The Force of Gratitude

My students were all working industriously on posting profile pictures for our online course when one of them hit a snag. I was busy helping someone else, but fortunately his buddy came to his rescue and helped him problem-solve the issue, so that in short order his smiling face was was right there next to his words on the discussion board. He was delighted and gratefully turned to his friend.

"Thanks! You're a real light saber!" he said and continued on with the assignment.

Generation Why

Have you noticed these lists of "hacks" showing up everywhere? Defined by the Urban Dictionary as "a clever solution to a tricky problem," you can find hacks for your wallet, hacks for your hair, hacks for your workout or relationship or even for your dog. Really, there are hacks for everything right now, including the classroom, but that's another blog post.

Don't get me wrong; some of these ideas are really ingenious, if not genius. Enough so, anyhow, that I take the time to click through a litany or two when they catch my fancy. Just tonight, a former teacher of mine posted a link to "Parenting Hacks for Life Traps." She is a new grandparent, and so I think that explains it. Me? I guess I'm just naturally curious, and so I scrolled through a few mediocre ones, (using lotion bottles as faucet extenders or transforming the old crib into a school desk), a couple of pretty good ones (combining eye dropper and pacifier to administer medicine, upside down crazy straw to prevent sippy cup catastrophe), some really dumb ones (dust mop onesies so your infant will clean the floor as he or she scoots), and some that could go either way (flattened cardboard cartons to transform your stairs into a giant slide?). 

As with many such things on the internet, sometimes the captions are better than the post. That, too, was the case tonight on the getting your kids to do their chores by withholding the wifi password suggestion. The editor commented, I have to say, I'm glad we had dial-up when I was a kid. 

Oh. That explains a lot.

Career Options

I left school after another ten hour day today and headed out to run a few errands. My teeth were grinding a bit on the way out the door, because I couldn't get to a working copy machine to prepare the materials I needed for my lesson tomorrow, but I resolved to go in early to make them; it was my only option.

My first stop was the office supply store to buy some supplementary things for students who do not have them, and then it was on to the grocery store where, at the check out, I saw an unfamiliar magazine. Modern Farmer, issue 06, has a wary cow on the cover and a neon-orange question, So you want to be a farmer? 

Um... Maybe.

Analogy for the Season

"How is school so far? How are the kids?" Kind friends and family ask me this question often at this time of year.

Historically, I have never been much more than lukewarm in my response. "They're okay," I say with varying degrees of enthusiasm, some genuine, some not. 

The truth is that it's hard to say at this point, and it's really not fair to draw any conclusions. If I were to compare them to past years, it wouldn't be to how those other students were in September. No, I remember the other kids as they were in May and June, after we'd worked together for months to forge a community of learning. The time before I knew them and they knew me is just a vague memory.

And so I try to be patient with the new group, and I've decided that a good frame of reference might be the online course I use with my classes. In September, it's bare bones, just a few starter assignments and a couple of basic topics to post in. Every year though, it grows into something similar to the years before, but also unique to the individual creativity, interests and opinions of the kids whose writing shapes it. When I set it up each year, I focus on its potential rather than its emptiness.

And the same should apply to those squirrely strangers filling up the seats in my room and chattering constantly over my directions. They'll come along. (The only question is, When??)

A Cool Glass of Milk

Cool evening air floods through the open window this fourth Monday of September, and darkness without is illuminated by the warm glow of the television within. So many TV options beckon! Certainly viewing habits have changed in the last 45 years-- three networks have been replaced by hundreds; binge watching is a thing, and some cord cutters don't even watch broadcast television at all.

Even so,  premiere week still has a little juice, and so this evening finds us watching the first episode of Gotham, live, not even recorded. Jim Gordon is a rooky cop who catches a big case at the tail end of his shift. Seems the most powerful man in town, Thomas Wayne, and his wife have been killed in a random robbery. Their son, Bruce, witnessed the whole thing, as did a sneaky little pick pocket who runs along the roof tops and steals milk for stray cats. Back at the station? A lab tech, name of Ed Nigma, explains the riddles of the forensic findings of the case.

Gordon's partner doesn't want anything to with either the case or the rookie, but Gordon can see right through him. "You're a cynic, right?" he asks rhetorically before continuing, "a slovenly, lackadaisical cynic."

I think he may be right, but either way? Nice vocabulary, Jim!

Blue Sunday

About a month ago I saw one of those Internet men's aimed at teachers: the month of August is just one long Sunday night, it read. I laughed ruefully, because it was kind of true. No matter what your business, if you're on the clock Monday to Friday, Sunday nights can signal a grinding shift from personal back to professional. Tonight the annual doggie dip followed by a nice family dinner with Bill and Emily stretched out the weekend just a little more and chased those Sunday blues away.

Movie Marketing

At the movies this afternoon we saw an Imax trailer for Ridley Scott's next epic, Exodus, starring Christian Bale as Moses and due out a little later this fall. "That looks pretty good," I whispered to Josh. "Do you want to see it?"

