N is for Nope

Will we get a snack?
Can we chew gum?
Can we...
    play games
    take a nap
    go outside
when we're done?

These are the questions my students have about taking the high-stakes standardized tests that start tomorrow. Never mind that they never get a snack at that time; we don't allow gum anywhere in the school, but especially not in the computer labs; and planning fun activities at the end of anything encourages some kids to rush through and finish quickly.

But why shouldn't they dash to complete their test? In middle school, the consequences of these assessments are not borne by the students, but rather their schools and teachers. It is a disconnect that, despite their many questions, most sixth graders do not understand.

Life Lesson: Psst! Kid! I'll give you a granola bar if you pass this test.

M is for the Many Things She Gave Me

One of my mother's many, many charms is that she knows a song for every occasion, and she is never afraid to sing it.

Here's one she taught us years ago:

M is for the Many things she gave me.
O means only that she’s growing old.
T is for the tears she shed to save me.
H is for her heart of purest gold.
E is for her eyes with love light shining.
R means right, and right she’ll always be!

Put them all together, they spell MOTHER, 
a word that means the world to me.

Although personally, I feel that the second line needs some work, overall? I like it.

Life Lesson: I love you, Mom!

L is for Let's Go Already!

I am typing this very quickly, because my dog is whining at my ankles. A few minutes ago we asked her if she wanted to go to a party. She cocked her head in that cutest-dog-ever way she has, and when we elaborated, Do you want to see Sonic? Riley? Treat? Bill? Emily? She began barking and dancing around.

Too bad Heidi still needed to change, and I needed a quick trip to the powder room. Isabel whined and barked outside the door, and she is waiting very impatiently by the front door now. Fortunately, I hear Heidi on the stairs, and we will be on our way in just a second.

Life Lesson: Dogs live in the now, and now means NOW!

K is for Keeping Secrets

I have a colleague who is reading Gone With the Wind for the first time. She brings her kindle to the lunch room every day just to grab a few paragraphs of that tasty southern-fried drama, but the irresistibility of the tale and the fact that she is loving it seems to surprise her.

Not me. My mom gave me a copy of GWTW when I was 12, which coincided with one of the theatrical re-releases of the film, and she promised to take me to see the movie when I finished the book. It was definitely one of the most rewarding literary and cinematic experiences I've known.

So, it's fun to talk about the story, but since she hasn't seen the movie, either (!), it's a challenge not to give anything too important away. We were having one of our veiled conversations when another teacher on the team entered. She listened for a minute and then exclaimed, "Oh! Are you talking about Gone With the Wind?"

We nodded.

She turned to me. "You mean that part when Scarlett kills that guy who comes to their house and Melanie comes down with the sword?"

I shrugged at my friend apologetically. "Yep."

Life Lesson: If you want to keep something a secret, it's best to not speak of it all.

J is for Journalist

We have reached the personal profile portion of our English class. This is an assignment that I have experimented with off and on for the last six or seven years, but it truly came into its own last year, when after three solid months of blogging, my students were ready to turn that introspection out. (Plus, they had created quite a body of work for anyone who might profile them to use as a reference.)

The way it works for us is that each student is randomly assigned a classmate to profile. There are at least two interviews, and the first is a basic get-to-know-you opportunity for which the journalist prepares a list of questions designed to uncover a lot of information. After reviewing the notes and reading some of their subject's writing on our online community for background, journalists must narrow the focus to find an "angle" for the profile piece. Next is a second interview with a much more focused set of questions. Our young journalists must also interview friends, classmates, and teachers about their subjects.

The final product is a 500 word profile with a clear focus and theme. (Think "life lesson" because that's our frame of reference at this point.) It is a non-fiction research piece that exposes students to primary sources and demands analysis, synthesis, and artistry, but those are not its greatest strengths.

Life Lesson: The kids love it!

I is for It's About Time

I was surprised at how emotional I became this afternoon when I read that President Obama had expressed his personal support for gay marriage. My throat tightened and there were tears in my eyes, and for a moment, it didn't matter that it was too long in coming and still a much too political calculation; the pulpit of the presidency made a purely symbolic gesture very real and very important.

Life Lesson: Do not underestimate the power of validation.

H is for Hip Hip

Several months ago I was out with the dog on the big, grassy hill by our house. A neighbor and her dog joined us, and there was a lot of canine joy, enough in fact to literally sweep me off my feet. Oh, I jumped up in that desperate, I-meant-to-do-that way, and brushed off the apologies of my neighbor. I was fine, and nothing hurt, except my pride.

A few weeks later I noticed a definite hitch in my left-side giddyup, especially after sitting for a while or going up hills. Oh, I gamely limped along and, considering age and inactivity my primary nemeses,  increased my impact activities at the gym and focused more on lower body strengthening. After a while, it was still kind of owwie though, and so I made a doctor's appointment, which was canceled and then rescheduled for June.

At last I decided to call a doctor who specializes in acupuncture. Unlike everyone else I contacted yesterday, his office had a same day appointment at 4 PM. Considering it a good sign, off I went, and after a brief consultation and exam was diagnosed with bursitis of the hip.

It went like this: Dr. Tran listened to my story and then pressed a place on my upper leg.

"Ow!" I said.

"You have bursitis," he replied.

Looking it up later, it all made perfect sense-- the trauma, the delay of symptoms, the chronic pain-- it was a classic presentation of the condition. My primary care physician might have prescribed a shot of cortisone, (and she still could when I see her in June) but I opted for six twirling needles and a half-hour of quiet in the dark.

And I get to back on Thursday.

Life Lesson: Keep those alternatives open.

G is for Getting S#*! Done

Why in the world does it take so much time to attend to the details of our lives?

I took today off to catch up on some personal business-- bill paying, phone calls, errands, etc. A chunk of my to-do list involved making various appointments for me and my dog. Can't we say it's a little outrageous when I have to wait until June for a physical, July for a vet appointment, and August for an eye exam?

