If I Know You

Lately Heidi has had a bee in her bonnet, or perhaps more seasonal and precise, a bat in her belfry, about her Halloween costume. This year she plans to go as Maleficent, the evil queen from Sleeping Beauty, and Lucy and the cats are going to dress as her bat minions. So yesterday as soon as our conferences were over we headed to Spirit Halloween where we found her costume, and subsequently ordered some bat wings for our pets. 

She was so excited that she tried it on this morning to preview the look. After the two of us thoroughly discussed the headpiece (cool), and cape-caftan gown (also kind of cool), and what her make up would be like, she decided to go show her friend down the way.

"You're just going to walk around the neighborhood dressed like Maleficent?" I asked. 

"Yep!" she answered cheerfully and out the door she went. 

I could hear though the kitchen window when she ran into our next door neighbor. "You look amazing!" she said, “so elegant and evil!” and then they proceeded to discuss the make up plan again.

"What about a staff?" our neighbor asked. "There's something very empowering about carrying a staff."

We had actually debated the staff situation at length, and Heidi finally decided against one because it would get in the way when she was walking Lucy.

"Well you look very elegant, and comfortable, too," our neighbor continued. "I love a caftan!"

Just then another neighbor happened by. "Why are you dressed up?" she asked.

"Who's dressed up?" the first neighbor asked and the three of them were still cracking up when yet another neighbor came upon the scene. 

"I have come to receive my punishment," she bowed to Heidi.

"Just stay away from spinning wheels," the other neighbor advised. 

A little while later Heidi came back inside. "It's a hit!" she reported.

I would say so.

Why Do They Have to Be So Good?

I confess that, despite the many years of experience I have with it, I often dread conference day. I have more than a little social anxiety about spending the day with a bunch of people I don't know, even for a good cause.

Things got a little better when we moved to student-led conferences: like so many things about middle school, the novelty of that model carries the day with sixth grade students and their parents alike. And it is true that once I shift into teacher-gear, the meetings themselves go quite well, but I am always happy when they are over.

As I am this afternoon, but I was reminded many times throughout the course of the day why we do conferences. For example, there was the student who said at least 10 times as many words today as I have heard her say all year. "She's not quiet at home!" her mother told me through the Thai language interpreter who was dialed in through the mobile phone I held close to the screen. I also learned that one of my students speaks Russian with his mother, another has 2 older brothers also at our school, and still another who is doing phenomenally academically doesn't feel like he has many friends. 

One of the kids mentioned in passing that his teachers talk too fast and that he is too shy to ever say anything when working in a group. And another said that the most surprising thing about middle school is all the profanity scrawled in the bathrooms and dropped carelessly in the hallways between class-- to her school is sort of a Lord of the Flies meets KidTown situation, but not so bad as to tell an adult about it. 

Pretty much every student had something surprising and relevant to share, and I was reminded again and again that as much as I personally dislike them, I also must admit that they are an important tool to support our students.

Titles Tell Their Own Tales

To prepare for a mini-lesson on crafting a "terrific title" for their personal narratives, I asked my students to consider the question of if their life was a book, what it would be called. I was a little surprised by how underwhelmed most of them seemed with their stories so far, giving them titles such as 

My Very Dull Monstrous Life
Sean's Unlucky Adventures
Downhill
A Boring Life
The Worst Book Ever
An Insignificant Life, or Don't Read This
A Boring, Depressing, Lazy Child
I Am Tired
The Most Unfortunate Girl in the World (But Still a Very Interesting Person)
A Bizarre Adventure
Life is Life
My Life Story
Diana's Unlucky Adventures
My Life's a Crisis
The Standard Life of Juliet
Unexpected
The Longest, Most Boring Book in the World
Misadventures of McKenna
Daily Life of a Kid
Amazingly Normal Adventures
Just ?
Never Ending

It occurred to me as we talked that the COVID crisis, which is going on 20 months now with no real end in sight, is just a little less than 15% of their entire lives, and closer to 20% of their conscious lives. Clearly it has taken a toll.

