Where is Everybody?

I glanced out my classroom window at around 4:15 this afternoon. The parking lot was deserted, save for my trusty station wagon parked in the back corner. Embracing the rare quiet in a building usually buzzing with the business of over eight hundred souls, I cleaned my desk and set out all I needed for our first early morning back at school, nine days from today. Then I packed my things, headed out into the incredible 80 degree afternoon, and turning my face to the sun, I welcomed spring break and emptied that parking lot.

Old School

We took a traditional approach to learning poetry vocabulary today when my students made personal flash cards. Sure, in a nod to the 21st century we used neon index cards, but the only cutting and pasting took place with scissors and glue. When everyone was done, I provided a handy sandwich bag for each to store the cards. This, many found confusing. "How do I close this?" was the question of the day, and I demonstrated how to tuck in the top and pull the folded part over many times to much amazement.

"I think we're seeing the future!" one student marveled.

Rare Bird

I got a new student the other day. She's been on our team all year, but only just transferred to my class at the beginning of the fourth quarter, so I know her, but not well. Today on our field trip, she beckoned me over to the bird feeder outside the window of the nature center. "Isn't that a female brown-headed cowbird?" she asked.

As a bit of an amateur birder myself, I happened to know that it was. "Her mate was here yesterday," I told her, "I bet he shows up soon."

He took his time, but while we waiting she correctly identified a white-breasted nuthatch, a tufted titmouse, a Carolina chickadee, a downy woodpecker, and a red breasted woodpecker. "My mom loves birds," she explained. Later, as the naturalist was giving his talk, she caught my eye and nodded to the window. It was the male cow bird at last.

When our group headed outside for the next part of the program we stood in the lacy shadows of towering leafless trees. High above us, birds darted from branch to branch and the air was full of chirps and whistles. One four note trill sounded above the rest, and her eyes got wide. "Isn't that a blue jay?" she asked. 

It sure was, and rare is the sixth grader who could tell you so.

Silly Me

I told my students this morning that over Spring Break we were going to put the poetry challenge on hold and go back to slice-of-life. They were a little disappointed, but before I could explain my reasoning that I wanted to be able to clarify some of the poetry forms and terms in class as we go, someone's hand shot up.

"I know why you're doing that!" he blurted out. "It's so you can keep in touch with us over break, and know what we're doing, right?" His classmates nodded in understanding.

It's so cute that they think that. It reminds me of when Josh was a little boy. We were getting ready to go on vacation and were talking about the pet sitter. "Maybe when you're older, you can stay at the house and take care of the cats and dog," I said to him. "We would pay you and everything. I bet you would be the best pet sitter ever!"

At first he thought it sounded like a great idea, easy money, but then his face fell and his brow furrowed. "But wait," he said, "won't I be on vacation with you?"

Spring Break Fever

Monday is done; Tuesday and Wednesday I'm on a field trip, Thursday and Friday are planned and ready to go.

The countdown is on!

Protective Clothing

Browsing through a catalog this morning, I came across a garment described as a "smock." The very word transported me back to elementary school where, every year for art, we were asked to bring in an old shirt of our dads' to use as a smock. I could remember pulling on the over-sized garment that somehow still smelled like my father, my classmates and I a tiny, clownish white-collar work force. The buttons were always a struggle, and the sleeves dangled far below my hands; the cuffs were uncontrollable, dragging through the tempera paint and on to the paper as if they had an artistic vision of their own. At the end of class, having done their diligent duty, the spattered shirts went back on the hook or into the cubby, neglected until next time. By the end of the year they must have been a work of art themselves, but I couldn't tell you what happened to them once that final school bell rang in June.

This Is Just to Say

Today's poetry challenge is to write a parody of William Carlos William's beloved poem. Here are a couple of my favorites, (written on a Saturday, no less!):

This is just to say
by Andrew

I have destroyed
planet Earth
that was in
the Milky Way

and which you were probably
planning
to live on
with the rest of your species

Forgive me
(but if you were more advanced)
your planet would not be
so burnt
and so dead.

********************

This is Just to Say
by Carlos

I threw away
your ticket
that was on
your desk

and which you were
planning to use to go to Wrestle Mania
this Sunday in the
Mercedes Superdome in New Orleans

Forgive me
but if you put it in a safe place
this wouldn't happen

So now you gotta watch it in T.V.