A Fine Distinction

The counselor and her intern made their annual presentation on bullying yesterday. This activity changes from year to year because the intern designs it as part of the graduate program she or he is in. As such, it can be hit or miss, but from my observation, this year was a good one; all the students seemed to be engaged in the powerpoint and the activities. Several kids even asked me today if we were going to continue that conversation, which was a very good sign in that 1) they remembered what we were doing yesterday and 2) they actually wanted to keep going with it.

I, too, felt like I learned something yesterday. Talking with kids in a meaningful way about bullying can be really hard, because by sixth grade, they know all the right answers and what we want them to say. "Tell an adult," rolls off their tongues faster than they can pack their books and run out the door at the bell. Even so, no one wants to be a snitch, and it is rare that kids report mistreatment, even of themselves.

That's why the distinction that yesterday's presentation made was so powerful.

Snitching? That's telling to get someone in trouble.

Reporting? That's telling to help someone out of trouble.

Small Pleasures

If I had my way we'd never move our furniture. Well, okay, we really don't move our furniture, except for that time we did-- around 10 years ago. Even then we just did it to accommodate the larger couch we got, the one with the foot rest on my side, which I do enjoy, but I am still nostalgic for the other arrangement.

Fortunately for me, when it comes time to put up a Christmas Tree the foot rest part of the couch must be carried upstairs and the room put back the way it used to be. For one month out of the year, it's as if we never moved our furniture at all, and... we get a Christmas Tree!

Members Only

In theory, "homework club" seems like a splendid idea. Teachers volunteer ten afternoons a year to supervise an after school study hall for any student on the team who wants to come. As a result, every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday we can offer all the supplies and know-how it takes to assist any willing scholar in getting a good head start on homework.

They key word, however, is "willing." After a full day of schooling, it's tough for most kids to sit for another hour. Even the snack we provide can't get rid of the ants in their pants. Because many parents insist that their kids attend, half of these jittery kids are not there by choice anyhow.

As such, homework club can become an epic struggle. Take today, for example, when the three boys I was sitting with completed a combined total of 5 questions in the hour we had. You can be sure I used all the tricks and tools I had to get that much from them, but the time of day and the number of kids in the room was too distracting for them, and in the end we were all frustrated.

It wasn't without its lighter side, though. "Look!" one of the boys told me. "I finished all this!" He brandished a work sheet under my nose.

"When did you do that?" I asked him.

"Now!" he answered triumphantly. "And you said I wasn't working."

"Well," I said taking a closer look, "it seems like you kind of rushed through this."

"Nah uh," he said with a pout. "I read every one of those."

"Really? Then how come you answered True or False to all these questions? Your choices were A, B, and C!"

He gave me a big shrug and an embarrassed grin. "Oops."

Room of Requirement

There has been a fair amount of shenanigans in Tolerance Club in the last few weeks. Don't misunderstand me; it's not that I don't appreciate the kids who voluntarily show up for an hour after school each Monday, and it's not that I don't know that kids have a lot of pent-up energy after seven solid hours of schooling. Even so, the behavior of the group has become, well, intolerable.

It was with this in mind that we adult sponsors planned to spend the first half of our meeting today having the students re-establish group "norms."

(Actually, I would have preferred to call them "rules" or even "agreements," because the term "norm" brings with it a lot of freight, especially in respect to the imposition of questionable business models on education-- I'm talking to you PLCs. Take for example this definition: Norms keep a group functioning as a system instead of a collection of individuals. Um. Does anyone else recognize that as a line from a dystopian novel? No? Well it should be.)

But I digress. So, we had the students brainstorm a list of rules that they could agree to follow when they attended Tolerance Club. The first one was to treat each other with respect, and when pressed, they defined that as sharing supplies and listening when others spoke. The list went on, and seemed pretty comprehensive until someone wanted to add "Have fun" for number eleven.

A hand shot up. "But what if we can't have fun and follow these rules?"

"I don't know. Is having fun more important than being respectful?" I countered.

"Maybe," he shrugged mischievously.

"Erase having fun then," I said, and we did.

"Wait," another student interjected. "You don't want us to have fun?" she asked with more than a hint of indignation.

"Oh, we want you to have fun," I told her, "It's just not required."

Surprise Me

It's been a kind of a movie-book weekend: in addition to a Harry Potter marathon on TV, I've seen both Catching Fire and The Book Thief, two movies I was looking forward to after having read the books.

But while Potter rarely disappoints, the other two were a bit of a let down. Describing them as predictable seems a little unfair, since I had read the books, but I think that's the key. If you know the plot, then the movie has to deliver something that adds to the book. It might be the performances, the sets, or the special effects (points to the Harry Potter series for all of those), but there has to be something, otherwise what's the point?

Slip-slidin

Our Thanksgiving holiday is nearly over. A week ago we were gathering for the first meal of the holidays and a week from now, We'll be decorating our Christmas tree. When I was a child, time was like an endless sidewalk stretching between right now, half an hour, and way too long to imagine, but now it's more like wide stepping stones across a slow flowing river; we hop from one to the next to the next. To stop often means no more than to simply look back, amazed at how quickly we have progressed, how far we have come.

The Food Wheel

If Thanksgiving is orange and gold and brown, full of rich, traditional foods comforting and satisfying in their earthiness, then for our family, the next day is not Black Friday but rather Red Friday. For dinner on that day, we always have pasta with marinara and sausage, along with a salad with plenty of lemon and vinegar. It is a meal as acidic and tangy as Thanksgiving is warm and redolent, a complimentary feast of sorts-- especially when you put out those leftover desserts.