Does it Show?

45 minutes before the wedding ceremony I was standing on a chair in my suit helping Nadika zip-tie some gorgeous floral arrangements to the trellis. The PVC material of the arbor was bulkier than she had expected, and we were combining the floral zip ties to get them around the frame when one of the officiants approached me. "Are you the venue coordinator?" she asked.

I laughed. "Nope, I'm just one of the guests who happens to know the florist!"

She was surprised. "You look so in charge," she explained.

"Just helpful," I told her, "but I do like to be in charge. Maybe that's what you were responding to!"

Watch Out Terry!

Many years ago, at a time when I kept careful track of students’ independent reading choices and progress, I was going through the weekly routine of a check-in and mini-conference. On those days I would record what each kid was reading, what page they were on, and ask a couple of comprehension questions in the form of a conversation about their book. The method was effective, whether I had read the book myself or not, and I learned a lot about adolescent literature, both current and classic. It also helped that the students were required to have their books with them.

One day, I asked a student what she was reading, and she told me the title of the book was Watch Out Terry! a book I had never heard of. This particular girl was not always a committed reader, and I had reason to doubt her truthfulness. I asked a few questions about plot and character, and her convoluted replies did nothing to reassure me.

“I never heard of that book,” I finally told her. “Does it even exist?”

She looked at me appraisingly and accepted the challenge. “Yes,” she insisted. “I was reading it this morning.”

“Can I see it?” I asked.

“I don’t have it,” she replied in a dismissive tone, as if I was crazy for asking.

“Where is it?” I rejoined with a bit of an edge in my voice, because truthfully, she was pushing my buttons.

“In my locker,” she shrugged.

“Let’s go get it,” I said.

Impressively, her eyes widened only the tiniest bit, and she stood right up and said okay.

Of course it wasn’t in her locker, or anywhere else, because the book did not exist. The fact that she lied so brazenly made me mad, though, and I wrote up the incident in detail, and she received some consequences from the assistant principal. Yeah. I showed her.

A month or two later that particular student ended up being identified as emotionally disabled, and she was put in Heidi’s class, a program with the highest level of support for kids who needed it.

Whenever I remember this incident now, it always makes me think of how much I have changed. If the same thing happened again, there is no way I would take a kid to their locker just to prove that I knew they were lying. It’s a dumb waste of time that can be avoided by building relationships with students so that they don’t feel like they need to lie to you, and showing a little grace when they do.

Compressed Schedule

We are going out of town for a wedding tomorrow, and even though we will be back on Sunday, such an event puts a serious cramp in our weekend errand routine. 

To compensate a bit, I stayed at school until 4 trying to get a jump on next week, then I dashed through the deserted hallways and out into the warm, second summer afternoon. In my car I headed off to pick up an order I’d placed and find a storage bin to organize a few things. Next I stopped at Target for some staples and cleaning supplies, before going to find a nail salon to get my toe nails done for the sparkly sandals that go with my outfit. 

And that’s where I am now— multitasking, writing my daily post and enjoying a spa pedi. I suppose there could be worse ways to spend a Friday afternoon. 

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.