What Do You Say to That?

My niece is a couple months shy of two-and-a-half, and she is working hard on those social skills. Today we were out in the front yard playing a silly game. Pretending to be squirrels, we were busy digging little holes when she interrupted our industry. "Look," she pointed, "a dog!"

"This dog's bigger than you are!" the owner told her, and it was true. Her eyes widened a bit, and she stood silently, clearly at a loss for what to say.

He was halfway down the block when it came to her. "We have acorns!" she called waving a fistful of nuts at his back.

Yes we did.

Out the Window

It's a long drive from Washington DC to Atlanta, and this time of year the trip will take you from one end of spring to the other. There's a lot to look at along the way; today my favorite was the peach orchards that we passed at sunset-- all twisted trunks and bare branches, hundreds of black stitches in the pink and orange sky.

Collateral Damage

The entire sixth grade went ice skating today. This is the fourth year in a row that we have taken this trip. Usually it's planned for the day before Winter Break, and it was this year, too, but we got snowed out. What better day to make it up than the one before Spring Break? we thought. It'll be all the fun minus the cold walk up to the rink.

We were half right. A frigid rain fell as we marched our students the three-quarter miles from school to the skating complex, but soggy though they were when we arrived, their enthusiasm was undampened. Over half of them were first time skaters, and 180 kids spent a happy two hours sliding, gliding, and inevitably colliding on the ice. Even our blind student got out there and learned some basics.

Then, for the fourth straight year, there was an injury serious enough for a student to be taken back to school. "Maybe we shouldn't do this trip anymore," I said to the other team leader.

But despite a gash on her hand that would eventually need five stitches, the student who was hurt tried to convince us to let her stay. "We still have thirty minutes of skating and lunch in the food court-- I'm fine!" she assured us, and huge tears of disappointment rolled down her cheeks as we bundled her into the car for the trip back to school.

At the end of the day, the kids had a great time, but I'm still wondering if it was worth it. All the students had turned in signed permission slips with waivers acknowledging that skating can be dangerous, but what level of risk is acceptable? Shouldn't you call it quits if you're pretty sure somebody's going to get hurt?

Going Once... Going Twice... Sold!

Once a month, the counselor comes into all of my classes for the day. The arrangement allows her to meet with her entire caseload somewhat regularly. About half the time she conducts class meetings using Glasser's model, but she also uses the time for other mandated topics as well, such as career exploration, internet safety, academic planning and scheduling. Occasionally she plans activities that help the kids explore their values, and that was what we did today.

The premise was an auction. Each student had 50,000 dollars to spend on one or more items on a list of twenty-five. Once we explained how an auction worked, we left the strategy up to them. Here's what they could bid on in increments of $100.00:

A new home, fully furnished
Good looks
A happier family
Excellent grades
A complete wardrobe of beautiful clothes
Lots of friends
The trust and respect of their peers
The trust and respect of adults
Popularity
A clean earth
A room of their own
Good health for their family
The chance to travel the world
Success in sports
Twenty four hours to do exactly what you want
World peace
Guaranteed success in marriage or partnership
A successful career
A chance to help people
A trip to the moon
A TV of their own
A cure for cancer
The chance to meet any celebrity of their choice
Freedom and dignity for all people
An education at the college of their choice

To begin with, they had to write down the items that were of interest to them, and figure out a ballpark amount that they were willing to spend, but none of that planning was binding. Sixth graders must be the perfect age for this activity: they immediately shed their disbelief and behaved as if they were really competing to buy these things.

As the day went on students entered already excited about what they had heard of the lesson. One of our rules was that no one could express judgment at what other people bought, but once the auction got going, it was fascinating to see which kids valued what, and how much they were willing to spend of their imaginary money.

As Virginia Woolf might have predicted, the room of their own went for over 20,000 bucks every time; that college education and a cure for cancer never sold for less than the full fifty grand. In each class there was a poignant bidding war for a happier family, and there were some altruistic kids who bid only on a clean or peaceful earth, or freedom and dignity. I was surprised at a couple who fell into that category and glad to be reminded of that sweet side to them. Of course success in sports and the chance to meet a celebrity were very popular items, but my heart went out to those who way overspent for good looks or popularity, and especially to the diligent kid who bid thousands for the excellent grades he already works so hard for.

Why Should I?

We had an unscheduled evacuation of the building this morning. It was during homeroom, so everyone knew something was amiss, a drill at that time is unheard of. Our suspicions were only confirmed as the students streamed past our principal who was only just then heading inside, late for school. Fortunately, it was a lovely morning, a bit chilly, but the sun was rising over our school, and it shone on us as we waited shivering in our little lines.

I listened for the sound of sirens; in the event of an unplanned alarm the fire department must clear the building before we can re-enter. The trucks were a long time coming, and they hadn't arrived yet when the students began to get restless. We are supposed to remain silent throughout any emergency procedure, but there was quite a bit of chatter. Some teachers ignored it, some allowed it, others tried to maintain quiet.

I was one of the shushers. My students knew what I expected of them, but they tried to convince me otherwise, pantomiming their requests to sit down, pointing out other kids and even adults who were talking. I  shrugged unsympathetically at the scofflaws, regarding my own little group with a critical eye.

I have ten pretty squirrely kids in my homeroom, but I know they can stand quietly for ten minutes, and I wanted to prove it to them. "I'll give a lollipop to anyone who can stay silent until we get back to the room," I told them, and all of a sudden it wasn't hard at all to wait wordlessly in the warming air.

I'm So Adjective I Verb Nouns

We're coming down to the wire on the fiction pieces my students are writing. Almost all of them have submitted a typed second draft, and I'm making my way through them, working as editor. Most kids will hand in final drafts tomorrow.

Part of our class always involves looking at their independent reading to see what they can learn as writers. Last week we looked at setting, this week the focus is on verbs. Most of the kids have written tales of action, all have used dialog. Yesterday they copied a passage from their book and highlighted the verbs, discussing in small groups how the authors chose these verbs to help develop not only the plot, but also character and mood.

Today they used the word processor's highlighting tool to focus on their own verbs, then took a quick gallery walk around the room to see what action-packed vocabulary their classmates had chosen. When they returned to their seats, we made a list of the most notable verbs they had collected in their walk-about, and I showed them how to use the thesaurus tool to expand their choices. "Can we change our verbs now?" someone in every class asked eagerly.

I'm so nice, I let them.

Honk If You Like the Health Care Bill

Honk twice if you're worried about reconciliation.

I live inside the Beltway. 'nuff said?

Oh, and I picked Kansas to win in my NCAA bracket.