Hybrid Design

My friend Mary and I took a working walk during our planning time today. As we stretched our legs on a mile-long loop through campus and around the neighborhood, we compared notes on today's lesson and what we have coming up next week. 

We also looked up the listing for a tiny, 1900 square foot, 2-bedroom, 2-bath house with some updates ($885,000!). Rounding the corner, Mary spotted a huge, new-construction house down the street. 

"Fancy!" she noted. "They obviously have some serious money-- look at their three Land Rovers in the driveway."

"That used to be one of my favorite houses in the neighborhood," I said, "an old farmhouse with a big porch."

"I'm not saying I don't like the new house," Mary nodded. "I'm just saying it doesn't really fit in here."

"Well, they do have that more traditional facade in the front," I said looking at a wide white gable over a spacious porch. "But that back is all contemporary-- it's like a giant brown box." I paused. "I guess it's business in the front and party in the back."

"Right," Mary agreed, "the mullet of houses!”

And although the hairstyle is enjoying a bit of a comeback, I can’t help thinking those people are going to regret that house. Because it’s never going to grow out. 

Sugar

In the three minutes between third period and lunch today there were some students in my classroom shooting balls at the mini-hoop, others reciting poetry in either a single breath or from memory, and still others brainstorming the most precise sensory details they could about a single place in their favorite season. 

All for a chance at candy, of course. 

I did offer sincere congratulations in the form of a way-to-go-kid elbow bump as an alternative, but there were no takers. Even so, I was richly rewarded by their words and their writing and their joy, even when they did not succeed, and I think they might have been, too.

"It's okay," one student said when I expressed my admiration for the attempt along with my condolences for not quite winning the Jolly Rancher. "It will be fun to try again tomorrow!"

Facial Recognition

Not yet quite used to the timing of our block schedule, I was power-walking into the office and toward the ladies' room at the beginning of lunch today when I locked eyes with a student waiting in the chairs there. He showed no real sign of recognition, but looking at all that was visible above the mask, a mop of wavy, brown hair, hazel eyes, smooth caramel forehead, and ears studded with at least a dozen blingy earrings, I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew him. 

Such interactions are very common at school this year. Just last week a student planted himself in front of me as I stood greeting kids in the hallway. "Hello!" he said with a broad wave.

"Hello!" I said and cocked my head. "Who are you?"

"Dewayne!" he told me. I was thrilled to meet one of my best students from last year in person for the first time, and we spent an animated, if weird, few minutes both catching up and getting to know each other.

Today, as I exited the office on my way back to eat my lunch, I heard that kid in the chairs talking to one of the secretaries as I passed and spun on my heel. "Is that Steven?" I asked.

"It sure is!" the secretary answered. 

"I thought I recognized you!" I told him, "but I wasn't sure."

Turning to the secretary I explained. "He never turned his camera on last year, but that voice..." I laughed and from his eyes, I could tell he was smiling a real, genuine smile. "That voice is unmistakable." I came back into the office. "It is nice to finally meet you, Steven."

Longest Three Weeks Ever

Last week, when one of my students called his classmate "that kid", I gave the group a pep talk about community and offered a reward to anyone who could name everyone in the class. Over the next few days, there were several takers, and I was impressed and heartened by their attention to the other kids in the class. "I know how hard it is," I laughed to my teacher friends at lunch, "because I feel like I just learned the names and faces myself!"

But today, when I scanned the 2 assessment forms I have been charged to complete for some student support meetings, I wished for an N/A or "not yet observed" option on many of the questions. I also wondered if I was somehow coming up short because I couldn't give a 1-5 on tests, peer relationships, or accommodations imperative for success. In the end, I reviewed the available data, and completed the form as best I could.

"Do you know I've only worked five days this year?" my friend Mary sighed this afternoon. She's been out on family leave since the day her father died a couple of week ago, and today was her first day back. "It seems like these kids need to re-learn almost everything."

I sympathized, but it was the five day figure that captured my attention. "Today was six?" I clarified.

She shrugged-- it had been a hard re-entry.

"But, you were out for six days! That means we've only been in school for 12." 

And with block scheduling? I've only seen most of the kids six times!

Now, that explains a lot.

Very Late Summer

It was a busy weekend, and so it was nearly six this evening when we walked up to the garden to harvest anything that might not last until midweek when we will be able to find the time to return. The peppers are finally coming in, some of the tomatoes are enjoying a resurgence, and the shell beans seem to think it's still July; we can thank the hot weather we had last week for that, I think. 

Although we picked briskly and dawdled not at all in the garden, dusk was coming on quickly as we headed home. The cold front this morning brought us some drier air, but there was no chill, yet, and we were comfortable in our shorts and flip flops. Still, the light told us that summer will not linger much longer. As we walked home in the gathering evening we heard some folks out on their decks and patios, enjoying the final hours of the weekend, but the windows, too, cast a warm and golden glow, encouraging a passerby to hurry home.

With a K

 A few days ago at Target we ran into the son of a friend of ours. This young man was also a former student at our school, and so it was fun catching up with him. He had some really good news to share, too. "I had to buy me some more polo shirts," he said, showing us the jewel-toned garments he was carrying. "I got a promotion! I'm a district supervisor now!"

"Congratulations!" I told him "That is awesome!"

"I even get my own office!" he replied. "I have been decorating it all week with pictures of Kobe Bryant."

I was reminded that it was when he was a student at our school that Heidi had hamsters as classroom pets. She generously adopted them from a student who was forced to give them up, but unfortunately, their former owner kept putting the male and female in the same tank together at school, and so soon the two hamsters became seven. (Then they became four, because, well, you know what hamsters do if they feel their environment can't support their young.) It was a rather traumatic time.

Back at Target, I remembered that this guy had adopted one of the baby hamsters and named him Kobe. "Do you have any pictures of Kobe the hamster in your office?" I teased him.

He looked wistful. "Ah, no," he answered. "But that was my first pet, so now it's the answer to all my security questions!"

Eighteen Months Later

I literally scratched my head as I stood in front of the big, new copy machine in the main office. After tapping around a bit on the darkened touch screen, I finally woke the giant up and found that it wasn't really that different from the last copier we had. But when I had to think a minute about where to find some of the settings and controls, it occurred to me that I hadn't made a single copy since before March 13, 2020. Almost all of my instruction had been electronic since then.

"How many trees do you think you saved?" joked a colleague when I told him.

"That's not even the point!" I said, do you know what else I haven't done since that week in March 2020?"

He shook his head.

"Have a full, five-day week of in-person school! None of us have." I pointed at the calendar. "But, get ready... it's happening next week!"