Welcome to Sixth Grade

"How was the open house?" Heidi asked when she picked me up at 5:30 this evening.

"They seemed nervous," I started.

"That's pretty normal, right?" she said.

"I'm talking about the parents!" I told her.

It could well be that more kids means more parents, and more parents means more anxious parents. I think I was pretty reassuring, but even so?

I'm buckling up.

Idiosyncratic

There were a few more meetings today, but fortunately they involved concrete planning for the rest of this week and next, when students will actually be present, first at the open house tomorrow, and then for the opening days of school starting next Tuesday.

My room is coming together, too, although when I left this afternoon it was definitely in that storm before the calm stage, with boxes on the floor and posters and supplies strewn about all seven(!) tables. BUT, the bookshelves were unwrapped, and many items had been restored to their customary place.

In fact, a little glow of satisfaction warmed me in the air-conditioned chill as I considered those placements, well-tweaked after 24 years in the same room. Just then a new teacher came in to return the magnetic tape. She remembered that I had produced it from the bookshelf by my desk. "Does this just go on top?" she asked.

"Oh no," I replied, "it goes right here." And I slid it between the candy can and the metal file sorter next to it. "See how it sticks, because it's magnetic?" I asked.

Her face was polite, but blank, and for a moment I saw the room through her eyes.

"Signs you've worked in a space a little too long," I shrugged, and we laughed. "But now you know where to find it when you need it!" I said.

Heading for Overtime

For those of you keeping score?

This is day 4 back at school,

with zero time
to work in our classrooms,
meet with our interdisciplinary teams,
or plan with our teaching teams,

and 3 days left
until 134 students come my way.

Institutional Friendship

Our professional learning activity today involved the staff taking the role of students, and following a school-day schedule attending "classes" taught by our colleagues. We were assigned to cohorts of about 20-25, and so it happened that I spent most of my day with a teacher who was on my team the first year I started teaching. We have been in the same school ever since, but never again on the same team or in the same department.

Even so, our friendship is very warm, and it often surprises our colleagues who have no knowledge of our connection. That's how it was today. My friend can present as a little flighty at times, and there were a few raised eyebrows and giggles at our table when I teased her about her silly comments.

"Hey! This is your old classroom!" I noted as we moved to our second session, and we laughed because it was, 25 years ago. "Hey! Isn't the next room we go to your old classroom, too?" I said at the end of the session. And we laughed again, because it was, 20 years ago.

"You're just going to have to work another 30 years," I finally told her, "so you can teach in every room in the building!"

Someone Needs a Review

While most of my colleagues probably spent the first weekend of the school year chasing those final days of summer, I have been agonizing over a presentation I agreed to make tomorrow, despite my resolution to keep my life as uncomplicated as possible.

I guess that's what formative assessment is for.

Humility Grows Here

My dream of growing a watermelon was violently derailed yesterday when I stopped by the garden on the way home from school to see how it was doing without me now that I am back to work. There was nothing but a sour smell and a swarm of flies where my two little watermelons had been on Tuesday.

A little ways away I found a couple of broken and empty shells where whatever critter had beaten me to my melons had dragged them. With a sigh, I tossed them in the compost bin and filed the experience under major garden disappointments, right next to the pumpkin tragedy of 2013.

Under the Sun

At the beginning of every new school year there's at least one new initiative, or approach, or gimmick. I'm not sure why that is, other than idealists idealize things, like new years and new opportunities. To be honest, I learned early in my career what a big contrast there is from one year to next, a lesson that came mostly from being shocked by the changes-- in personnel, personalities, and group dynamics, to name the most obvious.

This time is no different, but if I've learned anything in my 25 years of teaching, it's definitely the Buddhist precept of non-attachment. Who knows if that information system, curriculum, teammate, etc. will stick?

Even so, I'm a little intrigued by the "Lead Simply" materials our principal introduced to the leadership team. Sam Parker's framework of Model. Connect. Involve. is actually quite simple (everything is contained in a slim 6'x4' 61 page volume) and aligns well with both my philosophies of leadership and teaching, which in many ways is really a specialized form of leadership.

As part of the initiative, we got Parker's book, and some swag, too: a pen, a notepad, and some sticky-notes. I had the pen, boldly emblazoned with LEAD simply, with me at our big staff meeting yesterday, and I noticed one of my very experienced teammates looking at it. Later on she stopped by my room ro ask a question and noticed the book on my desk.

"I have to ask," she smirked, "is that the instruction manual to your pen?"