On the phone, I was on hold for an average of 6 minutes today (times four), except for the call that was busy seven times until I got through. The post office? 15 minutes in line. Goodwill? Ten minutes until an attendant was available to accept our donation. The grocery store was full of Monday shoppers who were trying to avoid the weekend rush.  And when all that was done, I still spent close to two hours answering emails and grading student work.

Some point proudly to our current economy which is producing more with fewer workers. They call it efficiency.

Life Lesson: I call it unsustainable.

F is for Friends Who Do Stuff Together

Our principal is retiring at the end of the year, and so each team has been tasked to come up with some kind of "presentation" for her farewell assembly next month. One of the teachers on our team suggested having the students sing something, but a few others were sure that these particular kids would never be willing.

It seemed to me that this was one of the singingest bunches of sixth graders I have ever known. In addition to the Poem in Your Pocket Day song just last week, I remembered a bus ride not long ago where I was glad we didn't have far to go because of the enthusiastically loud singing.

So the next day I decided to ask them, starting with my homeroom. I explained the whole presentation thing to them, and ended with, "What would you guys think about singing something?"

NO NO NO! It seemed unanimous.

"But I thought you liked to sing," I said. "I hear enough of it around here."

"Oh yeah," one student laughed. "Remember yesterday? When we were thinking of Alphabiography titles? F is for..."

That's all it took. The whole group joined in on that Sponge Bob classic, even the ones that weren't there yesterday. "U is for you and me!" they thundered.

I had to wait until the song was through to be heard above the raucous racket. "See? You love singing! How about it?"

They said they would think about it.

Life Lesson: Sometimes N is not for anywhere and anytime at all.

E is for End of the Road Trip

We have a tradition around here. When our travels take us farther than a couple of hours or so from home (as they did today when we drove up to New Jersey for a first communion), and the timing of the trip back gets us in past our usual dinner time (which is already on the continental end of the spectrum), the minute we walk in the door, I throw on a quick Putanesca Sauce and boil some water for pasta. Then, in the time it takes to unpack and unwind and pour a glass of wine, we have a home-cooked meal to clear the dusty taste of the road from our palates.

Life Lesson: Cue the ruby slippers.

D is for Draw Something

Back when we were doing the Slice of Life challenge in March, several students posted about how much fun they had with Draw Something, an app for their smart phones and tablets. They were convincing enough that I downloaded it, just to discover that it was a cooperative game, and I would need a partner to play.

I was so busy that I let it drop, but over spring break one of my fb friends started a game with me, and it didn't take long to get hooked on this pictionary-style diversion. In fact, I contacted my sister right away and got her playing, and my brother was next.

The object is to choose one of three options and draw it as quickly as possible, and then send it to your co-player. When it's your turn to guess, you get to see a real time recording of the drawing, and there are letters to choose from to help find the answer. As my students said-- it's really fun. Of course, there are rules about simply writing the answer down, but no one polices your game. Even so, I like to follow the rules.

Back at school, I mentioned to a couple of kids that I was playing, and immediately they wanted to challenge me. Hmmm. What to do? This was not really a school-related activity, but I couldn't see the harm in it.

Today, the New York City Department of Education released their social media guidelines for teachers. In so far as they apply to the largest, most high-profile school system in the country, I read them with interest. And, as extensive as they are? They don't mention Draw Something or any other games.

So... bring it, kids!

Life Lesson: Rules are rules... Right?

C is for Cooking Calamari

I read quite a few alphabiography drafts today, and perhaps my number one suggestion to my young writers was to add details. One student wrote that, "if you see someone cooking it, it's nasty, but calamari is delicious to eat." We talked a little about the piece, and then I asked him if he minded if I used it as an example, and he agreed.

"Do you know what's yucky about cooking calamari from this passage?" I asked, and all the students acknowledged that they did not. As a former cook who has cleaned and cooked quite a bit of squid, I was only too happy to fill them in on the details of grasping those eight slippery legs and two trailing tentacles, tearing them from the slimy water balloon-shaped mantle, scooping out the snotty purple guts of the animal, and throwing them away along with the milky eyes that stare at you with blank accusation as you amputate them from their body.

"EW!" someone said. "That's disgusting!"

"Exactly," I answered.

Life Lesson: "I get it! I get it!" another student raised his hand. "The writer has to use enough details so that it's the reader who says, 'Nasty!' Right?"

B is for Blowing it Off

I'm a pretty conscientious worker, but this afternoon I could not face what, in my mind, would be one more meaningless meeting, so I didn't go. I stayed at my desk and answered questions for a couple students who stopped by, graded papers, met informally with a colleague about writing workshop, and then, when my contract day was over, went to the gym and the grocery store.

Once, in a conversation I had with non-educators about education practice and teacher time, I complained about what I perceive as the generally inefficient use of meeting time. In response, someone said that the school system had no responsibility to make meetings relevant. Technically, he pointed out, teachers are merely public employees who serve at the pleasure of the school board and commonwealth, and if we were paid to be in a certain place at a certain time, then that is where we should be.

Not today.

Life Lesson: (See below) Engagement is everything!

Corollary: Relevance is essential to engagement.

A is for Away We Go

The first of May brings the second annual "Alphabiography" Challenge for my students. They are assigned to write short (100-250 word) "chapters" of their lives and title them by letters. The requirement is to write twice a week, but the challenge is to write either 20 times this month or all 31 days.

Each piece closes with a life lesson. This part is a good way to encourage these young writers to consider their purpose or message. Theme is an abstract concept that many sixth grade kids are just beginning to grasp, and these short, autobiographical vignettes give them a manageable and concrete step up to that higher order thinking.

Such consistent writing will help build their fluency and confidence, but I'm hoping it will be fun, too.


