Open and Closed

My students recently completed their "This I Believe" essays, and I tried to write one along with them, following the prescribed steps, just as I had them do.

Well... it wasn't easy! But here's what I came up with:

I Believe in Doors.

I must have been in my third year of college when it dawned on me: I would never be Miss America. It was the first time I heard the definitive click of a door locking forever in my life. Sure, doctor, lawyer, president were all still possibilities, but, whether I wished for it or not, it was clear to me that I would never walk down that runway in my sash and tiara, tears flowing, clutching my victory bouquet and waving as Burt Parks sang.

Of course, I didn’t wish for it, had never taken a step in my life toward it, but I felt a bit of sting realizing that there was at least one “never” in my life. What other nevers are there? I wondered then, but at 20, the list seemed pretty short. Now, thirty-five years later, I have walked away from many closed doors, some without remorse, some with more than a bit of regret, some I closed myself, some I never tried, and some were locked by the time I got there.

There’s a Chinese proverb that as an educator I find meaningful. It goes something like, Teachers open the door, but you must pass through it on your own. In my career, I’ve had countless conversations with wayward students encouraging them to be more mindful of their choices, if only to keep as many doors as possible open for themselves in the future. I won’t be standing there holding the door forever.

But at their age they still believe that anything can happen, and the connection between their actions and their choices is too abstract to grasp. They haven’t learned what sound a closing door makes, but that doesn’t mean that doors aren’t closing. And not all doors are created equal. The Olympians competing right now have dedicated much if not most of their young lives to achieve the opportunity to compete. That heavy door is open because they have thrown most of their young lives against it.

I once read that it’s a good idea take the opportunity to turn our minds to the present any time we pass through a doorway during the day. Whether we are coming or going or simply changing rooms, we can allow crossing a threshold to be a reminder to focus on the now. I like that advice, because I believe that it is in the present that we find the keys to the metaphorical doors we may encounter in the future.

Counter-Intuituve

Last quarter I had two of my students, whose behavior can be rather challenging, three times a day-- for intervention, reading class, and English class. Instead of wearing my patience ever thinner, I found that the more time I spent with those guys, the better-behaved they were. Go figure.

Now I only see them once a day, during the last class period that I teach, and I find myself  aggravated with them much more frequently. Today I gave one of them a warning look and asked him to step over to my desk.

Before I could say a word, he shook his head and looked at me. "Don't you miss seeing me all the time?" he asked.

"Yes!" I told him, "I really do! Now, about throwing that paper..."

Future Mad Men

My students are working on a popular little mini-unit centered on media literacy and persuasive techniques. As the culminating project, they form teams to plan, write and produce a commercial for an imaginary product (which is in reality either a kitchen gadget or a combination of kitchen gadgets). In general, they love the activity because it lets them collaborate, and be creative and funny.

Before they start shooting, they must first come up with a concept, including catchy name and slogan, and submit it to me for approval. It's rare that I veto any idea, but the group that wanted to use "Grab your balls and start bouncing today!" was an exception. I did let "For 10 bucks and a nickel we'll give you a tickle!" slide, though.

No Credit to Me

I've had a lot of great homerooms over the years, and a few rather challenging groups, too, but never have I had a TA like the one I do this year. They are amazing! At the end of the first grading period, 11 out of 12 were on the honor roll and the other student missed by 2 percentage points. In addition to being responsible students, they are conscientious as well, completing their community service activities and always arriving on time.

It is for this last strength that they were rewarded this morning, being chosen from all the other 6th grade homerooms as the on-time champs for the month. Along with the recognition comes temporary custody of a shiny trophy and the choice of either a pizza party or squish balls for everyone. The group was nearly unanimous in their selection of the fidgets. "Pizza's good," one of them said to the class, " but squishy balls will last long after pizza is gone."

I was telling a colleague about it later in the day. "That's incredible!" she said.

"I know, right?" I agreed. "They would knock the marshmallow test right out of the park!" I thought about it, and then shrugged. "I guess it's really not that surprising. That's why they are so good."

Not My Shoe Size

I was at the UPS store sending off some packages, and the young man helping me couldn't have been nicer. When at last it came time to pay the bill, he announced the total and asked, "Do you have an AARP account?"

Perhaps I raised an eyebrow, because he quickly added, "or triple A? We give discounts for either!"

Mistaken Identity

We went to the opening reception for my sister-in-law's art show this afternoon. It was a wonderful exhibit, full of prints and collages that really showcased her amazing talent. At one point, I was standing in the gallery talking to a few friends from school when a woman tapped me on the shoulder. "Excuse me," she said, "are you Emily?"

"No," I answered and pointed. "That's her over there, the one talking so animatedly about that print."

"Thank you," she said.

"No, thank you," I told her. "I'm flattered to be mistaken for the artist!" Then I turned to my colleagues and shrugged. "It must be the turtleneck!"

Next Generation

Years ago I used to have my students do a word ladder every Monday. It was a fun way for them to exercise vocabulary, spelling, and logical thinking skills while I was conferring with them one by one about their independent reading. As the curriculum changed, eventually I phased that activity out in favor of other tasks that allowed them to connect their reading to their writing, and I hadn't thought about those puzzles in years when the other day one of the students in my intervention class asked me if I had any word ladders for the Greek and Latin word parts we were studying.

"I don't," I answered, "but I'm not sure how that would work."

"I love word ladders!" she told me. "My fifth grade teacher used to give them to us all the time.

"Funny!" I said. "Who was your teacher?"

"Ms. D." she replied.

"Ms. Katie D?" I clarified.

"Yes!" she confirmed.

"Well," I laughed, "she used to love doing them, too, when she was in sixth grade. In fact, I think she used to sit right where you are sitting now."

"Wait. What?" Her jaw dropped. "Ms. D. was in your class?"

"I know, right?" I agreed. "I can hardly believe it myself!"