Economy of Energy

Shout out to Sonic dog who figured out there was really no reason to climb all the way out of the pool after fetching the tennis ball-- if you wait on the stairs, someone will toss it again so that you can do what you came for... swimming.

Others may briefly soar, but plugging away offers its own rewards.

School v. Learning

Say what you will about NPR, but whether or not I always agree with them editorially, over the years I have learned a lot from public radio. Today alone is an excellent example. Within 20 minutes this morning, I understood the concept that art is something that puts off more energy than went into making it, and I was also introduced to the narrative structure of Leonard Bernstein's second symphony, Age of Anxiety. Whoa.

As a (okay, sometimes jaded) person of letters, I found these insights into those other arts, visual and music, very instructive, but it was only a few hours later that I was thoroughly schooled in the themes and writing of Ken Kesey in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, a novel I thought I was pretty familiar with.

Educators today are fond of saying that we want our students to become life-long learners, but like so many things in public policy, what we mean by that lofty phrase is not always clear. Earlier this week I wrote about the joy of vicariously experiencing my students' ah-ha moments.

Today I had a few of my own.

That's what we're talking about.

Or You'll Sink Like a Stone

My students waded in for their first dip into our electronic community today. In the years that I have been using this online mix of formal and informal writing opportunities with my sixth graders the response of any given group has been unpredictable.

When my colleague and I created and introduced "Write Here Write Now" to our students on a Friday seven years ago only to log in and find a staggering 1000+ posts the next day we were stunned, but we buckled in for the ride and it was one of the most rewarding years of my career in terms of student engagement and growth.

Of course times and technology have changed a lot since then, and being able to communicate remotely with friends is no longer novel for your average 11-year-old, as a student reminded me today when I mentioned that they could use WHWN to write to classmates anytime, anywhere.

"Why would we do that?" she wondered (quite politely). "Don't we have phones?"

Six Degrees

The other day a young colleague stopped me at the copy machine. "Hey!" she said, and it was clear that she had something she really wanted to tell me.

"Hey!?" I answered expectantly.

She took a breath. "Let me go back. How are you?"

I laughed in appreciation of her manners. I am, after all, her elder. "Fine. And you?"

"I was at a comic convention this weekend," she started.

"Oh yeah, I read about that," I told her. "How was it?"

"Fun!" she continued. "I was a volunteer, and I met another girl who was volunteering, too. We started talking and I told her I teach in Arlington. She asked where, and when I named our school she said that she went here!"

I nodded, following along.

"And then she asked if you were still here," she reported breathlessly. "She didn't even have to think about your name! She knew you right away!"

I gave a little ta da look. "Who was it?" I asked.

When she mentioned the name, I remembered this former student immediately, too. She was one of the kids from my very first year of teaching who used to hang out in my room after school that year. Later, she and some of her friends were volunteer helpers in my summer school classrooms for several years. I had lost track of her, but it was great to reconnect, even once removed.

Today I sent her a message on Facebook:

Hey! KB told me she ran into you at the Comic Convention last weekend, so you know I'm still doing

exactly
the
same
thing

twenty years later.

Fortunately, I still like it. Your class must have broken me in well.

I hope all is well with you! Stay in touch.

I hope she will.

BSN Fantasies

Having just finished my 21st back-to-school night I arrived home with mixed emotions. Relief, certainly, that it was over, and happy, because it was kind of fun seeing former parents, some who have become old friends; I've been at my school long enough to have established a history.

Once again, though, I was mostly disappointed in my presentation. It's very hard to distill a year of English into a ten-minute presentation. I always feel like I have been long-winded and worse, boring. Every year I vow to find the perfect way to convey the essence of my class in a witty and enjoyable nine minutes, leaving just enough time for questions.

Or perhaps, applause?

Maybe next year.

I Don't Know How She Swallowed a Cow

Part of the fun of teaching is seeing the light in someone's eyes when they understand something completely new. I will never grow tired of that moment. In sixth grade there are many such opportunities; one of the reasons I enjoy that age is because in most kids, it is really the transition year between childhood and the next step, and so they are primed for paradigm shift-- something during our time together will totally blow their minds. It might be as simple as opening a combination lock for the first time or having the privilege of walking down the hall not in a single-file line, but it's not an exaggeration to say that these tiny events open their eyes to a new world only before imagined-- you can take the double-takes to the bank.

I have twins in my homeroom this year who are in our school's life skills program. The 20 minutes we spend together each morning is an opportunity for them to interact with kids outside their program, even though they are behind their peers cognitively, socially, and emotionally. Tuesday is a reading day, and I have books of all levels in my classroom. This morning I gave one of the girls a copy of There Was an Old Woman who Swallowed a Fly.

It was before most of the other kids had arrived and she began to read it out loud. Her decoding skills were very good, and it was soon clear that she was comprehending what she read as well. What was also clear was that this was a totally new story to her and her sister. Their shock and amusement as the story progressed was charming. They had no idea how it would end. She swallowed a spider? She ate a cat?! Imagine that! 

Their enthusiasm and appreciation completely revived what I considered to be kind of a dumb story; I will never again hear about that silly old woman without a little giggle.

Time Marches On

I laughed about our culinary disagreement the other night, but to be honest, I totally got where Heidi was coming from. She was not yet ready to give up our bright summer cuisine, and so it should be no surprise that her menu was the one we went with that night.

Since then we have continued our hang-on to summer approach to eating with eggplant and tomato last night, zucchini tomato and pasta tonight, and gumbo on the menu for tomorrow. I'm doing my best to work in the transition to fall, though; this crisp weather practically demands it. We had a crunchy little roasted butternut squash julienne garnish on our salads the other night, and it's kale and apple salad tonight.

So be it.