Makes the Dream Work

We are implementing a new writing program this year, and it has been haaaard work. The upside is that I agree with the philosophy, which makes a mandate considerably less onerous, but it is really hard to tailor one's teaching to somebody else's vision (especially after 23 years!). Still, I soldier on, and it is a blessing to be working in this endeavor with a colleague I like and respect. (Hi Mary!)

I thanked my lucky stars for her yesterday when I was suffering from a crisis of faith and feeling overwhelmed and unsuccessful. After giving me a little pep talk, we talked through our plan for today, and she created a crucial piece of the lesson.

AND... I was happy to return the favor this afternoon when following a great lesson, I was able to clearly see the road ahead and talk her through it.

Now that's a collaborative learning team.

Holiday Mash-up

A Jewish friend of mine has a birthday tomorrow.

In all her years, she told me recently, her birthday has never coincided with Yom Kippur. "They're both great," she said, "but I'm not really excited about it."

"Really?" I asked her. "What's not exciting about the words Happy Birth Day of Atonement?"

Ten Miles

There is no upside to losing your dog, but Heidi and I agreed that in the time before we get another puppy, we will try to do things we might have otherwise skipped because they didn't make sense to do with a dog. So it was in that spirit that late this morning we set off on a walk from our house to Old Town Alexandria, about 3 1/2 miles away.

It was a perfect fall day, and once there we had brunch and shopped our way down to the river and back. We told ourselves we would Uber home if we needed to, but in the end we just kept on going, and in 22,000 steps, all told, we were back home.

Leftovers

"What are we going to have for dinner tonight?" Heidi asked a little earlier.

I paused to think about it a minute. "I don't know," I shook my head. "I already cooked everything yesterday!"

Small Plates

The day dawned gray and rainy, but honestly? I didn't care! It was the first day of a long weekend and I had plans to do some serious cooking-- tonight was Emily's family birthday party. I chopped and diced and seared and braised and blended and baked and steamed and pureed and strained and whisked and sliced and stewed and finally, when the rain let up, charred my way merrily through the day before sitting down at the table with Heidi and Emily and Bill and Victor to a very nice meal, if I do say so myself.

Small Plates Menu:

Warm Olives

Feta

Moroccan Yogurt Dip with Cilantro

Ciabbata and Pita Chips

Beet Carpaccio with Dill and Walnuts

Charred Octopus with Potato Pepper Puree and Tapenade

Braised Lamb Shank with Mustard Marscapone Sauce

Seared Tuna Shawarma with Pickles, Turnips, and Tahini 

Rice and Lentil Pilaf with Currants

Stewed Green Beans

Roasted Cauliflower

Dessert:

Baklava Cheesecake

Pistachio Toffee Chocolates

Small Moment

The interpreter arrived a little early for my next conference, and since there was nobody else in my room, I invited him in to wait. He was a friendly guy; introducing himself as Julio, he walked around the perimeter of my classroom as if it were a gallery.

"Look for small moments?" he read from an anchor chart, and then gazing up he read from the banner above, "How can we become better writers?"

"I love writing," he told me, "and this is good advice. There is so much meaning in the small moments."

I nodded agreeably, "That's what I tell the students."

"Do you mind if I take a picture?" he asked.

"Not at all," I answered.

He moved to a poster with an Ethiopian proverb. "When spider webs unite," he read, "they can tie up a lion!" He snapped another photo and turned to me. "What a fantastic message for your students! Small things together create greatness."

"Thanks, Julio!" I replied.

Next he read the series of posters from the Academy of American Poets that hang over the bookshelves in my room. Each April the organization releases a new one in honor of National Poetry month. "Nature is a haunted house," he read as he clicked another picture, "but art is a house that wants to be haunted."

"Emily Dickinson," I said.

"Wonderful!" he said. "It goes perfectly with the small things and small moments idea. Think how many miracles we overlook every day! You are teaching your students to stop and notice them, to see all the miracles all around them!"

Am I? I wondered and looked at another quote I had scribbled nearby.

Hope is a thing with feathers.

Da Nada

I admit that I was a little cranky this afternoon as I waited well after my contract hours for my first conference of the year. The halls were deserted and the light from the sinking sun was slanting into the west-facing windows when my student and her mom tapped on the door.

The fact is, teachers often suffer from a lack of professional respect. If I can't find a convenient time within the office hours of my doctor, lawyer, accountant, or dog groomer that works with the hours of my job, then I must take time off. If it's important, then I do. But teachers are often not afforded the same professional courtesy. We are frequently guilted into over-committing our own time because it is what's best for the students. And sometimes it undeniably is, but other times it's just a matter of your convenience over mine.

So anyway, there I was tonight, guiding an extremely poised 12-year-old as she explained her grades, study skills self-evaluation, academic goals, and community service interests to her mom, switching back and forth between Spanish and English for our benefit. All I did was answer some questions, encourage the student to stay after school for some math help, and compliment her on her achievements so far.

When the student got to the end of her checklist, the part that says Thank your parents for coming, she turned to her mother and said, "Gracias Mami!" And then she turned to me and said, "Thank-you for staying after school."

"You're welcome," I answered, and I really meant it.