Impulsive Much?

I was at an IEP meeting yesterday for one of our students. In discussing her educational needs with the dad, her teacher mentioned that sometimes this particular student is unaware that she is talking out loud. The teacher gave an example of a time when she had redirected this student by specifically referencing what the girl had said and the student looked at the teacher in awe.

"How do you know that?" she asked her teacher. "Can you read my mind?"

Today at my team meeting, I had a similar experience. This was our last meeting of the year, and I was glad that the counselor could join us. Still, every person there had a million things on their to-do list, and one of us had to be downstairs in the gym in five minutes to play in the student-teacher basketball game.

I did my best to expedite the meeting, but when it came time for the counselor to talk, she offered a great activity to any teacher who had some time in these next two days. "I can't come to every class," she said, "But I'll come to the first one and do my spiel, and then you can take it from there."

Conversation followed, and the word "spiel" (pronounced "shpeel") was repeated over and over again like proverbial fingernails on the chalkboard as the science teacher and the counselor negotiated the implementation of this (very worthy) activity.

"Please don't say "spiel" anymore!" a voice interrupted, and in the surprised silence that followed, I realized it was mine. I had actually said it out loud.

"Spiel," said the counselor, "spiel, spiel, spiel!"

"So," added the science teacher, "when you come tomorrow to give your spiel..." she looked at me, "I'll listen carefully, so I can give the same spiel."

"If you don't like my spiel," the counselor answered, "then feel free to come up with your own spiel."

They continued unmercifully, and by the end of the meeting, we were all laughing hysterically.

Mascot

At our school, each of the grade-level teams has an animal name. Until last year, there were two teams for each grade-- the Dolphins and the Tigers, the Penguins and the Otters, and the Eagles and the Gators. Because our enrollment is growing, we knew last June that there would be three sixth grade teams. Of course, the teachers on the new team got to choose the name, but I was full of ideas, too. Well, mostly I wanted them to be called the Rays, because the team leader's last name was Ray, and in the end, they did choose the Stingrays as their name.

This year, the opportunity bumps up to seventh grade, where I have little to no influence. As such, I haven't given it much thought. Then, at lunch today, a few sixth graders were waiting for sign language club to begin in my room and I engaged them in conversation as we waited for the sponsors.

"So, what team do you guys want for next year?" I asked.

"Penguins!" several called.

"Otters!" many of the others shouted.

"Wait! Isn't there going to be a new team?" someone asked, but that's not what I heard.

I heard, "Isn't there going to be a Gnu team?" and all of a sudden, I had an opinion.

One of the teachers I regularly eat lunch with is going to teach science on that team next year. "Hey!" I barreled into the lunch room. I know just what your team should be called. "The Gnus!" I took a piece of chalk and wrote G-N-U on the board. "Get it?"

"I do now," she said, unimpressed.

Still, I persisted. "C'mon!" I said. "You'll always have good Gnus!"

"We'll always have bad Gnus, too," she laughed.

"What? Are you saying that no Gnus are good Gnus?" I asked.

And so we continued, amusing ourselves until the bell rang. Truthfully? I am not hopeful, but there's always next year, when the eighth grade will get a gnu team, too.

Get Out the White Shoes

As big movie fans, we have really been looking forward to this year's crop of summer films. We are partial to the Marvel Universe, so Iron Man 3 was definitely at the top of our list as the season approached, but May 3 just seemed tooooooo early for a classic summer blockbuster, so we skipped the crowds and decided to wait.

Since then, things have been pretty busy, and the movies have been a luxury we haven't had much time to afford. This afternoon, though, seemed like a perfect opportunity to head to the theater. The weather was warm and there is only one week to go before vacation,  so Iron Man 3 it was.

We were not disappointed. Welcome, Summer.

Population 1

As a blog writer I get a particular little thrill whenever I'm on this or that site or page and I see that they have a link to their blog. Just this morning I enviously read a few posts on Living the Dream @ Deer Run authored by the proprietors of a vegan, oceanfront bed and breakfast on Big Pine Key in Florida. It does seem aptly titled.

