Back to School

I went back to work today, not fully recovered but certainly much, much better than I have been. It wasn't going to be a strenuous day: I knew my students would be busy typing during class time, and I wanted a chance to get a little organized for next week. I also figured if it wiped me out, I'd be able to rest some more over the weekend.

It was nice to be back-- many of my colleagues expressed concern and wished me well and the students seemed very happy to have me back. Too happy, in fact. It didn't take long to notice that they cheered my return without even asking about my absence beyond an occasional accusatory "Where were you?"

In what became a typical conversation of the day, I would answer, "I was sick," in a voice still a bit congested and punctuated by a little cough now and then.

The inevitable reply? "Well thank goodness you're better, because that sub you had was meeeeeeaaaaan!"

See? Education really is all about the students. It's all about them.

Breadcrumbs

Sometimes the signs all seem to point in a single direction. Several weeks ago, we saw a preview for a movie which was memorable mostly because it had one of the actors from Glee in it. A couple weeks after that, we were watching TV on a snow day when we saw another young actor badgered into removing his shirt. He was on the show to promote that same movie. Just last week, one of my students told me that her whole family was reading a particular book-- they had it in hard cover and kindle versions and they kept swiping them from each other to get a little farther along. "You should really read it," she told me earnestly, "it's that good." And then the day before yesterday, when my head hurt too much to read or watch TV, or almost anything else except lie in a dim room, it occurred to me to look for an audiobook I could listen to (turned down very low) to at least distract me a little from my misery. The first one I found was I Am Number Four, which was the very same movie and book from each of these other anecdotes.

I finished it a little earlier today, and I liked it enough to look forward to seeing the movie when it opens next week and to pre-order the next book in the series (not out until August). And, if nothing else, it saw me through to a point in my little illness where I can once again sit in a lighted room or in front of a screen for more than a couple of minutes. Thank you, Pittacus Lore. (Yeah, that's a pen name.)

Not Quite on My Way

Being sick today was like being stuck at the airport when your flight has been delayed-- there's nowhere to go, and none of the food tastes good. I sat around all day drinking water and listening to an audiobook. Fortunately, my couch was slightly more comfortable than the notorious gate area seating, but I'm still waiting to hear that boarding call for my flight back to wellness.

Round Three Goes to the Flu

Down for the count, flattened, conquered, beaten. Crushed, trounced, overwhelmed, routed, white washed-- that's me today.

Bring It

Today I had the opening session of the latest section of the online early adolescent development course I coordinate, and once again it was very interesting how different this group was from the other two. I guess I understand this concept when it comes to kids, but for some reason it still surprises me when it's an adult class. This group was much less freaked out by the technology details but way more concerned with the minimum amount of work that might be considered "acceptable." I gave my now standard speech about the design of the course and its reliance on participants applying the information provided to their teaching practices. I made the point that each would really get out of the course about as much as he or she put into it. Still there was a question at the end about a particular component. "What if I'm on line, but I don't post very much?"

I shrugged. "Look," I said, "it's like a pot luck. You can bring the paper napkins or you can bake a pie. You still get to eat. You decide what's best for you."

Mixed Blessing

I went to bed last night with a fever of 101 and a sinus headache that felt like I'd been hit in the face with a cast iron skillet. I didn't feel any better when I woke up this morning, and nothing I took or did seemed to help. I stayed in bed until 2:30 this afternoon, and only stumbled down to the kitchen because I was craving grapefruit and a cup of tea. The steaming water in the kettle gave me another idea, and acting on that whim, I made a hot compress and placed it over the bridge of my nose, cheeks, and eyes. It was really hot, and it totally worked-- my headache went away almost immediately. I think I'm even going to be able to go to school tomorrow.

Clowning Around

So the joke box in my room is overflowing, which is an excellent reminder that kids know what kids like and we should listen to them as often as we can. The student who initiated the joke contest came up to talk to me about it the other day. "So what are we going to give as a prize? Don't say a lollipop."

I laughed and shrugged. "This is your thing. What do you think the prize should be?"

Yesterday, all on her own, she brought a little back-flipping gorilla and a better lollipop than the ones I have. "Time to judge the contest," she said and ceremoniously dumped all the jokes onto my desk. Friday is game day in homeroom and several kids set aside their connect four and checkers and came over to lend a hand. After we went through them, it was a tie. "What are we going to do now?" the jokemaster wondered, and I looked around my room. After 18 years, I have quite a whimsical collection of odds and ends. I pulled a clown's nose from a decorated tin can on the shelf behind me.

"How about this?" I asked, donning the schnoz for effect. It was perfect, so perfect in fact that we jumped on the computer and ordered a dozen more to last us the rest of the year. The whole set was four bucks and they'll be delivered on Monday. "Don't worry, I got this," I assured the assembled students.

"See? This is why I love this homeroom!" said one, and I had to agree.