Life Lesson: Engagement is everything!

(Follow the Alphabiographica link to the right to see some examples of my students' writing.)

Glass Half... What?

At this time of the school year, everyone is really busy. Eight weeks out from summer vacation, there is a full slate of assignments and activities as every teacher and club sponsor pours it on for the big finish. With so many other things going on, it was hardly surprising then, that we only had four kids show up for Tolerance Club today.

None of them had been able to attend the showing of Bully that we had arranged yesterday, so we showed a few clips from the movie and talked about it with them. The most explicit footage in the film was shot on a school bus, and as I've written before, the images are appalling but not surprising to anyone who spends a lot of time with adolescent kids. Both times I saw the movie, the way the kids bully and brutalize Alex on the bus made people cry in the theater.

Today, when the clip ended, two of the girls who were there exchanged glances with eyebrows raised. "Do you guys think we have a bullying problem here at our school?" I asked. After a pause, they went on to describe an ongoing episode that sounded just as disturbing as the one on the screen.

"We told him to stop," one girl said, and I believed her.

"And I told his mother, too," she added, "but he still does it."

Oh, we got some names and details, and congratulated the girls for coming forward, and hopefully, our school will deal with this issue effectively.

And yet, ultimately, doesn't this story just demonstrate how insidious the problem really is?

In the Real World

So often these days in education we justify certain practices by telling ourselves and our students, "Hey, that's how it is in the real world." And indeed, it is our job as educators to prepare them for the challenges that will face them once they are finished with school.

And yet... isn't that particular argument so broad as to be practically meaningless, especially since we can apply it as creatively as we like? For example, in our school, kids are not allowed to chew gum. In the real world, gum chewing is fine, but perhaps not appropriate in every situation. On the other hand, the real world is full of rules that we may not agree with, (leash your dog, follow the speed limit) and there are consequences for not following them (if you get caught).

Maybe that's the lesson? (But will it be on the test?)

What Would Worf Order?

I got David Chang's cookbook, Momofuko, for Christmas. Even though I have never had the fortune to eat at one of his restaurants, his reputation as both ingenious chef and tell-it-like-it-is writer intrigued me. And although I have yet to prepare a single dish from his cookbook, his philosophy and technique have brought me back to the book Saturday after Saturday, and I know I'm getting close to making something.

In fact, I planned a stop at my regular Asian market today to purchase some ingredients I'd like to have on hand. How disappointed was I when the inventory that I believed was pretty extensive was missing some crucial items?

Back at home, I researched buying what I wanted by mail order, but then I thought about searching for other, bigger markets near-by instead. There were several options, which was not surprising in the least given the diversity of our area. One in particular caught my eye, and I remembered that I had actually been there years ago.

As I recall, the store itself is supermarket sized, and shopping there was like being transported to a different country. Very few of the products for sale were familiar at all. I was fascinated by all of it, trolling the aisles, trying to figure out what this or that item might be. When I got to the produce section, I'm sure I gasped at the array of alien fruits and vegetables, or was my breath taken away by the cold food bar?

Crock after crock of unfamiliar food was nestled neatly in that twenty foot bed of ice. It hardly seemed real, so disorienting was it to literally not know what any of that stuff was. The friend I was with joined me in silence at the sight of it. Finally I spoke. "Oh my God! It's a Klingon salad bar!"

A Rope of Sand

I had the fortune to spend the day with one of my teaching idols today. Nancie Atwell was giving a workshop a few miles from my home. When I first received the flyer back in January, I asked and received permission from our principal to offer the opportunity to any teacher in our department who was interested. We hoped that it might be a unifying experience for a group of well-intentioned educators with rather disparate approaches to teaching writing.

What makes Atwell so impressive is that she is clear-minded about her underlying principles and yet pragmatic in the application of them. Her writing lessons evolve year by year, as do the details of their delivery and execution, but her framework remains true to the student-centered approach she introduced in 1987 in her seminal work In the Middle. She remains steadfast in the face of education trends that ultimately undermine our objective to foster literate, thoughtful, independent-minded citizens.

This is the third time that I've heard her in person, and each time I feel that my teaching has grown a little closer to the standard she holds up, but each time I am also struck by how some of my core convictions have been eroded by outside pressures. I guess that I was hoping if I could get my colleagues on board, we could work together and support each other to stay as true to our ideals as Atwell does.

I wish I could say that the day was a magical panacea which cured us of all of our departmental dysfunction, but I'm afraid that's not true. I do believe that many minds were opened to the possibilities of the workshop approach, though, and so we'll move [forward?] from there.

Our English Holiday

Today was National Poem in Your Pocket Day, and as in years past, all of my students chose poems to carry with them. A part of our lesson was set aside for them to share if they wanted to.

It was a sweet day. Hearing young voices reciting verses that they have chosen is always uplifting. Every year, some kids select song lyrics, but today was the first time that anybody has ever asked to sing. Her version of You Don't Know You're Beautiful was met with applause and even demands for an encore.

Chipping Away

"I saw you carrying a bag into school yesterday," one of my homeroom students said this morning.

He's autistic, and he doesn't usually initiate conversations with me, so I was glad that he did, but like many teachers, I carry several bags every day, so it took me a few seconds to figure out what he was talking about."You mean that bag of chips?" I asked.

"Yeah. What were those for?"

"They were snacks for the Tolerance Club meeting," I told him.

"What's the Tolerance Club?" he asked.

"It's a club for kids that meets after school," I started. "We watch movies and talk about how to make our school a friendlier place. Do you think you would ever want to come to it?"

"No!" he said.

"Why not?" I asked him.

"Because it's for normal people," he answered.

That took me aback a bit. "It's for people who like people who are different," I told him. "Everybody is different in some way, right?"

"Yes," he said.

"So, would you like to come to a meeting sometime?" I asked again.

"Will I get chips?"

