It Seems Only Fair

Last year I realized that if I was going to ask my students to step out of their comfort zone and challenge themselves to do something every day for one hundred days, then I should do that, too. My challenge couldn't be writing, since that has become a habit, so what could I do? 

Back then, in March of 2020, I decided on sit-ups and meditation, and I despite the pandemic (or perhaps because of it?), I am proud to say I made my hundred days and have continued on. Daily diligence is kind of my jam.

What's next? you might wonder, as I have, too. So I decided to throw it out to the kids. Next week, they will get to propose a hundred day challenge for me. And honestly? I can't wait to see what they come up! 

Stay tuned.

A Lifetime

Today was the day when I introduced the 100 Day Writing Challenge to my students. Technically, it starts next Monday, March 1, but with conferences at the end of the week and asynchronous learning, it made sense to go over it now. Plus, I've learned over the years that a few built-in safety nets prevent kids from dropping out if they miss a day or two along the way. 

I wasn't always so flexible, though. When I first started the challenge, I thought the dread of losing everything for missing a day would be more than enough to keep kids in it to win it. After all, I have held myself to the rigorous standard of daily posting since March 1, 2009 with never a miss. But these days I know that what works for me isn't necessarily what's best for everyone, and I really just want the kids to write.

When I was giving the origin story of the writing challenge this morning, though, I did tell the students that I had written every day since March 2009. "What?" one student unmuted to exclaim. "That's longer than I've been alive!"

Home School

 The question of the day today was What is a rule you have in your family that you would change if you could? The answers came in fast, but the first to respond wrote I would change the video games only on weekends! 

"That sounds like you!"I told him a little while later, as we were reading through the replies. "I know it must be hard to wait until Friday for your games."

As he unmuted to answer me, there was murmuring in the background and we could hear his mom talking to him. A little chime sounded, alerting us all to an addition in the chat. "I changed my answer," he said.

I wouldn't change any rules, he had posted. They are all for my own good.

We Shall See

The calendars on the bulletin board were turned to March  2020 and the list of homeroom students was outdated as well when I entered my classroom this morning for the first time this school year. When people insist that it's time to open school now, we bristle, because school has been in full session since September, despite access to the buildings being quite limited. The 50+ hours a week we teachers have been putting in are testament.

But here I am, tweaking my classroom layout and doing a tech check on the equipment I will use to teach "concurrently"-- some students in person, others virtually, all at the same time. I'm also acclimating to wearing a mask all day, which may end up being the most challenging part of the model for me. I do have hopes that being in person, some of the time, will benefit some of the kids, and that the mitigation our district has promised will be enough to keep everyone safe, and I can only do what I can do.

Rumi wrote:

The same wind that uproots trees

makes the grasses shine. 

Time to shine. 

Not as Smart as You Think, Watch

Heidi and I rely on our smart watches to track our activity and exercise. Sometimes? That's a good thing, like when we head out for a walk or do a work out because we're behind on our rings. Sometimes, it's demotivating, like when one of us says, I don't have shit today! Why bother? and then plops down on the couch with some ice cream. 

A little while ago, I was in the middle-- I got my exercise and stand goals, but my activity goal seems unreachable. I could blame it on the cold or the fact that I spent a good chunk of the day in front of a screen working on grades, but tonight I shrugged it off and vowed to do better tomorrow. 

As I was verbally processing my decision, Heidi looked at her watch and noticed all her goals were at zero. Obviously a glitch-- she restarted her watch twice before she heard the little chime congratulating her for standing or something. 

"I can't believe none of the apps checked in with me all day!" she griped.

"I know!" I said. "As far as they're aware, you haven't moved since midnight! They should have been all over you to get the hell up!"

"Or call 911!" she added.

The Current Crisis

Yesterday I was enjoying a remote lunch with the colleagues I used to eat with every day before the pandemic. We were chatting about this and that: the weather, students, return to school, and of course, vaccines. Which one will your parents get? Did you have a reaction to the second dose?  How effective is P or M or J against the various variants? What company is closest to having the next approved vaccine?

"A year ago who would have thought we would be so interested and well-versed in big pharma?" I laughed. "I doubt I could have named a single company!"

"Maybe the one that was responsible for the opioid crisis?" Liz suggested.

"Probably," I said, thinking. "Who was that again?"

Err... 

As well-read and knowledgeable as the three of us are (clearly evidenced by our awesome 9 out of 11 on the NY Times weekly news quiz-- equal or better than 88% of other readers!), we all drew a blank.

I guess there's only so much room for misfortune in any brain, or three.

17 Syllables

Friday is reading day in homeroom and our school always provides a great book talk from a staff member to inspire the kids and give them some good ideas about their next read. Today one of the counselors recommended Morning Haiku by Sonia Sanchez, a celebration and commemoration of the lives of revered African American artists and activists. As a follow up activity, the students were asked to write haikus for dedicated to people who inspired them.

The haiku is a deceptively simple form of verse. So often, young writers tick off the 5-7-5 syllables and call it a poem, and that is what most of my homeroom students did today. What they didn't take into consideration was how serious an editor I am. Those first 17 syllables they write usually reveal the topic, but not much more, and I love collaborating with poets, digging into their intention, meaning, and word choice, to find a way to use every syllable to its fullest advantage. 

Fortunately? A short poem is quick to revise, and in the 20 minutes we had, the kids submitted draft after draft in staccato quick fire, rearranging lines, cutting adverbs, and paring their syllables to uncover the essence of inspiration. 

"Do you like this draft better?" I always ask. "You don't have to say yes-- just be honest."

"Yah!" one student told me today. "I'm going to take it to my parents right now!"