"Yeah!" he answered. "It's like a live action Prince of Egypt!"

That it is, I thought and smiled, remembering the little boy who loved that movie and was all grown up and sitting two seats down from me. That it is. 

And then I thought some more. Josh is in the highly-sought demographic of males 18-24... Batman in Prince of Egypt? 

Ca-ching!

Longest Day of the Year...

... was yesterday, according to the Teachers Almanac. 

Thank goodness today was a Friday!

Fifth Time's a Charm

I had just shut the projector off after my final class presentation at Back-to-school night when a parent I had met last week knocked sheepishly on my open door. " I don't know what happened!" she confessed. She gestured to her husband who was blushing a bit. "We were totally lunchin' and we ended up cutting your class!"

I laughed and shrugged. "No worries," I said, "it's not required."

"Is there any work we can make up?" she asked.

"Sure," I said handing them the course description. "Let me hit the highlights." As I went over my talking points one more time with an audience of two, they were open and generous with their questions and feedback.

"That is so cool," the mom said at the end. "I'm so glad she's in this class!"

And I was so glad I stayed a little later than I planned.

If You Say So

Today my students and I read the poem Knoxville, Tennessee by Nikki Giovanni. It's a good beginning of the year common text because it has so much sensory detail in it. It is also written in a child's voice, and the entire poem is a single sentence. I always like to challenge any student who is willing to try to read it all in one breath. Sixth graders love that kind of thing.

The poem begins with the line, I always like summer best, and the follow up assignment is for them to use the poem as a model and write a tribute to their own favorite season using sensory details they have pulled from their lives. As I circulated through my classes today I noticed that most students agreed with Giovanni and preferred summer, although winter was a close second.

In one class somebody asked me what my favorite season is and I answered that they are all pretty great, but I probably love fall the best. He looked at me shrewdly. "I bet I know why."

I called him on it. "Why?"

"Because that's when kids come back to school! Right?"

Lavender and Old Lace

It's funny.  We spent three days in San Francisco this summer and I had a really good time.

On the last night we ate at a vegan Mexican place in the Mission. It was at the end of a long day where we rented a car, walked the Golden Gate Bridge, visited Muir Woods, Stinson Beach, and drove back to the city on the 101 along the coast. It was around 7 when we got back to town and we were hungry.

Parking was tough on Mission Street, and the neighborhood seemed to change block by block, but eventually we found a place not too too far from the restaurant. Of course there was a wait, and the light had faded from pink to dark purple before we ushered to one end of a communal table. By then, all I wanted was a cold beer, and I ordered an IPA from a brewery with lavender in its name.

Well... that's what I thought, but when I tasted the beer there was an herby floral note that at first I couldn't place. Eventually the obvious penetrated my fatigued brain and I realized I was drinking a lavender IPA. As I was tired and driving, I stopped at one pint, but the essence of it lingered in my  mind and on my palate.

Since I've been home, I have regularly infused my favorite west coast ale with fresh lavender, and every sip reminds me of those three days, and every time the memories of that whole trip get a little sweeter.

Success

Well.

I've done it.

I finally grew a pumpkin in my garden. It has a nice shape and a beautiful color, and I was careful to pluck it from the vine before anything could harm it.

In fact, here's a picture:

AND... Here's another:

Wild Thing

At the end of the trail is a shelter overlooking the golden grasses of the wetland and the river beyond. There is a telescope there as well and over the years, depending on the season, we have seen bald eagles, arctic swans, redwing blackbirds, herons, gulls, and egrets. Today there was a family with two young daughters taking in the view when we arrived. The girls, who looked to be about 3 and 6, chattered happily as they explored.

The oldest was using the telescope with her dad and the younger pointed out spiders and plants to her mom as she waited for her turn with the gadget. When at last she got to step up on the platform, her mother was mindful that we had been waiting a while. "We have to be quick in case these other people want to look, too," she told the little girl.

I saw an expression of disappointment cloud her face. "Oh, don't worry about us," I said. "You were here first-- take all the time you want."

Her mom smiled gratefully as she lifted her daughter up to the eyepiece. "What do you see?" she asked.

"A bear!" the little girl replied without hesitation. Then she looked right at me to check my reaction to her joke.

I did a broad double take and raised my eyebrows high. "A bear?! Well now I do want a look!" I said and stepped toward them.

"Oh," she shrugged, "it's gone."

Bounty

Experienced gardeners will tell you that every year is different; one year may be great for tomatoes, or peppers, or squash, and in the same garden the same crop may struggle the next. Certainly, in my four short seasons, I have found that to be true. For me, this was the summer of tomatoes and butternut squash. I cannot complain about either. The tomatoes we have been eating and canning and fortunately the squash? 

Well, there's butternut chocolate chip ice cream on the menu tonight, and the other 20 will keep until fall nips a little harder at our door.

