The Zillion of Lights

We laughed a little last year when the proposed school calendar included a day off in observance of Diwali. Maybe it seemed a little over-responsive, but who were we to turn down a day off? 

Yesterday, though, one of our homeroom activities was to watch a short video explaining the holiday to students and, in my case, staff, too. I knew it was a festival of light, but I was genuinely moved by the symbolism and beliefs behind the celebration. 

"Diwali tells us we will make it through these dark times by our internal light," said one of the narrators. 

"It's a reminder that you must nourish your own inner flame," said another. "Diwali is a symbol of hope for humankind. May it bring universal compassion, inner joy of peace, love and awareness and unity to us all."

Joy, radiance, acknowledging the sweetness of life, the triumph of light over darkness, and letting bygones be bygones? I'm in! 

And, how, just how, have I missed Diwali until now?

I May Know a Thing or Two about Writing

In sixth grade English, the first assignment of the quarter is always a reflection on the writing done in the weeks behind us. In order to help the young writers analyze their own writing critically, I take some time to give them my own perspective on areas of strength and places to improve. I put my observations in writing on the comments of their last summative assignment of the quarter, and I invite them to consider my perspective when forming their own evaluations. 

Some do, some don't. A few are actually very perceptive and take the time to offer evidence and reasoning, without prompting, to support their judgments. And it's a good thing they do, because they will be assessed on their analysis. 

One particularly serious student shook her head in wonder this morning as she reviewed her writing. "I think I'm going to get a better grade on my reflection about my writing than I got on my actual writing!" she marveled.

"That's a good step toward better writing in the future!" I told her. "What's your goal going into the second quarter?"

"I'm going to dig deeper and find more meaningful topics!" she declared.

I smiled. That's just what I suggested.

Doctor My Eyes

I took the car in to get it serviced today, and so I had a couple hours in the waiting room. I brought my laptop and graded essays as I sat there, but the TVs on the walls were a little distracting. To my right, a line up of game shows filled the screen, subsiding to soap operas in the afternoon. To my left, it was cable news and entertainment shows.

When I was a kid, daytime TV was targeted at stay-at-home moms, and the ads were full of sparkling kitchens, wholesome food, clear skin, clean laundry, and cute kids. Now it seems like most of the people watching are those who are interested in Medicare supplements, cheap life insurance, and easy to use "Smart" phones. And the contestants competing for the showcases, new cars, and cash are not the fun, excited folks I remember from summers on the couch, but rather desperate, manic people trying way to hard for a windfall.

Or is it me?

The Political is Personal

In advance of election day tomorrow, we had a voting activity today in homeroom. "I don't care about politics!" an eleven-year-old sneered, and I sighed and readied myself for argument. To be honest, his attitude is not uncommon and never has been over the many years I've been teaching. 

And it's hardly a surprise, either. In the last 50 years, voter turnout in the US in presidential election years has been below 60%, and a little under 67% of eligible voters was considered a record in the 2020 presidential election. Here in our little county, (inside the Beltway, mind you) the turnout in 2020 was 79%, a bit below the 82% in 2016. But in an off-year like our gubernatorial race always is? It's only somewhere between 40 and 49 percent of the electorate in Virginia who participate.

Civic engagement can be fostered by schools, but ideally it begins at home, because although there aren't many issues that directly affect middle school students, the same cannot be said for their parents. A little dinnertime discussion about the issues would go a long way in sparking the interest of kids in elections. 

Even so, the roadblock that I often find myself up against when trying to instill the notion that it is important for all of us to pay attention to the issues and the candidates as best we can was removed today. 

"Remember when COVID started and all the schools were closed from March to June?" I asked the student who didn't care about politics. He nodded and so did everyone else. "You know who made the decision to do that? The governor. The same person some people don't think is important enough to vote for." 

I saw by their expressions that I had personalized the election for them. 

"Who are you going to vote for?" someone asked.

"I can't say," I answered. "Go ahead and vote for the candidates you think would do a good job. "

"I hate this guy's commercials!" someone laughed pointing at a name on the mock ballot.

"Oh yeah," I nodded. "My sister went to high school with him."

The class was incredulous.

"Is she going to vote for him?" a student asked, wide-eyed.

"She doesn't live in Virginia," I told them, "but if she did? She would never vote for the guy."

They gasped. "She knows him and she wouldn't vote for him?" somebody shook his head. "He must be pretty bad."

When the Spirit is Willing

For a number of reasons (no trick-or-treaters, no time, no interest) it's been a while since I've carved a pumpkin. A couple of weeks ago, I resolved that this year would end the drought, but to be honest, I've made and broken that promise to myself before. Even so, last night at around 5:30, when dinner was warming in the oven, and we were waiting for our neighbors to join us for our annual Halloween Light Crawl, it seemed like the perfect time to bring that big ol' pumpkin in off the porch and carve a proper jack o'lantern. 

