The House Usually Wins

I had a check-for-understanding quiz game as part of my lesson for today. Such an activity is usually pretty fun and popular, and I always add a little extra incentive by promising a piece of candy to the winners. Today, because it was newly-introduced material, I had the students work in teams with a single device so that they could talk and use their notes to answer the questions. 

Sometimes in these quiz games, if a player or team gets too far behind, they give up and disengage from the activity, which is understandable and a flaw in this particular version of the gamification of learning. To compensate, I often challenge the group to answer a certain number of questions with 100 percent accuracy, that is everybody must answer the question correctly to get credit toward their collective goal.

Today's game started off easy, and my challenge was easy, too. The class quickly answered 6 questions perfectly, earning each person a piece of candy. But then I upped the ante by offering double or nothing. A majority of the teams had to accept my challenge for it to go, and it was fascinating to hear the kids debate the classic dilemma of a bird in the hand versus two in the bush. 

In both cases today, the classes accepted my challenge but failed to bring home the victory. Of course, I knew the last questions were harder, but even though they lost, they were all in right up until the last, and they even listened carefully to my explanation and clarification between questions, which as far as I was concerned?

Was win-win.

Expert Advice

 Monday was the first day of spirit week and the wardrobe challenge was for teachers to dress like kids and kids to dress like teachers. "Are you going to do it?" asked one of my students on Friday, at the end of her conference.

"I think so?" I said. "I guess I could just wear my Adidas stuff."

"That's what I was going to wear!" she said. "To dress like you."

"I don't know then," I shrugged.

'You should dress like me," she suggested, "and I'll dress like you."

"What would I wear?" I asked.

She gave me a big duh look and swept her hand up and down. "Leggings, Crocs, and a T-shirt," she said.

"I can do that!" I agreed.

And I did, but it was cold Monday morning, so I dug out an oversized school sweatshirt I've had for 20 years and pulled that on. When I got to school, my student nodded in approval, and I thanked her for her advice. Later in the day, a few kids on the yearbook came in to take my picture. 

"Wow! You really are dressed like a kid!" one of them, a former student, exclaimed. 

"Thanks!" I said and laughed because I remembered that leggings, Crocs, and a sweatshirt were always always her go-to outfit. 

The Driver I Am

Recently we've made quite a few excursions to the part of our area that lies just to the west of the Beltway. As the crow flies? It is bit more than 7 miles, but when I use my map app and it does what it does-- taking into consideration traffic and such, the recommended route is always to head south and away from our destination, and then follow the Beltway back around. It is double the distance but usually saves more than a few minutes.

And yet? I can rarely bear to go that way, especially when I think of the longer route and consider the faster, more aggressive traffic. Most often I choose to drive through town, taking my chances on the four-lane roads and their stoplights. Oh, don't get me wrong! Both tracks have their drawbacks, but I guess if I have to get jammed up (and it seems like these days, I always do), then I choose the option with more options.

Convenience at What Cost?

Maybe I shouldn't have.

But when a month or so ago I noticed the biometric scanner as I stood in line at the grocery store, I played along and, as the cashier scanned my purchases, I scanned my hand. 

"I haven't actually seen anyone do that yet," she told me in a neutral tone which I read as a mixture of impressed and dubious. "They just installed those this morning."

I laughed and completed my purchase the old-fashioned way, tapping my smartwatch on the reader, and then went on my way.

Heidi was with me yesterday when I returned to the store for the first time since then. "What are you doing?" she asked as I raised and lowered my palm over the small rectangle at the end of the belt.

"Paying for the groceries, I think," I answered, and just then a small chime let me know I was correct. The cashier did not react at all as she handed us our bags, and I assumed the novelty of the system had worn off among the employees.

On the escalator back to the garage, I remembered that I had run back to the car when we first got there because I'd forgotten my phone and its magnetic wallet, and I considered a day when all anyone would need to shop was the swirls on their skin. 

It was kind of cool, but a little terrifying, too.

Character Development

A student came by my room after school the other day, visibly upset. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he explained that he had misunderstood the information about an after-school meeting: it had ended at 3, but his mom wasn't coming to pick him up until 4. "And the wifi in this stupid school sucks" he added, "so I can't even call her on my watch."

"I'm sorry that happened to you," I told him. "You can use this phone to call, though." I pointed to the landline on my desk. 

He sniffled a little and lifted the receiver, and he was almost recovered until he heard his mom's voice when she answered. Then he collapsed into tears again as he explained the mix-up to her. After a few moments, he hung up. "My dad is coming to get me," he reported, his head down.

"Oh, good," I said. "And don't worry, stuff like this happens a lot," I explained. "There's so much going on here, both during the day and after school; it's easy to get confused about the details."

He wiped his face on his sleeve.

"And it seems like it all worked out, right?" I finished.

He nodded and headed out to catch his ride.

The next day I was teaching a lesson on character analysis. One of the videos we show has a vignette about a student who gets very upset over a minor misunderstanding. In the story, after the student leaves the room crying, the teacher tries to keep the class on track, and says, "It looks like Delores is having a bad day."

"And doesn't the teacher handle it beautifully?" I laughed ironically when we were going back over the details of the plot, acknowledging that she seems a bit heartless.

"What would you do?" a student asked.

"I understand where the teacher was coming from," I said, "because I always feel a little anxious when someone is upset. But I would do my best to be empathetic and helpful."

"Has that ever happened?" another student asked, and I raised my eyebrows because it was the same boy from the day before.

"Sure," I replied, tilting my head to examine his face. He seemed guileless. 

"When?" he asked, clearly looking for a good story.

"Well," I started, "just yesterday somebody came in after school, and they were pretty upset."

His face reddened a little. "I bet you were really nice," he said.

"Thanks," I answered. "I tried to be."

Outer Child

A friend texted last night to see if we were going to the farmer's market today so that he and his wife and their little boy might meet us there. At 10 a.m. on a beautiful October Saturday, the place was hopping, and the five of us chatted amiably and slowly explored the market. As we strolled, four-year-old Charlie loved everything, especially the mini donuts, pumpkins, and free samples of apples and cider. 

"It's great that he's having such a good time!" Heidi said. "It kind of reminds me of how awesome it is here."

"Kids are good for that," his mom agreed. "They notice so much and they really appreciate it."

"That's right!" his dad laughed. "Charlie can make just walking down the sidewalk fun!"

A Little Help

Weeks ago I saw an announcement that two of my favorite authors, Ann Patchett and Kate DiCamillo would be appearing together at the Library of Congress. Tickets were free, but reservations were required, so I jumped online and made mine. 

What I didn't realize at the time was that this event would be the night before student-led conferences, a day that still ties me up in knots, even after so many years. When I left school yesterday at 5:00, I knew that the trouble and traffic I might encounter on my way from here to there was daunting enough that, with regret, I decided to skip the appearance.

And I was still sorry to have missed the conversation this morning when I checked my email during a break in conferences. Imagine my delight, then, when one of the newsletters I subscribe to had a link to the recording of the evening. 

I got to spend most of my free time today listening to the two authors banter and offer advice and counsel on reading, writing, and living. It was fun to hang out with a couple of funny, talented and wise ladies, and it made the day just that much easier.