Susie or Sam

The weather was amazingly, unseasonably warm this afternoon, and lots of folks were out to prove it. Dogless as we are, we decided to drive down to a regional park with an amazing wetland boardwalk that does not allow canine companions. As a result, even though we have visited the park on many occasions, we have missed out on its main attraction.

Today it did not disappoint-- we saw geese and ducks and blackbirds, crows, a heron, a bluebird and a couple of turtles, but the star of the show was definitely that cute little muskrat chewing on swamp grass.

Reading Social Cues

My students are busy making commercials to demonstrate their understanding of persuasive techniques. Before shooting video, they were required to create a storyboard to organize their ideas. As they worked, I circulated through the room providing advice and encouragement.

“What’s your concept?” I asked one group of boys.

“We want to convince the audience that this is a fun new toy!” one said.

“Yeah!” his classmate agreed. “We’re going to show kids playing with it and some old person playing with something boring.” He paused. “But we need someone old.”

Four boys turned expectantly to me.

I raised my eyebrows.

“We’re going to keep looking!” another boy assured me.

Proofreading V. Editing

"Can I ask you a favor?" a colleague poked his head in the door this afternoon.

I laughed and gave my standard reply. "You can ask!"

"Will you proofread a paper I am writing for grad school?" he started. "I don't need it until next week, so you can totally take your time," he added quickly.

"Sure," I shrugged.

He sighed. "Thank goodness, because my professor suggested the writing center, but I thought, Why would I ask a bunch of 19-year-olds, when I have a much better option right across the hall?"

"Wait," I said. "Did your professor say that to you or everyone?" Because right then? I was wondering what I had just agreed to.

"I'm sure it was everyone," he waved his hand dismissively. 

"Okay," I nodded, "but why don't you give me that paper right now."

Epilogue:

His paper was fine, but I did suggest a few changes. I don't know what that professor was expecting, but that seems like another blog post altogether.

Reading the Signs

The sugar-fueled sixth grade Valentine's Day celebration spilled over into today when one of my homeroom students sheepishly asked permission to distribute little tins of candy. "I just forgot yesterday," she shrugged.

The other kids were, of course, more than willing to accept her belated offerings which turned out to be those chalky little hearts stamped with corny messages. As one guy snacked contentedly in the rocking chair I couldn't resist messing with him. "Close your eyes and pick one at random!" I said. "Then read it to us-- it will be a message from the Universe!" I promised.

He was happy to comply. Slamming his eyes shut, he plucked a single heart from the tiny tin and held it between his thumb and forefinger.

"What does it say? What does it say?" his classmates pestered him.

"It says..." he paused dramatically, squinting at the candy. "It says, 'Marry me'!" he did a literal double-take and blushed as the other kids roared with laughter.

"The Universe is weird," he concluded, popping the heart into his mouth.

Read Aloud

This rotation my intervention group is 11 boys who, well, let's be honest, do not like to read. I did my best this morning to hook them with snacks and choice.

"We can read the same book all together," I suggested, "or you can pick a book to read with a partner. Take a few minutes to decide."

The murmur quickly exploded to a hubbub. "I hear so many good ideas and questions," I said. "Why don't we talk again as a group?"

When they were settled I told them, "This would be a good chance for you to read something that always seemed a little too hard or too long. Or maybe something that sounded really good, but you just couldn't get into." I looked around expectantly. "Why don't you all go ahead and take a look at the bookshelves to get some ideas?"

As they browsed, I noticed a few eying the Harry Potter series. "That would be a good choice!" I encouraged them. "It's great, but it can be hard to get involved with."

A few boys shrugged until the assistant that I am lucky to be working with this time grabbed a copy. "Would it be okay if I read the first chapter out loud?" he said. "Then if you like what you hear, you'll know it's a good fit for you."

Three boys followed him to the corner and were rapt as he began to read. I continued making quiet suggestions to the others until, one by one, they drifted over to him, sat down, and began to listen.

Re-Reading

Another quarter, another reading of "What Was I Scared Of?"

As usual, I did my this-is-so-weird-and-silly schtick, riffing on the nocturnal bear, the creepy pants, the Grin-itch spinach, and so on. BUT today, I noticed a new flaw in the book. "Look at that moon!" I cried. "The text says it's a week later, but the PHASE OF THE MOON HASN'T CHANGED!" I threw my hands up in mock exasperation. "I'm sorry! I don't even think this story takes place on earth!"

The students laughed good-naturedly, and one boy raised his hand. "How many times did you read that story before you noticed the moon?" he wanted to know.

I paused and shrugged. "This is the first time I saw that," I confessed. "So, considering I first read this book when I was seven or eight?"

I looked out at the class; their eyes were wide.

"Let's just say, Several," I told them with a nod.

The Multitudinous Story

Oh! The Oscar-nominated documentary shorts!

Each year I eagerly look forward to that curated and concentrated glimpse into some other realities than my own. The movies can be joyful, but more commonly are hard to watch, and this year was heavy on the latter.

Three of the five were centered around the war in Syria and its catastrophic fallout. Although the indomitable spirit of many Syrians was front and center, so was the devastating scope of the tragedy that has been unfolding for the last six years. It made the grave subjects of the other two films-- end of life care choices and the path of a violin from the Holocaust to the poorest county in the US-- seem almost, almost, minor, although of course that could never be true.

And, that is why I love them so.