Corks and Pinecones

The weather here took a definite turn toward winter today, and I confess to a bit of a thrill as I lifted my fleece jacket from the hook by the door for the first time since April? Or maybe May. The blustery gray outside suggested an opportunity to build the first fire of the season, but it never quite delivered the requisite nip for such an event.

It did make me think back to years past, though. Early October is so variable here. My sister-in-law's birthday is the 2nd and so I considered some of the family dinners we have had for her. She usually prefers an autumn menu, and we have certainly had perfect cerulean blue sky days and cool evenings to compliment her requests, but there have also been years when I couldn't find a single leaf of color to adorn our table, and we've cranked the a/c to provide a little seasonal chill.

Who cares though? I like fall because it fits in perfectly with my homebody instincts. When the days turn short and cool, who isn't tempted to put on a big pot of soup and relax by the fire? Years ago, when our nephews were younger, fall was always a time we spent weekends together. We did fun pumpkin patch things, watched Scooby Doo, and roasted whatever we had on the fire.

And the fire? Well, to keep it burning bright we always made sure that we had plenty of kindling, like pine cones (that sap is amazing!) and wine corks. The boys were always more than happy to scavenge beneath the many Virginia Pines we have around here, stuffing bags with their flammable fruit. And I was equally happy to provide the corks. Believe me, it was never a hardship to open a bottle of wine.

Stepping Out

We're going to a wedding this evening. Anyone who knows me, knows I'm much more of a dress down than a dress up girl. Even so, I needed something appropriate to wear, so reluctantly I've spent some time over the last few weekends shopping.

At first it was discouraging-- nothing fit right, nothing looked right, and soon I began to dread the event at all. Luckily, a little online browsing yielded a promising result, and so tape measure in hand, I ordered a dress from Nordstrom.

When it arrived, I didn't even want to open it, but of course eventually I did, and I was verrrrry pleasantly surprised to find it a perfect fit, both for me and the occasion, even though it isn't anything like my usual style. In fact, this morning, Heidi was facetiming with her mom, and turned the camera to show her my dress. "Wow!" she said. "Did Tracey know it had all those sequins when she ordered it?"

How Great Thou Art

I love teaching sixth grade.

For most kids, it's the first time they are dipping their big toe into the big pool of life, and they love the independence. BUT... then there are those days when it seems much more fun to whisper with your friend about what happened at lunch than to talk about and actually do the assignment, and uh-oh, you are way to busy to catch up at home, and suddenly you are a few things behind and not sure what to do.

In the education we call that a teachable moment, but I think I've heard other people say, Give 'em enough rope and they'll hang themselves. Still, where I'm from we try not to hang the middle school children, even metaphorically.

Such an occasion is an opportunity. Can you solve this on your own? Should we involve your parents? How can we support you in being more successful? Most eleven-year-olds have never heard those questions, much less been asked them. They expect their teachers to be both instructors and enforcers, and that's convenient because if they don't get it? It's never their fault.

That's why we try to create an engaging, low stakes environment with clear accountability. Every student has more than one chance to succeed or fail, make an adjustment (with the support of their parents if necessary), and then try again. In such a classroom, consequence and punishment are not synonyms.

Tonight we received a forwarded email from our nephew's middle school English teacher. After describing the 2 assignments he had missing, it read, Today is the last day for my students to be able to make up zeroes, so he will have one hour in class to raise his grade. Please let me know if you have any questions. Have a great Friday!

Could that be more unrealistic? I mean face it-- their Friday is blown.

Where I'm From

My students are using George Ella Lyon's poem, Where I'm From as a mentor text this week. Lyons uses a montage of images to create a strong picture of her roots. The assignment allows the sixth graders to gather and select concrete details from their families' past and present and craft them into poems of their own.

As concrete as I try to make the task, it is extremely abstract at its core. "Where am I from?" students often ask in confusion. "My parents? The hospital? I don't get it!" We muddle through, though, and by the end, most get the idea.

This afternoon, we had a bit of excitement in the building. One of my student's mom went into labor in the girls room around the corner. Everything turned out okay-- the ambulance arrived before the baby was born-- but given the many conversations I had today, I laughed to think where that child might think she is from.

May You Live in Interesting Times

Some of my students from last year came back to pay me a visit. "How are the sixth graders this year?" they wanted to know.

"Oh they're really nice," I answered.

"But not as nice as we were, right?"

"Oh, they're pretty nice," I said, and they looked disappointed. "But I can promise you this," I added. "I don't have one single class that is quite as exciting as yours was."

They took it as a compliment.

Bueller? Anyone?

Here's how it is:

 Me: I'm having trouble scheduling the field trip for the day we wanted.

Colleague: Yay! Does that mean we can go somewhere else?

Me: Sure. We can go anywhere you want if you're willing to make some calls and set it up.

Colleague: So, what was the problem with the first place?

Revolving Door

I have no illusions that TV networks are working very hard to get my viewership. I have been marginalized all my life. First I was a child, then when I was 18-35, I wasn't male, and now? I'm just an old fogey who likes to watch one show a night before retiring early.

Perhaps it's my advanced age, but sometimes it can be jarring to see an actor who was formerly a regular on one of your favorite shows cast as a new character on another. It happened last season on Law and Order: SVU-- when Christopher Meloni left (and joined the cast of True Blood, which I don't watch) Danny Pino from Cold Case and Kelli Giddish from Chase (both of which I did watch, until they were canceled) joined the show.

Then, just the other night on this season's premier who should appear but Paget Brewster, whose character Emily Prentiss just left Criminal Minds, and Adam Baldwin who was Casey on Chuck.

Ay yi yi! "This can't continue," I said to Heidi. "One of those two is the culprit. The other might stay."

And, may I say? I was correct.

But I still don't like it.