Stymied

When the handle broke off the top of my grill last fall, I worked around it on the few occasions that I cooked out once the weather turned cold. But it soon became clear that the big, fire-proof gloves I have were simply too clumsy to use indefinitely.

Upon that realization, the first thing I did was search for a new top on eBay. I thought I was being clever, although the thought of that domed piece of steel heading for a landfill did give me pause. Not to worry, though, because it was impossible to find what I wanted out there in the internets... Maybe other folks have less of a compunction than I, or maybe those are just some long-lasting grills.

Next I researched some local welders, convinced that they might reattach that errant handle with a wee drop of soldering, but the job seemed to small for me to bother them with once I got a sense of their mighty pricing.

I'm not sure when it occurred to me that a drill, a couple of screws and some wing nuts would solve my problem, but when it did? I made that repair myself in under 15 minutes for a dollar.

Empty Nest

Could it be that an entire year of college has passed and Josh has returned to Hershey for the summer?

It seems so.

A Thousand Words

"Ugh!" I said when I saw the screen saver one of my students had chosen for his iPad. "What is that?"

"It's cool!" He told me as we looked at a super close-up of a sneering, very pierced and very, very tatooed individual.

I shrugged. It's not my business what the kids put on their devices as long as it's not inappropriate for school. I know my taste and their taste may be quite different, and that's okay, so I try not to judge. This time, I slipped.

"You don't like it?" he asked rhetorically, for it was pretty clear to both of us that I did not.

"I'd just like to see something a little more wholesome for you," I told him honestly. He's a kid that's had some trouble this year– super smart, but tough home life, and he doesn't always make good choices, and he has been defiant and oppositional at times.

He frowned. "What does that mean?" But before I could say, his face brightened. "Wholesome? W-H-O-L-E-S-O-M-E?" he asked. I nodded. "I've seen that word! I know it's good, but I'm not sure how."

"Look it up," I suggested. "You have your iPad."

He did so eagerly, and then scanned the Google definition: good, ethical, moral, clean, virtuous, pure, innocent... Then he clicked on Images at the top of the same search screen and quickly scrolled through, selecting one, screen-shotting it, and replacing the wallpaper on his iPad in under 30 seconds with a picture of the penguins from Happy Feet.

"How's this?" he asked.

I gave him a thumbs up. "I like it."

Times Have Changed

I was talking with a colleague at lunch today about her daughter who is a 4th grader at a nearby elementary school. Some boys have been picking on the little girl, one of them since kindergarten. My friend has the ears of the teacher, the counselor, and the principal, which is a perk of being a longtime resident, a well-thought-of teacher, and an extrovert.

There are a few other social issues with her daughter as well, these involving a mean girl and a best friend who has never been in the same class. "I told them that I want some changes for next year," she said today, and I know she does; certainly every parent wants their children to be happy, especially at school, but as an educator my thoughts turned to the practical considerations of parent requests and parent demands.

In trying to reconcile the personal and the professional, our conversation made me think back to when I was in elementary student. In those days in our town we found out who our teachers were on a day in late August when the classes were published in the local newspaper. I remember that my mom was always glad when my best friends were not in my classes.

I wondered if it was the times or the situation that was different, and I asked my friend. "I get the bullying thing, but did your mom ever ask the school to change any of your classes so you would be with your friends?"

She was silent. 

Good to Know

There's a teacher on our team this year who moved from 6th grade to 7th five years ago, and after a one year stint in 6th again, next year she's going back to 7th. She brings a fresh perspective to our team meetings, for she has worked elsewhere in the building with other colleagues and older kids.

For example, today we spent a big chunk of time grappling with the case of a boy who tells his parents he is desperately unhappy at school, which is why he is not doing his homework, yet at school, he appears to be fine.

Fine with the exception of tearing up any time he is confronted about being ill-prepared for class. That is unusual for most of our students. "Oh," our colleague shrugged, "he's probably just advanced. Seventh grade boys cry way more than most sixth graders. But by the time they get to eighth grade?" She shrugged again. "They never shed a tear."

Good Betty Beth

April 15 happens to be the birthday of one of Heidi's closest friends. These days, Beth lives with her husband and two daughters on the campus of a private boarding school not far from Princeton, and we see them when we can. Years ago, Heidi started calling her "Betty," and the nickname lives on, but only for Heidi and those of us who know Beth through her.

Beth has a thing about giraffes, and so when we saw a birthday card with a giant, goofy one on the front along with the caption Do I wish you a happy birthday? the purchase was a no brainer, especially when we opened it up to read You bet giraffe I do! So a few days before tax day, Heidi signed the card for both of us, addressed it, and dropped it in the mail.

I was teaching my class about a week later when the secretary knocked on the door. "I just received a strange message for you," she reported. "A woman named Betty at some school in New Jersey received a birthday card from you, but she says it's not for her." I frowned in confusion. "She says it was addressed 'To my friend Betty' but she doesn't know you, and it's not her birthday. She said it was a cute card, though!" I thanked her and went back to the lesson, and was in the middle of giving instructions when it occurred to me what had happened. I mentioned the mix-up to Heidi a little later and after a laugh, we both promptly forgot it.

Until today, that is, when we got this email:

Good morning,Tracey and Heidi,

A few weeks ago a birthday card arrived at our school, signed by you and addressed to "My Friend Betty" followed by the school address. The woman in our Tech Department, also named Betty, received the card, but didn't know either of you so she sent it my way....

I am not sure I know you either and there is no other Betty at our school, so here I am contacting you....

Did you intend for this to go to someone else, perhaps...??? Just trying to solve the mystery....I loved the card by the way, but my birthday was in January....

And so I replied to her message with the true identity of the intended recipient, and a request that she pass the card along, which she promised she would. I can't wait to hear from our Betty when she finally gets it!

Today

So my fitness app has me thinking... what if every day really were like today?

This day, the weather was nearly perfect, but I was busy at school and barely got to enjoy it. My phone tells me I broke even, but I don't think so. If I had a do-over, I'd definitely make some adjustments.

When I was in high school we read Zorba the Greek, and for some reason Kazantzakis struck a chord with our group of 17-year-old girls. More than one of my friends chose a quotation from the book as their yearbook caption. His words have stayed with me, too.

While experiencing happiness, we have difficulty in being conscious of it. Only when the happiness is past and we look back on it do we suddenly realize - sometimes with astonishment - how happy we had been.