Outstanding

Last year at this time I wrote a bit of a screed about awards ceremonies, and I stand my ground on that issue (please read that Alfie Kohn quotation), but the counselor reminded me a couple of weeks ago that the last time she was in sixth grade (our counselors loop with the students), we did an alternate awards activity where the students nominated each other for some sort of positive school-oriented achievement or action.

When she said so, I remembered that I got the idea from those painful few classes after past awards ceremonies where some kids would come up and ask why they hadn't received some recognition. I think we always hope that they will just know, and learn from the experience of not being one of "the chosen". What do you think you should have gotten? I asked a student one time, and when he told me, I whipped out a blank certificate left over from the official event, filled it out for him, and shook his hand as I presented it. He seemed genuinely appreciative, and I knew in my teacher's heart that it was a meaningful gesture.

This morning, as I introduced the nomination process to the students I told them that they really knew each other better than we ever could hope to, and I saw many heads nod in agreement. They were asked to identify noteworthy traits in one or more other students and to explain why these kids deserved acknowledgment for those things. The completed forms were very sweet-- the kids saw each other as friendly, smart, hard-working, joyful, independent, funny, athletic, creative, supportive, dedicated, helpful, and kind, among other qualities.

Tomorrow, each student will receive one certificate that is a compendium of the strengths that their peers and teachers have recognized in them, and during the presentation we'll cite the words of their fellow students who distinguished them for these honors, although the nomination will remain anonymous. Also, although students could nominate anyone on the team, we do this activity in class-sized groups so it doesn't become tedious.

If it's anything like last time? It'll be a nice way to end the year.

Circumstance

I used to wonder what it would feel like to be a person who didn't celebrate a main stream holiday-- for example Christmas in most western cultures. Did those people feel left out or even envious? Today I think I have my answer, but it's taken 23 years, give or take, to reach it. That's as long as I have been fatherless. There is no father in my household, either, and although I love my family fiercely, the third Sunday in June is like any other for me, and I must confess that I don't miss the fuss one bit.

Pomp

Tonight I attended the graduation ceremony of the top high school in the country. As proud as I was of our graduate, I was struck by the mediocrity of the event. There were several cleverly contrived speeches by students, educators, and dignitaries alike, but none of them hit home for me, much less hit a home run for me. My mind wandered and I wondered about the objective of such an occasion.

Still wondering.

Rock

Sisyphus got nothing on me today: 

The kids came in tired and grumpy this morning. "Whaaaat is the point of even having school?" one whined, his head lolling to the side. "We aren't going to learn anything. There are only four days left."

I rolled my eyes.

"You know you feel the same way," he said.

"Oh yeah?" I fired back. "Did you learn anything the last four days? What about the four days before that? How about the first four days of school? These four days are no different," I harrumphed.

His frown acknowledged that my point was well-taken. A few minutes later the bell rang, and my home room left. "Why are we even in schooooool?" a first period student moaned on the way in the door. "We aren't going to learn anything..."

And so it went.

Scissors

Today was our big end of the year trip. An all day excursion, we take our team of 90 sixth graders to the beach and then on a dolphin watching cruise. It's about a three hour bus ride away, and the kids are always very excited. This was my tenth time taking the trip, but today there was a first: one student brought his homework to finish on the way. Oblivious to the hub bub around him, he whipped out a pair of scissors and neatly cut out the little squares on his worksheet, then as we rolled through the coastal countryside he produced a glue stick so that he could complete the assignment.

Impressive.

Paper

I spent way too much paper time today. It was spring writing sample scoring day, and for some reason I was the only one in the English Department who got the memo that, hello, it's a group effort. I had an all-day sub, and everyone just else dropped in when they could find the time, meaning I read A LOT more essays than anyone else. The writing was quite competent but ultimately completely uninspiring, and my head still hurts.

My other primary paper pushing activity was picking up the printed literary magazines. I'm so thankful for the miraculous turn-around-- I only finished the layout a week ago, and although the publication is far from perfect, the product is pleasant, and I am pleased to check that puppy off my to-do list.

Water

Our garden hasn't been thriving as I wish it would, and I've figured out that it's because it needs water: it's been a dry spring, and the truth is that we haven't compensated nearly enough. Even so, ever since we've had the garden, I keep getting caught in the rain. Yesterday I was actually watering when my mother and I were drenched in a downpour. (It had been threatening for days without a true drop, so it was hard to believe it would ever actually rain.) The rule in the garden is that the last one out has to turn off the water, and by the time we got the tools loaded and made our dripping way over to the far side, the rain had almost stopped, but there was a full arc of a rainbow in the Eastern sky.

Bring on the rain.