No Witnesses

They tore the trees out today. Years ago, when they first planted the birches, and a school renovation enlarged my windows, I made a deal with my students that I would never close the blinds. If they could stay focused, we could all enjoy the natural light. Since then, I've kept my word and so has every group of kids, through snow and rain and thunder and wind, and this year, even through the construction of a whole school outside.

The digging, the noise, the crane, the bulldozers, the concrete mixers-- we have regarded it all with mild interest, even as the leaves turned golden and then fell, giving us a better view of those proceedings. And now spring has arrived. And this morning, just as the first green was velveting the graceful white branches, men in hard hats and bobcats with chains and saws assailed the trees and rather savagely took them down and moved them out of the way, presumably for some next phase.

For that? I closed the blinds.

Good Call

One of the assistants in our school is a former student. Young, smart, energetic, and full of positive energy, she brightens any class she works with.

This morning I looked across the room during the announcements to see Z throwing his shoes over the table at her. She nimbly dodged the flying sneakers and, when he was out of ammunition, calmly asked if he wanted to go to the gym to walk around.

Shaking his head furiously, he snatched his beloved school bus pictures from the floor and tore them in two.

"How about the clinic?" she suggested. "Do you want to go lie down?"

He visibly relaxed and nodded.

"Let's go," she said, and as she led him out of the room in his socks, I heard her tell him, "Next time you're tired just ask to rest. You don't have to throw your shoes at me!"

A few minutes later she was back. "How is he?" I asked.

"He was asleep before I left," she reported.

Blank Verse

Today was the hardest day of the annual poetry challenge... Shakespearean sonnets!

I love my students this year, but perseverance in the face of academic adversity is not a strong suit for the group. As such, there were complaints, and to amuse myself and demonstrate the meter, I answered them in iambic pentameter.

"Do not give up before you try the job!" I encouraged, counting syllables as I spoke. "I know it's hard, but you are well-prepared!"

And then as the day wore on, it seemed as if my entire discourse became blank verse.

You know that chewing gum is not allowed. 

New reading logs are over in the bin.

The poem you wrote is really pretty good.

A pencil is a must to bring to class.

Your iPad should be charging every night.

And finally?

"Why do we have to write this stupid poem?" I suggested as the first line of a Shakespearean rant sonnet to a verrrry frustrated kid.

The Eye of the Storm

Yes, we are having house guests on Thursday, and yes, our house is an absolute mess. Boxes full of stuff from the pre-painted living room filling up the guest room; new curtains are hung over one window, but still in the bag for the other; a new rug has been ordered and will be delivered Tuesday. All our artwork is leaning against walls hoping to be hung from the new hardware we purchased at Home Depot today. Oh, we didn't get as much done this weekend as we wanted, but puppy sitting lunch and dinner invitations with friends and family had to take precedent.

These days we try to always choose people over things. The living room? Will come together. The guest room? Will be a comfortable place to stay. And most of all, we'll get to spend some time with dear friends celebrating Josh's accomplishments over the last four years, which is what we'll remember later on.

Yip-Yang

The Zen of puppy playtime:

From Adam

This afternoon we were in line at a grocery store about 30 miles from home. "Adam!" a customer service employee called to a manager walking away from the register he had been manning, "your lane light is still on." I glanced up to see a man of about 35 with a neatly trimmed beard, but my brain automatically erased both the beard and the last 20 years. I knew him immediately as the aggravating 12-year-old boy he was in sixth grade, and I remembered how the two of us spent that year at odds: he, defiant, and I, frustrated.

It was not one of my prouder teaching experiences, and I was humbled and then hopeful that I might be more successful if he were my student now.

I studied him as he stood chatting. He looked so much more relaxed and confident, and especially happier, than he had the last time I saw him. Oh, I could have gone over and explained who I was, but this time I decided not to.

Everyone deserves the chance to outgrow themselves.

Under the Influence

We were warned.

When Heidi decided to take the sedation for the extensive dental work she needed, both her parents told her tales of their wacky behavior while under the influence of those drugs. Her dad leaned out the window of the car making the sign of the cross in the air and mumbling blessings at all the other drivers until her mom rolled up the window and sharply reminded him that he was not a priest.

Her mother could not stop worrying about the piano. Was it safe? Would the movers be careful with it? Did it need tuning. "We don't have a piano," Heidi's dad said, but when that did not calm her mom's worrying he switched his story. "The piano's fine!" he told her. "All taken care of!"

Heidi was directed to take one pill an hour before her appointment and another 30 minutes later. "How do you feel?" I asked her as we headed out to the car.

"A little wobbly," she admitted. Five minutes later we were stopped at a light, and she was slumped in her seat, head lolling a bit. "That baby on the dog," she said, "it isn't a good idea"

"What baby?" I asked her.

"Back there," she told me. "They wanted the baby to ride the dog. I'm pretty sure I saw rope, too," she added seriously, "for extra security."

"I didn't see that," I told her.

The light changed and we continued on to the dentist. A few blocks later she said, "Whoa! We just ran over a ghost in the middle of the road."

"What!?" I cried.

"He was sitting in a school chair in the middle of the road. He looked right at me, and then pffft! We ran over him."

"Was he like Casper the ghost or like a person ghost?" I asked her.

"Person," she confirmed.

"How old was he?"

"Thirties?" she shrugged. "With red hair and a red sweater. He didn't look worried, but I was like, Do you really have to be in this lane? and then pshtttt, you ran through him."

I was laughing as we pulled up to the dentist office, and and still giggling as I helped her out of the car. Everyone in the waiting room looked up as 2 middle-aged ladies staggered in giggling. "I'm ready!" Heidi announced, and off she toddled to have her teeth fixed up.