Uncomfortable Privilege

On my way to work this morning, I heard a piece on NPR about a proposed law in Florida shielding people from any required training or education that might cause them discomfort because of "race, color, sex, or national origin." The text of the bill specifically mentions inherent racism, privilege, and "adverse treatment to achieve diversity, equity, or inclusion."

But the kicker can be found in this section which makes it unlawful if "an individual should feel discomfort, guilt, anguish, or any other form of psychological distress on account of his or her race, color, sex, or national origin," which basically criminalizes anything that might trigger white fragility.

I mentioned the law to my homeroom during a lesson on Black History Month. 

"That seems wrong," said one student, "but what can we do? We're not in Florida."

"Well," I answered, "some people who disagree strongly enough with the law might boycott Florida."

"But I like Florida!" said another student sadly.

"A lot of people do," I agreed, "but everyone has to follow their conscience."

"Well," he sighed, "at least we still have the Bahamas."

Batting 1000 on 500s

In advance of having foot surgery Heidi proactively ordered herself some jigsaw puzzles to help wile away the time that she would be immobile. If anything at all, we are generally 1000 piece puzzle people-- those seem standard in the sense that they are the ones my family did when we were kids; they are the ones we see most frequently at the vacation homes we rent, and they are the ones that we have done on this recent puzzle kick. 

And yet, when she was shopping, there were a few 500 piece puzzles that looked fun and intriguing. One was on dogs of the world, another was a flower shop with a black lab sitting in the doorway. On Saturday morning, we pulled out Dogs of the World, propped up Heidi's foot on one of the dining room chairs, and started sorting pieces. It was not an easy puzzle, but it was very manageable, and after a fun couple of hours, done.

"I kind of like these 500 piecers," I told Heidi. "They seem to require a much shorter time commitment, but they are still challenging."

The next day we tested the theory and assembled the Wonder & Bloom puzzle. That one only took a few hours as well. I think we may have entered a new phase of this hobby!

Sliding Forward

So, I was telling my neighbor about the whole curling-Cortina conversation I had with my TA, and she told me that if I was serious about curling, she knew of a place where we could go and curl! 

"I think it's kind of like a bowling alley with ice," she said.

"I assume you can rent the shoes then," I noted, "because those are definitely clutch." I laughed. "I'm in! Just tell me where and when!"

Because? If I actually go curling? Can a trip to Cortina be far behind?"

Adventure Planning

 "Does anyone even know the rules of curling?" I asked my homeroom the other day. It was opening ceremonies -11 hours and we were all exploring the Winter Olympics website with the direction that we would each share something of interest after 15 minutes. I discovered that the preliminary rounds of curling had already began. In fact they were going on right then. "What are the brooms for?"

"To sweep the ice so the sliding thing will go where you want it," someone told me.

I clicked on the video feed of the United States versus Norway, and we watched as the athletes aimed their stones and slid them down the ice toward the target area. "What are those shoes?" I asked as their teammate followed the stone along with something that looked like more of a Swiffer than a broom, sometimes polishing the ice ahead, sometimes not. "They can literally walk on ice with them!"

"I think they're like little skis," one of the students suggested.

"Maybe," I said doubtfully as the stone knocked a couple other stones away and people cheered. "It's like Bocce, right?" I noted. "Whoever is closest to the center wins the round, and they score points for all of their stones that are closer than the other teams?" I nodded. "I get it now. It looks kind of fun! With the right shoes, I mean." I walked over to my desk and jotted "curling" on a post-it note.

A little while later we were talking about the things we had noticed, and one student showed us several mascots from past games. "Where are the next Winter Olympics?" I asked. 

A few kids tapped their iPads. "Milano-Cortina?" someone answered.

"Really?" I said. "That's awesome. It is beautiful there!" I went back to my desk and added "Cortina 2026" to my post-it note. Why not? I thought. 

The Legend?

I was cooking dinner when my phone buzzed.

AND what I didn't say?

I did win that t-shirt for trivia on the Alaska cruise!

Banking It

I was making sub plans this afternoon because I'll be out tomorrow. Heidi is having a minor surgery on her foot, and it's my spousal privilege to be there for her. 

Over the years, I've developed a template to make sub plan writing quick and easy: I keep all the old documents and edit them for the next job. That means I have a record of all of my planned absences, and with the exception of my mom's illness, I've been fortunate that, over the last 29 years, they have all been planned. I've accrued myself quite a bit of leave since 1993, knock on wood I never need it. 

For instance, this will be only the third day I've missed this school year, which is pretty good for February. Say what you want, though, about virtual teaching, but last year? I had zero absences. And that's a record.

A Long Way Around

We were talking about the Lunar New Year in homeroom this morning. Most of the sixth graders are tigers, too. It's a fun coincidence that sixth grade is the year when most kids turn 12, and so that year is always their year. "I'm a tiger, too!" I told them in the spirit of connection and community.

"What tiger are you?" asked one particularly savvy celebrant.

"Water," I answered.

"That's this year, too," she noted, and then paused. "But don't they only repeat every 60 years?"

"Wait, what?" another kid interrupted. "Does that mean you're 60?"

"Almost," I admitted.

"I can't believe it!" several students said.

"Me neither," I told them. "Me neither."