It's Time to Pay Attention

It wasn't too long ago that I couldn't keep the difference between Medicaid and Medicare straight in my head. I knew they were medical care programs provided by the government, but which was for seniors and which was for people who couldn't afford insurance was irrelevant to me. I'd like to think that the debate on health care reform over the last couple of years clued me in a little. Well that, and maybe the fact that my mom qualifies for one of those programs raised my awareness somewhat, but it wasn't until today, when I heard of Representative Paul Ryan's proposed changes to those particular programs (slated to take full effect in 2021), that the difference was crystal clear.

In ten years, I will be nearing the age when I will probably rely on Medicare. All of a sudden, that hypothetical blah blah blah didn't seem quite so unfathomable and irrelevant as it once did... now they are talking about me and my benefits. I can only hope that most other people my age aren't too preoccupied with the busy lives they are leading right now to come to the same awareness.

Gone to Carolina

Spring break is late this year, as late as it can possibly be since it is based on the Easter holiday. Treat and I looked it up a couple of weeks ago, and it seems that Easter is traditionally scheduled on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox. Okay... Well, that super moon just happened to be the day before the equinox, thus pushing Easter back to late April.


Let's not go into the pros and cons of the current academic calendar except to say that we have gone a long time without a break, and there is some weariness among the school folk, both child and adult alike, with whom I spend my days. It won't be too long now, though...

When April 15 rolls around, we are going to the beach right outside Charleston, South Carolina with my family, and then the lateness of the break will work to our advantage all the way. Average temps in the upper 70's, cool ocean breezes, family fun, and fried shrimp will recharge us for the final push toward June 23.

Let the countdown begin!

Unintended Consequences

So the month of March was an emotional one for a few of my students. I know because they used the discussion board on our online course not just to do their slice-of-life writing, but also to flirt and nearly "go out", whatever that means in sixth grade these days.

A boy and a girl from very different social groups started  playfully posting back and forth to each other in several forums on the discussion board, but anyone who bothered (or was professionally obligated) to read their conversations would be clueless not to see what was going on. Oh, I spoke to them, both personally and in writing as they continued their cyber-courtship, but they both assured me that they didn't care if everyone knew what was on their mind.

Like many things in a pre-teen's life, this relationship burned brightly and then flamed out. She wanted him to speak to her in person at school, and he never did. Then she slighted him in science class, and his temper was revealed; there were some angry posts. Even though it turned out to be a misunderstanding, she was clearly miffed at his e-tantrum. And here the plot thickens:

Sensing his chance, another guy started posting friendly and supportive messages to her. The first boy responded immediately, dismissing his rival with playful insults. Eventually, they decided on a duel of wits-- a joke off. Several posts later, she finally intervened. "You're both so stupid-- you wrote all these things and thought you could agree on the winner!"

Smart girl.

Wolf?

"You did the right thing to call us, ma'am," was the last thing the paramedic said as he and two of his colleagues, three firefighters, and a police officer left our house tonight. For the first time in my life, I had actually dialed the digits that summon such help. Heidi was hypoglycemic and alternating between combative and unresponsive. She had fallen twice, and I had already made good on my threat of using "the big shot". There hadn't been any improvement, though, and frankly, I was scared.

A tear slid down my nose as I pressed those three buttons and heard that iconic answer: 911-- what's your emergency?

My voice trembled as I explained the situation, and we were still on the phone when I heard the sirens wailing. With a start, I realized they were on the way to our door.

Fortunately by the time they got here, Heidi was a little better, and within five minutes, I was able to call from the landing outside the bedroom that what they were seeing was just her regular oppositional personality, not necessarily the low blood sugar. They left without treating her, and as the seven of them tromped down the stairs, I'm sure that my cheeks burned with a little embarrassment. It was a struggle not to second-guess my decision to make the call. I thanked them all for their help, and on his way out the door one of the paramedics stopped.

"You did the right thing to call us, ma'am," he said.

Mixed Message

Last weekend we went to see the documentary I Am,  made by Tom Shadyac, the director of such silly movies as Ace Ventura, The Nutty Professor, and Bruce Almighty. After a life-changing injury, he decided to interview an array of spiritual and intellectual leaders and pose the question of what is wrong with our world today.

I knew from the trailer that the movie had an uplifting message about the fundamental interdependence of us all, and I was looking forward to seeing it. Arriving at the theater a little early, because we had been lucky to find on-street parking downtown, we had our choice of seats, so we picked a couple in the center. I relaxed and waited for the film to start, and over the next few minutes several more people came, but the place was by no means full when the lights went down. Just at that moment, a really big guy entered the theater and, despite all the other open seats, came and sat right next to me.

All of a sudden, my whole experience was a lot less comfortable; I was physically crowded and kind of irritated. There was another seat on the other side of Heidi, and she suggested I just scoot over. I squirmed as I considered the idea, wondering what the guy would think if I moved-- it would obviously be because he sat there. I thought, too, about the premise of the movie we were about to see-- that we were all connected on some level, and I tried to reconcile my strong desire for personal space with that idea.

In the end? I moved. The movie was good: thought-provoking and uplifting, but I left the theater a little bummed, weighed down by my inability to overcome my discomfort at sitting a bit too close to another human being.

Borrowed Words

As the 2011 SOLSC draws to an end, I'm going to share what one of my students wrote today:

Well it's March 31 which means this is the last Slice of Life Post. This was a really fun thing to do. I wish we could do this again. I really enjoyed it and I am going to miss it because now I won't know how [much] fun everybody had during their day. I always loved coming on here and telling everyone about my day, it can get all the problems I am having now and make them go away. This was the only place where I could let all my problems GO! I hope everyone also liked this activity. This is one thing I will never forget about my 6th grade year. 

Thanks to Two Writing Teachers for sponsoring such an inspiring activity.

Spoiler Alert

The other day my students were talking about their independent reading books in small groups. It's a weekly assignment, but right now, it seems like there are a lot of kids reading The Hunger Games and its sequels, and all of them are in different places, which makes it a little challenging for them to have these discussions without spoiling the plot for someone else. In one of my classes I looked up to find a student pacing back and forth next to his table with his fingers in his ears. At first, I was alarmed, but when I went over there, the group explained that he just didn't want to hear anything about what was coming next in the book.

Later in the day, someone asked me about the narrative voice of the series. "It's written in first person," I said. "The main character, Katniss Everdeen, is telling the story in all three books."

"Thanks a lot!" a little girl snapped, "Now I know she doesn't die!"

I laughed and to throw her off I said, "Oh no-- she tells the third one from beyond the grave." And then I made spooky ghost noises.

"Thanks a lot," she said again. "Now you've really ruined it!"

Since it was clear I couldn't win, and I kind of wanted to mess with her and keep her guessing, too, I continued. "But that's not all! She's a zombie in the second one!"

"Oh she is not!" the student insisted. "I saw the last line of the book. She takes Peeta's hand."

"Yeah, his cold, dead, severed hand!" I said triumphantly.

"Oh, now I don't even know what to think! I'm just going to finish the book," she scoffed.

"You do that," I told her. "You do that."

(Click here for today's sample of my 6th grade students' response to the SOLSC challenge.)