"Yep," I assured him.

"Then yes."

Job Description

I have a colleague whose ex-husband used to wonder why she was so tired at night. "All you have to do is sit behind your desk all day and say, You may begin," he told her. I wonder why that marriage didn't work out.

Recently the NY Times published a piece about the software developed by the Educational Testing Service, e-Rater, that can read and score 16,000 essays in 20 seconds. Wow! Never mind the current flaws in the system, like disregarding facts and nonsense in favor of big vocabulary words and long sentences. Seriously! Any English teacher working her customary 50-60 hour week might be justified in indulging in a little wishful thinking.

Who wouldn't want to throw all your grading into a machine? Who cares if we start to teach students to write to a convenient algorithm rather than a human audience? While they're at it, maybe they can write some code so that e-Rater interfaces with the grade book, too!

Yeah, then I can get back to sitting on my butt, collecting my colossal paycheck, and biding my time until I can retire at the expense of the hardworking, private-sector citizens of my state.

Hey, ETS! You may begin.

Bully Pulpit

Today I took the opportunity to promote a couple of up-coming Tolerance Club activities in all of my English classes. In addition to the showing of Bully that we arranged, we were sharing the Academy Award Winning short subject documentary, Strangers No More, today after school.

I don't often take class time to do so, because there are always posters and morning announcements about every event, so I assume that if they are interested, students will attend.

Wrong. We had 15 new people show up this afternoon, and yes, they were all my students.

Where Do We Start?

We saw the movie Bully today. It has been on our list since we first heard of it, but in order to encourage as many members of our school community to see it, the Tolerance Club is sponsoring a showing next Sunday afternoon, and I have agreed to help facilitate a brief discussion afterward for whoever is interested in staying. Obviously, I wanted to see the movie in advance.

There are tons of materials about bullying available both in general, and on the official website of the movie. So much stuff is out there in fact, that it can be overwhelming. Watching the movie today, which spans the school year 2009-10 and follows the experiences of five families of kids who have been bullied, my heart of course broke for the victims of such cruelty. As a person who works in a school, I know first hand how widespread bullying is, and also how difficult it is to address effectively, much less eradicate.

In fact, that is why we started the Tolerance Club, as an acknowledgement that we adults have to help the kids change the climate in their school. We, like most schools in the nation, have a zero tolerance for bullying, but most aggression takes place out of sight of authority. Must we be more vigilant? Absolutely, but the key is in changing the culture of the kids.

As I watched, I also considered what I might say next week and how best to focus the conversation in the little time we would have. The statistics say that 13 million kids get bullied each year, which is a staggering number, but common sense says that there are more bullies than victims. Therefore, parents are more likely to have children who are bullies, or at least bystanders, than they are to have kids who have been bullied.

That seems like a good place to start a discussion.

The Monster We've Created

Oh how cute it seemed when our cat started playing Game for Cats on the iPad. It was soooo hilarious to watch her track the moving images on the screen. She was pretty good at the game, too, so much so that we threatened to limit her screen time.

Well... now she thinks any screen time is her screen time, especially if something moves on the screen. Seriously, folks, I can not pick up the iPad without my feline friend dashing over to see what we're going to do with her toy.

In fact, she had a lovely conversation with my sister on FaceTime this afternoon.

Pineapplegate

Let me add my voice to the chorus condemning dumb test questions. (But wait! Why stop at the questions?) I'm referring, of course, to the recently reported uproar over questions taken from a NY State test of reading for 8th graders. See what you think.

Directions: Read the passage carefully and answer the questions that follow.

In olden times, the animals of the forest could speak English just like you and me. One day, a pineapple challenged a hare to a race.

(I forgot to mention, fruits and vegetables were able to speak too.)

A hare is like a rabbit, only skinnier and faster. This particular hare was known to be the fastest animal in the forest.

“You, a pineapple have the nerve to challenge me, a hare, to a race,” the hare asked the pineapple. “This must be some sort of joke.”

“No,” said the pineapple. “I want to race you. Twenty-six miles, and may the best animal win."

"You aren't even an animal!" the hare said. “You're a tropical fruit!"
“Well, you know what I mean,” the pineapple said.

The animals of the forest thought it was very strange that tropical fruit should want to race a very fast animal.

"The pineapple has some trick up its sleeve," a moose said.

Pineapples don't have sleeves, an owl said

"Well, you know what I mean,” the moose said. "If a pineapple challenges a hare to a race, it must be that the pineapple knows some secret trick that will allow it to win.”

“The pineapple probably expects us to root for the hare and then look like fools when it loses,” said a crow. “Then the pineapple will win the race because the hare is overconfident and takes a nap, or gets lost, or something.”

The animals agreed that this made sense. There was no reason a pineapple should challenge a hare unless it had a clever plan of some sort. So the animals, wanting to back a winner, all cheered for the pineapple.

When the race began, the hare sprinted forward and was out of sight in less than a minute. The pineapple just sat there, never moving an inch.

The animals crowded around watching to see how the pineapple was going to cleverly beat the hare. Two hours later when the hare cross the finish line, the pineapple was still sitting still and hadn't moved an inch.
The animals ate the pineapple.

MORAL: Pineapples don't have sleeves

Questions:

Beginning with paragraph 4, in what order are the events in the story told?

A switching back and forth between places

B In the order in which the events happen

C Switching back and forth between the past and the present

D In the order in which the hare tells the events to another animal


The animals ate the pineapple most likely because they were
A Hungry
B Excited
C Annoyed
D Amused

Which animal spoke the wisest words?
A The hare
B The moose
C The crow
D The owl

Before the race, how did the animals feel toward the pineapple?
A Suspicious
B Kindly
C Sympathetic
D Envious

What would have happened if the animals had decided to cheer for the hare?
A The pineapple would have won the race.
B They would have been mad at the hare for winning.
C The hare would have just sat there and not moved.
D They would have been happy to have cheered for a winner.

