Fruits of My Labor

How long have we had that garden? I asked myself as I wearily trod home this afternoon after spending a couple hours clearing the winter weeds away. After 2 days, the task is probably only 70 percent done, and then there will be soil conditioning and mulching before planting. 

I've been trying to enjoy
All the fruits of my labor

My strategy is to devote an hour or so each day until it is ready, but a deadline looms. Just this morning we got a little nastygram via email reminding us that if gardens are not prepared by May 15, they could be reassigned to one of the 400 people on the waiting list. Jeepers! 

I've been crying for you boy
But truth is my savior

This is the 12th season we have been working on that corner plot. It is the one we got when someone else abandoned it in 2010, probably because it's too shady on the north side and full of wire grass and mugwort roots that come back with a vengeance year after year no matter how much digging and pulling we do. Or maybe they quit because keeping the fence line clear is another time consuming requirement that only gardens on the perimeter have to contend with. 

Baby, sweet baby
If it's all the same

Oh, I would miss my garden sorely were we to give it up, because truth be told, once it's planted for the season, the upkeep and harvesting are a joy. I just got to get it in.

Take the glory any day over the fame
Baby, sweet baby
~Lucinda Williams

Like It's 2020

A year ago I was walking everywhere, painting rocks, solving murder boxes, baking sourdough bread, and working in my garden. Times were fraught, and these things brought me comfort and joy.

Just as they did today.

Not Who You Think

A parent asked me to call and talk him through his son’s missing assignments this afternoon, and I was happy to do so. The archaic phone system at school does not allow long distance calls, and his cell number had an area code that was not local, so I used the Google Voice account I set up for contacting families when we were virtual. I tapped the speaker icon and set my phone on the desk next to me, listening to it ring and composing a voice mail message in my mind. After 5 or 6 rings, I heard someone pick up and say, “It’s probably someone calling to tell me that my car warranty has expired!” And then after a pause there was a cheery “Hello?”

When I identified myself, he laughed. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t recognize the number!”

At least he picked up!

Probably Maybe

In this brave new hybrid world we found it necessary to combine Poem-in-your-Pocket Day with the poetry unit test. And so the usual assignment to select a poem to share, post it on our LMS discussion, and explain why you picked it, became an assessment, too, just by adding the direction to identify at least 2 poet's tools in the poem.

Despite our yearlong focus on providing evidence from the text to support whatever one is saying, most of our young poets left that out. Not only were they unable or willing to cite a part of the poem to explain why they liked it, they didn't even pull out the poet's tools from the text, preferring instead to just add a couple of terms at the bottom and hope they were right.

Many of them didn't even pretend to be certain. Um, simile? someone literally wrote, hyperbole?

Then there was the writer who chose a poem she had written herself: I think I used simile and a little bit of rhyming.

But my favorite was this one: Now I'm no expert, but I think it has a bit of metaphors.

Table Talk

Since I started teaching in 1993, the furniture in my classroom has always been tables-- at my request. My training was all about student collaboration, and the trapezoidal tables the school supplied have been configured and reconfigured into all manner of arrangements over the years. I reckon that those tables are original to the building, making them circa 1974, and vintage for some time now.

My feng shui of teaching has completely gone by the wayside this year, though. "You won't even recognize your classroom!" a colleague told me after a brief foray into the school back when everything was still shut tight, but getting ready for the time when the doors would be forced open one way or another. She may have been right, except that I had been there a week or so earlier, and I knew my tables were gone and replaced by two rows of laminate and plastic desks. 

Even so, I understood. It was as stark a necessity as the orange duct tape on the floors, the bucket of sanitizing wipes by the door, and the masks we all have to wear, all the time in school. But today, when one of the handful of kids I teach in person was pulling some trash out of her desk, a little flash of resentment flared. "Ugh!" I said to my co-educator. "This is the reason I hate desks! Kids are forever leaving stuff in them."

She nodded sympathetically, but I was on a roll. "There's probably trash in all of them!" I proclaimed, and stepping to the nearest one, bent over and peered in dramatically. A quarter sheet of paper was tucked way back in the corner. "See!" I announced and pulled it out, holding it aloft. Then I looked at it. 

It was a straight up middle school love note! 

The writer had my sympathy, for losing such a thing must have been very stressful. And while I'm glad he was writing in my class? Knowing just how far away his attention was from the lesson? Well!

Yet another reason to get rid of the desks! 

Better Than All the Rest

What's the BEST thing EVER? I asked my students today in preparation to teach hyperbole. "Don't overthink it!" I advised. "Just go with your gut."

The first group latched on to the whimsy of it:

Cats, only cats. They are the superior race, and they should rule the world.

dino costumes

my blanket

vacation

the bell at the end of my last class on Friday

the pool on a hot day 

The next group went deep:

life

family and friends

love

books 

And then they went all sixth grade, too:

me

Chik-fil-a

Takis 

duct tape

Nutella 

hot Cheetos 

But of course, the most popular answer was...

VIDEO GAMES!  

But as for myself? I think I may have to agree with the other adults in the room:

coffee

chocolate

ice cream

and of course?

sliced bread 

Road Work

I took today off, but somewhere on I-85 in North Carolina it occurred to me that I could still join my school Leadership Team meeting using my phone. I had completed my driving shift early in the trip, and so I snugged my airpods into my ears and tapped the meeting app. For the next hour I listened to celebrations, professional learning opportunities, testing updates, schedule flexes, and proposed changes for next year, all the while participating via the chat. 

And when it was all over and done with, I knew for sure that at least I was 70 miles closer to home.