Watch Your Step

My students are doing a lovely job on their profile pieces. The writing is warm and witty, and so many of them have shown a knack for the style and voice that is most common in such articles. Oh sure, there have been a few missteps, but mostly they have been slight stumbles on the way to a knock-out profile. Here's an example of a minor mistake that made me giggle:

A plane flies into one of El Salvador’s airports. The passengers get their luggage, and start off the plane. One girl looks out into the country. The warm breeze touches her cheek. She walks off the plane, and steps on her heritage for the first time. 

Ouch!

Variable Weather

Yesterday I had a group of kids in my room ready for an outdoor field trip to conduct some local stream water testing. We had a few minutes before we were scheduled to walk to the park, and dark clouds gathered outside the window joining the sunshine and blue skies.

"Do you think it will rain?" a student asked me.

"Do you think it will rain?" I replied.

He and several other kids responded; it seemed like an even split of yeses and nos.

"Sounds like we have some pessimists here," I commented.

"Huh?" someone said, and scanning the room, I realized that she was not the only student unfamiliar with the term.

Forgive me for resorting to the obvious, but I drew a glass on the chalk board along with a line to show that there was liquid to the halfway point. "There!" I pronounced. "Is this glass half-empty or is it half-full?"

Just as with the weather, there was a pretty even split as the kids called out what they saw, although a couple savvy students answered, "Both!".

"Everyone's right," I said. "It's all about whether you look at what you have or what you're missing... have... missing... have... missing," I chanted as I pointed at the bottom and top of my illustration. "What kind of person are you?" I asked as I checked the clock and saw we still had a few more minutes before it was time to go.

And then Brandon had a total breakthrough. A spark ignited in his eyes and his body literally jerked. "I get it!" he said. "I get it!" he repeated to the kid next to him, and the understanding was clearly very profound. "Why can't you teach all of our classes?" he said to me. "The other teachers are--"

"Half full!" I reminded him.

"Exactly!" he answered, which was not quite the lesson I had in mind.

Turn Around, Bright Eyes

There's been a lot of press about the "Transit of Venus"-- that astronomical event, occurring even as I type, where Venus is actually visible to we Earthlings as a tiny dot on the sun as its orbit crosses ours. Much has been made of the fact that the next transit is not for 105 years (so see it while you can, folks!), but some of the coverage has focused on the practical aspects of viewing such a rare spectacle, reminding us that it is dangerous to look directly into the sun; in fact, I actually heard these words on the radio this morning, you can destroy your vision instantly... Yikes!

When I was 7 there was a total eclipse of the sun that was visible across North America. Thinking back, it seems like that was all anyone talked about for days. Both at school and at home we were warned again and again not to look right at it. At the same time, it seemed like everyone had a trick for being able to watch the eclipse without damaging your eyesight.

When the time came, my dad poked a hole in a sheet of paper and held it in the direct sunlight streaming through our living room window with another piece of paper below it. The idea was that the light shining through the pinhole would be eclipsed as the sun was. I don't think it worked, because I also remember watching the eclipse on TV.

Back then, I imagined that if we looked our eyes would ignite and burn away, and we would be left blind, but with that final image of that sun's corona dancing around the shadow of the moon burned into our brains forever.

Read All About It

The finishing touch of most journalism pieces is not a title but a headline.

So I told my students today as we embarked on the last week of their personal profile assignment. Before we looked at some tips on how to write an effective headline, we looked at a few examples of some that had fallen short. Here they are:

Police chase winds through three towns
Teacher strikes idle kids
Trial ends in mercy killing
Owners responsible for biting canines
Sisters reunited after 18 years in checkout line at supermarket
Services for man who refused to hate Thursday in Atlanta
Grandmother of eight makes hole in one
Milk drinkers are turning to powder
Juvenile court tries shooting suspect 
New rule cuts tardy students in half

As for that last one? My homeroom this year would be a bloodbath.

The Dreaded Red Number

If you know that the title of this post refers to a cartoon drawing of a dentist in red smock and dreadlocks, Novocain at the ready, that appeared on a map of downtown Washington DC, then you were at the 5th annual PostHunt today.

My nephew, Treat, and I were there, too, and we agreed at the end of the afternoon that this year was really hard. We sort of got four out of the five puzzles, and I was proud of myself for deciphering a tiny bit of the endgame on the subway platform, even after we had given up.

The day was beautiful though and luck was on our side. As we plotted and solved our way around Penn Quarter, we overshot the best street to turn on to take us to our next clue, so we took the next right instead. Walking down a street nearly deserted of fellow hunters, I squinted at some people up the block. They were definitely wearing STAFF shirts. "What are they doing here?" I wondered aloud, and we picked up our pace a little to find out. Miraculously, they handed us what happened to be a clue to a puzzle we were stuck on.

"Yay!" I cheered. "How did we do that?"

Treat studied the map. "It's right here," he pointed. "The dreaded red numb-er."

The Soul of Wit

I am not one who goes in much for pageantry and ceremony-- we can analyze that in another entry-- so this time of year with its first communions, weddings, retirements, awards, and graduations can be trying for me.

Today was an exception, however. We attended the graduation of a good friend's son, and although I was dreading it a bit, it was painless. No, it was better than painless: it was actually sort of enjoyable.

Why? Well, he was one of only two graduating from his Sudbury school. There were just four chairs on the stage, and following a brief welcome, a personal speaker for each graduate, and remarks from both boys, we were witness to the quickest.diploma.procession.ever.

Short, individualized, and student-centered... just my kind of thing.

Diminishing Returns

I had my writing group last night and as always it was a fun evening. We have been meeting monthly for nearly six years now, and I love the camaraderie. The food's great too, and the writing is none too shabby. It's always a thrill to see what my friends bring.

As for myself, well, I struggle lately.  Eighteen months ago I started something, a little story which will probably end up as my third unfinished novel. I've written a bit for almost every meeting since then, and I have perhaps 5000 words. Last night was definitely the least I've ever composed, one paragraph of perhaps 125 words.

I liked it though; it was a fine paragraph indeed.

And... at this rate? I'll have some kind of something in about 10 years. Stay tuned.

In the meantime,  kudos to my friend, Mike, whose first novel was published yesterday!