Aging Workforce

"Happy Friday!" a colleague greeted me as we walked in together. "Are you as wiped as I am?"

I nodded and made a confession. "I know how many more Fridays there are until the end of the year."

"Oooooh," she answered with sympathy, "that's pretty bad."

"It's not like me at all, " I agreed. "But, on the bright side," I continued, "I'm sure I'll forget before October!"

Ichi Ni San Hi Go

A young colleague and I sat with a parent in the library this afternoon waiting for a meeting to begin. The family was military and had recently moved back from Japan. We were there to be sure that the student was receiving the appropriate services after two years away from our district, but the meeting before ours was running late, and so we chatted with the mom about this and that. At one point, the subject of Japanese numbers came up, and my colleague quite capably counted to five. "I don't even know how I learned that," she told us humbly.

I did a quick calculation. "Maybe from watching Pokemon on TV?" I suggested.

She looked at me in exasperation. "That was a little after my time!" she said. But then her brow furrowed. "Well, maybe I did hear it when I was babysitting," she admitted.

Tighten Your Belts, Kids

Word yesterday that, here in the richest county in America, in addition to the continuing paper shortage in our school, the bus allocation for field trips has been cut in half and administration will no longer approve funds for extra buses. We have 17 buses for the whole year-- a generous calculation makes that about 1000 seats for a school of nearly 900. With the capital of the free world and all it has to offer right next door, we're funded for just one field trip per student per year.

These cuts seem drastic and fundamental. School without paper and buses? Could pencils and teachers' dirty looks be far behind?

Postcard from a Soulless Suburb

I've thought of my hometown in many different ways over the last 25 years since we adopted each other. Confusing, hilly, chilly, expensive, desirable, elitist, eclectic, friendly, kooky, and crowded come to mind, but "soulless suburb"?

Nope.

How long were you here, Senator?

The Other Side of the Story

I had a few errands to run this afternoon after school and so I found myself in the office supply store located in our school neighborhood. The parking lot was nearly full and as I walked in I recognized another shopper. Her sons are in 7th and 8th grade now and I taught them both. "I think the whole middle school is here!" she told me as we made our way to the entrance. 

I laughed at the hyperbole but she persisted. "No really. This is my second time here today and the store is full of school shoppers."

Sure enough, right as we entered I was greeted by one of my students. She waved her English binder and five dividers at me with glee. Truth to tell, there were several other familiar faces as well, including one of the employees who was a former student. 

I had only come for post-it notes and to exchange my Soda Stream carbonators, so it wasn't too long before I was in line. Behind me I could hear parents comparing notes about confusing school supply items, and I felt like a bit of an interloper. 

"I just don't under stand why you need both regular colored pencils and twistables," one mom said to her daughter.

I didn't understand either. "That's typical," another mom told her. "Last year we looked all over town for white erasers." She paused incredulously. "Pink ones evidently smear too much."

I just couldn't let that one go. "Those are really good erasers, though," I said.

They were not convinced.

Couldn't Drag Me Away

While I wouldn't say the weather was cool here today, it was much cooler, and so I took the opportunity to use vegetables from the garden to make a vegan chili for dinner. To the peppers, squash, potatoes, tomatoes, and sweet potatoes I grew I added onion, garlic, corn, beans, and barley. It was, for the most part, a New World dish made complete by a few Old World staples.

Years ago I went to an exhibition at the Smithsonian called Seeds of Change. It was marking, but not celebrating, the 500th anniversary of Columbus's exploration of the west, and as such it focused on the exchanges that inevitably occurred between Europe and the Americas. Even though at the time I was nearly 30 years old and pretty well-educated, the premise of the exhibition was completely new to me. I had never considered an Italy without tomatoes or an Ireland without potatoes. Of course, the atrocities committed to ensure a steady supply of sugar and tobacco were no less horrendous once put in historical context, but it did shed some light on the economic power of addiction.

Just as fascinating was the story of the horse. They became extinct in North America around the time that the wooly mammoth did, around 10,000 years ago. European, mostly Spanish, explorers brought horses with them. Escaped or abandoned animals thrived so well in the land that was once their home that soon there were vast herds of them roaming the American plains. But here's an interesting distinction: all of those horses were feral, not wild, because they were descended from domesticated animals.

There is no such thing as a wild horse.

The Witty Will Have Fun

I spent a fair amount of time at the picnic yesterday chatting up some of the new sixth graders. At one point I found myself seated in the shade next to Alondra. "I can't believe you're not running around in the sun," I teased her as she fanned herself.

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that sarcasm?" she asked.

When I was in "teacher school" a couple of decades ago, they warned us never to use sarcasm. We were sitting in desks lined up in rows facing the front of the room when our Foundations of Education instructor, a retired principal with 40 years of experience, told us that sarcasm would at best confuse and at worst humiliate our students. My friend, sitting behind me, whispered "They couldn't possibly understand it, could they?"

