Priority Passenger

Just two weeks ago I landed at Minneapolis-St. Paul International airport as the Twin Cities were gearing up for the Final Four Finale, and it was kind of a crazy scene. Things were considerable calmer here this afternoon, dead almost, and as Heidi and I hiked from Terminal G to the baggage claim, I was hopeful that we would be out on the curb, in the car, and on the way to my mom's in no time.

The gathering crowds circling the carousels should have warned me otherwise, but it took a good ten minutes before we discovered that Air Force One was on the tarmac with the chief aboard, and that meant that all ramp traffic was on hold. Our baggage would not be on its way until President Trump was on his way to a campaign rally celebrating tax day.

In an attempt to keep informed about a situation where I was powerless, I turned to Twitter. President Trump, will you please hurry up and get out of Minneapolis airport so we can board our plane to go home? pleaded Diane.

Finally, a reporter on the plane tweeted that the TV coverage of the fire in Notre Dame had captured the president's attention, but that he had disembarked. A little while later the harsh triple honk of a conveyer belt being activated drifted down the cavernous baggage claim, stranded travelers jumped to their feet, and we knew it wouldn't be long before we would be on our way.

Wardrobe Change

Many of my friends and colleagues are headed south and west to warmer weather for spring break this week. We are headed north to Minnesota for a visit with my mom. And to tell you the truth? The weather here has been pretty mild the last couple of days, and after seeing myself in shorts-- another week of cool weather might not be too bad!

Safe travels to all!

Check that Box

A tall woman stood on the bench of a picnic table addressing a gathering of perhaps 70 people. Sunlight filtered through gray clouds and tiny new oak leaves, warming the muggy air. I was not uncomfortable in my t-shirt and flannel, but I wished I had my sunglasses for the shade they might have provided.

We were attending the annual opening meeting of our community garden, an event I have come to dread for reasons that are not entirely clear to me. Personally, I appreciate an informal structure, so it wasn't the loose circle that the assembled gardeners formed that bothered me.

Committee chairs stood where they were to deliver their reports, which worked for me, attentively standing near the center of the group, but not for those who chose to sit on the outer picnic benches. They shouted, "Can't hear you!" at every speaker, forcing them to repeat their remarks in strained voices.

There was also the standard litany of don'ts, although this year, the rules were definitely phrased more positively, and I liked hearing what I should do, rather than what I shouldn't. Finally, the meeting devolved to gripes and snipes-- members wondering why everyone else couldn't do things their way and others explaining that their way was actually much better.

It was at that point that the head gardener recalled the assembly to order. "And now it's time for everyone's favorite part of this day!" she said. "We get to work together to get the garden ready for a new season!"

Enjoy it while it Lasts!

Most of the honorees left the school board meeting during the break after the service award ceremony last night, which may have been by design since the board's main order of business was to approve the budget for next year. With a several million dollar shortfall, they were scrambling to cut line items, and one of the casualties?

Service award ceremonies.

The Grain of Salt

Tonight was the service award ceremony at the school board. Heidi and I and our friend Mary were all being recognized for 25 years of teaching, so we, along with three of our colleagues, made plans to attend the reception and the recognition that followed. It was not a well-planned event: the school board and the superintendent skipped the reception, they ran out of food, there was some confusion as to gifts and years.

It was still kind of fun, though, partially because 25 years of anything is pretty impressive, but mostly because of the company. After 25 years, I knew quite a few folks in the crowd, including both 40 year employees and three school board members whose children I had taught. Even so, it was our group that was really the most entertaining.

"Gee, I don't remember any of these people from that new hire orientation!" Mary said when we first walked in.

Ellis Island Redux

"My last name is going to change soon," one of my students confided in me.

"Really?" I asked. "How come?"

"It's my grandfather's name!" she explained. "So my sister and I have different last names even though we have the same mom and dad," she scoffed.

I knew a bit about her culture. "So, your dad's last name is your grandfather's first name, right?"

"Yeah," she said. "And that's the last name they gave me here, but it's not right."

"Because your last name is really your dad's first name?" I replied.

"Yes," she sighed. "America just messed up a little."

Community and Service

We had a modified schedule today so that the sixth graders could go to presentations by the 8th graders about their IB community projects. In general it is a good activity for all-- the older students get to explain their work to a relatively low stakes audience, and the younger kids get a glimpse at what they will have to plan and accomplish in a couple short years.

We worked in homeroom groups to prepare our sixth graders for their part in the activity, and one of the exercises that they completed was to identify a need and propose a hypothetical project for themselves. Some students took it more seriously than others, but at this stage it was the process that mattered, and I was content to guide them as they worked on their ideas, whatever those were.

Our little homeroom crew has bonded lately, too, so it was fun to work for a couple of hours with the 14 of them, especially since we found time to play music, sing, and eat the candy "eggs" that my musical plastic chicken lays. That might be why I wasn't surprised when 2 of the guys told me that their project was going to be to, "Beautify the school with jelly beans and ukuleles."

Now that is service I can support!