When the moose said that the pineapple has some trick up its sleeve, he means that the pineapple

A is wearing a disguise
B wants to show the animals a trick
C has a plan to fool the animals
D is going to put something out of its sleeve

A Dozen Opportunities

"What are those doughnuts for?" a student asked me today during class. He had spotted a see-through grocery bag containing a dozen Krispy Kremes behind my desk.

"They're for Writing Club," I told him.

"What's that?" he wanted to know.

And so I gave him a brief overview of the group. "Um, it's a club where kids who like to write come and write and share their writing."

"Can anyone come?" he asked.

I was pretty sure it was the doughnuts talking, since this particular student is a rather reluctant writer, but I told him that anyone was welcome, and secretly, in my writer's heart of hearts, I hoped he would come and that it would make a difference.

"I'm coming!" he said.

"Then I will see you there!" I answered, and upon returning to the lesson, promptly forgot the entire conversation.

Flash forward to 2:30 when, to my surprise, that guy and his equally non-writing buddy actually showed up for our meeting. I was glad, but the regular attendees looked upon these new recruits with doubt. They were classmates, but they were from very different social groups, and while you can't choose the kids in your class, the regulars liked writing club partially because it was a self-selected group of people with a like interest.

"You have to write, you know," one of the old timers informed the new boys.

They shrugged.

"They're just here for the snack," the first kid said, shaking his head in dismay.

Fortunately, there were notebooks and pens and yes, doughnuts, to distract and unify everyone. Our plan was to go outside and do some writing, and that is what we did. We found a pleasant spot, wrote for five minutes, and then moved to another location. There was plenty of chatter and play along the way, and everyone got some writing done.

At the end of the hour, as we headed back into the building, I found myself walking beside Mr. Skeptical. "That was fun," he said. "Those guys can be annoying in class, but they were all right today. I'm glad they came."

A Little Too Far Outside the Box?

My students are in the first stages of writing book reviews, and so I had them prepare some interview questions for each other about the books they were considering reviewing. The beauty of this assignment is that the other student need not have read the book; in fact it's better if he or she hasn't, because those questions help the reviewer figure out what the audience needs to know. The interviews also give the reviewer insight into who may or may not like the book. Plus it's a good way to get kids talking and thinking about books and writing.

Anyhow, my advice when they are writing the questions is for them to be as creative as possible. They will hear a brief summary of the book to begin with, so I encourage them to compose questions that will lead to a lively discussion.

I like it when my students follow the directions, and it pleases me when they are surprising, but I was a little shocked when I heard this question:

Which character would you be most likely to torture for information, how would you do it, and what would you want to know?

Fortunately? I know the student and how he thinks; the guy is just itching for adults to tell him he can't do something, so then he gets to debate the injustice of our authority rather than do the assignment. I don't usually pick that battle with him, but after a little prompting he amended his question to include this disclaimer:

In other words, who is your least favorite character and what would you say if you met them?

Moving Mountains

Our Tolerance Club took a group of 28 kids to the Martin Luther King Memorial this morning. I had been by the site from the Tidal Basin side, but not inside, as we had Isabel with us, and dogs are not allowed. This time, we entered from the Independence Avenue side, and I knew from the research I had done to prepare our group that the thirty-foot stones that flank the entrance are called The Mountain of Despair. Once inside, you see the huge center piece that has been removed to create the opening, and from it the sculpture of Dr. King emerges. This piece is called The Stone of Hope.

Both are a reference to a line in the I Have a Dream speech, but the symbolic power of those stones standing for what everyone wishing for equal civil rights faced, the mountain of despair, and what they were able to achieve through their hope and perseverance was very moving to me.

And it was not lost on our students, either. When, at the end of the trip,  we gathered to talk about our thoughts and observations, all of them were able to express their admiration and appreciation for those who had moved mountains to allow them to have the opportunities they do.

What Is Up With That?

Picture this:

A teacher is leading a perfectly respectable class discussion. Most, if not all, students seem to be listening and involved-- in fact, several hands are waving, signaling a willingness, if not a downright enthusiasm to participate. The teacher scans the group, wanting to be sure to include everyone, especially those kids who do not always seem engaged. With a smile and a nod, the teacher calls on just such a student, leaning forward in encouragement, eagerly waiting to hear what the usually reticent scholar has to contribute.

"Can I go to the bathroom?"

Kids Today

It was a beautiful day here with blue skies and temps pushing 80 and above, so of course we rolled down the windows and opened the sun roof when we went out to run errands. A little while later, with our mission accomplished and a fresh breeze blowing through the car, we turned up the music and headed home.

As we drove into our complex, we passed a neighbor leaned over to inflate his bike tire. At the sound of our raucous arrival, he straightened, put his hands on his hips, and gave us a disapproving look. His eyes widened a bit; I guess he didn't expect a couple of forty-something ladies in a station wagon to be creating such a disturbance-- especially since he couldn't have been more than 30 himself.

Signs of the Season

I saw my first summer commercial of the year a little while ago, and frankly, two guys sweating on the stoop drinking sweet tea never looked better. It can't be long now.

Hero and Villains

The Tolerance Club showed the movie Afghan Star today at school. Made in 2008, this remarkable documentary recounts the experience of four contestants on the Afghan TV version of American Idol, and it is very informative and revealing about life in Afghanistan since the overthrow of the Taliban regime.

Most interesting to me was the heightened awareness of and concern about the contestants' ethnicity and gender. Having read The Kite Runner, I was fascinated to see both a Pashtun and a Hazara man featured. The main drama however involved the women, for as controversial as singing in public was to this nation emerging from strict sharia law, allowing women to perform was even more divisive.

Each woman approached the storm of moral ambiguity differently. One tried to be as respectful as possible, honoring tradition as closely as she could, and the other was outspoken about her "open-mindedness," pushing the boundaries of propriety in her performances.