Personally, I have found most humor, even gentle sarcasm, to be a helpful tool in creating an engaging class room or even redirecting a student. The rule of thumb might be that as long as they feel in on the joke, the joke's not on them, and we can all laugh together.

So yesterday I looked at Alondra and with an exaggerated shrug shook my head and said, "No! I would never use sarcasm. Would you?"

She waved her hand dismissively and answered, "No! Not me!" Then she looked at me with a grin and asked, "See what I did there?"

Cool It Kids

We had our annual sixth grade picnic today. Traditionally held on the first Friday of the year to celebrate the successful completion of week one of middle school, it's quite an event. In the past, the new sixth graders have had about 90 minutes of recreation time and a lunch of grilled hot dogs, chips, and watermelon, but this year construction on our building put a crimp in our plan. We decided to shorten the time to an hour and just serve the watermelon.

I felt a little sad, but it was fine; as several veteran teachers pointed out to me, the kids don't know what they're missing, and the weather was really, really hot today, so less time in the sun was probably for the best. As I circulated through the groups of students playing and talking, I couldn't help but remember other picnics in other years. The group we had six years ago are seniors in high school now, and the day of their picnic was just as hot as today.

Back then the turf soccer field we have now was a crushed gravel pitch that had to be watered regularly to keep it playable. There were timed sprinklers all around the perimeter, and right at the end of the picnic they all came on. The students let out a collective cheer and flooded on to the field. The teachers let out a collective gasp and tried to wave them all away, but it was no use. In the end it was so hot it didn't matter-- everyone cooled off AND dried off by the time we had to go back inside, and as a group they were exhilarated.

I walked back in with a trio of girls, still chattering about the dousing. "That was awesome! Did you guys plan this special for us?" they asked.

I laughed and said nothing, because in a way? I wished we had.

Security Level Strong

Life in our contemporary culture can be full of aggravation, and coping successfully is all about how you deal with it. You can always minimize your grievances by comparing them to even worse things, or distract yourself by focusing on more pleasant things, or slog through annoyances with the attitude that they are relatively fleeting. I guess I personally mix and match these strategies, depending on how irritated I am. As a rule, I try my best not to lash out at other people when I am frustrated, but lately I have found a satisfying outlet for my ire. I simply allow my password to speak for me. My current favorite?  thisisbullshit.

It works for me.

In Loco Parentis-hood

Hey guys hope the kids are behaving and all is well, the text started.

Well, isn't that nice, I thought. Then, Hmm, maybe a little TOO nice.

Just wanted to check to see if I could have my friend from home visit and stay with us? I wanted to show him around, it continued.

Sure, I texted back. When?

Later tonight I think. He is driving over.

All righty then.

Surpassing Expectations

Today we did an activity that allowed the students to pair up a few times and share their ideas. As always, I instructed them to have a friendly conversation first. "Ask your partner how the first day of school has been," I suggested.

As usual, I participated, too, and so I got to talk to many kids and check in personally about how the day was going. Of course, they got to check in with me, too, and I gave them a straight answer. "I was a little nervous this morning," I started, "because, let's be honest, I don't know you guys." Here, most kids' eyes widened a bit. "But," I continued, looking around at all those industrious and engaged students, "it has been great! I think we're going to have a good year."

Nods, all around.

Seventy-Four Days Later

When one countdown ends, another one begins, but as the new school year starts, let's not count the days, let's make the days count.

Or something.

Crying's Not for Us

It seemed like such a good idea. On the last Sunday of a summer where the weather has been nothing short of fabulous, a trip to a not-so-far-away national park for a moderate hike to the largest waterfall in Maryland, which also happens to be in the same park where my mom went to summer camp 66 years ago?

It was such a no brainer that Josh got up early and Riley and Seiyoung drove in the opposite direction of their final destination so that we could all enjoy the outing together. We had sandwiches and dogs and we gleefully watched the car thermometer plunge from 93 to 91 to 87, 85, 83 as we traveled first north, and then up the mountain. It was only a little sticky as we headed into the woods and began our climb.

The tall trees kept it shady, and we hardly noticed the gathering clouds. The patter of drops on the leaves high above our heads was not in the least alarming; the canopy kept us mostly dry, but as we continued steadily on so did the rain, and soon we found ourselves stopped and huddled near the trunks of trees, trying to stay dry.

The trail was soon a wash, and we reluctantly decided to turn around. As impossible as it seemed, it poured ever harder as we made our way back to the car.  Now the saturated forest offered us no shelter and soon we were completely drenched ourselves, literally dripping.

In a you-can't-make-this-up twist, the rain let up the last hundred yards to the trail head, and we emerged from the woods into brilliant sunshine, wet, really wet, incredulously wet, but not unhappy in the least.

Let's Get this Party Started

Back when I started teaching, the pre-service week for teachers was only four days. We reported to school on the Monday before Labor Day, had a few meetings, worked in our classrooms, and went home Thursday afternoon for a four day weekend. After the intensity of preparing for the new year, waiting four more days seemed agonizing.  And so it continues to this day. Although Friday off is long gone, that nervous anticipation lingers, and all day long I've been restless and at loose ends.  In a few days the voices of children will illuminate my days, but for now everything seems drained of the bright summer cheer it radiated just last week. 

