Baby, Remember my Name

Every year my students read the poem Famous by Naomi Shihab Nye, a poem which redefines the whole concept of fame, ending with the lines

I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous,
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot what it could do.

I always ask the kids to say what they would like to be famous for, and their answers are always amazing. Here are a few from our conversation today:

I want to be famous as the sidekick, still helping, but not in the spotlight 

I want to be famous like the sun, not to be popular but to inspire people.

I want to be famous like a caterpillar, it grows into a butterfly when the time is right.

I want to be famous for helping others, not because I had to, but because I could.

I wish to be famous to the fans
standing and clapping in awe after what happened that night

I want to be famous like the wind to a boat, drifting them along, and filling their sail.

I want to be famous for carrying the ocean on my shoulders.
To do what I can do to be strong.

I want to be famous like the drumSteady, strong, and the living, breathing beat.

I want to be famous to the hidden, teaching them who is safe

I want to be famous like music Not for the publicity or terrible fame But for the joy it brings to others

I want to be famous for my art passionate and impossible to perfect

If the Pun Fits

Sometimes I amuse myself by giving my assignments or presentations funny titles or subtitles. Hey? What can I say? I'm an English teacher and I love word games. So, for example, the slide show on conflict was sub-captioned The Struggle is Real. Ha ha ha.

Many of my poetry challenges are similarly named: Up Close and Personification, Smile it's a Simile, Sounds like Poetry (for hyperbole), and so forth. They are not the cleverest monikers ever, but as I said, they amuse me.

My students, on the other hand, rarely get the humor. (Tweens! They are soooooo literal!) So today, when I called the activity where they were supposed to evaluate their writing and pick a piece to submit to our literary magazine Publish or Perish, some students were a little alarmed.

"Are you saying we will die if we don't do this assignment?" someone asked dramatically.

"Oh no, " I answered. "Believe me, if not doing your school work was fatal, most of you would be long dead already."

There was a pause, while my words sunk in.

"Heyyyyyyy!" 

Hostess With the Mostest

Regular readers know:

I am an introvert.

What to do, then when your house guest is an extrovert? An extrovert who has been home alone all day?

Nothing but smile when she moves that chair into the kitchen while you cook. Oh, and keep up your end of the conversation.

Poem-a-Day

My students have been poetry champs over Spring Break! On average, at least 25 kids a day have taken time from their vacations to read the daily challenge and write a poem. One of the activities was to write an acrostic poem about a day of the week. This one pretty sums up today:

School is near
Until then
No more school for now
Do your homework
After that play outside
You're good to go!

Thanks, Shion!

Careful What You Ask For

And now, the squirrels are gone. They must have moved to a new nest yesterday afternoon. (Probably because I didn't feed them...)

I'm kind of sad, you guys.

Spoke Too Soon

So... this morning when I looked out on the balcony I was greeted by four tiny eyes and a couple of almost bushy tales dashing frantically for cover. Turns out there is a little family of squirrels living out there, and if my internet research is any good? Those twins are about 6-7 weeks old, a little too young to be completely displaced. So, I'm going to give them a couple of weeks before I dismantle the nest behind the shed.

And:

I will not feed them.

I will not feed them.

I will not feed them.

(Unless they look really, really hungry.)

Eviction Notice

Storage is limited in our condo, and so over the years we have come up with some creative work-arounds. Probably the most inconvenient thing for us has been where to store our bikes. We need a place that is sheltered, accessible, and frankly, not in our house. A few years ago I found a pop-up canvas shed that nestles conveniently in a nook on the upstairs balcony which has worked pretty well for us. Last fall when I stored the bikes for the winter, I noticed a little tear in the fabric at about railing height. I should really fix that I said to myself before promptly forgetting all about it the moment I crossed the threshold and entered my warm house.

Well, the days are growing more temperate and this afternoon I went out to switch around a few items in that shed. Hmm, thought I, upon noticing a ragged hole in the bottom, could that be dry rot? I nudged the structure with my foot and nearly jumped through the screen door when it nudged back with a panicky skitter. Uh oh, I concluded, someone is in there. I took a moment to find the courage to unzip the proper opening, all the while expecting my tenant to burst out at me, but I underestimated the little critter, because there was a back door chewed in the rear which had been clearly used for evacuation.

The collection of dry leaves and sticks in the bottom led me to believe we were harboring a squirrel, a single squirrel, with no babies to complicate what had to be done. I left the shed open; it does not offer any shelter like that. A little while later I saw a squirrel frantically peeking from the railing into the original window-like tear, and my heart clutched a little. But it is spring here-- cold nights will be few, and now is as good a time as any to build a new nest.