The Old Lady and the Young Woman

Years ago I visited Ireland and took a driving tour around a couple of its scenic Atlantic peninsulas. At the time I was not a very experienced driver, and yet I did not hesitate to climb behind the wheel of the rental car, even though the wheel was located where I was used to having the passenger sit. Driving on the opposite side of the road gave me no pause either; I giggled a bit when, in a very charming Irish brogue, the rental agent advised us to “mind the roundabouts” and then politely added, “and please don’t curb the tires,” before depositing the keys in my outstretched palm with ill-disguised skepticism.

How many other Yanks had she seen go from brash to abashed when they returned their bashed rentals? Her attitude did not bother me, though, as I casually drove off on the left side of the road, and nor did the narrow winding roads scribing a thin line between the rolling green hills and the seaside cliffs. Admittedly, the roundabouts were a bit tricky, but it was in negotiating them that I realized that this endeavour could not be conscious—it was like looking at one of those optical illusion pictures that can be seen in two ways, like the young woman and the old lady—once you see both perspectives, it becomes easy to switch back and forth and also to focus on one. Of course, I lost this new point of view every now and then, but we returned the Ford Focus undamaged at the end of the week.

A while ago, Heidi decided that she would like to try a vegan diet for a while. At first, I was extremely resistant. Such a change seemed radical and frankly, a little depressing. Still, I agreed to go along for three weeks, cooking, if not eating, only plant-based foods. It wasn’t long before I discovered that I was having fun trying to create tasty, balanced meals from limited ingredients. I approached as a kind of cooking challenge, ever-mindful that it was only for a limited time. I found that I had kind of a knack for vegan cuisine (despite the inevitable failures: “cheesy” macaroni was the worst), and I also realized that I had been in a bit of a rut before, often relying on a rotation of the same old dishes in various combinations. For the first time in a while, I was thinking about new flavor profiles and researching new recipes and ingredients. I stopped focusing on what I couldn’t cook and turned my attention instead to what I could.

It is not my nature to embrace change, and lately I feel a shroud of dread descending on me at the least provocation. Reform Medicare? Change our email platform? Implement flexible scheduling? Work on Columbus Day? It doesn’t matter how minor the adjustment may be, I don’t want to deal with it, especially if I have not chosen for myself. They say that the Chinese symbol for crisis is a combination of danger and opportunity, and I can see how that is so. For me the choice is a little different: will it be the old lady or the young woman?

Silver and Gold

We held our end of the year staff party this afternoon, and it was a fun event. A couple of people are retiring, and so we took the occasion to honor them and wish them well. This is the end of my 18th year at this school, but it doesn't feel like it until I look around and realize that I am one of the old timers now. In fact, a few former retirees attended, and  not only was there definitely a generational divide, but I was on their side now.

One of my colleagues and I sat chatting as the party swirled around us-- music was playing; people were eating and drinking; groups formed and reformed on the couch, in the kitchen, and out on the deck. There was a lot of laughter, and my friend turned to me. "All of our young ones are really good," she said with a smile. "We're lucky."

I agree with her, and I hope they feel the same about us.

I'm Blushing

and those are real tears in my eyes. What I'm about to post may seem self-serving to some, but I want my mom to read it.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, we're wrapping up the year with personal profiles, People Magazine type pieces of journalism. The kids interviewed each other, but in the classes with an uneven number, I got involved in the project, too, both as reporter and interviewee. Here's what one of my kids wrote about me:

On June 30,1962 in Washington, D.C a child was born not knowing she would be come a teacher and a miraculous writer and reader.
    Tracey is an amazing, outstanding teacher. But there is definetely a child within her. "I think because she has had such a happy childhood that she is so good with kids." Tasnim  says.
    She is exciting and always knows what to do. She definitely likes teaching and she loves kids. And she also liked by everyone of her students.
    She is the oldest kid in her family so she was mostly always in charge. And being a teacher and having to be in charge of kids, she does not really feel out of place. "My brother and sister didn't give me a hard time so it was easy being in charge as a child!" Tracey says herself.
    Tracey as a little girl would pretend to be a teacher and would dream about it too. And now she is living the real thing. So what do her kids think about her in class. "She is fun to hang out with but also strict." her student Ashley says.
    Her childhood is such a big part of why she loves to teach and be a good teacher. "My mom was nice and awesome but also strict just like I am now." Tracey say she loves to teach and be a cool teacher with  her students. "She knows how to explain things but make it interesting." Maeve says.
    You really just have to admit she is a great teacher. "Although I have to work hard I love to work with kids." she says. I for one think she is an awesome teacher. Teaching makes Tracey happy.

Reading this piece was a special experience for me, and I know from listening to the students over the last few days how eager they are to read the profiles that their peers have written of them. I'm just so happy to have found such a great way to end our time together.

P.S. To regular readers of this blog, the author of this profile was the very same student who accused me of sucking the fun out of everything. Redemption is sweet.

But Who's Counting?

Today was the day when my students totaled up their independent reading for the year, and as usual, there were some pretty impressive figures.

Average pages per student: 10,788
(That's over three quarters of a million total pages.)
Average number of books completed per student: 49
Most avid reader: 73,286 pages and 190 books
Reader most in need of acceleration and encouragement: 904 pages and 10 books

Every one of those numbers is up from last year. I had my doubts about these kiddos in the beginning of the year, but, both in terms of writing and reading, they have finished strong.

Best of all is the improvement they see in themselves. "I can't believe it," one student said when she saw that she had read 33 books and almost 6000 pages. "I used to hate reading! Now," and here she picked up her copy of The Divide and literally hugged it, "I looooove it!"

Seven Wonders of the Modern World

Or, Instant Gratification is NOT Overrated

Streaming movies to mobile devices
Downloading books
Managing a library account online
Forever stamps
EZ Pass
Digital photos and phone cameras
Texting

Six Word Review

For Terrence Malick's Tree of Life:

I like a more narrative movie.

Einstein Never Met Us

e = 95 6th graders + 20 bowling lanes x 2 games each + 25 pizzas + ∞ refills on fountain drinks.

It wasn't the beach and dolphin watching, but it sure was a good time!