Mastery Objective

WHO:      I will
WHAT:    let go of all the frustrations of the day
DO:          by spending the evening with people I love
HOW:      and then sleeping soundly through the night.

New Kid in Town

He swaggered down the school hallway with a faux hawk and shades, confidently directing his sister to where she might find the answers she was seeking."Let's do this!"

There's talk on the street; it sounds so familiar

I long ago gave up trying to engineer which kids would and wouldn't be on me team at school. It's human nature, I think, to want to exercise control when it is possible, and there were always all sorts of brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, and nephews and nieces of all sorts of folks that I thought would or would not make for a better year.

Great expectations, everybody's watching you

Sometimes I was right and sometimes I was disappointed, and a few years ago I realized that perhaps it would be best if I left it all up to chance. So this year when the new students and their families came for our annual sixth grade open house there were definitely a few familiar faces I was a little sorry to see heading toward one of the other teams, but there were a lot of fresh faces I enjoyed meeting, too.

People you meet, they all seem to know you

 One was Leslie, a quiet girl who seemed understandably anxious about middle school. I did my best to put her at ease with a friendly smile and a few wise cracks, but it was her younger brother who was my best audience. "I love this place!" he gushed. "I'm in fourth grade, but I can't wait to come here!"

"Well, I can't wait til you get here!" I said.

"And I want you for my teacher," he told me.

I just might have to make an exception to that hands-off rule.

Johnny come lately, the new kid in town
Everybody loves you, so don't let them down

Come and Get Your Love

Hey! What's the matter with your head?

Putting one's classroom together again after dismantling it a couple  months back is not hard, exactly, but it can be time consuming. I'm not much of a linear thinker myself, and so all the little chores distract me, especially since my mind is on the million other things I need to get done by the end of the week.

Hey, what's the matter with your mind and all your sighin?

This morning, after I hung a few things on my wall I paused to take a picture of my newest piece of art, a framed print that a friend of mine gave me from her office when she retired last June. I meant to post it on Facebook so that she could see how nice it looked in my room, but that particular social media is blocked on the school network, so after a couple of tries I set my iPad aside and continued working.

Find it, find it, c'mon and find it

I had completely forgotten all about the picture when I got home tonight, but it was out there on it's own after all. My friend recognized her print right away, but below it hung the plaque I got for being teacher of the year back in 2006, and that got a few comments from current colleagues-- snarky at first, but genuinely complimentary in the end.

Rockin Robin

Tweedily deedily dee, tweedily deedily dee

In a year of many new technology initiatives for our school system, there is one that seems to have been embraced whole-heartedly by senior administration.

He rocks in the tree tops all day long

It's not iPads for students,

Hoppin and boppin and a-singin his song

and it's not getting the bugs out of our student information system.

All the little birdies on J-bird Street

Someone at the Ed Center seems to think that 140 characters is the perfect way to connect with students, educators, and families alike.

Love to hear the robin go tweet tweet tweet

#APSback2school

If I Could Save Time in a Bottle

The first thing that I'd like to do

Yesterday, I spent the last day of my summer vacation canning tomatoes and making pickles and kimchi.

Is to save every day 'til eternity passes away

Then Heidi, Josh and I went to Bill and Emily's house for a family dinner with them and Riley and Treat. There was grilled steak and succotash, all from the farmers market, with home made ice cream sandwiches for dessert. We stayed at the table talking long after we all should have been preparing to go to work and school this morning.

But there never seems to be enough time to do the things we want to do once we find them

At least, if summer can't last forever, we gave it a lovely send off.

Ground Control to Major Tom

Commencing count down, engines on.

We spent a lot of time at my leadership team meeting last week revising the vision and mission statements for our school. There was some confusion between the two; in general it was agreed that cultivating productive global citizens was a goal of our school, but whether it was the mission or the vision seemed hard to decide.

Check ignition and may God's love be with you.

At one point, a young teacher new to our team this year who had been silent all day spoke up. He'd been researching the terms on his iPad as we talked, and he volunteered that as he understood it, a vision remained static, but a mission was more short-term, and could and should change once it was accomplished. For example, you could say NASA's mission was originally to put a man in earth-orbit, and then President Kennedy changed it to landing a man on the moon. There were nods around the table as he spoke. This seemed to make sense.

I'm floating in a most peculiar way, and the stars look very different today.

"So, isn't our mission to help students achieve?" he continued. "And won't we know it's accomplished when we see their test scores?"

Planet Earth is blue, and there's nothing I can do.