Also this morning I ran across a link to a blog by a former student of mine. Ben was in sixth grade in 1999 and I was eager to read his writing again. I was a little disappointed to find that the latest entry was dated 2009. There were some beautiful pictures of New Mexico, though.

Ben's blog made me wonder what will happen to all the millions of sites that people have started with the desire to express themselves to a wider, many times unknown, audience. Over the last couple of years, I've come to think of them as ghost blogs and sometimes, rather than be disappointed, I explore them for clues about what may have happened to their authors.

Some writers formally end their blogs; Vegan Dad eloquently called it quits on January 3, as did Patrick, on Duck Fat and Politics, after he was elected to local office. (Patrick is back now and blogging from Vermont, something I wouldn't have known if I weren't researching this post. Yay, Patrick!)

I couldn't say for sure, but it seems like most bloggers just stop. Maybe the itch has been scratched, maybe the scratch has taken a different form, or maybe the itch has been re-prioritized, but in my imagination? They all think that they will get back to it soon, perhaps tomorrow or maybe next week, but then time passes, and weeks turn into months, months to years, and they just haven't posted. Soon there are tumbleweeds blowing down main street, right past that saloon door squeaking mournfully in the wind.

See ya tomorrow!

Last Friday Night...

...before summer break officially begins!

(Sorry if you were expecting something more racy to go along with the Katy Perry reference.)

Throttle Up

Before we left for our trip this morning there was an announcement reminding all teachers to have their emergency procedures folder updated and handy. It was code for There's a possibility of a tornado. 

"Wouldn't that be ironic if a tornado hit the school and we were all okay because we went on the field trip?" I laughed as we pulled out of the parking lot.

Gallows humor prevailed as our brand-new charter coaches glided into the gathering storm. Five minutes from our destination, the sky became literally as dark as dusk, and thunder rumbled in the not very distant distance. Another teacher turned to me as lightening flashed. "I'm guessing no zip line?" he asked.

"No, but there might be a zap line," I answered.

Torrential rain followed, but it was mercifully brief and only a drizzle by the time we disembarked. The kids dashed to the cover of a white-tented deck that was quite obviously used for weddings. Our guides were prepared, though, and led the group through a couple of fun games. Still, as our 100 students roamed the area, challenging each other and pounding their fists to their palms, another of my colleagues came up to me. "They paid forty-five dollars to play rock-paper-scissors in a tent in Maryland?" she asked.

I laughed and shrugged. "Well, if you put it that way..." I raised my eyebrows, but just then one of the camp leaders announced that the storm had passed, the thunder was through, and adventures awaited.

And he was telling the truth. Despite the fact that our school system back home was pondering whether or not to close early, for the next 2 1/2 hours the kids had a blast, and they even got to ride the zap line.

Over the Rainbow

As if the end of the year is not stressful enough, tomorrow, the day of our team's big outdoor field trip, they are predicting EXTREME weather. Allow me to quote from the forecast:

Ingredients are coming together for a possible large outbreak of severe thunderstorms in the area Thursday, capable of producing damaging winds, multiple tornadoes, and flash flooding.

A complex of violent thunderstorms, some tornadic, may or may not coalesce into a derecho sometime this afternoon or evening. Late this afternoon and overnight some severe storms are possible as well, but Thursday’s severe weather risk is particularly serious.

To which the school system put out the following alert:

The National Weather Service has forecast severe weather in our area through Thursday. The forecast includes the possibility of thunderstorms and high winds. We are actively watching weather reports to stay up-to-date.

If an alert is given at any time during the day, schools and transportation will respond accordingly to ensure student safety. Schools may hold walkers if warranted until conditions improve.

If there is any change in operations or transportation due to the weather, families will be notified through School Talk.

As a result of all of these predictions, I spent the afternoon talking to stakeholders-- administration, adventure park, charter bus company, teachers, and parents, trying to figure out the best course of action. Around 5:30 I got a call from the AP telling me the ed center left it up to us to decide in the morning. "We'll put out a message to families advising them to have the students dress appropriately," she said.

"Good idea," I answered. "How about, 'Pack your ruby slippers kids! The field trip is a go!'?"