Every once in a while, and more frequently the older I get, I realize that certain ships have definitely sailed for me, never to return to port. I say it today because, since the weather was horrible, and I'm so busy doing a kazillion things at school, I didn't vote in the primary that was held in our state. I feel a sense of failure, as this was not a deliberate choice, but much more of the lame "my life got in the way of my democracy" kind of thinking, but there you have it; the polls are closed and my vote was not cast. So, as I was cooking dinner after getting home from school at 6:30, I was feeling a little guilty and beating myself up about it, and this thought actually entered my mind: They can use this against me if I ever run for office.
I'll never forget the day I realized that I would never be Miss America. I was 26 years old, and although I had never entered a pageant in my life, mostly because I had no interest in them, I felt a sense of loss when I understood that particular certainty of my future. Watching Miss America was a family thing for us; we liked the pageantry, and we liked the prediction-- we sat there with paper, pencil and popcorn, poised as those 51 girls walked across the stage to pick our top ten based solely on their appearance and self-introductions. We kept score until the end, too, of what, I'm not sure now.
And so it was on one such evening in September, when I sat in my living room washed in the violet light of the television and upholding the family tradition, that it became clear to me that, No, Tracey, anything cannot happen. You will never go to Atlantic City and compete in a swim suit for this sash and crown, much less win it.
Since then, I've given up on a medical career and one in law as well. And now, today, based on my voting record, I probably won't hold public office, either. Dang. Another door closes.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
SOLSC Day 100
Yep. It's true. A hundred days. In a row.
I started this challenge sitting by the fire on a freezing day when we were preparing for a snow storm. Today it's high 80's with a chance of thunderstorms, but there's a fire going in the kettle grill, and I'm on my way out to flip some local, free-range, grass-fed burgers. I just finished listening to Barbara Kingsolver read her book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. (Tell me you weren't moved just a little when the second generation of turkeys hatched.) With a bit over a week left of school, I'm doing my best to cope with the hectic pace of the end-of-the-year AND the transition to summer, but it's not my strength. I did get to spend a little planning time today with my favorite collaborating teacher, and that was awesome; we're a good team. As for this evening, though, I'm just going to call it a hundred and log out until tomorrow.
I started this challenge sitting by the fire on a freezing day when we were preparing for a snow storm. Today it's high 80's with a chance of thunderstorms, but there's a fire going in the kettle grill, and I'm on my way out to flip some local, free-range, grass-fed burgers. I just finished listening to Barbara Kingsolver read her book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. (Tell me you weren't moved just a little when the second generation of turkeys hatched.) With a bit over a week left of school, I'm doing my best to cope with the hectic pace of the end-of-the-year AND the transition to summer, but it's not my strength. I did get to spend a little planning time today with my favorite collaborating teacher, and that was awesome; we're a good team. As for this evening, though, I'm just going to call it a hundred and log out until tomorrow.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
The Dream of a Common Language
A few years ago I was at a family gathering. My nephews were 6 and 9 at the time, and they were off in the corner playing some color version of Pokemon on their Gameboys. There was a younger, distant cousin who had never met the boys before, but he was drawn to them and stood close by listening intently to the patter of their conversation as each not only played his own game, but also gave a running overview of the action to his brother, in addition to receiving and offering strategic advice in turn.
Impressed, the little boy ran off to find his mother. "Mommy," he asked, "what language do those kids speak?"
"They speak English, Honey," she told him, but he did not look convinced.
"What language do we speak?" he asked her.
"We speak English, too," she told him.
"It doesn't seem like English to me," he said.
Last week, one of my students turned in a writing piece called, War of Epic Rune and I. It had a pretty gripping lead: The first time we fought, he was a cheap shooter. As I read on, though, I discovered that I was not the intended audience of this piece. I couldn't have been, because I had no idea what was going on.
He used dds-ags glitch. He killed me. I stocked up on my pk stuff! I went into the wilderness, I attacked him! 26, 25, he ate healed 22. I hit two more 27's, and I took out my dds. I specialed him (it's a 2 time attack). Before I attacked I switched to ags (You can only attack 1 time with it because it's so high damaging!) Then my dds spec came. I had age on, so then I hit- bang bang! 60 23! He died! Then I was standing there healed myself. He came back with with pk-ing stuff and said, "Glitcher,"and attacked me. I said back, "You too...." Then we fought. I had two HP (heart points hit points). Until I died I was going to eat, but Epic had like 15 HP, so I didn't and attacked. I hit 18! I won again !
I felt a little dazed sitting there at my desk trying to fathom this incomprehensible narrative. It was disorienting to know most of the vocabulary but have no clue about the rest. I tried to use context, but I didn't have nearly enough background information to be successful. I laughed because it was ridiculously hard. I also understood then that many of my students probably have this experience regularly. I couldn't have asked for a better simulation of what a struggling reader goes through when confronted with a text that is too difficult.