Second Helping

We spent a couple of the precious hours of this last weekend of summer break at the movies this afternoon. In a fitting, book-end kind of a choice we saw Guardians of the Galaxy, the latest offering from the Marvel Universe. While I am not a dedicated fan of the comics I do like the movies, but there was actually a lengthy period of time this summer when I thought GotG looked too stupid to spend money on. When it opened a few weeks ago, I was quite shocked by the positive reviews which were only confirmed by my nephew, Treat.

Since then it's been on the list and a rainy day like this one was the perfect opportunity to go. It was pretty good-- to me more funny than gripping or exciting. One thing I admire about the Marvel movies is the complex canon that they pre-suppose and add to, but for the same reason, in every one of them I see I sense that there is more to it than I understand. Oh, each movie can be enjoyed on a superficial level as well, but I always know I'm missing something, and so the minute I get a chance I hit the internet to research all the winks and nudges.

I guess you could think of that as double duty, but in my mind?

It just adds to the fun.

A Blog Odyssey

People who know me know I'm a counter-- I like numbers. I think that's why it's easy for me to remember dates and years. I know all my friends' birthdays, their ages, the years they started work, how old their children are, etc.

But while I am a collector of figures, I am not a fan of "big data". I know that there are enough numbers out there to tell any story we want to, probably because I count other things as well-- pages my students read each week, hours spent in meetings, snow days used and unused in a year, miles in a hike, the elevation of the mountain we climbed, calories burned by walking the dog, and so forth. It's all interesting, and there are some meaningful patterns, but I don't fool myself that they are absolute or even objective.

Certainly you won't be surprised when I tell you that I have been counting blog entries as well. Oh, I have mentioned milestones here in the past, and I was well aware that there was a big one coming up. But I've been so absorbed this week in getting ready to go back to school and helping Josh do the same that p2k totally slipped my mind.

So, this is post 2001, just another statistic for anyone keeping track.

Three-Quarters Baked

I've met a lot of college kids over the past couple of days, and the more time I spent with some of them, the more I could see the former sixth grader in them. I felt right at home.

Often these days when I meet young people I figure out what year they started middle school, and then I mentally match them up with the kids I knew who are the same age. More often than not I don't get to see how my professional efforts are paying off down the line, and so in addition to being a fun exercise it allows me to imagine how my former students might be faring.

Today I'd like to think that many many of the kids who sat in my classroom back in September 2007 nervously anticipating the next stage of their school career are, just like all the kids I've met this week, finding out how amazing college can be and preparing for four fun years of learning and growing.

Getting There

Although I pride myself on being able to successfully navigate all the cities I have visited, I have not regularly taken a bus since I was in high school. These days, my main impression of a metro bus is something not to get stuck behind when driving-- there are soooo many stops!

But Josh is going to have to rely on public transportation to get him to and from his classes downtown, so today Heidi, he, and I traveled by bus and subway to the campus of GW University for his freshman orientation. As much time as he's spent here, he doesn't really know his way around, and although that will change in a hurry, we thought it would be a good idea to give it a try before classes start. 

I did plenty of research in advance and found the best routes and connections for our commute. Last evening, we all walked up the hill and scoped out the closest bus stops in our neighborhood. As we circled the blocks, all of a sudden it didn't seem like there were too many at all, and whether they were uphill or down, shaded or not, seemed very relevant. Already I had a new appreciation for commuter conveniences.

This morning, Smartrip cards at the ready, we headed out, timing our walk to the bus stop. I'll admit to a bit of a thrill when I saw that bright red metro bus turn the corner and roll our way. We boarded the bus and sat near the front, awash in yellowish fluorescent light. As we bumped through the neighborhood and onto the interstate, familiar sights seemed slightly different viewed from the wide tinted windows. I was a rider now.

In 8 minutes, as scheduled, we were at the Pentagon where we walked a few yards down to the metro. The Blue Line came in less than 10 minutes, and we emerged from Foggy Bottom station 8 minutes after that. Door to door, the whole trip took less than 45 minutes and cost about 2 bucks each.

There was a point in our journey, when standing on the metro platform, that I looked at Heidi and Josh and considered how far the three of us have traveled together over the years. I knew neither one of them had any clue where we were going once we got to the top of the escalator and they were not concerned in the least. They trust me to get us where we're going, and I felt proud.

Maybe a little too proud. As we waited, I rustled my itineraries and timetables officiously. "Good thing you guys have me," I said. Heidi raised her eye brows. I shrugged. "I mean, because I know where we're going and all."

"Really?" she said. "I think it would be easy enough to ask someone on the street if I needed to."

I gasped. Then I laughed. Such an approach would never occur to me, but she was right, of course. It would probably be very effective, maybe even as good as knowing just what to do ahead of time.

"What's so funny?" Josh asked. 

"Heidi and I are very different, but very complimentary," I told him, and relayed the whole exchange. "Take the best from each of us, and you'll do fine!"

Second Generation

To me one of the benefits of being a team leader and going in early for that meeting has always been getting a preview peak at the team list of new kids. After 21 years in the county both as a teacher and a resident, I've forged quite a few connections, and it's always interesting to see whose brother, sister, cousin, son, daughter, or grandchild might be in my class.

