"I wish we had a teleporter," Kyle said on the trip back from Bar Harbor today to our rental house in Steuben this afternoon. "I would just transport myself to the front door and walk in."
"You wouldn't have a key," one of the older boys helpfully pointed out. "Why not just transport yourself inside?"
"Good idea," he agreed.
My thoughts went in a different direction. In these days of incredible and extreme connectivity, it seems that everywhere is nearby. Not only can you email or skype or facetime anyone almost anywhere in the world, you can have almost anything you want delivered to your home within a week.
As for this place? Relative to my home in a busy metro area it takes a long time to get anywhere from here, but even in the last two days I've noticed my perspective changing with each landmark I am able to remember and recognize. The distances seem shorter.
How different the Down East Maine coast would be if people could teleport here. It is wild and beautiful partially because it is so remote. If anyone could just pop in and pop home at will, well, the mosquitoes might have a lot more to eat.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Ground Water
There are many things I like aboout Maine, but one of them is the temperature of the tap water. Back in Virginia there's no such thing as cool drink of water much after Memorial Day. Not so here-- it is icy cold from the faucet all year long.
I have been drawn to this state since the first time I visited here seventeen years ago. To be honest, it was only courtesy that led me to accept a new friend's invitation to visit her family's summer home on Mt. Dessert Island. When I arrived, the brilliant 80 degree days in mid-August certainly turned my head, but it was the combination of ocean, mountain, and forest that won my heart.
We were driving down yet another road lousy with views of lobster boats, light houses, forests, and granite ledges, our windows open to the balsam and salt air, when it all became clear to me. "I hate it here," I said. "There will never be any place better. The coast of Maine has ruined the world for me."
My perspective has been tempered over the years since then, mostly by mosquitoes and long drives, but this evening after the rain clouds cleared to a painfully blue sky, Treat and Josh and Kyle and Isabel and I did a most remarkable 1.5 mile hike through field and forest and leading to a lovely cobble stone and sand beach, and as if that was not enough, there was lobster for dinner and some ice cold water from the tap.
I have been drawn to this state since the first time I visited here seventeen years ago. To be honest, it was only courtesy that led me to accept a new friend's invitation to visit her family's summer home on Mt. Dessert Island. When I arrived, the brilliant 80 degree days in mid-August certainly turned my head, but it was the combination of ocean, mountain, and forest that won my heart.
We were driving down yet another road lousy with views of lobster boats, light houses, forests, and granite ledges, our windows open to the balsam and salt air, when it all became clear to me. "I hate it here," I said. "There will never be any place better. The coast of Maine has ruined the world for me."
My perspective has been tempered over the years since then, mostly by mosquitoes and long drives, but this evening after the rain clouds cleared to a painfully blue sky, Treat and Josh and Kyle and Isabel and I did a most remarkable 1.5 mile hike through field and forest and leading to a lovely cobble stone and sand beach, and as if that was not enough, there was lobster for dinner and some ice cold water from the tap.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
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.
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.
Friday, June 22, 2012
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!"
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!"
Thursday, June 21, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
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."
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."
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