about it, it's not a habit.

4 is for 40 Minutes on the Treadmill

I try to go to the gym regularly; in fact I was there today. Whenever I go, my routine is to spend about 40 or 45 minutes doing cardio, and then I lift weights. It can get boring, even with music or movies to distract me. One of the things I do in the first part of my workout is walk on the treadmill. It's not very strenuous, so I have two options if I want to kick it up a notch: go faster or go higher. In "real life" I love to hike, so my choice in that situation is to raise the incline, or to climb as I walk. One of the handy things about working out on a machine is the stat screen: it will tell you your speed, your distance, your calories, and also your elevation. When I walk, I like to imagine that I am climbing one of the mountains in Acadia National Park in Maine. I go there every summer to hike, and the rest of the year I read the trail maps like favorite poems or post cards from the old me to the now me. So on the treadmill I watch for every foot I climb: 284? Flying Mountain. 520? That's the Beehive. 681 is Acadia, and 839 is Beech. 1373 is Sargent, the second highest mountain on the island.

Well, OK,  I can't climb Sargent in 40 minutes... yet!

Life Lesson: Everything prepares you for something. Find out what!

7 is for Heads Up 7 Up

Did you ever play this game in school? The teacher chooses seven kids to begin, and the rest of the class puts their heads down (they are supposed to close their eyes, too) and one of their thumbs up. In fact, the teacher says, "Heads down, thumbs up!" to begin each round. The chosen seven roam the room; they must surreptitiously tap someone on the head and return to the front. Once tapped, your thumb goes down. When all seven kids are back in front, the teacher asks the seven who were tapped to stand. Now they must guess who tapped them, and if they are correct, they take the tapper's place in the next round.

Okay:

What...
is...
the...
point...
of...
THAT...
game!?

I ask both as a teacher and a former kid.

Here are my kid questions first: Doesn't it seem like the teacher always picks her favorites to begin? Then, those kids usually just pick their friends, right? Seriously, some kids never get to play.  Next, people cheat and peek at the shoes going by to try and figure out who tapped them, don't they? Finally, even if someone guesses right, the tapper can always lie-- nobody's keeping track. What's up with that?

Here is my teacher question about this game: What is the objective here? (It can be very loose, I don't care, just give me a hint what you were thinking.) Why do we play this game?

Life Lesson: Question authority.

5 is for 5th Grade

My fifth grade teacher's name was Mrs. Nallin. I liked her well enough, mostly because she liked me, I think. She was pretty old then, older than I am now, with teased-up bleached-blond hair and reading glasses that made her eyes look huge. You could see her mouth wrinkles clearly when she frowned. She was old school, very stern and very strict, and she definitely had her favorites. Not surprisingly, she seemed to favor the kids who did their homework and followed her directions. Let me tell you, friends, that was definitely me.

Life was pretty easy in her class if she liked you; there was a lot of praise and positivity. The same could not be said for the other kids. Oh, I'm sure there was a middle ground between her pets and her peeves somewhere, but I have no idea who was in it. I do know the person who was her least favorite that year, though. It was Eddie Bubble-head. Well, that's what she called him. His real name was Eddie something else with a B.  He was always in trouble for something, but as far as I can remember his number one crime was not knowing his multiplication tables.

Mrs. Nallin had a wheel posted on the closet door. It was divided into twelve segments, with the numbers 1-12 written in each. In the center was a circle, and next to the wheel was an envelope with twelve numbered disks. There was also a pointer. The activity varied. At times Mrs. Nallin would place a number in the center of the wheel and as a class we would stand and recite the multiplication fact as she wielded the pointer like a sword. Faster and faster we would go, sometimes in numerical order and other times at random, spewing products in unison, beautiful in our precision.

Other times it was an individual trial, and alone you stood, pointer in hand, delivering the multiplication facts to the class. One was a joke; two? A breeze. Three was a bit harder, and four could be tricky. Five was an oasis-- who didn't know those? Six, seven, eight, and nine were respectably tough. Ten was ridiculously easy, and eleven and twelve were for the pros.

I was good at it. Eddie was not.

Could that have been the difference between being the golden girl and being the bad boy?

Yep. Pretty sure it was.

Last I heard, Eddie was a very successful businessman.

Life Lesson: Everyone has strengths and weaknesses. It's what you do with them that counts.

3 is for 3 Day Weekend and 3 More Weeks

Traditionally Memorial Day marks the beginning of summer, but around here, not so much. Because of our opening date in September (Labor Day really does mark the end of summer for us), we'll still have more than three weeks left when we return to school on Tuesday. I'm not complaining-- I'm not in any rush to say good-bye to my students. Even though I'll see most of them next year, it won't ever be the same again. How could it be? Spending 180 days working so closely is an intense experience and when it's over, it's over. I'll be their "old teacher" and they'll be my "former students."