This year did not disappoint. As I was paging through the 120 info cards, I stopped on one. In retrospect, I can't say exactly what it was that caught my attention, but I spoke his name out loud, and the director of counseling who was sitting next to me, said, "Oh yeah, he's a cutie and his mom went here."

"What was her name?" I asked, and a few minutes later I discovered that for the first time ever I have the child of a former student.

I think they should have a name for that-- maybe, like the aunt or uncle, we could be great teachers, or better yet? Grand teachers. 

Dance Card

And just like that, it happens. After a fun day at the museums with Michelle and the kids, I have an all day meeting tomorrow at school, freshman orientation with Josh on Wednesday,  and suddenly the days seem so full that it's hard to fit everything in. Good-bye summer vacation.

He Called It

After dinner tonight Josh sat at the table and finished writing his thank you notes for the graduation gifts he received. His mom is only staying until tomorrow, and she made him promise to do this before she leaves so she can mail them off from home. As he worked, Heidi, Michelle, and I gabbed away.

"Finished," he announced and handed me a white envelope. I read the note and laughed, and then I winked at him and held up the card to show Heidi. It's a nice custom design with pictures of Josh and some if his art work.

"What do you want to do with this?" I asked her.

"I want to put it right up on the refrigerator!" she said.

Josh and I laughed. "What am I missing?" Heidi frowned until she opened the card and read it, then she laughed, too.

Following the sincere message of thanks, it said,  You'll probably do something cheesy like put this card on the refrigerator. Love, your new roommate Josh.

Eye of the Beholder

Considering refinancing the place, we had an appraiser come by today. Of course such a visitor forces you to see your home through someone else's eyes, all the flaws as well as all the improvements seem magnified in the moment.

The gentleman who assessed our condo was very friendly, professional, and courteous. He did have a bit of a habit of talking out loud as he made his way through the house, some of his comments directed to us, some not. He made sure to be complimentary of the upgrades and improvements we have made, but not overly so.

"I really like your kitchen," he said. "Nice cabinets! I see you kept the lighting, though." His remark was made in the most neutral of tones, but all I can think about since he's left is how to update those fluorescent lamps.

Simplifying

Realization of the month: 

We've been filling this place up for fifteen years...

Time to start drawing down.

Inquiring Minds

We had a couple of our kid friends over to the house to do a little tie-dying last week. Heidi has been looking after 8 year-old Savannah and 5-year-old Chase practically since they were born, back when their family lived in the next courtyard over from us.

A couple of years ago, right before their little brother Lincoln joined the family, they bought a house a little less than a mile away. Both older kids are in school, too, so we don't see them quite as often. Even so, summer projects accompanied by a trip to the pool are always fun.

Heidi and I like to think we have the tie-dying thing down, and it was all set up when the kids arrived, but there was a point before we began that Heidi and Savannah ran upstairs for something. Eying the work-in-progress that is currently our guest room, soon to be Josh's room, Savannah gasped. "That place is a wreck!" she said. "Who sleeps there? You or Tracey?"

"Nobody," Heidi told her. "We both sleep in the other room. We're getting that one ready for Josh."

Mind you, I had no knowledge of this conversation when a little while later, Savannah and I were cleaning up in the kitchen. "So, are you two married?" she asked me, "Or do you just sleep together?"

Calendar Girl

Running errands today I happened to see an academic year 14-15 monthly calendar for sale. For me, that particular school supply happens to be the first and most important thing I purchase each year, so of course I bought it.

Now, even though the kids don't report for nearly three weeks, and the first meeting of the year isn't for days, thanks to online resources and what-not, my calendar is good to go: it has the bare bones of the year all filled in the appropriate squares, and these events, joined by notations of field trips, birthdays, meetings, and tests will be the scaffolding of an entire school year.

I'll definitely admit to a bit of a thrill when I added those first items-- a new year is always an opportunity and a clean slate, but as I continued I quite merrily x-ed out first Thanksgiving and then Winter Break. After that there was a holiday, workday, holiday, conferences, Spring Break, workday, and the next thing you know, it was Memorial Day, promotion, and the last day of school!

Summer 2015 here we come!

Ambulance Chaser

And now news that Lauren Bacall has passed away. She, too, played a memorable role in my teenaged years. In the summer of '79 I think everyone in my family read her autobiography By Myself. It had recently been released in paperback and was a perfect poolside book detailing her hardscrabble early years, her lucky breaks in modeling, her inexorable romance with Bogart, the tragedy of his death, and her determination to go on in the face of her loss.

Even so, the book lost some serious steam after Bogie died, but I have been an admirer of Lauren Bacall since, albeit at a distance; perhaps it was her grit and growl that made it a bit uncomfortable to get too close. I do feel a loss tonight at hearing the news of her passing, and it occurs to me that I may have reached that certain age where losing those of personal note becomes much less irregular.

