Vicious Cycle

We have a colleague who complains all the time. Nothing suits her; nothing anyone else asks or does is valuable or useful. In the space of 45 minutes yesterday she explained why 2 suggestions and one routine would not be of any help to her or her team. She informed us that what we were working on was not a good use of her time and also outlined all her grievances against a co-teaching situation with a teacher who wasn't present.

And when she left what did we do?

We complained about her.

Lettuce Consider that Question

"Why do always smell like salad?" a student asked me today.

"Uh--." I replied, "I'm not sure. What kind of salad do I smell like?"

He shrugged. "Just salad. All the time."

"Is it a good smell or a bad smell?" I asked.

"it's ok," he answered. "if you like salad."

Unforeseen Complications

I have never been an early bird, and yet:

The older I grow, the earlier I rise, and this year, getting out of bed at 5:30 doesn't even seem a hardship. I am easily able to shower and dress and pack lunches and take the trash by 6:40. Then it's time for the chore that founded this very blog: walking the dog.

Unfortunately, although I am ready for the day, the day is not ready for us.

It's still really dark!

End of a Long Day

It was 6:45 when I finally left school today. As I pushed through the plate glass doors a soft breeze warmed my refrigerated skin. The pale blue sky was awash with apricot clouds and every single playing field was filled. Soccer players, basketballers, tennis aces, skateboarders, and jungle gymmers laughed and called to each other in at least five different languages. For them, work was over and play time was on. I took a deep breath and felt the tension leave my body, and realized that the same was true for me.

Dark Skies

Soul crushing is how a friend described the month-long rain storm that was September, and I had to agree. In general, the weather doesn't bother me, but 26 days and 9 inches of rain were an exception to that rule.

The politics of the moment do nothing to lift my mood. I'm from the DC area; I went to private school and college in the 70s and 80s; I know how the parties were and what the yearbook codes meant. In addition, the nasty polarization and high stakes of every situation, and this one in particular, takes it toll.

I believe the pervasive national climate of hatred and distrust are beginning to show up in my students, although my evidence is purely anecdotal. It feels like there is much less courtesy toward peers and respect for authority in the group of sixth graders I have now, along with more anger and more needs. Even in our wealthy district, our students can simply not escape the dark clouds immigration concerns, police violence, economic uncertainty, and the opioid crisis, and so of course there will be storms in school.

The sun was out this weekend, and I spent time outside with my dog. I played with my kittens, cooked some good food,  and this morning I laughed out loud at a silly skit from Saturday Night Live that had nothing to do with politics.

I guess the best way to cope with the storm is to put up your umbrella, keep going, and keep a lookout for blue skies ahead.

Serial Advice

Serial, the granddaddy of all podcasts for me, is finally back for a third season. I must confess that I was a little disappointed with the premise at first: rather than examine a questionable murder conviction, or even a high-profile military desertion, this season is focused on the criminal court system in...

Cleveland.

I needn't have worry, though, in less than 5 minutes of the first episode, I was totally on board, and after episode 2? I am hooked. 

To begin with, I had almost forgotten what a fantastic writer and amazing reporter Sarah Koenig is, but more importantly, using Cleveland Criminal Court (mostly because they allow recording) as a microcosm for the American court system turns out to be genius. Race, age, class, and gender all collide in a provocative and sometimes disturbing portrait.

On a personal note, the second episode reminded me that scolding is usually no more than a catharsis for the scolder; such lectures seldom benefit the scoldee. As a 6th grade teacher, that is a lesson I learned many years ago, but seems extremely timely this school year, when scolding a few kids for some of the more egregious antics has seemed pretty tempting in the moment. But venting frustration and building constructive relationships are not usually compatible, and anyone in authority should know that it's the second that is necessary for lasting change.

Breaking Bird

I knew it was out there.

On my way into the building yesterday a couple of sixth graders careened down the sidewalk toward me on a... scooter!

"Boys!" I said sharply, stepping in front of them with my hand raised, the very image of the fun scooter police.

To their credit? They stopped immediately.

"First," I said, "you should be wearing helmets. Secondly? Riding double is not allowed. And finally-- you have to be 18 with a driver's license to get one of these! Where did this come from?"

"My brother got it for me," answered one.

"Well, all I'm saying is that if the resource officer caught you guys riding this, you could get in some trouble," I told them.

"Thank you for the warning," the same student answered, and they walked the scooter slowly away.

Later that afternoon, I told my friend Mary the story.

"I still haven't ridden one of those!" she said.

I pulled out my phone and launched the app. "Now's your chance! It's still outside! And out we went.

A few fat drops of rain were splashing on the pavement as we pushed our way through the heavy glass doors. It took us a minute to find the scooter, because the boys had evidently tossed it to the ground after our conversation. Fortunately the app has a locator chirp, and although it was drizzling, we picked it up, and Mary took a quick spin. "Wheeeeeeeee," she called as she zoomed past, and I knew that she got it. A few minutes later, we locked the Bird, and propped it against the school.

It was on the sidewalk again when I left yesterday evening in the pouring rain, and still there when I walked in this morning. At 1 pm, after a long day of teaching, and before a long afternoon of planning and paperwork and meeting, it occurred to me that it was probably still there.

Brain break! I thought.

20 minutes and 2 miles later, I re-entered the building with a smile on my face, good to go for another 4 hours.