Incognito No More

I was walking back to school from an appointment off-campus this afternoon just a little while after the dismissal bell, and several students passed me going in the opposite direction. Perhaps it was my sunglasses, or perhaps it was their eagerness to begin an afternoon of freedom, but I strode forward in seeming anonymity until at last one eighth grade girl who had been in my homeroom two years ago turned around a half a block away from me and shouted my name. I turned, and the smile on her face was so sweet that I lifted my shades, smiled back, and waved.

It is nice to be known.

Do My Dreaming and My Scheming

The other day, as I was invigilating the state math test for my students, I took a moment to do a calculation of my own. Pacing the classroom to ensure prompt attention for any calculator-computer-or-other issue, I considered how much time I had actually spent in that very room.

I set up shop there in August of 1994. Based on a conservative estimate of six and a half hours a day, 170 days per year, with a little rounding, I came up with about three years.

Three years! Five percent of my life had been spent within those four walls.

I gave myself a little half-smile then, a private snicker, and thanked the stars that most days? Were nothing like that day. 

Public Storage

In the classic 1985 film, Pee Wee's Big Adventure, the protagonist's bike is stolen, an event which precipitates a nationwide road trip in search of his wayward wheels. Somewhere along the way, Pee Wee gets information that the thieves have stashed his purloined bicycle in the basement of the Alamo, so he heads to San Antonio.

There he joins a tour led by the late, great Jan Hooks, who insists that all questions be held until the end. Hand on hip, Pee Wee taps his foot throughout her windy narration and tries several times to get around the guideline so that he can pose his single inquiry. "Where's the basement?" he finally blurts out at the end of the tour.

Hooks giggles dismissively. "The Alamo doesn't have a basement!" she tells him.

I thought of that scene today as I scouted the Tidal Basin for scavenger hunt-worthy locations. Of course I made my way up the stairs to the rotunda of the Jefferson Memorial. To be honest, although we walk there quite often, I can't recall the last time I made that climb since dogs are not welcome up the stairs.

Imagine my surprise, then, to discover that the Jefferson does have a basement. Complete with two gift shops, a short movie, and a couple small exhibits, I saw the whole place in a little over five minutes.

Sorry Pee Wee, your bike isn't there either!

Simple Machine

Three weeks ago we were in Atlanta celebrating my sister's birthday and three weeks from today we will be on summer vacation. 

Now that's a fulcrum!

It Just Seems Wrong

Today was the last of two state-mandated standardized tests for our sixth grade students. At 54 questions it took the quickest child one hour and forty minutes and the last was still testing 15 minutes before the dismissal bell; she clicked "submit" five and a half hours after she logged in.

Really?

It All Comes Together

"He should get a Newbury for this!" one of my students exclaimed. "A Newbury!"

"What are you reading?" asked the guy to his left.

"This profile that Anuj wrote about me," the first student answered. "He. is. a. genius!"

S Minus Twenty- three

There have been school years past where the students honestly did not know when summer vacation (or any other break for that matter) actually began. when that happens, it is actually no problem to teach almost up to the end, filling the last weeks and days with sweet activities that bring the term to a satisfying close.

This year is not one of those. Returning to class after a sultry three day weekend that quite publicly kicks off the summer season was kind of challenging. Not that the kids were rude or mean-spirited, or anything of that nature. Nope, their collective sixth-soon-to-be-seventh-grade brain was simply focused elsewhere, and to be honest? I found it hard to blame them.