Tough Audience

Years ago, my sister asked me how my new students were. "Well," I answered, "they are smaller than the kids last year, and not quite as quick thinkers." I paused. "I guess they're kind of short and stupid!"

I was joking, of course, but now that my 27th  Back-to-school-night has come and gone, I've decided that, like their children, parents, too have a group identity. Some years, it's kind of a reunion-- the parents know each other, some of them know me, and there is a pervasive party vibe. Other years, the parents seem to really get the program and what we are trying to do with their kids in a writing workshop. They are excited and engaged by the possibilities I present. Some years there are a lot of characters that stand out-- eccentric parents, outspoken parents, one year I even had some drunk parents. Those make for good stories to swap the next day at lunch.

But this year? It was very low key. No one laughed at my little jokes, and no one had any questions about my presentation. A couple told me that their kids like the class, and that's always nice to hear, but in general, it was kind of drudgery for all involved. I'd like to blame it on the information overload in the 20 minute video we all have to watch at the beginning; it doesn't set a very inviting tone, but to be honest? I've overcome it in the past.

I think these parents are just tall and boring.

Means and Ends

Our staff meeting today involved walking around, doing math activities, pairing up with a stranger, answering random questions, and then describing the math experience.

Oh, I did fine. I played Challenge 24 for a little while, high-fived the first person I made eye contact with (who happened to be the new social worker), and told her that, as an introvert, I would prefer to be rich with no friends rather than poor with lots of friends. She raised an eyebrow at that, but I got her back when we had to talk about our math experience.

"I didn't do it," she confessed.

"You better have a good reason!" I mock scolded her, and we laughed.

"I actually do," she said.

"Let's hear it! We have 30 seconds to kill!" I joked.

She told me about an undocumented parent whose child, a student at our school, is quite ill. This mom doesn't have insurance and was seeking help. "She's not eligible for anything because she's undocumented," she finished.

"What about the kid?" I asked. "Isn't he or she a citizen?"

Her eyes lit up. "My gosh!" she said. "That might be the answer. Although, the way things are now, if Mom's applying for documentation, she can't have any record of social services."

Right then, time was up, and we were told to high five each other again, say how amazing we were, and return to our seats.

A New Approach?

Not yet as popular as Marie Kondo but with every chance of getting his own Netflix show is Garr Reynolds and his concept of Presentation Zen. For anyone who has ever sat through an excruciating slideshow, or worse yet, created and presented one, Reynolds has a set of guidelines meant to make your presentation more engaging and more memorable.

As a teacher? This notion speaks loudly to me. Streamlining my lessons is always my goal. And as the victim of many, Many, MANY boring slideshow-based presentations?

Back to school night is my first project. Here are the tenets I am using to design my 27th BSN presentation:

1. Think before you turn on the computer. I have all my notes on a legal pad.
2. Keep your audience in mind. What do the parents want to know when they leave?
3. Have a solid structure. In progress
4. Have a clear theme. Guiding question for the year: How can we become better writers? 
5. Remove the non-essential. I usually run out of time. Why?
6. Hook 'em early. In progress
7. Show a clear conflict. Writing is a struggle and so is working hard to improve on anything. 
8. Demonstrate a clear change. Supporting writers in their practice will help them improve.
9. Show or do the unexpected. Um....
10. Make 'em feel. Writing is thinking, and writing is an effective way to show what you know, and connect with others.
11. Be authentic. Aw, shucks.

Still Dumb

"Doesn't that distract the students?" several colleagues have asked upon noticing the endless recess that goes on at the elementary school right outside my window.

To be honest? After the first day, the kids pretty much ignored their younger counterparts romping and climbing and running and yes, fighting and crying,often unnoticed by the adults out there, but for me it stirs resentment I still haven't resolved about the whole situation. I still think building a school in that space was a dumb idea, and I'm still annoyed that the powers that be went ahead and did it anyway despite many objections.