To add perspective, both women dressed quite modestly, and both covered their heads, and so the subtlety of their differences was mostly lost on a predominately western audience such as ours. When the one removed her head scarf and danced on stage for her exit number, though, there were many in the group that clapped.

There was at least one who did not. A sixth grade girl, who is Muslim and wears a head-covering herself, left the movie shortly after that scene. "What she did was really bad," she told her friend on the way out. "She showed her hair."

Low Tech Solution

We have a core group of students who come to our weekly writing club, but sometime before spring break, we threatened to rename it the Hanging Out and Talking Club, because so little actual writing was getting done. The kids spent a lot of time on the laptops collaborating to create websites and blogs, but they spent even more time talking about things completely unrelated to writing.

Still, it was hard to determine if we were being overly critical-- maybe this is just how writing looks in the early 21st century?-- but we decided that, at the risk of being too prescriptive, and perhaps even sacrificing the engagement of these students of the new millennium, we were going to try some more structured activities.

Then, as luck would have it, we couldn't get the laptops, and so we were all forced to write the old fashioned way. Oh, there has been some moaning and groaning for sure, but there has also been a lot more words put to paper, and they are still coming every week.

Five Things I'm Thankful for Today

#5. Quinoa

#4. Nikky Finney's poetry
(Not a girl any longer, she is capable of her own knife-work now.)

#3. The web TV show Anyone But Me

#2. Walking my dog

and....

#1. The auto-release on the mammogram machine

Name That Book

My students were doing "speed book talks" today. This is an activity where they prepare a brief presentation about a book they have recently enjoyed and would like to recommend to others, and then kind of on the model of speed dating, rotate through the room in three minute increments to give and receive recommendations. In general it's a fun way to get sixth graders to think, write, and talk about books, plus it's good for their attention spans and it has plenty of movement opportunity built in.

As I circulate, I get a lot of insight into how and what they are thinking, too. For example, I overheard one girl begin the summary of her book this way:

It's about this girl, and instead of going out and partying with her friends, she has to stay in hiding and worry about getting caught by the Germans, so she spends a lot of time writing in her journal.

I confess that at first I was appalled, until I considered that at her age, this student is probably a little closer in mindset to Anne Frank than I. Plus? She obviously read the book.

A Twitter

I had myself all in a state today returning to work after spring break. The students had the day off; it was a teacher work day to allow us to finish our third quarter grading and then turn our attention to the fourth. For me, though, it was grumpy day. All the rest and relaxation of the prior week did not leave me recharged.

In an attempt at distraction, I took a look at my Twitter feed. Oh the news was terrible about education reform, testing, teacher morale, etc. In addition? I realized I probably missed my shot at trying a couple of food trucks I was interested in, at least until summer vacation. I held my head in minor despair for a moment, until I looked at the next tweet. It was from His Holiness the Dalai Lama.

Later when I was telling my friend, Mary, about it, she said, "Did he tell you to calm the hell down?"

"Kind of," I answered.

As you develop a more compassionate attitude, you feel less anxiety, while your determination and self-confidence increase.

Namaste.

Run Joey Run

We always try to see all the movies nominated for the best picture Oscar, but this past year was an exception. Heidi refused to see War Horse, no matter how much I cajoled.

"It's by Steven Spielberg..." I started.

"So is Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom," she countered, and she had me there. I hate that movie.

"I'm sure the horse doesn't die," I told her. "That would never happen."

"I'm sure some horses do die," she answered, and I knew she was right. There was no way a movie with the word "war" in its title would let the other word in its title off the hook. Plus, I had seen Saving Private Ryan, and I knew no one was safe.

So we didn't go, and in the end, as far as awards and such, it wasn't that big a deal, but for a couple of reasons, I still wanted to see it. Number one was that it's based on a book meant for children the age of my students, and a colleague had recommended it to me.

This week we're on spring break, and of the pair of us, I am the earlier riser. In fact, I usually get up a couple of hours before Heidi. Around midweek, I decided to use some of my morning time to download and watch War Horse. Why not? I thought.

Why not, indeed! Just as Heidi predicted, the movie depicts the horrors of poverty and war and the powerlessness of women, children, animals, and of course men, in the face of such brutality. To me it was a picture of great loss with little redemption, and even a full-on Gone with the Wind style sunset ending could not rescue it. There was survival, yes, but I can't imagine how anyone marketed it as a family film.

In some ways? I'd rather see a mad Indian witch doctor pull a beating heart from some poor slave.

On Birdneck Road

Years ago my sister and I went out for dinner at a Mexican restaurant where we ate frequently. It was midweek, and the place was not very busy, but every time someone opened the door to enter or exit an orange flash went by our table followed by the black pants and white shirt of an employee chasing after it. A moment later, a waiter would march back the other way with a young orange cat clinging to his neck. The intruder was tossed outside, only to have the whole scene played over the very next time someone opened the door.

We laughed every time it happened and speculated about the cat's owners. Were they relaxing in their easy chairs unaware of the social life their pet was having? It was closing time when we left, and the persistent orange cat was still making his dash for the kitchen as we were on our way out. I can't remember which of us picked him up first, but he was a heck of a hugger. He sat up straight in your arms, put his paws on either side of your neck, no claws, and gave a little squeeze. When the restaurant employees said that he had been there for a few nights, it was impossible not to take him home.

Oh, we put signs up the next day, but no one ever claimed the adventurous orange kitten, and although we tried finding another home for him, eventually he became our pet, Noah. We wanted to keep him safe and inside, but he would have none of it; that guy was in and out the door the second it was open, and eventually we gave up.

Some might say that we should have known better, especially given the way we found him. It wasn't too long before we discovered that Noah did indeed have an active social life. I'm not sure if we were in our easy chairs or not, but he was going in and out of all sorts of people's houses and even hotel rooms, with mixed results: some called us, some called animal control, and some brought him Christmas presents and other treats.