It occurred to me then that I needed the right tools for the job, and I started with a Sharpie and an idea. Next came the utility knife-- the razor gave me more control of cutting than any implement I've used before. Once I had incised my design on the front, I took my keyhole saw and opened the pumpkin at the top. The insides were far stringier than I remembered, more like a spaghetti squash than a pumpkin, and I started excavating them with a big kitchen spoon like my dad used to use for the job. 

It quickly became clear that an implement with a shorter handle would give me the leverage I needed, and I tried first a rice spoon and then a scraper that fit in the palm of my hand. This last was a champ, and I soon had the insides down to a smooth shell. Then it was back to the saw to cut the eyes, nose, and mouth all the way through. A votive on the bottom, and before you could say oogie boogie, my jack o'lantern was lit and on the stoop. 

Later, as we strolled through the neighborhood admiring lights and decorations (but so many fewer than last year-- the stay at home orders really inspired folks last year, and we may never see that level of holiday decor around here again), I noticed how few real pumpkin jack o'lanterns there were. "It's a lot of work to make a real one!" my neighbor said when I voiced my observation.

"I guess you just have to be in the right mood," I agreed.

What Scares You?

In the spirit of Halloween, I asked students to share something they were afraid of. As always, their answers were a combination of predictable, cute, off-beat, and alarming. 

In addition to bugs and spiders, snakes and worms, death and the dark, jellyfish, sharks, roller coasters, heights, clowns and dolls, and their parents when they were mad, these sixth graders were also afraid of disqualifying in swim meets, having a worthless, boring life, how the universe goes on forever, the word 'moist', loneliness, no one loving them for who they are, and me (but I'm pretty sure that was a joke).

Another choice of activity for the day was to write a scary story, with the provision that it had to be appropriate for school. As she was working, one of the students raised her hand and asked if it was okay to have sex in her story.

"You want to have sex in your story?" I asked incredulously.

"IN-sects!" she corrected me with a gasp.

"Oh!" I said with a laugh. "Sure, why not? Bugs are fine! Definitely no sex, though." I wagged my finger and laughed some more.

She was not as amused as I was, though. "Ew, Ms. S," she wrinkled her nose, "just ew."

Maybe I should be afraid of losing my hearing!

Age Related

I was on the fence about dressing up for Halloween this year. I had a few options, but when it came down to it this morning, nothing really seemed right. It was just as well anyway-- at 6:45 am our friend Lauren was in the bathroom with Heidi working on the make up for her magnificent Maleficent incarnation. That being the case, I grabbed a pair of jeans, a turtleneck, some short boots, and a new sweater I bought last weekend and went over to the spare room to get dressed. 

The day was damp and gray, and I was looking forward to wearing the calf-length gray cardigan, despite the fact that Heidi had told me it was a little "old ladyish". Truth be told, I was drawn to all the long sweaters on display because they reminded me a bit of my mom, but I also thought that this particular sweater looked good on me. As it was, I was dressed and ready for some time before Heidi and Lauren finally came down the stairs. Heidi looked amazing, and I said so as I rose to go to school. 

"You're not wearing a costume?" Lauren asked.

"Yeah, I am!" I replied. "I'm going as an old lady."

I was only half joking. Last night I ran to the grocery store after a busy afternoon. After school I had walked up to the garden and worked for an hour before walking on to the house where we pick up our CSA. Loaded down with about 10 pounds of produce, I made the return trip home, and then hopped in the car to run to the store before cooking dinner. At the grocery, I filled a hand basket and quickly scanned my purchases at self-check. My four bags were ready to go when I called the attendant over. 

"I have a coupon and some beer," I told her. 

She took my coupon, but waved my ID aside. "I don't need to see that!" she assured me. "Let's make sure you get this discount, too!" she said and scanned a barcode she pulled from her pocket. 

"Thanks!" I replied and pulled the little wallet attachment off my phone to pay. My stomach twisted when I saw nothing but my driver's license and shopper's card in there. I remembered giving my credit card to Heidi the day before so she could return something, and I knew for certain that right now? I had no way of paying for my groceries.

"I'm in kind of a bind here," I confessed with more than a little embarrassment to the attendant once she returned. 

We went through my options, and she kindly agreed to take my groceries to customer service while I went to get my credit card. "You won't have to check out again," she assured me, and I dashed down to my car and sped home.

When I returned to the store about 15 minutes later, she waved as I passed and motioned to the customer service desk. But the manager there couldn't find a receipt, and it turned out that the kiosk I had used was out of paper, so they opened a register for me, and a cashier began unbagging, scanning, and rebagging my stuff. 

"I had a 10 dollar coupon," I told her, "is there any way I can get that applied again?"

She called the helpful lady over, and she brought my coupon and apologized that I had to be rung out again.

I thanked her again for all her help, and she turned to go back to her own station.

"Oh, and don't forget," she said over her shoulder to her coworker, "she gets the senior discount!"