It doesn't seem like English to me, I thought, and I photocopied War of Epic Rune and I and tucked it into my writers notebook so that I can remember what that feels like.
Impressed, the little boy ran off to find his mother. "Mommy," he asked, "what language do those kids speak?"
"They speak English, Honey," she told him, but he did not look convinced.
"What language do we speak?" he asked her.
"We speak English, too," she told him.
"It doesn't seem like English to me," he said.
Last week, one of my students turned in a writing piece called, War of Epic Rune and I. It had a pretty gripping lead: The first time we fought, he was a cheap shooter. As I read on, though, I discovered that I was not the intended audience of this piece. I couldn't have been, because I had no idea what was going on.
He used dds-ags glitch. He killed me. I stocked up on my pk stuff! I went into the wilderness, I attacked him! 26, 25, he ate healed 22. I hit two more 27's, and I took out my dds. I specialed him (it's a 2 time attack). Before I attacked I switched to ags (You can only attack 1 time with it because it's so high damaging!) Then my dds spec came. I had age on, so then I hit- bang bang! 60 23! He died! Then I was standing there healed myself. He came back with with pk-ing stuff and said, "Glitcher,"and attacked me. I said back, "You too...." Then we fought. I had two HP (heart points hit points). Until I died I was going to eat, but Epic had like 15 HP, so I didn't and attacked. I hit 18! I won again !
I felt a little dazed sitting there at my desk trying to fathom this incomprehensible narrative. It was disorienting to know most of the vocabulary but have no clue about the rest. I tried to use context, but I didn't have nearly enough background information to be successful. I laughed because it was ridiculously hard. I also understood then that many of my students probably have this experience regularly. I couldn't have asked for a better simulation of what a struggling reader goes through when confronted with a text that is too difficult.
It doesn't seem like English to me, I thought, and I photocopied War of Epic Rune and I and tucked it into my writers notebook so that I can remember what that feels like.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
NO Whining
I felt bad after I posted yesterday. I like to think that it's not really "me" to get upset about little things like that. (Except when it is, eh?) Honestly? I'm sure the field trip will work out fine: everyone will have a good time, and in retrospect it will all have been worth it. I guess that sometimes it's hard to find that balance between planning for the future, living in the moment, and reflecting on the past. What can you do, though?
Just keep practicing.
Just keep practicing.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Travel Agency 101
Or: Things They Don't Teach You in Grad School
Every year in June our sixth grade team takes a trip to go dolphin watching. It's about three hours away, so we charter buses, spend a couple of hours at the beach, and then board a really big boat for a 2-hour cruise skirting the capes of Delaware in search of marine mammals. Next it's back on the bus, and a few hours later we're home. It's usually a nice day and a pleasant way to end the year. It also offers experiences that many of our students have never had: the beach, the boat, or both.
It's my job to organize this trip, and over the years it has gotten easier, but even so, every year there seems to be a new set of complications. Part of the challenge of planning it has to do with pricing. Your typical charter bus has 55 seats, and the boat charter is based on a minimum of 100 passengers. Depending on the year, we have had anywhere from 80-100 students, plus 8 teachers. Although it is always our goal, we have never had 100% of the students participate on the trip. The trick then becomes estimating the number of students and chaperones who will pay to come and pricing it accordingly. We have to break even... there's no reserve fund to cover it if we don't. BUT, we know that some kids won't be able to afford the trip, and so we solicit donations for scholarships, and we know that every passenger over that original estimate will also subsidize a student whose family can't afford the whole cost.
Some years I'm sweating it out because we haven't got that minimum number of people. Last year, I accepted a check and permission slip on the morning of the trip, because I knew it would get us out of the red. (Plus, the kid wanted to go... I have a hard time saying no to that after we went to all the trouble to plan such a great trip.) This year it's the opposite; we're short on seats, and I've been in the difficult position of telling some parents who have paid to go that, as much as we appreciate the support, we need their seat for a student. This new situation is just as stressful as it was to worry about staying out of debt in the past. Despite the refund, there have been some unhappy folks.
I received an e-mail this afternoon from just such a parent. It read in part:
I worked for (another school system) for 6 years and never seen a situation like a school system doesn't have a plan for their trip. It is not I don't believe what the excuse for (my son's) mom involvement but it's hard to believe. I expect to be treated fair, though this is a tough time. I hope your school and you understand my pain. My son was talking about the trip and now he can't go.
He continued:
Nothing personal, I feel like very much insulted and humiliated but what I can do? nothing. In my culture teacher is consider to be the highest respected person...teacher is the designer of child's life path. You are all same respected force of educator. But This is what I believe. Something totally wrong in this trip turmoil.
I regret the misunderstanding with this family, but I stand by our goal to have as many students participate as possible, and does anyone appreciate how above and beyond our job description this whole thing is? Chalk it up to end-of-the-year fatigue, but I am officially aggravated.
