Mayhaps

 "What would you say your slogan is?" one of my homeroom students asked me today.

"You mean my motto?" I clarified.

"Yeah, your catchphrase," he responded.

"Is it Can I talk to you in the hall??" one of his snarkier classmates suggested. He's heard that several times since he's been back in person. "I bet it is!" he doubled down.

"To be honest," I replied, "I wish I never had to say those words again." I tilted my head at him. "But how likely is that?" I asked.

He shrugged, noncommittal.

And there you have it.

Maybe, Maybe Not

"That's an understatement," I said to my friend Mary as we worked on the last unit of the school year.

"Well, it's not hyperbole," she agreed.

"What's the opposite of hyperbole?" I wondered.

"Understatement," Mary answered. 

"Or something with 'hypo'," Heidi suggested as she entered my classroom ready to leave for the day.

"Hy-po-bo-le?" I said, and then laughed uproariously, because it is such a silly sounding word. (Say it! You'll see.)

"Oh the fun we have when English teachers get together," Mary proclaimed.

Later, I decided to do a little research and see if there actually was any such thing as hypobole. Indeed there is, but it is not the opposite of hyperbole. No, the term refers to some sort of rhetorical device where one sets up a string of counterarguments just to knock 'em down. That hypobole does sound kind of fun.

But in fact, the antonym of hyperbole is actually 'litotes' (pronounced lid'-uh-teez), and most often is an understatement phrased in terms of what something is not. 

For example, "Well, it's not hyperbole."

Well! I'm no expert, but it seems like Mary nailed it.

May We Meet Again

Today was the first day of state testing, and as the schedule would have, it the kids who have been virtual all year were slated to come into the building and take their reading SOL. I, too, was scheduled to appear despite the promise of asynchronous Mondays until the end of the year. 

To be honest, it wasn't too bad, there was an in-the-trenches camaraderie among the staff that was there, an attitude that made it easier to get through the planning and tech issues that always plague that first day of testing. (Did I say plague? Yes, yes I did.) 

But the benefit of the day was the 15 minutes or so I spent in the theater where the sixth graders were sent before being shuttled off to their testing groups. There, I met in person at least a dozen kids who until then had been only elementary school photos in my grade book and disembodied voices on the call for class. 

Finding them was a little tricky: does anyone have me for English? I called as I entered the auditorium. There were a few waves, and in most cases the combination of muffled voice and eyes above the mask was actually enough for me to identify them. It was really kind of awesome, that in-person human connection, and although I can't say for sure? I think most of them were smiling behind those masks.

A May Day

Bill and Emily came to help me in the garden today.  And what champion help they were! 

To begin with, Bill tossed several 40 pound bags of top soil up and over the six-foot, barbed-wire topped chain link fence!

Next, Emily completely cleared the fence line of English Ivy. "Getting rid of ivy is a hobby of mine," she said.  Well, have at it, girl!

Then Bill added the topsoil and conditioner to the raised beds and roto-tilled it all in.

Meanwhile, I hammered in an edging for the flower and herb bed that skirts the fence.

Finally, Bill used the pick axe to set the trellis for the beans deep enough into the soil so it would stand by itself, and I planted 7 tomatoes, 5 little okra, a couple of peppers, a coneflower and a tiny little basil plant.

A couple of hours later the plot was looking good, and more importantly? It was in a condition where no one will scold me, at least for a few weeks.

Thanks you guys!

End Note: While researching the title of this post, I discovered that the term mayday originated as a radio call in the 1920's and is derived from a shortened version of the French term "venez m'aider", or come help me!

I Can't Tell

Lately I feel more forgetful and curmudgeonly than ever before. Sometimes I have zero recollection of what trusted sources assure me I said or did, and some days? Cranky is my middle name. 

I would give you a specific example, but I can't think of one right now, and frankly it irritates me that I should have to do that. See what I mean?

My question, though, is this: is it situational-- the stress of living and teaching in these trying times, or could it be that gentle decline of aging? But the follow-up inquiry is perhaps more relevant: how and why does it matter?

I'll keep you posted.

No Happy Ending

My friend Mary came by my classroom just as I was finishing my lunch break. "What are you watching?" she asked, wondering about the urgent British voices murmuring through my computer speaker.

"Oh," I said, and hit pause, considering where to begin. "Yesterday I read a story in the NYTimes about a skull they had recreated the face from. The guy was part of the crew on the Franklin Expedition."

Mary nodded. 

I continued, " I had never heard of the Franklin Expedition, so I read a little bit about it--"

"That's why you're so smart!" Mary said.

"Thanks" I laughed, "and then I wondered if there was a documentary about them. They sailed to the Arctic in the 1840s looking for the Northwest Passage, and they were never heard from again."

"Is that what you were watching?" Mary asked. "Did it have actors? I hate documentaries like that!"

"That's funny you should say that," I told her, "because there are several documentaries dating back to the 90s, and most of them do have re-enactments. I was just thinking how much I hate those, too!"

We exchanged I know, right? nods. "What happened to them has been a mystery since they disappeared," I explained. "Over the years they have found lots of clues, and they even found both ships recently. What I was watching was the trailer for an AMC show from 2018 called The Terror which was the name of one of their ships. It's a dramatization of what might have happened to the expedition from the time they got stuck in the ice until they tried to walk to Canada."

"Well put that on your list to watch!" Mary recommended.

"Maybe," I shrugged, "it looks pretty bleak though. There's one part where a guy is looking through his little brass telescope, and it's so cold that it pulls the skin off around his eye when he lowers it!'

We both cringed.

"Plus, I'm just not sure I can get invested in 10 episodes when I know nobody survives."

Wheeeeee

I sat at my desk and worked through my lunch today. It's a bad habit, I know. 

Before COVID we had a lovely little lunch bunch of teachers who gathered every day in my classroom to relax and chat for at least 20 of the 35 minutes we are allotted. Such gatherings were prohibited by safety protocols when we returned to school this year, and now a larger group meets outside every day. But I kind of need some down time then: after spending 4 1/2 solid hours with people, another big group of folks is a little too much for me. So most days I eat alone and work. 

Not taking a break takes a toll on my productivity, though. Even if it seems like I am getting stuff done, by the end of the day, I'm tired and I don't feel farther ahead. So today I took advantage of the breezy, sunny weather and checked the bike share app on my phone. There were several bikes available at the station by our school, and so I trotted over and checked out an ebike. 20 minutes and 3 miles later, my hair was a mess, but I felt great.