Even so, there were a few titles that might excite a prospective reader:

Talking to My Shadow
Carnival Time
Sapnap
Welcome to Jurassic Park
The Absurd Actions of Adventure Girl
Tiny Pencil Stealer
Army Brat
The Idiot of Middle School Strikes Back
A Secret that Won't Be Told

In addition to each being more of an invitation and less of a label, there's some resiliency in them, I think. 

If it's Good Enough for Superman

I haven't worn my exercise tights for a while. Back when stay-at-home orders were issued, they evolved from gym clothes to live-in clothes, and they were a go-to through virtual learning and right up to our return to school last spring. Once we were back in the building, though, it seemed unlikely that I could get a workout in on any kind of break, and as comfortable as they were, tights seemed a little too cas, even for me. 

Of course summer is too hot for any such garment, and now we are back at school full time again, so my nice little pile of tights with their practical side pockets has gone ignored, until today. A cool snap has given our area relief from some extended summery warmth, and at first the chilly mornings followed by warmer afternoons had me scratching my head for what to wear when I got home for school, but today? The answer was clear: Girl! Pull on a pair of tights! And so I did, even if it was just to walk down the big hill to the grocery and back up again with my dinner provisions.

I'm not gonna lie-- the old tights felt a little, well, tight, and after a summer of shorts I needed to make peace with just how close they were. But I did that on the walk to the store, where I filled three bags worth of groceries before hefting them back up the hill. 

On the way home I passed a neighbor. "Where have you been?" she asked.

"The grocery store," I answered.

"The one down the hill?" she replied with surprise.

"Yeah," I shrugged. 

"Impressive!" she said.

"It's not really that far--" I started.

"Still!" she interrupted. "The groceries! That's a load. And you're looking strong!"

I considering arguing, but then I thought better of it. "Thanks!" I said with a mock flex and a squat. 

We laughed, and as I strode on up the hill, the tights were feeling pretty good.

Euphemistically

Our sixth grade team is planning a little outdoor team-building get-to-know-you event for the morning of our early-release day next week. We want to get the kids moving in the fresh, October air, so the activities we have in mind are a variety of classic playground and field-day games that groups can cooperate and compete in. 

As we brainstormed the specifics the other day, someone mentioned Red light-Green light, which is enjoying renewed popularity because of its association with Squid Game, the wildly successful Netflix series from Korea. "Except with no guns, of course" the teacher added.

Through conversational free-association the game Red Rover, Red Rover was mentioned. "I wouldn't play that in this day and age," one of the team said. "Can you imagine? The kids would totally clothesline each other and there would be a law suit for sure."

We all sighed and nodded in agreement that time's have certainly changed.

"What about Steal the Bacon?" I suggested. "That's fun." I paused and considered. "But maybe we should call it Borrow the Organic Tofu Without Permission, so we can avoid any controversy!"

Re-entry Pains

There was a soft knock and a little jiggle at the door about 20 minutes before 1st period ended today. I craned my neck to peer out the interior windows and spotted a student who has been out of school for a few weeks. 

Even though she did a good job keeping up with her assignments, she looked more than a little glum when she figured out the door situation and stepped into the room. 

"Look who's back!" I announced heartily, and the other kids looked up from their writing with slight acknowledgement. Did I mention she's been out a while? 

"Welcome back!" I said to her. "I'm really glad to see you!" 

She gave me a nod.

"Seriously!" I told her. "It's been so long you forgot how to use the door!"

And that got a little laugh. I hope tomorrow will be better.

Bravo Pomodoro

A few years ago a friend told me about the Pomodoro Technique of time management. Named after a tomato-shaped kitchen timer, the premise of the method is a 25 minute-on, five-minute off routine, with a longer break after a couple of hours. She was using it to get some research done for her dissertation, and the structure of it helped her be more productive working from home. 

I've thought of that conversation more than a few times since then, but yesterday was the first time I tried the technique out. I had a lot of student assignments to grade, and I was resistant to even starting. But, I was behind on that task, and with conferences coming up next week, I needed to update my grade book. So I set the timer and then set to work. Twenty-five minutes flew by, and although the rules of the method insist on starting and stopping on time, I found myself continuing past the alarm. The five minute break also seemed a little longer than I expected, especially when I was doing kettle-bell swings or punch squats with dumbbells.

In any event, I got a lot done, certainly more than I have the past few weekends, and I would definitely give the pomodoro an encore.