Knee High on the Fourth of July

I spent the morning in my garden catching up on the chores I've neglected in the last two busy weeks and also getting it ready for us to be away a week. With the exception of a lot of weeds, things looked pretty good. We've had tons of rain lately, which was helpful to both vegetables and weeds. When we were children, our Aunt Harriett always used to explain away summer thunderstorms as Jesus bowling with the angels. Well, somebody was throwing a lot of strikes last night, and there was torrential rain to go along with the boomers. Fortunately, the storm did no damage to the garden, but it did make the ground super soft, so pulling all those weeds was pretty easy.

The wet soil also gave me confidence that the tomatoes, peppers, squash, cucumbers, okra, watermelon, and corn will be okay until I return. Another thing Aunt Harriett used to tell us as we barreled along country roads in the summer, the windows of her white station wagon wide open to the warm, humid air, was about the corn in the green blur of the fields we passed. "Everything's fine, if it's knee high by the fourth of July!"

I guess everything's going to be fine.

Hard Bargaining

I saw a funny exchange between our almost 15-year-old nephew, Kyle, and his mom on Facebook the other day. Kyle posted a picture of a new Ford pick-up with the message, Let's negotiate. 

His mom replied, haha, and then posted a picture of a vintage station wagon, royal blue with three sets of seats. Possibly, she added.

Their bantering went back and forth from there and was both amusing and contagious, so much so that I felt the need to participate. I'll chip in if you make the honor roll, I wrote. 

To which his mother quickly replied, For the station wagon, right Aunt Tracey? 

I giggled as I typed, You're the boss!

Breaking Eggs

What better way to kick off the first afternoon of summer vacation but with a showing of the highest opening-weekend grossing movie ever? Yes, we saw Jurassic World a little while ago. I'm not sure what I expected, but I didn't love the movie. The first half filled me with dread and anxiety; the impending doom was palpable. Once the action started, the second half was a little better, but the body count, both human and reptilewas disturbing to me.

I guess I'm getting too old for that kind of stuff. As ambivalent as I was, halfway through, Heidi leaned over and hissed in my ear. "I hate this movie!"

On the way home, we talked about the movie, as we always do. "I guess the violence was as low key as possible," I said. "They clearly wanted to keep it a family film."

Heidi shrugged, unconvinced.

"And, they were mindful that some people would sympathize with the dinosaurs, so they kind of minimized their injuries, too," I added.

Another shrug.

"I think it's like, if you want to bake a cake, you're going to have to break some eggs, and if you want to make Jurassic World, you're going to have to kill a few people and dinosaurs."

Page Turners

As I do every year, I had my students calculate how many pages they read and books they finished for the year. This year was a pretty good one-- my kids read over a half-million pages combined and together they finished 2,387 books. That's an average of 7,342 pages per person and 33 books.

Impressive! 

Moving Forward

Tomorrow's the last day of school and we have an early release schedule that allows just 24 minutes with each class before we bid them a fond farewell. It will be bittersweet, as always, for I have grown attached to my students, and when all is said and done, I will miss them. Even though they will be in the building next year, it will never be the same again, and that's kind of sad.

The last few years I have filled the time in my empty classroom by watching one of the high school graduations on local access TV as I clean and pack for the summer. It started when my nephew graduated and I tuned in to see him receive his diploma. So many familiar faces crossed the stage as I waited for him to be called, and seeing these former students six years later, grown up and ready to head out into the world, made it a little bit easier to say good-bye to the kids who would be boarding their buses in a little while.

The Rap of Merciless Madge

One of the best things about teaching sixth grade is that once they get to know you? Those kids are pretty sure you can do anything! And to be honest, they're not that hard to impress.

Why, just yesterday on the bus the boys across from me were making rhymes of each other's names. When they noticed me watching them curiously they were only too happy to explain. "We're making raps!"

"Cool!" I told them and turned back to my book.

"Can you make one Ms. S?" they called across the aisle.

"Um," I hesitated, because, really? The answer was rightfully No, but I felt compelled to try.

"Do CJ!" They suggested.

 "OK, give me a minute." I considered the rhymes and took a deep breath.

My name is CJ--
I'll be your DJ.
Listen to what I say
'cause I know the right way
and if you are a hater?
You don't have to be that way!

Their jaws dropped only a moment before they started to clap.

#TBH

When I was in school the coveted spot on the bus was always the way back, and I can tell you from personal experience that things haven't changed much since then. I suppose it's developmentally appropriate for some adolescents to try and get as far away from the presence of authority as possible, but these days, when I'm riding the bus? The authority is in the back.

That's how it was this afternoon on the hour-long ride back to school from our end-of-the-year field trip destination. The field trip itself had been a mixed experience; some parts of it were better than others, but in general the kids around me were happily settled in with their phones as we pulled out of the marina.

"To be honest," I heard the girl in front of me say, "you're a little weird."

"To be honest," said the girl next to her, "you're sort of a b--"

"Hey now!" I interrupted. Leaning over the seat I could see they were not talking to each other, but rather to a third girl's phone. "What are you doing?" I asked them.

"Oh," answered the first girl, "it's a joke! He knows we're kidding." She noted my raised eyebrows. "OK! We'll erase it and only say nice things. " She handed the phone back to its owner.

That girl framed her face on the screen and punched the red button. "To be honest," she said, "you're nice, but we've faded."

"To be honest," I said, "I don't want you playing that game anymore."

"It's not a game," I was informed. "It's an Instagram thing."

"Fine," I replied. "Don't do it."

"But we have faded," she said. "We're not as close as we were."

"And you want to put that on Instagram?" I asked. "That doesn't seem very nice."

"OK!" Yet another student joined the conversation. "We will only say nice things. Promise!"

"Like what?" I inquired.

She shrugged. "Like, 'You're pretty'!"

"Why does it have to be about someone's looks?" I asked. "Why not, 'You're a good friend' or 'You're really smart' or 'I like spending time with you, because you're funny'?"

They were unconvinced. "No one says those things!"

"To be honest," I answered, "maybe they should!"