What's the Objective?

I have a student this year who is constantly asking why we are doing whatever it is we are. He is always very courteous and sincere when he asks what the point of the lesson or activity is. I know this, because as an experienced classroom teacher I automatically search his eyes with my x-ray bullshit detector vision to see if this is a case of work avoidance, defiance, or something else equally counterproductive. With him, though, it seems to be genuine, if pointed, curiosity.

Despite the fact that he is a bit mischievous and somewhat distractable (in other words, eleven), his question always has a ring of authenticity to it, and so I answer him honestly, explaining what I hope he and the rest of my students will get from the lesson and how. Once so informed, he seems not only satisfied but also doubly willing to accomplish the task at hand.

I wonder who taught him to ask this question, and why, especially because such a conversation is very rare in sixth grade. One day, I will ask him about it, but until then? I'm enjoying the accountability.

The Worst Years of Your Life?

We ran into a former student and her mom at the farmers market yesterday. "How's high school?" Heidi asked. "Do you love it?"

Emma shook her head vigorously. "Oh yeah!" she answered.

Heidi and I exchanged shrugs and nods. "That's what they all say," Heidi told her. "Middle school must be pretty rotten."

More knowing shrugs all around.

"Well," her mom said brightly, "at least you two are there. That makes a big difference!"

That was nice.

Oh My! That Internets is Amazing!

One of my newest semi-obsessions is Goodreads.  For those who are unaware, GR is a social networking site devoted to books and reading. I actually joined a year or so ago and then got busy and forgot about it. I'm not sure what renewed my interest in it a few weeks ago (probably work avoidance of some sort), but once I started listing books I'd read, the gratification of watching my list grow was pretty intense, and I've been hooked ever since.

But wait, there's more! Not only can you keep a running record of all you have read, along with your personal ratings (in stars, written reviews are optional), you can also receive suggestions based on your bookshelf, connect with friends to see what they are reading and what they recommend, and even follow authors who are also members.

I know I'm relatively late to the Goodreads party, but as an English teacher? I must say that it's never too late to celebrate reading. In fact, I'm working on ways to use the site with my kids. I'll keep you posted.

(In the mean time you can friend me!)

Cowboys and Mennonites

We took advantage of the PERFECT! weather this evening and piled Isabel in the station wagon for a walk on the National Mall. I was kind of anxious to see the newly re-opened reflecting pool by the Washington Monument; it seems like it's been a muddy hole in the ground for a really long time.

Despite how gorgeous it was, at 5:15 we had no trouble parking and plenty of daylight left. There are many things I love about being on the mall. To me, Washington is architecturally the most European city in the States, and having had the pleasure of living on that continent for three years, I appreciate its monumental nature. That particular part of DC is also a place where people from all over the world converge, more so even than in other areas of our very diverse region, and on our walk tonight we must have heard a dozen languages. (I definitely recognized Arabic, Italian, Spanish, German, Russian, and of course, English, but there were several more.)

Tonight I found yet another reason to head to our nation's backyard. Here in our nation's capital, we are lucky to have a very successful bike share program with stations conveniently located all over town. This evening as we walked, every place we passed was out of bikes, but that was hardly surprising considering the number of riders we saw all around us.

Judging by the appearance of those folks pedaling along the paths, it seems that like many of the other attractions of Washington, bicycles are also an international draw. My favorites, though, were the three guys in jeans, boots, and stetsons, who were closely followed by the four men in plain black pants, brilliant blue shirts buttoned to the throat, and flat wide-brimmed hats. Those guys must have left their horses (and buggies) at home.

Ahead of Her Time

 This morning as I blended up Heidi's breakfast smoothie, I was momentarily transported forty years back in time to another blender in another kitchen, and it reminded me that my mother was always somewhat of a visionary. Back then, one of our breakfast staples was an invention of hers we called Goody Milk. Decades before the smoothie became the go-to on the run power meal, my mom was blitzing up milk, fruit, ice cubes, and a raw egg to give us a quick and energizing start to our day. She also baked breakfast cookies complete with oatmeal, dried fruit, and bacon.

But that's not all. Before we headed off to school, my mother corralled me and my friends for a ten minute work-out in our living room. Despite our teenaged groaning she led us in stretches, leg lifts, abs, and lunges every morning. Today, at 73, my mother continues to be a model of health and fitness. She exercises regularly and eats a sensible diet.

Imagine a road of wellness that stretches from Jane Fonda to Michelle Obama-- over the years, millions of people have jumped on the fitness bandwagon as it has passed by, modifying their habits and their diets to live a healthier life.

But my mom? She didn't have to jump on; she was already driving it.

Be Careful What You Wish For

I hate to be a knee-jerk complainer, so when I found out there would be an adult education class meeting in my room every day at 4:30, I tried to accept it as the Universe's way of telling me that I spend too much time at school. I'll go to the garden or the gym, I thought. Who knows? This could be life-altering!

It wasn't too many days before I knew it would be almost impossible to get all my work done if I was forced to pack up and leave by that time, and the only alteration it would have on my life was in my job performance. With a sigh, I resolved to contact my administrator.

Fortunately, she couldn't have been more cooperative (thanks Ellen!), and today I had access to my room until 6:45. I gleefully crossed several items off off of my to-do list, and it was quarter to six before I knew it. All of a sudden the prospect of going home to do my evening chores and cook dinner seemed impossibly exhausting. I was out of gas and running on fumes. Just then there was a knock at the door.

"Will you need us to move the later class?" the building attendant politely asked.

"No thank you," I replied, then added, "Please, shoot me if I'm still here by then."

In MY School...

Let this post be the first of a series.

Almost every serious teacher fantasizes about the ideal school-- so much so that we often either end a rant and start a wistful conversation with Well, when I have MY school...

In 19 years I've had my fair share of such conversations, but one constant has always been that anyone who is going to require teachers to do something should themselves be an active teacher. Theory and practice diverge every day in the classroom, and I do not mean that as an excuse. I truly believe that our job is more than just a job and to understand it, you have to do it.

So much of what we have been tasked with lately is hoop-jumping and box-checking in the name of accountability, and while some ineffective teachers may be ferreted out, the rest of our students will be penalized, because the time we spend proving that we are spending our time well is time we are not spending on them.