What the Devil?

When it came to TV and the movies, I used to love a good serial killer or true crime drama. Malicious or mean, villains and their evil actions were as easy to watch as the popcorn was to munch: hot and salty and forgotten the moment the house lights came up. These days, though, with all the negativity in the real world, I have found it almost impossible to escape into the fictional world of TV. Everything is too sad, or too spiteful, or too violent, or too callous, or too unjust to enjoy. I've even taken a break from The Crown; they lost me when the queen told her son that no one, in the kingdom, the palace, or the family cares what he thinks. 

Googling "nice shows" will only get you so far, but there are a raft of sites that will tell you what to watch next based on what you liked before. Somehow, through a combination of scrolling and clicking, I found my way to a list that had the show Lucifer on it. Perhaps you, like I did, might think that a show about the devil is the opposite of what I was looking for, but we, friends, would be wrong. 

Based on a character created by, well, God, and a situation invented by Neil Gaiman for DC Comics, the series is about how Lucifer, having grown tired of Hell, moves to LA and opens a nightclub. Through a series of events, he becomes a consultant to the LAPD, using his unique abilities to question people of interest and uncover deeply buried clues. The show is irreverent and funny, with playful dialogue and silly situations. And although he expects selfishness and cruelty from all he meets, Lucifer Morningstar (as he is redundantly known) is more complex than either Milton or the Books of Ezekiel and Isaiah would lead you to believe. 

We are only a few episodes in, but redemption is a big theme. What could be more positive and feel-good than that?

Consider the Sweet Potato

I.

The best way to cook a sweet potato, according to Nik Sharma, on the podcast the Genius Tapes, is to both steam and roast it. Steaming it breaks down its fibers and gives the veggie a creamy texture, but roasting it “releases at least 17 more aromatic molecules than boiling or microwaving.” As such, Sharma recommends a hybrid, 2-stage method involving aluminum foil. The result? A creamy and complex sweet potato. I have tried it myself, and I can vouch for the technique.

II.

When I was growing up, the one time a year that sweet potatoes were always served was on Thanksgiving. Then, my aunt would boil and mash them with butter and brown sugar and top them off with mini-marshmallows toasted under the broiler. They were gooey and sweet, any child’s dream, and I couldn't stand them.

III.

My sister has a friend who went through a phase in college where she ate a big baked sweet potato for dinner every single night. She literally turned a light shade of orange from all the beta-carotene. 

IV.

There is a difference between sweet potatoes and yams, but no one is quite sure what it is. One is starchier, one is sweeter; one can be purple or orange or white. One is monocot, and one is dicot. I used to think the orange things we ate at Thanksgiving were sweet potatoes, then a few years later I was sure they were yams, but now I think they were definitely sweet potatoes. Maybe. 

V.

Every year, we get at least 10 pounds of sweet potatoes from our winter CSA share. It might seem like a lot for a couple of little 50-something ladies to consume over the course of a few months, but they keep very well, and we find lots of ways to use them: diced in soup and stew, mashed for muffins, riced for gnocchi, grated for pancakes, home-fried with onions and eggs, spiraled and crisped browned in the oven, minced and added to risotto, and of course, both steamed and roasted. Don't worry, we get that vitamin A!

Coda

We've only been back in the building for a few days, but already the weekends are filling up like a bucket under a leaking roof. Where does the time go?

Fortunately, there is no remedy for a busy day like a simple supper. Hello scrambled eggs, salad, and toast!

Mask-capades

Perhaps the hardest part for me so far of returning to the school building is wearing a mask all day. I have a wide assortment of face coverings, but I haven't found any that remain comfortable for much longer than 30 minutes. So, I always take advantage of the rule allowing us to remove our masks when we are alone in a classroom with the door closed.

But I was halfway down the hallway at school this afternoon when I realized I wasn't wearing a mask. Even though the building was almost deserted, and no one else was in sight, my eyes widened and I began to feel a little panicky. Just then, a colleague turned the corner. 

"I forgot my mask!"

"You're not wearing a mask!" we said in unison.

I spun on my heel, clapped one hand over my nose, and then pulled my turtleneck up and over my mouth, speed walking back toward my room. "Sorry," I added over my shoulder.

Back in my room, I grabbed one of the many masks on my desk and put it on. I sighed, plopped down in my chair, and put my hands in the pocket of my hoodie, where I found a mask that was in there all along. Shaking my head, I stretched my legs and stuffed my hands into my side pockets. There was another mask in the left side. 

Evidently? I know myself well enough to be prepared for those moments of forgetfulness, but not well enough to think that I actually am prepared for those moments of forgetfulness. 

Maybe I'll just keep my mask on at school.

Pragmatics

When I signed off for my last (scheduled) fully virtual classes of the year today, it was with an enthusiastic, "Have a great weekend and I'll see you on Tuesday!" I paused and added, "Some of you in person."

"Nooooo!" groaned one student.

"I wish I was coming back," sighed another.

I empathized with both of them. There is a fair amount of anxiety among all the stakeholders as we transition from distance learning to hybrid. No one knows what it will be like, and there is a bit of buyer's remorse on both sides of the choice to either send your students in person for 2 days a week or keep them home for the rest of the year.

"Listen," I told them. "Your families chose what they think is best for you. Our class is not going to change-- we will all be here together, some in person, most at home, but we will make it work for everybody, right?"

"Oh I'm not worried about that," responded the first student. "I just don't want to have to get up earlier."

Space and Grace

"I'm going to come home right after school!" I vowed when I returned to the building, but two days in I am already seduced by the sun shining in through that window, as it has so many afternoons in the last 27 years, warming me as my fingers fly over keyboard and mouse, crafting the lessons that will become skills and knowledge in the days to come. 

Even though my desk has been moved to allow for six feet between me and the tidy rows of desks a handful of students will occupy next week, those four walls have witnessed my entire career-- countless inhales and exhales and all the spaces in between. Being present in that place after a year of teaching remotely is a homecoming. The clock on the wall speeds ahead, and it's already later than I planned.

One day in the not too distant future, I will close the door on that room behind me for the last time. Another teacher will stand at the door to welcome the students, and maybe sigh with a little relief when they charge off to the rest of their day, leaving behind a quiet space to work and plan for the learning ahead.

Reality Check

We showed a series of safety videos today at school in order to prepare those students who are returning to the school building next week and the week after. Modeled on the TV series Stranger Things, the videos ran through the rules and safety requirements in a humorous and witty way. 

The mitigations are hardly surprising, especially for a community that the NY Times designates as "Very High Risk" for COVID-19: from arrival to dismissal, the middle school kids are expected to stay six feet apart and wear their masks in most situations-- the classroom, the hallways, and the restrooms. At lunch, masks can be removed while eating, but students will be seated at desks set at six foot intervals with plastic shields. There is also a daily sign-in procedure that includes health screening and temperature check, and students must sign out any time they leave their assigned room during class.

"What do you guys think?" I asked my homeroom afterward.

"The videos were good, but the rules are insane!" one student responded. "I predict kids will lose their minds if they have to follow all those! Something has to change!"

"Maybe," I agreed, "but it won't be the rules."