Sure, we've had some ups and downs, and some days have been way better than others, but in general, it's been a great year. So, while I'm enjoying my three days off, I'm thinking about school, too, and I'm looking forward to three more weeks with some really amazing people.

Life Lesson: Enjoy it while it lasts.

J is for Jersey Girl

From the time I was 4 until I was 13 my family lived in New Jersey. Personally, I was very happy there, and I had a lot of pride in my state. In middle school I joined a history club called the Jerseymen, and we even went to a convention in Atlantic City where I was elected Lieutenant Governor for Burlington County. A few months later, my family moved to Saudi Arabia, and I had to resign my office.

In Saudi, my brother and sister and I went to an international school with kids from all over the world. There were kids from all over the United States, too, and it was there that I met my first Texan. We were actually pretty good friends, best friends, really, so you can imagine my surprise the first time we ever talked about how great our homes in the States were. "New Jersey?" she sniffed. "What could possibly be good about New Jersey?" And then she laughed before she continued. "Now, Texas..." and blah, blah, blah, she was off on how much bigger and better everything was in Texas.


"New Jersey is just as good as Texas!" I insisted, "If not better!"

"Ha!" she answered. "Let's see. We have Houston." She looked at me like, top that.

"Well, we have... um, we have... well Philadelphia and New York are close by."

"They don't count. We have the Alamo."

"We have Atlantic City?"

""OK," she shrugged. "We have blue bonnets."

"We have blueberries. New Jersey is the Garden State."

"Who cares? We have Dallas."

"We have the Pine Barrens," I said, "AND the Jersey Devil!" It was my turn to look triumphant.

"What are those?" she said. "Wait, it doesn't even matter, because nobody outside of New Jersey even cares." She laughed at her own joke and then looked at me, her best friend. Her expression became kinder. "Oh cheer up!" she said and threw her arm around my shoulders. "Nobody here even cares if you're from New Jersey!"

But I cared.

Life Lesson: Pride doesn't have to come at the expense of someone else.

K is for Kansas

The Wizard of Oz has long been one of my favorite movies. When I was little it was only on TV once a year, and for my brother and sister and me that night was a very special occasion. It was almost like a holiday. All day long we waited in anticipation; we drew pictures of our favorite characters and acted out our favorite scenes. That night, we were allowed to stay up late and have popcorn and soda when it was on.

I liked the Scarecrow best; the lion and the Wizard really annoyed me. I thought Toto was the bravest, and the flying monkeys were super creepy. Of course the witch was... terrifying!  I had nightmares about that scene where Dorothy sees Auntie Em in the crystal ball and right as she's trying to talk to her the image changes to the Wicked Witch of the West. Eeeeeeeeee!!!

Most of all, I loved the part where the movie turns from black and white to color, and I remember when I "got it" and understood that by doing that the film makers were communicating something important about the difference between Oz and Kansas. Even so, I was never sad when it turned back. There was always something comforting about those warm shades of grey.

Life Lesson: (What else?) There's no place like home.

I is for In the Weeds

The end of the school year seems hectic to everyone. Students feel pressured to prepare and do well on standardized tests, teachers feel that deadline, too, and the change in everybody's schedules makes things feel a little off balance. In the food business, there's an expression for being waaaaay behind in your work. When that happens, you're in the weeds.

Every other job I've ever had besides teaching has been food-related: Before I was a teacher, I worked as a professional cook, and before that I waited tables, and before that I was a student manager in my college cafeteria, and before that I had kitchen duty in high school. So you could say that I know what it's like to be in the weeds.

In addition to my regular planning, teaching, and grading, I have a lot to do in the next 29 days-- meetings, unit plans, observations, field trips, team activities, and lit mags all need to be checked off my lengthy list. Wait! What's that I see all around me? Yep... it's definitely the weeds.

Life Lesson: The view is worth the climb.

O is for One Way Trip

In the science section of The Washington Post this morning, there was an article about journeying to Mars. It seems that some scientists believe that people will be ready to go and explore the red planet a lot sooner if we don't have to worry about getting them back... Yes, you read correctly. The mission to Mars would be one way. Explorers would have everything they needed to survive and start a colony, except a way back to Earth.

Nobody thinks that life on Mars would be easy, or even last very long, but it would undeniably be one of the greatest exploratory expeditions ever. In fact, over a thousand people have already informally volunteered to be a part of the project.