He sure was a heck of a hugger.

Namesake

I saw a neighbor yesterday when we were both out with our dogs. I had some news about a mutual friend who was expecting; I knew that Laura was at the hospital and the baby would probably be born within the next few hours.

"Do they know what they're having?" my neighbor asked.

"I'm pretty sure they don't," I answered. "It will be a surprise for all of us."

Our dogs played in the bright spring sunshine as we chatted about this and that. She mentioned that her brother and his family were picking up their new puppy that afternoon. "He was born on February 12," she told me, "so I thought they should name him Lincoln."

"That would be a cool name," I nodded.

"Yeah, well my niece didn't like it, so they're naming him Rex," she continued.

"Well, that is a classic," I noted.

"Yep, right up there with Spot," she agreed.

We kept on talking about dog names until it got a little silly (think "missing Link", cleaning up "Lincoln logs" and even Spoticus), and when it was time for me to go I said, "Listen, don't give up on Lincoln-- it's a great name, maybe Laura will pick it for her baby," and we parted ways giggling a little.

Well, I'll be darned. Welcome to the world, Lincoln!

Documentation

Discipline in middle school can be tricky. By age 11, many kids are good at identifying "the line," and they have also mastered tip-toeing up to it without crossing over. Still, there are those incidents that, as minor as they seem on the surface, feel as if they should be referred to an administrator, for documentation if for nothing else. And then, there you are, sitting at your desk, staring at the form, and wondering how best to phrase your report of "the infraction." After all, you don't want anyone to misunderstand the incident, but you do want both the student and staff to be aware of what transpired, so that hopefully it won't happen again.

The fact is though, that kids do silly things, and sometimes it sounds silly when you write them down. As it happens, The Huffington Post has a collection of 27 examples of just why it is important to take care in this area.

Hmmm... Maybe computer-delivered education is the way to go.

Young and Strong

We saw a young dad out bike riding with his two little girls on our walk around Burke Lake today. The first time we passed them, they were taking a little break. Oldest daughter rested her five-year-old self on a convenient bench, unicorn bike helmet just slightly askew. The little one happily waited in the seat on the back of her dad's bike.

We were giving the dogs some water and checking the identity of a bird when they passed us a little while later. The oldest daughter literally fell off her bike when she saw us, but only because she was going so.very.slow.ly. "C'mon," her dad encouraged her, and although she was clearly flagging, they pushed on.

It wasn't too long after we got back on the trail that we passed them again, and this time something big was happening. The unicorn helmet was off and dad was tying the little bike to the back of his own. As usual, the toddler sat placidly while her older sister talked herself through this unfortunate turn of events. "How can this be a loop?" she wondered. "It's too far!" She sat down and held her head as her father worked on.

"I am looking forward to seeing you guys ride past us!" I exclaimed as we walked by. "That is going to be good!"

The young father nodded confidently. "See you then!" he said cheerfully.

It was a good while later as we strode across the dam that had been built to create this man-made lake, swallows swooping all around us in the fresh breeze that seemed to blow just outside the wooded path, that I worried out loud. "I wonder what happened to those guys?"

"Maybe they went the other way?" Heidi suggested, and for a few minutes, I guessed she must have been right until we turned at a sound behind us. It was an amazing site to behold. The little bike was tied to the seat; the unicorn helmet was lashed securely to it; the littlest girl was in that seat, and her sister was perched on the handle bars with the wind in her hair and a huge smile on her face.

"Yay!" I cheered. "I was just worrying about you guys!"

"Thanks!" said Dad. "She is loving this ride!" He shrugged as he pedaled by. "Her mother is not going to be too happy though." And then they were gone.

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Can anyone out there guess who our mystery guest blogger is? (no blindfolds necessary)

There's nothing like a great walk with two dogs happily trotting along with you. Especially when everyone comments about how cute they are and how well they heel and ignore other dogs and squirrels. Me and my favorite dogs are having a super spring break so far. Lots of 4 mile hikes, a few runs and walks in between, maybe even some swimming tomorrow.

The best is when I wake up in the morning and two dogs are staring at me, just waiting for me to tell them what is in store for them today. They have already had their breakfast and are ready for some morning cuddling as we discuss what to do. There's a lot of groaning, yawning and sleepy Snuffleupagus noises as we get ourselves ramped up for the day. What could be better than that?!?

Tonight we're going to play "spa time" and everyone will get their ears cleaned, their coats and tails  brushed out, and something really good smelling sprayed on. To be followed with many treats and tricks of course. We might even play "dress up" and put different hats and scarves on. I can't wait!!!

Daughter of Adam

Today as we walked along the trail running the ridge of some unnamed stream that flows to the Occoquan, my eye was drawn to each small island of green poking up through the brown leaf-litter. Holly, wild ginger, rattle snake plantain, bluet, those I recognized. I listened for the birds calling in the trees, too: robin, pileated woodpecker, common flicker, chickadee, cardinal, tufted titmouse; I heard them.

There's something about being outside that makes me want to name what I see, but that has not always been the case. It wasn't until I was 18 or so and spending time with my aunt, who in her kitchen had a picture window and a bird feeder outside it, that I even thought about all the different birds there were. On the table by that window, my aunt kept an Audubon guide and a pair of binoculars, and by the end of the week, I was kind of hooked.

I still had no interest in plants, though. When naturalist friends would point them out to me, I usually dismissed the identification with a joke. Interrupted fern? They should have called it, "fernus interruptus." Bwa ha ha, right?

I'm not sure when that changed. Maybe when I started hiking with people who knew less than I had learned by poking fun at my botanist friends. All of a sudden? I was the expert, and I realized that I liked knowing what was what, even if I had to find out for myself.

