Worth Counting

Before they packed up all their pencils and binders for good, last week I asked my students to calculate how many pages and books they had read since September. It's an annual tradition, and sixth graders almost always find their numbers amazing; it's as if they had no idea they were capable of such achievement.

This year students in my classes read an average of exactly 5,200 pages each, with a high of 19,456 and a low of 1,001. On average they finished 26 books a piece. Compared to the past, it was not a stellar year, but the requirement is only 3,800 pages, and they surpassed that by 37%. In addition, I would say the figures show that these kids as a group were workers: very few failed to meet or surpass the minimum expectation.

As an interesting frame of reference, I had one student who read nothing but the Harry Potter series. Her numbers? 4,194 pages, and 7 books, of course.

Fair Trade

I finished up at school a little earlier than Heidi today, and so I sat quietly in my classroom and waited. It was all packed up for the summer-- all surfaces clear and bookshelves neatly wrapped in white butcher paper. The blinds were drawn to conserve energy, and I was still enough to fool the motion sensors into turning the lights off.

As I sat in the silence of the cool dim room, I calculated how much time I had actually spent there. Added all together it came out to over three solid years. No wonder I feel so much ownership of it; thank goodness I feel so happy there; it's hardly surprising that it's always a little bittersweet to leave for summer break.

A couple days ago, one of the students asked me how big my garden was. I thought for a moment, and looked around. "It's almost exactly the same size as this room!" I told her. We were both kind of impressed by that. This afternoon, I remembered that conversation, this time as I stood in my garden, puttering around on the first day of summer vacation.

Consensus is Over-rated

This is the time of year for educators that practically demands reflection and reminiscing.  Students move forward; colleagues retire or move on: everything seems to rush to so many endings. At the party I attended yesterday I stood with three other women as they remembered their earlier days in other schools. One told the story of a principal who, faced with the choice of adopting an earlier start time for the school or sticking with the status quo, called a staff meeting and asked for a show of hands. When the earlier time was the clear winner, she shrugged and said, "Well, I'm going to make an executive decision. We're staying with 9:05."

And that was it.

GST: Garden Standard Time

Our end-of-the-year party was held this afternoon at the home of a colleague. After all the speeches and tears for our beloved retiree, folks stood chatting in small groups, I with our hostess. At noon today, our area was the hottest spot in the country, but a few hours later that back yard looked very inviting, plus I wanted to pay a visit to my tomato plants. "Can I see your garden?" I asked at a lull in the conversation.

It was a popular request. Eight of us stepped out into the still very warm late afternoon shade. Turning to our right, we started at 5 and made our way counter clockwise around the serpentine line of garden beds that hug her straight fence. Roses, lavender, thyme, hostas, peony, lilac, day lily, peas and beans, tomatoes, peppers, lettuce, basil, salvia, delphinium, echinacea, butternut squash, zucchini, cucumber, and cilantro brought us back around to 6 o'clock, which it was, so I made my farewells and headed home.

Crowd Control

What to do with three days left in the school year when all your students know that their final grades were due yesterday? Hmmm...

Well, you might find yourself, a bit shrilly but also with convincing authority, informing them that, Those grades were submitted with the expectation that you would continue or exceed your present level of academic performance!

And you conceivably could add (nonchalantly, but with crossed arms to accompany your shrug), I would more than happy to march down to guidance and making any changes necessary.

And then? Wide-eyed compliance would probably be yours.

Mostly.

Happy Week

Nothing like the last week of school to galvanize everyone into trying to fit everything in. Just today, there was a baby shower and then a happy hour after school. Wednesday will be the end-of-the-year staff party. Thursday is another after school gathering for a friend who is moving on to another school, and then Friday night there's a dinner for our retiring assistant principal.

I do believe my dance card is full.

Good Deed for the Day

At 10 am the place where I like to get my coffee was packed, which was hardly surprising on a beautiful Sunday morning. We had set out on our errands early, but there were still two more stops to make. After circling twice without finding parking, I dropped Heidi at the door and continued the circuit. My next trip around I saw that she had run into a former student's parent and they were deep in conversation, as they were the next time and the next time, too. I was on the back stretch of my third or fourth lap when a man on the street called through my open window. "Excuse me, ma'am? Are you looking for a parking space?" Across the way Heidi was still yakking, so I nodded. "Well," he said, "our car won't start. If you have jumper cables and you're willing to help, you can have the spot when we're through."

I assured him that I was willing to help whether I got the space or not, but he and his wife flagged off many would-be parkers as we pushed the car out, and I made a three-point turn to face it on the street. He made quick work of the jump start as his wife stood resolutely in the spot. As he wound up the cables and put them back in their bag, their six-year old daughter presented me with a micro bouquet of flowers she'd gathered from the grassy strip along the sidewalk while we worked.

Once I pulled into the space, they waved their thanks and drove away with a cheerful wave. Before I could get out, the passenger side door opened. "Let's go," Heidi said. And we did, leaving the parking space to the lucky driver that happened to come along next.