Think about it though: how different would the experience of going to Mars be than that of most people who immigrated to America a hundred and fifty years ago? Not much-- leaving your family then was almost always a last good-bye, and yet millions of people made that choice. In fact, most of us wouldn't be here if they hadn't.

Life Lesson: Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.

W is for a Wild Animal in My Garden

It's funny how kids become famous in a family for certain things they said or did when they were little. My sister used to say "Mo," when she meant "No," and my brother was well-known for his fish face-- the extreme pout he put on when he was verrrry displeased.

Our next generation have all had their memorable moments and quotes as well. When he was two, my nephew Riley fell flat on his bottom after trying and failing to give our cat a good kick in the butt. We scolded him soundly, of course. "What were you thinking!?" we asked.

"I just wanted to kick him over," he answered honestly.

His brother, Treat, is remembered for many things he said when he was a wee beastie, and one of them was, "I'm just going to skip time out... yeah, that's an option." It really wasn't.

Our godson Josh desperately wanted a pet hamster, unfortunately, the one he got was not a very friendly fellow-- he would bite anybody who even tried to pick him up. "He's not a ho'din hamster," Josh would tell us sadly.

Kyle, our nephew, used to call our dog Isabel, "Lisabel," and Lizzy is still one of her nicknames.

When he was very little, my youngest nephew, Richard, loved diggers and trucks. One day, as a dump truck rattled noisily past the house, he ran to see what it was, then turned to us with two thumbs up. "That guy was movin!" he reported.

His sister Annabelle, once saw a possum in the back yard. To this day she'll tell you about it, breathlessly: "I saw a wild animal in my garden!"

Life Lesson: Kids say and do the darnedest things, and even if they usually don't remember them, no worries-- that's what the older people are for.

L is for Lee's Woods

Arlington National Cemetery might be one of the most famous cemeteries in the world. More than 300,000 people have been buried there in the last 147 years, but few people know that it was designated as a cemetery in part to punish Robert E. Lee. Until the Civil War, the land that ANC lies on today belonged to Lee and his family. Their mansion still stands on the hill overlooking Washington, DC and surrounded by thousands of graves. When Lee made the decision to fight for Virginia and the Confederacy, his land was confiscated by the Union. Montgomery Meigs, a former friend of Robert E. Lee, and the Quartermaster General of the Union Army ordered the first soldiers buried in what had been the Lee's garden, because he knew that once that was done, the Lees would never return to live in their family home again. Meig's son had been killed in the war, and Meigs was so angry with Lee's betrayal that he wanted to make sure he lost his home.

It's amazing to think about all the history of that location-- both human and natural: because the grounds used to be private property, there is a stand of woods that is one of the last old growth forests left on the east coast. (Most woods in the United States have been cleared and farmed or settled at one point, and have now returned to forest, but an old growth forest is one that has never been cut down.) Right across the street from the mansion, are some woods, and some of the trees growing there today were standing when Robert E. Lee was alive, 150 years ago and longer. There is also a huge wild raspberry patch-- don't ask me how I know-- but around the fourth of July, you can pick ten pounds of berries if you know where to go. Watch out for the poison ivy, though.

Life Lesson: The life of humanity is so long, and that of the individual so brief... it is history that teaches us to hope. ~Robert E. Lee

D is for Doomsday

The beginning of the end of the world did not happen today. Despite the predictions of a small but vocal group of religious fundamentalists, half of the people on earth did not disappear leaving the others to face five months of turmoil before the ultimate apocalypse.

There was no catastrophe back on January 1, 2000, either, even though many people told us there would be a huge problem when lots of computers thought it was 1900 instead of 2000. New Years Day was as quiet and uneventful as usual.

Our next date with doom is on December 21, 2012. That's when the Mayan calendar supposedly ends, and with it, some people think, the world as we know it. Whenever someone asks me what I think of such predictions, my usual reply is something like, "I don't think so, but what do I know?"

Life Lesson:

Fire and Ice
By Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

R is for Remains

We were fascinated in my third period class this week when one of the students came in with the tale of confiscating a relatively fresh skull from her dog. According to her, there was still some hair and tissue, but otherwise the thing was not very recognizable (although her dad thought it might be a cat!). All those police and detective novels I've read kicked right in, and after questioning her for a few more relevant details, I started googling images of small mammal skulls, but without any luck. It wasn't a cat, a squirrel, a possum, a raccoon, or a puppy (thank goodness...). It was always the eye size that was wrong-- whatever it was, it had pretty tiny eyes. When the bell rang for lunch, I sighed and gave up.

