Looking for a Happy Ending

I turned on the tiny tv screen in front of me the minute I sat down in my seat on the plane. Scrolling through the list of movies, I was initially captivated by one called Virginia Minnesota, because, hello?That was my itinerary! But it wasn’t as good as it sounded and soon I was paging through my choices again. Somewhere near the middle of the very long list was Morning Glory, a 2010 film starring Rachel McAdams, Harrison Ford, and Diane Keaton. It promised to be the tale of a spunky young morning show producer who tries to turn around failing show. I could tell there would be a few little bumps in the road, but in the end it would all turn out for those three very likable folks. I settled back into my seat, put my headphones on, and tapped play. 

Let's Talk about You

It was time to get my haircut, and so I walked up to the local place I usually go and took the first available appointment since I don't have a regular stylist. It usually works out for me; I want a pretty simple cut and my hair is generally forgiving. Even if I'm disappointed to begin with, the next day when I do it myself, it looks fine.

Plus, patronizing an economy establishment gives me the freedom to tip well, which I like to do particularly in an industry with primarily minority women workers. What I don't always like is the small talk. Depending on the personality of your stylist, you might sit in 20 minutes of companionable silence, or you may have to spend that time trying to make polite conversation because it seems expected.

Today started out as one of the latter experiences.

"Do you have any children?" the woman asked as she toweled my hair.

"No," I answered, "but I'm a teacher, so I'm around kids all day." I've learned that this response is a good one for politely continuing the conversation.

And then, after she asked me about where, what, and who I teach, I delivered the coup de grace.

"What about you? Do you have any children?"

And it was on! I didn't have to say another word.

Success at Last!

That little pumpkin kit I got in my stocking?

Well, lookie there!

Never Not Ever

Yesterday, for our food unit we read the book I Will Never Not Ever Eat a Tomato where a boy named Charlie convinces his sister Lola to eat carrots, peas, mashed potatoes, and fish sticks by calling them orange twiglets from Jupiter, green drops from Greenland, cloud fluff from Mt. Fuji, and all the mermaids' favorite, ocean nibbles from the grocery at the bottom of the sea.

Today, the students worked in teams to invent new identities for apples, butternut squash, basil, and cherry tomatoes. They were supposed to use their knowledge of sensory details and figurative language to transform those healthy foods into treats that kids would love to try. To inspire them, I had samples of each so that they could experience them personally.

The results were inventive and entertaining: we ended up with  Saturn slices, butter rocks, Martian gold, sun drops, money sprinkles, baby bouncers, juicy fruit, Martian candy, space jam, warrior nuts, green space octopus, and min-mers (whatever those are!) I'm not sure many kids would want to try many of those foods, but I know a lot of kids who ate their vegetables and did some pretty good collaborative thinking and writing today.

Clean Plate Club

Another day, another food picture to help students recognize analyzing, evaluating, and synthesizing. The task was to look at a composed bowl of food, decide if you would eat it, and figure out what ingredients you might add or subtract to have it your way.

It was a popular question, and I planned time for any student who was willing share to their ideas. As a cook, I found their replies very interesting. Some chose to replace the shrimp with another protein, some chose to add a second protein. Several eliminated the vegetables, and although avocado is very popular, a couple opted out, and a few others made it into guacamole. One student said she only like avocado on toast. Some kids added rice to make it a rice bowl; some added greens to make it a salad. Other additions were hot sauce, cilantro, cucumbers, and tomatoes.

The funniest answer I got started like this, "First I would get rid of the shrimp and avocado. Then the zucchini, peppers, and corn would have to go."

"You would start from scratch?" I asked.

"Yep," the student said, "after I washed the plate."

Have it your Way

I did a quick thinking exercise with my students today. In an effort to explain analysis in a different context, I put a picture of some kind of chili mac casserole up on the screen and posed the question, Would you eat this? Whether the answer was yes or no, I knew that when asked why, they would point to ingredients they recognized in the picture.

"That's analysis!" I explained. "You are breaking something down into its parts to see what it's made of!"

My follow up question was, What would you add or take out to make it a better meal? 

More cheese! Less tomato! No peppers! More peppers! Gluten-free macaroni!

"That's evaluation and synthesis!" I told them. "Writers do that, too!"

Perhaps the analogy was a bit abstract, but I'll keep working on it. Oh, and anecdotally? All the classes before lunch loved the picture! After lunch? They were quite a bit more critical.

Advice from the Coach

The quote of the day today was also the theme of the story we read. What to do with a mistake: recognize it, admit it, learn from it, forget it. ~ Dean Smith.

And all day long? The lesson was relevant.

"I couldn't write last night because..." a student would say.

"Recognize it, admit it, learn from it, forget it," I'd answer. "Are you going to write tonight?"

"I don't have my writing notebook. It's just..." another kid would start.

"Are you going to bring it tomorrow?" I asked.

And when they nodded, "Recognize it, admit it, learn from it, forget it," I'd reply.

"Are you doing your assignment?" I'd ask, and the guilty look was all the answer I needed.

Even so, most kids (heck! most people!) feel compelled to make an excuse. "Recognize it, admit it, learn from it, forget it," I'd tell them and move on.

And so it went. "We should get posters of that!" one of my co-teachers said.

Hmmm.