But no less sad.

Shazbot

For American teenagers living in Saudi Arabia in the 70s, the time spent back in the states during the summer was priceless for keeping up with pop culture. Even the re-runs of popular shows were new to us, and I distinctly remember catching up on Happy Days one humid summer night.

The plot revolved around Richie and a space alien who tried to collect him as a specimen to bring back to his planet Ork. I liked Happy Days, but I loved Mork-- that alien was hilarious in such a hyperkinetic way that we were still giggling about it a few days later.

Imagine my surprise and delight when I returned to the US for college and found that there was a whole show about Mork from Ork. Who could fail to love Robin Williams, so quirky, so manic? When I started teaching, his example helped me to understand the positive, creative side of ADHD.

Later, as his career waned and waxed and waned again, as frequently happens with the brightest performers, I understood that he was probably struggling with much more, and tonight as I began a blog entry about something else all together I heard the breaking news that Robin Williams was dead, and although the family is not disclosing particulars, they are saying he has struggled greatly with depression, especially of late. I wanted a good Mork quote to end this post, and when I searched, I found the following exchange between Mork and his "handler" Orson:

Orson: The report, Mork.
Mork: This week I discovered a terrible disease called loneliness.
Orson: Do many people on Earth suffer from this disease?
Mork: Oh yes sir, and how they suffer. One man I know suffers so much he has to take a medication called bourbon, even that doesn't help very much because then he can hear paint dry.
Orson: Does bed rest help?
Mork: No because I've heard that sleeping alone is part of the problem. You see, Orson, loneliness is a disease of the spirit. People who have it think that no one cares about them.
Orson: Do you have any idea why?
Mork: Yes sir you can count on me. You see, when children are young, they're told not to talk to strangers. When they go to school, they're told not to talk to the person next to them. Finally when they're very old, they're told not to talk to themselves, who's left?
Orson: Are you saying Earthlings make each other lonely?
Mork: No sir I'm saying just the opposite. They make themeslves lonely, they're so busy looking out for number one that there's not enough room for two.
Orson: It's too bad everybody down there can't get together and find a cure.
Mork: Here's the paradox sir because if they did get together, they wouldn't need one. Isn't that zenlack?

Yeah, that's totally zenlack.

Sweet Sorrow

Oy!

The great clean-out continues. Not simply content (or let's be honest, able) to empty the guest room for Josh's impending residence, our purge has expanded to every room in the house including the attic. Last spring I hoped to rid our home of forty bags in forty days, but friends it's going to be more like forty in fourteen, or fifty in ten now that the ball's rolling.

In general, my job has been paper and electronics. I've recycled hundreds of paperback books and filled several boxes to take to shred. It turns out I really don't need my pay stubs from 1999, or much else of the hundred pounds or so of paper that's all set to go. AND, I've finally come to terms with giving up my iBook lap top. Apple is kind enough to contract with a company who will recycle them for free, but first I must wipe the hard drive. With that in mind, I booted it up for one last time this afternoon.

It's only been a few years since our iPad/desktop combo has pretty much made that brushed stainless steel brick obsolete, but I smiled at the desktop photo of the Chesapeake Bay beach in November where Heidi and I stayed ten years ago, and there was a certain reflexive familiarity when my fingers brushed that cool metal touchpad. Scanning through the files to find what I wanted to keep was like opening a time capsule, and when I was distracted for a second, the screen saver started spinning an array of pictures I haven't looked at for years. It was an album of wonderful times in beautiful places with people we love.

Oh, I'll be able to put everything I want on a single flash drive (that's how dated it is), but today I felt a direct connection with the me who used to spend so much screen time staring at that 12 inch display-- the person who wrote every piece for the Northern Virginia Writing Project Summer Institute there, and most of my National Board entries. The online course I use with my students, Write Here Write Now, was largely created with that laptop, and the very first post of this blog was composed on its keyboard.

I know it's only a machine, and one that has been left behind by technological innovation, but I?

I am only human, and parting with this particular object makes me a little sad.

Good Reflexes

I was browsing my Twitter feed this evening when something very unexpected happened. I saw a tweet by Kelly Gallagher that actually made me want to go back to school. It was nothing meant to be inspirational, but simply a practical resolution grounded in a philosophy I happen to share. Whoa! As a result, I read a few articles, pinned a few links, and jotted down several ideas for the upcoming year.

I guess you really can't take the classroom out of the teacher.

Old-fashioned Work Ethic

My friend Mary came by today to borrow the hand sander. Seems as if she has a couple of Adirondack chairs in need of a new paint job, too. "That's fun!" I said cheerily.

"I'm not sure if I would call it 'fun'," she told me, "but it has to be done." She nodded out to the deck. "Yours look pretty good-- do you have any advice?"

I laughed because from that distance, they do look pretty good; the drips and dings and rough patches aren't noticeable at all. "Remember they're 'hand-painted'," I answered. "The imperfections are part of the charm!"