Fortunately, she brought a cell phone photo in today, and before I ever got to see the picture, one of the other kids recognized it as a skunk. We searched again for an image to confirm his hypothesis, but it was never 100%. There was too much gore on the one in her picture to make a positive identification. LAter, though, I did some more research and found that skunks do indeed have very small eyes. They rely on their hearing and smelling more than sight.

Coincidentally,  I heard a story on the radio this morning about why mammals have such big brains, especially compared to reptiles. Millions of years ago, dinosaurs were hunting in the day, so anything that could hunt at night had an advantage, because it wasn't prey or competition to the dinosaurs. The theory goes that mammals developed a strong sense of smell to help them hunt in the dark, and that the sense of smell takes up more brain space, so their brains grew to be larger and larger. Later, some mammals evolved into daytime predators, and they have larger eyes, but not the skunk. Good job, Skunk!

Life Lesson: Do what you're good at.

2 is for the 24 Game

The premise of the game is simple-- each card has four digits and players must use each number once and add, subtract, multiply, and/or divide to get 24. The cards often have more than one solution, but there are no answer keys, so the only way to figure it out is to figure it out.

Our sixth grade team has an annual Challenge 24 tournament and as that time of year approaches, we dig out the brightly colored blue, yellow and red cards and start playing with our homerooms to get them in practice for the competition. To be successful, good mental math skills are helpful, but not required. Over the years I've become convinced that the best way to win is to look for the patterns, especially 8 x 3 and 6 x 4, although this year I have a student who is all about 16 + 8-- that combination seems to work for him pretty often.

I found out today that there is actually an app for the game and of course I downloaded it right away. At first, playing electronically seemed harder, somehow, and I was really slow. It took me a while to notice that all the numbers are right side up on the iVersion of the game. I think that difference was disorienting enough to slow my brain down until I became accustomed to it. The longer I played, though, the better I did.

Life Lesson: Sometimes our brains work in strange ways, but that's okay as long as they work!

X is for X Marks the Spot

Do you think it would be fun to follow clues leading to a hidden treasure? If your answer is yes, then Geocaching is for you! Geocaching is an international game where people hide "caches" all over the world, then they post the GPS coordinates of these hidden stashes on a website called geocaching.com along with clues to help other geocachers find them.

Once you find a cache, you sign the log book and post your discovery. Some caches have trading items-- you take a fun trinket from the collection inside and replace it with one of your own. Some of them have "travel bugs." These are things that travel from cache to cache-- your job is to help them on their way by taking them from one site and placing them in another. For example, once I found a Red Sox keychain that was trying to travel from Florida back to Boston in time for the world series. Fortunately, I was going that way on vacation, and so I dropped it off about 10 miles west of Fenway Park.

You would be amazed how many caches there are-- it's over 1.3 million worldwide. You can find them almost anywhere you go-- in my small town alone, there are over 500, and one of them is even on the grounds of our school. When I first started geocaching, you needed a special device to play, but these days, many smart phones have GPS capability, and some of them even have an app to help you play, so it's easier than ever to get started with this fun hobby, so what are you waiting for?

Life Lesson: There's treasure everywhere!

Q is for Quite Quarrelsome

Dear Students,

Can we just agree that if you were not doing something that should be corrected then I wouldn't be redirecting you? That alone would save so much time.

You wouldn't have to act like you were completely mystified that I spoke to you in a bit of a sharp tone: What did I do? I wasn't doing anything! Who me? 

I wouldn't have to point out the obvious in exasperation. Really? You're surprised that I object to you wandering around the room when you should be writing? 

We wouldn't have to debate over the tiny details: I wasn't "wandering!" I was looking for paper, going to sharpen my pencil, getting a tissue, etc.

Honest, I did not become a teacher to arbitrarily control your life. There's a method to my madness, but I'm pretty sure you know that already. Right?

Life Lesson: An error doesn't become a mistake until we refuse to correct it.

N is for Netflix

Today at the gym I watched a movie on my iPhone. Usually I listen to music, but for a change I decided to just pick something from my Instant Queue on Netflix and that was that-- I was entertained as I plodded along on the treadmill. When I was a kid, if you wanted to see a movie, you had to go to the theater, and if you wanted to watch a particular TV show, you had to be in front of the television when it was on. There were no recordings of either of those. It's obvious that over the years, technology has really changed the way we view things, but I have to confess to a moment of amazement this afternoon when I looked down at the tiny screen in my hand and saw those credits roll.

Life Lesson: Today is the tomorrow we only dreamed of yesterday.