This morning as I waited for 3 buses to make the turn from the bus lane to the narrow street that leads to both schools so that I could enter the underground garage and descend two levels to park in one of the lotteried spaces walk up two flights of steps and then enter the school as I did for 25 years, I challenged Heidi to think of one positive thing about the present circumstances. We parked and walked and climbed and walked in silence.

"I can't," she admitted as we pushed through the entry doors.

"Me neither," I sighed as we walked past the latest construction.

"Have a good day!" we said together as we went our separate ways.

Pumpkin Dreams

"What is that?" I pointed to a large, green butternut squash shaped object growing by the fence. We had stopped by the garden for the first time in a couple of weeks. The last time I had visited, I had pretty much picked everything clean, and with the droughty conditions, I didn't expect much to be growing.

I traced the vine back to the spot where I had transplanted a handful of seedlings in early July. They had come from a grow-your-own-pumpkin kit that I received in my stocking. Could it be a pumpkin? I wondered with rising excitement, but upon close examination, I just didn't think so. It was the only one of its sort growing, and although the other vines were gangbusters, none of them were bearing any fruit.

Since I had no idea if it were ripe or not, I decided to leave it there and gently turned it over, so that the garden side might see some sunshine. A little research when I got home suggested that it may likely be a Lunga di Napoli squash, an Italian heirloom similar to our butternut, but with green skin instead of tan.

Even so, I'll leave it there and check again next weekend to see if there are any signs that it may turn bright orange by October.

Oh Lord

"Jesus Christ!" the technician cried from the kitchen. He was here to haul away the old dishwasher, and deliver and install the new one.

I bolted up from the couch. "What?"

"I can't close this cutoff valve!" he complained. "Are you sure it's not closed?"

I shrugged and nodded and returned to the couch.

"Jesus Christ!" I heard again, but chose to ignore it. "Ma'am!" he continued. "Can you come out here please?"

It seems the valve was faulty-- dry when open or closed, but leaky in between. I assured him I would get a plumber as soon as possible, and went back to the living room.

"Jesus Christ!" he swore again, but this time it was partner who asked him what was wrong. "They used the braces under the countertops!" he scoffed. "That's not right."

The other agreed and went to get the new dishwasher from the truck.

"Jesus Christ!" a voice exploded from under the sink. "Ma'am! Can you come in here?"

"Yes?" I stood in the kitchen door.

"Can you explain to me why someone would put three clamps on the line leading into the disposal?" he demanded.

"Um... no," I answered. "Is that a problem?"

"Well it's completely unnecessary and makes my job that much harder!" he told me.

Apologetically, I returned to the couch.

"Jesus Christ!" he said to no one in particular. "Would you look at this floor?"

I studied my hands and wondered if I needed to report to the kitchen in shame.

Fifteen minutes and a couple of butt-crack views later, the new dishwasher was in. I thanked the team for their labor and I assured them I would have a plumber and carpenter assess the situation soon.

Jesus Christ! I thought, as I closed the front door.

Everybody Wins

We were playing "IB Charades" in home room this morning, and I was kind of surprised at how much my students were enjoying it. Everyone wanted to take turn after turn to act out the 10 Learner Profile traits and the five Approaches to Learning skills, which, to be honest, can be rather dry material.

I have one student who is not quite on grade level, but the other kids are good at including her by meeting her where she is. On her first turn, she chose Balanced and the class got it right away when she very convincingly mimed walking across a tightrope. Her next turn she got Caring, and I was initially confused when she dropped to her hands and knees and started across the carpet.

"Come here," I told her. "I think you read that word wrong," I whispered. "It wasn't crawling, it was caring."

She nodded and picked up a few books and began walking across the room again.

I frowned, and then, figuring it out, gestured her back. "I said caring, like you're really nice, not carrying!" I whispered again.

She was unfazed, and reaching for one of the stuffed animals I keep in a crate by the wall, scooped it up and gave it a hug."

"Caring!" the class guessed.

"You got it!" she said.