Spring Ephemeral

"Why do we go to a nature center to learn about energy?" the ranger asked the congregation of sixth grade students. And the answer was that energy is everywhere, and nature both uses it and conserves it well. Case in point? Our guide showed us an example of the Virginia Bluebell. This plant is visible for no more than 4-6 weeks in the early spring. It grows and blooms in the sunshine that is only available because the trees have not yet leafed out, then dies back to its roots to wait for the earth to complete another trip around the sun. It is a spring ephemeral.

Years ago I drove from Houston to Austin at this time of year. Courtesy of the Texas Highway Department and Lady Bird Johnson, the hills were literally covered in Blue Bonnets, the showy lupine native to that part of the country. Fiery orange blooms of Indian Paintbrush were scattered across the blanket of blue blossoms, and it was hard to breathe, much less drive, in the presence of such an exhibition. I have never forgotten it.

Today I witnessed the local equivalent of that grand display. As we walked the trail along Bull Run,Virginia Bluebells carpeted the forest floor, rolling blue and spring green as far as I could see, their dainty lavender bells bowed away from the very sun they sought.  I have to admit that I appreciated the beauty of their presence much more knowing as I did that theirs was a limited engagement.

But then, whose isn't?

Two-fer

We like to hike and we like to eat. So naturally, over the years, we have visited many of the parks with nature trails in our area, as we have likewise visited most of the specialty food shops and grocery chains. Of the parks, we have a few favorites, but our choice often depends on the day of the week and the time of day (traffic), plus the season of the year and the weather (bugs).

When it comes to groceries, however, our favorite is always Wegmans. Unfortunately for us, the closest location is over 15 miles away, and with the traffic in this area consistently rated in the worst 5 in the country, we don't get there as often as we'd like, maybe every couple of months.

Today, with spring break spread out against the sky like a patient etherized upon a table, I did a bit of research to find some new trails, perhaps even a little farther from home than usual. Luck was on my side, and I found a nice regional park that combined nature, recreation, and history, but that's not all. The place was five minutes from a Wegmans!

Nice.

The Breaks

Today, the last day before spring break, we walked the entire sixth grade a mile up the road for a morning of ice skating and then lunch at the food court of our local mall. This annual trip is always a big crowd pleaser: it has just the right mix of independence and containment to work for adults and tweens alike. However, the skating is also somewhat perilous-- every year for the last six, there has been at least one significant injury, and today was no exception; unfortunately, a student fractured her ankle.

I believe that sleeping during the day is a waste of good sunlight and will only interfere with sleeping at night, and so for as long as I can remember, I have had a strict no napping policy for myself. I can count the times I've broken my rule on one hand, and usually there was a high fever involved. Today when I got home, though, I kicked off my own spring break with an hour snoozing on the couch.

I may just have to revise that old rule.

Efficiency

People frequently ask me if I get bored teaching the same lesson five times each day. My stock answer is that I try to make it student-centered enough so that even though we do basically the same activities to achieve the same objectives, the difference in individual students makes it different enough to be interesting.

On days when we have field trips, or other activities which I have not planned, and where my role is chaperone instead of instructor, I'm afraid the same can not be said. This week, I heard the same lecture on energy three times, and I confess that by the final rendition my interest was flagging and my patience was thin.

That was until we entered the raptor house. The students were all very engaged by the three birds they had there, and I knew why. They were fascinating to watch, and I could almost tune out the repetitious drone of the very knowledgeable docent as he explained (for me for the third time) how energy efficient they were. Almost... until I had to ask a student to come stand by me rather than pestering the kids around him. "I know why bird poop is white," he told me when he reached my side.

I nodded and tried to model what I wanted him to do by turning my attention toward the ranger.

"It's because..." the student began, but just then the park guy added something new to his presentation.

"Did you know that..."

"...birds pee and poop at the same time!" they finished together.

"My! That is efficient!" I admitted, but quite honestly, the birds were unimpressed.

Parents Say the Darnedest Things

At the beginning of the year we had one parent who swore to us that her daughter was a "pathological liar." Oh, it seemed like she was speaking at least half in jest, and so we teachers laughed it off as yet another early adolescent giving her folks a run for their money.

Even so, as the year has gone on, this particular mom has been very vigilant on checking behind her daughter and following through on missing assignments and even the slightest report of misbehavior. Some might be tempted to dismiss her efforts as over-involved, but I have found her to be a very supportive partner to work with in terms of meeting her daughter's educational needs. And sure, I've seen the kid stretch the truth a bit and try to shirk responsibility for her mistakes, but nothing outside typical sixth grade behavior.

Today, I saw the mom as I was leaving for the day. "Have a great spring break," she called to me from across the parking lot.

"You, too!" I replied with extra cheer, for vacation is only two short days away. "I hear you're going to Hawaii!" I added. "Have a great trip!"

"She is such a liar!" she said with exasperation. "We're going to South Carolina."

I laughed out loud. "Awww! She totally got me!" I told her mom, who nodded sympathetically. "But don't worry," I added, "it won't happen again. I think I finally get it."

Outside Job

"I'd bump that guy off if I thought I could get his job."

So said I on a field trip to our local nature center, as the students dined on the flagstone patio of the main building in the warm sunshine of this cloudless day, spotting deer and all sorts of other wild life, after our tour of the park where the director not only gets to live on the property with access to all the historical nature trails, but his house, which is right next door to a huge vegetable garden and the resident falcon and owl enclosure, is also outfitted with a solar water heater and attic fan.

To her credit, my colleague looked shocked, but I knew she was wondering if there was any way...

Weird Weather

"Ooooh! It looks like snow!" So exclaimed our 10-year-old neighbor today as she spun around, arms out, surrounded by cherry petals swirling in the wind.

Besides the unusual Halloween dusting we got, that is pretty much all the snow we'll see this season, although there is a hard frost predicted for tonight.