Mutable

Even though it has been chillier than usual here in the mid-Atlantic these first days of October, we refuse to turn the heat on at this time of year. Just knowing that we'll certainly need to switch on the air conditioning at some point before autumn begins in earnest makes it seem silly to change the setting on the thermostat. 

That said, 61 degrees indoors is a wee bit nippy to be padding around the place barefoot.

Fortunately?

Temps are rising, the firewood lady rang the doorbell today, and we have plenty of fleece and flannel to keep us warm.

Let's Shake on It

I was feeling even more frustrated than usual when I sent my 4th period class to lunch. Despite my commitment to abiding by the never speak ill of others precept, I complained bitterly to my lunch buddies. "I hate my 4th period class! They are total a-holes!" Of course I eagerly shared the evidence for my proclamations: 

the kid who copied and pasted an entire list of rhyming words, after being specifically instructed not to, and then lied about it (when I bluffed and told him I could look at the HTML code on his response to see where it came from, he gave it up immediately) 

the boys who were crashing their tables into each other and throwing highlighters 

the kid who wrote Ur dad on every single sensory detail anchor chart (this because last week I expressly forbade him from using the expression your mom) 

the kids who had completed less than half of their classwork when it was time for lunch because they "forgot" 

and the kid who posted tree, pee, tea, and virginity for his rhyming words. 

And my teacher friends were sympathetic; they, too are struggling to tame this new group of sixth graders. Deep down, though, I felt like I had to flip the script on this class, and I needed to do it sooner, rather than later. But when they came charging back into the room after lunch, I stopped them crossly, and directed them to line up outside the door. 

Rather than scold them into a compliant line, which Im sure they expected, I invited them to come back in, one at a time, and as each entered I held out my hand, and when they shook it, I clapped my left hand over theirs and made eye contact. I welcomed them back by name and asked if they were ready to learn and do their best. Every one assured me that they were, and I smiled and told them how glad I was to hear it.

And although it was far from a perfect class, it was much better, and I didn't hate them any more.

I Blame the Former Administration

 We were doing a quick mini-lesson on rhyming couplets when a student raised her hand to clarify. "Rhyming words don't have to spelled the same," she confirmed, "they just have to sound the same, right?"

"Exactly," I told her. "Rhyming is a sound tool. Take for example these words-- and I wrote sleigh, way, and Santa Fe. I made my way to Santa Fe on a sleigh," I laughed.

"That's stupid," said another student. "There's no snow in Santa Fe." 

"I beg your pardon," I said, "there certainly is. In fact, both times I've been there, it has snowed."

"No," he insisted. "It's too warm to snow in Southern California."

"Santa Fe is New Mexico," I said.

"Whatever," he replied. "It's hot in New Mexico, too."

"Not all the time," I told him, "and Santa Fe is in the mountains. Have you ever been there?'

"No," he shook his head dismissively.

"Well, I have, and I've literally seen snow there twice!" I said.

"It doesn't snow there," he repeated. "It doesn't snow there."

"Why don't we move on with rhyming couplets," I suggested.

Time and Again

Some friends of ours attended a formal, evening wedding last night, and shared some pictures over social media, he in a tux and she in a full-length, fishtail style gown with a flirty ruffle at the hem. Her hair was pulled back into a chignon, and his was combed back. 

"They look like they're from the 20s!" I said when Heidi showed me the picture. Then I laughed, because they are from the 20s, just not the 1920s that I was thinking of.

I thought then that the more memories I accumulate as I age, the more curious time and its passage seem. One week ago I was at the Elton John show, three years ago my mom was admitted to the hospital for what would be the last time, and seventeen years ago we were sitting at our dining room table celebrating Emily's birthday a day early. The boys were 10 and 13, Vic and Judy were there, and just as we sat down to eat the phone rang. It was Jordan, with the happy news that Richard Oliver had been born. We all cheered and drank a toast to the newest member of our family.

A lot has changed since then, but not celebrating Richard. Happy Birthday to him!

The Right Clothes

Today dawned gray and soggy as the remnants of Hurricane Ian continued their slow pass over our area. After having received my COVID booster yesterday, and still nursing that nasty cold, hunkering down at home with a blanket and some hot tea seemed like a good plan for the day. 

So much so, that I was a little surprised to see people walking and driving around outside, because my hurricane response was just that sensible. But one thing gave way to another: first, the matter of breakfast got me out of my chair, then the dog needed to go out, a shower seemed prudent, and a trip to the grocery store was also nearing necessary. 

So I chose to outfit myself in jeans and boots and a long-sleeved t-shirt, took a couple of Advil, popped a baseball cap on my head and zipped up my LLBean raincoat. Once outside, I realized that fresh air, and activity, and engagement with the larger world would be much better for me than sitting around all day, and I even felt a certain sense of satisfaction at being properly attired for a day like today. 

It reminded me of the Norwegian expression, There's no such thing as bad weather, only the wrong clothes, which is a little more true around here at this time of year than in the hot and humid summer, and I resolved to make it a point to get outside a little more often.

Says Who?

 The American education system is failing its students," a sixth grader told me the other day.

"How's that?" I asked.

"It was created over a hundred years ago," he told me rapidly, "and it hasn't changed at all since then. It is preparing students for minimum wage jobs that won't be here in ten years, because robots will do them."

"Better give me your iPad then," I said, "you don't need that to prepare for a non-existent job."

He blinked.

"No really," I said. "Where's your evidence for this claim?"

"Oh, I have lots of evidence," he assured me. "Lots."

"Like what?" I probed.

"The system was created over a hundred years ago, and it hasn't changed," he repeated.

"I know for a fact that it has changed," I told him. "It's changed in the 30 years I've been teaching in it, not to mention the time before that when I was a student myself."

"The jobs we're preparing for won't exist!" he insisted.

"Maybe not," I agreed, "but that's why we're teaching you how to think and problem solve, and to find and evaluate the information you need for that," I told him. "So where is your evidence and what is the source of it?"

But it was a debate I couldn't win, because he was stuck on his premise, so I told him we could discuss it more later. Still, when I saw him next a couple of days later, I just couldn't resist needling him a bit. "Good morning!" I welcomed him brightly to class. "Here I am, ready to fail you another day!"

To his credit, he laughed, and I did, too, especially knowing that our argument unit is coming up next.

Practicing Practice

"These kids!" my friend Mary announced with exasperation this morning before the bell rang. "These kids are going to drive me to retire! I'm not sure what I'm missing, but they're not getting it!"

"I know how you feel," I answered, "I'm feeling it, too. There's just no flow, yet."

Another colleague popped her head in the door. "I'm glad someone else is feeling it, too!" she said. "Everything seems like such a slog, so far."

But notice, dear reader, all the words in red. That is classic growth mindset language. So even in our moments of frustration and impatience, deep in our teacher's hearts, we express confidence that we and the kids, with the right kind of effort and practice, will improve our current situation.

What more can we hope for?