Every year in June our sixth grade team takes a trip to go dolphin watching. It's about three hours away, so we charter buses, spend a couple of hours at the beach, and then board a really big boat for a 2-hour cruise skirting the capes of Delaware in search of marine mammals. Next it's back on the bus, and a few hours later we're home. It's usually a nice day and a pleasant way to end the year. It also offers experiences that many of our students have never had: the beach, the boat, or both.
It's my job to organize this trip, and over the years it has gotten easier, but even so, every year there seems to be a new set of complications. Part of the challenge of planning it has to do with pricing. Your typical charter bus has 55 seats, and the boat charter is based on a minimum of 100 passengers. Depending on the year, we have had anywhere from 80-100 students, plus 8 teachers. Although it is always our goal, we have never had 100% of the students participate on the trip. The trick then becomes estimating the number of students and chaperones who will pay to come and pricing it accordingly. We have to break even... there's no reserve fund to cover it if we don't. BUT, we know that some kids won't be able to afford the trip, and so we solicit donations for scholarships, and we know that every passenger over that original estimate will also subsidize a student whose family can't afford the whole cost.
Some years I'm sweating it out because we haven't got that minimum number of people. Last year, I accepted a check and permission slip on the morning of the trip, because I knew it would get us out of the red. (Plus, the kid wanted to go... I have a hard time saying no to that after we went to all the trouble to plan such a great trip.) This year it's the opposite; we're short on seats, and I've been in the difficult position of telling some parents who have paid to go that, as much as we appreciate the support, we need their seat for a student. This new situation is just as stressful as it was to worry about staying out of debt in the past. Despite the refund, there have been some unhappy folks.
I received an e-mail this afternoon from just such a parent. It read in part:
I worked for (another school system) for 6 years and never seen a situation like a school system doesn't have a plan for their trip. It is not I don't believe what the excuse for (my son's) mom involvement but it's hard to believe. I expect to be treated fair, though this is a tough time. I hope your school and you understand my pain. My son was talking about the trip and now he can't go.
He continued:
Nothing personal, I feel like very much insulted and humiliated but what I can do? nothing. In my culture teacher is consider to be the highest respected person...teacher is the designer of child's life path. You are all same respected force of educator. But This is what I believe. Something totally wrong in this trip turmoil.
I regret the misunderstanding with this family, but I stand by our goal to have as many students participate as possible, and does anyone appreciate how above and beyond our job description this whole thing is? Chalk it up to end-of-the-year fatigue, but I am officially aggravated.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
School Spirit
Today was the retirement party for three teachers on our staff. Some schools have a traditional retirement event, but our school doesn't, and as far as I know, never has. Every year we do something different, and it seems like people's feelings get a little bruised sometimes. So this year, in response to a request from 2 of the 3 veteran teachers retiring, a small committee formed to plan... something. In addition to planning a nice reception, we hoped that whatever it turned out to be would also be the template for an annual thing-- we wanted to start a tradition for our school.
It was a really fun party. There was food and wine, beer and music, speeches and dancing. All three of the women retiring had taught a long time, so the guest list was full of ghosts of our school past in addition to our present colleagues, and it seemed like everyone who was there understood that something a little magical was happening. We are not a particularly cohesive staff, and most often we feel defined by our differences of philosophy and opinion. That was not true this evening. We gathered in warm camaraderie to honor and celebrate our colleagues who have served long and in good faith, and by so doing, we honored each other and our profession as well. And it may have been the wine, or the women who were retiring, or the songs that the DJ played as many hands made light work of the clean up, but there was a connection among us that could not be denied.
It was a really fun party. There was food and wine, beer and music, speeches and dancing. All three of the women retiring had taught a long time, so the guest list was full of ghosts of our school past in addition to our present colleagues, and it seemed like everyone who was there understood that something a little magical was happening. We are not a particularly cohesive staff, and most often we feel defined by our differences of philosophy and opinion. That was not true this evening. We gathered in warm camaraderie to honor and celebrate our colleagues who have served long and in good faith, and by so doing, we honored each other and our profession as well. And it may have been the wine, or the women who were retiring, or the songs that the DJ played as many hands made light work of the clean up, but there was a connection among us that could not be denied.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Step Right Up
Recently, I discovered carnivals... blog carnivals. These are traveling digests of blog posts on a certain topic. So, as a writer, you can submit an entry to the host, and they may publish your link, which could increase traffic to your blog, and, ideally, expand the conversation. To the reader carnivals offer exposure to many blogs on a topic of interest. Apparently, there are tons of them out there.
So, I submitted a post to the current Carnival of Education, and what do you know? The host included my link. That's cool-- who has never desired the life of a carny, even for just a minute? And, there I am in the company of other teachers who are working hard at leading the examined life. Awesome. Check it out if you have time.
So, I submitted a post to the current Carnival of Education, and what do you know? The host included my link. That's cool-- who has never desired the life of a carny, even for just a minute? And, there I am in the company of other teachers who are working hard at leading the examined life. Awesome. Check it out if you have time.
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