The Rain in Maine

Dateline June 23, 2012, Somewhere on I-95 between Augusta and Bangor

It's a long way from our house to the place we are staying for the next Two weeks, some 750 miles, but usually it's a trip that I enjoy. The Atlantic states are like so many stepping stones that we hopscotch merrily over on our way to Vacationland; an hour or so in each one and then it's on to the next.

Even so, when you hit the Maine border and realize that there are still more than three hours to go, road weariness is a hazard. We customarily shake it off by making a quick pit stop to stretch our legs and smell the Maine. One deep breath of the balsam and salt air restores us.

Today torrents of rain started just as we crossed over from New Hampshire and sadly, smelling the rain didn't have quite the same effect. Still we slog on, because a soggy vacation is still a vacation.

Never the Same Text Twice

I confess that this has been a hectic couple of weeks. There were days I thought would never come and others I never thought would end.Through it all I've been scrambling to keep ahead of the next thing, so it was hardly surprising when I found myself sitting at my desk at 5:30 PM on the evening before the last day of school trying to plan a coherent, 30 minute, lesson that would be meaningful to my students.

This morning I heard a clip from Aaron Sorkin's new TV show Newsroom, where in response to the question What makes America the greatest country in the world? the main character replies:

We lead the world in only three categories: number of incarcerated citizens per capita, number of adults who believe angels are real, and defense spending, where we spend more than the next 26 countries combined - 25 of whom are allies. 

I get his strident reservations, but I remembered the angel stat well into the day, and I might just thank an angel for the idea that occurred to me for that final activity of the year. We returned to the very first poem we read together, Knoxville, Tennessee by Nikki Giovanni.

It was definitely one of the most interesting lessons I've ever taught. Many students recognized the text, so I told them that I wanted to compare their observations now to what they said then. Qualitatively, there seemed to be quite a bit of growth.

"It's so easy now!" one student exclaimed. "When I heard it the first time it just seemed like too many words."

And every class was able to point out the sensory details as well as the devices Giovanni uses to create a child's voice.

"It's like an ode to summer," mentioned one kid, and I was pleased that he not only remembered odes but recognized one.

My favorite comment came from one of my most thoughtful students. "When I first read it in September it seemed like she was looking back at summer, but now it seems like she's in a rush for summer to come." She paused, and her eyes widened. "No!"she whispered. "That's how I feel... Cool!"

Have a Seat

Something there is about the last day of school that brings out the emotion in everyone. Here's an example:

It's the end of homeroom. A student approaches in tears.

She: Waaaaaaah! This is our last TA EVER!

Me: Wasn't that you who told me you hated TA on Monday?

She, clutching me: Waaaah! This is our last hug ever!

Me: This is our first hug ever...

But I knew how she felt. Endings are always hard.

Me: Hey, listen-- you know where to find me. I'll be right here next year. You can come sit in the chair by my desk any time.

She: Yeah! That will always be my chair right?

Me: Right!
 
And that's why that chair is there. It belongs to anyone who needs to sit there.

Above My Pay Grade

We had our big end of the year field trip today, and despite clear communication that all permission slips were due yesterday I found myself in the main office at 8 AM on the phone with a parent. One hundred people waited on two charter buses as an irate dad informed me that he had sent in the required paper work several weeks ago.

It didn't matter that not only had I personally reminded the student several times that he needed to turn in his permission, nor that I had called the dad the evening before to say that if his son brought in his forms this morning he would still be allowed to go. I explained then exactly what he needed and he assured me that he understood and would do what was necessary. Now he reverted to the story that they had submitted the forms weeks ago along with their payment.

"We only sent the permission slips home last week," I said.

"He has to go! It wouldn't be fair to leave him behind," his dad insisted. "This is not his fault."

"We can't take him without the form," I apologized.

"I sent that form, I know it!" he told me.

We went back and forth a couple of times until finally I said, "I can't make exceptions. It's not my rule."

And with those magic words I realized that I needed to hand this phone call off to someone with more authority. "Just a moment," I told him. "I'm going to let you talk to an administrator."

In the end, the administrator let the kid go. She emailed his dad a copy of the slip, he faxed it back, and she emailed it to me at the location of our trip. 

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am no hardass when it comes to deadlines and such. I believe that if something is worth doing, then it's worth doing as long as it's possible.

Even so... this case? Ridiculous.

Got Talent?

Today was our annual school talent show, and as every year I was impressed by the guts that the performers had to get up there and play, sing and/or dance in front of a packed house. Back when I was in school, talent shows had a different flavor. There was a lot of lip-syncing, baton twirling, and cheesy magic.

I remember a couple of years ago being surprised at the number of solo a capella acts in our school show. Several kids just got up there and sang into the mike. It seemed like such a huge risk to take, completely out of the middle school nature, but then someone reminded me that American Idol auditions had that format.

Over the last week or so, Heidi has really gotten into So You Think You Can Dance. This season is still at the try out stage, and I have to admit that they do a good job blending talent and personal backstories to make some pretty good television. I would never watch it on my own, but I don't mind having it on.

And, thanks to that viewing experience, I totally understood where the dance acts today were coming from. In fact it was all I could do to keep from calling out, "And... cue music."

Crunching the Numbers

Teachers always talk about the nature of one group of students compared to another. One year they are sweet, another sharp, still another short and stupid (not really-- but you get the idea). It's not the individuals we are characterizing, but rather how they interact: it's the group dynamic that shapes the collective personality.

This year? The kids on our sixth grade team have been... challenging. Sure, there are a lot of variables, but the exact same teachers teaching the exact same subjects have all come to the consensus that, communally, these kids do less work and get in more trouble than the sixth graders in the two years past.

Well, that's been our impression, but today I was faced with some sobering evidence. As I do each year, I had the students add up the total number of pages they have logged for their independent reading since September. Last year, my students read an average of 10,788 pages per person for a total of over three quarters of a million pages. The figures today were very disappointing. These kids averaged 5,356 pages, less than half of their counterparts.

 Not surprisingly, many weren't too keen on the recommended summer reading list I offered. A lot weren't even willing to commit to choosing their own books to read. "We just want to chill," one student said, "especially after all the crud of school." There were nods of agreement all around.

"That may be," I shrugged, "but you can bet there are some kids who are going to read this summer, and you know what? They are the ones you are going to be competing with to get into college and probably for the jobs you want."

Was it my hopeful imagination or did their eyes grow slightly wider?

"Well... I might read something," the student answered, and fortunately there were several nods from his peers.

The View from Sunday Night

So much accomplished, so much left to do.