Cumulative

When we are finished with our required activities, my homeroom loves to do online geography puzzles, news quizzes, and word games. One of our favorites is Connections by the NY Times. Each day players are given a block of 16 words and the challenge is to sort them into four categories of four words each. The criterion varies; in addition to thematic similarities, it could be a spelling commonality, pronunciation, completing common phrases, or something else.

The other day one of the solutions was bob, weave, cross, hook. "Oh! Those are boxing terms!" I explained as I stood at the smart panel. Then I pantomimed each one.

"You know how to box?" asked a student incredulously.

"I know the basic moves," I disclosed. "I've taken a few classes."

"What haven't you done?" asked another student in admiration.

"Well, I have been around a while," I laughed, "and I like to stay busy!"

Peer Feedback

There is a certain sixth grader in one of my classes who may be a bit more argumentative than necessary. 

Whenever I remind, redirect, or refocus him, instead of returning to the task at hand, he usually tells me why whatever he is doing is acceptable. His tone is often a bit smug, and I, never one to shy away from an argument, am usually willing to elaborate as to what I observed in contrast to what I asked the class to do, sometimes in a firm voice.

We had one of those interactions this morning at the beginning of class. He was having a conversation with another student across the room, and I was ready to start instruction, so I asked them both to turn around and stop talking. The other student complied, but this guy sighed and gave me the stinkeye and remained turned toward the other student rather than pivoting toward the front of the room. When I asked again, he had several reasons why he couldn't move his body and chair, but suffice it to say that he did just that a short time later.

Returning to the question day, I pointed out that it was kindness week and asked everyone to post one thing they could do to increase kindness in our classroom. There were suggestions of giving compliments, lending supplies, listening to me and each other respectfully, and helping in other ways, but five of the 18 students present pointedly wrote that if students stopped arguing with and interrupting the teacher our class would be a much kinder place.

Ouch.

Silver Linings Playbook

As a birthday gift for our neighbor, we signed the three of us up for a 3-hour workshop on Ayurveda which was held today. "Never again!" vowed Heidi as we left our house a little after noon to pick up Lauren.

"Never again what?" I asked.

"No three-hour workshops on the weekends!" she explained. "I already feel like there isn't enough time to get everything done."

"I get it," I nodded, "but let's see how it goes."

As it turned out, the three of us enjoyed the workshop quite a bit, and before we left, expressed our intention of attending the follow-up whenever it was scheduled.

"I can't go to the next one!" Heidi told me when we got home. "I said no more three-hour weekend workshops! It's 4:30 and we still have to walk the dog and go to Target!" she scoffed.

"Oh, we can run errands in a little while," I promised. "Just think-- it's Super Bowl Sunday: we'll have every place to ourselves!"

High Crimes and Misdemeanors

We were looking forward to renewing our Oscar season tradition of a movie and dinner with Bill and Emily when we headed to the theater early this evening. The film was Zone of Interest, which was interesting in its blandness; it seemed to be intentionally boring in order to show how banal evil can be. The movie was hard to watch, but worth the reminder that all manner of horrors can be normalized if we don't take care.

There was another patron in the theater who coughed loudly throughout the show. It was so noticeable that Heidi dug out a mask and put it on. Later, on the way home, our conversation turned to the cougher.

"It was the distraction that bothered me most," I said.  "Maybe the pandemic sensitized me to coughing, but what was more annoying was the disruption. It seems rude to make so much noise in a quiet theater."

"And they could be contagious," Heidi pointed out. "That's just wrong."

Battle Lines

The question of the day was "Who do you think will win the Super Bowl?" and the prediction was dead even, 43 kids for either side. 

And while I wasn't surprised that some expressed their support for Kansas City because they were Taylor Swift fans, I was a little taken aback at the level of animosity expressed toward Taylor Swift: as many kids were rooting for San Francisco because they didn't like her as were supporting the Chiefs because they did.

This, in a community that is politically pretty homogeneous. It's like we're looking for reasons to be polarized.

Live and Let Die

A few days ago I heard shouting from the room across the hall during our planning time and looked up to see a mouse scurry into my room. A few minutes later, the events repeated themselves. Finally, my colleague poked her head in the door. "Are you just going to sit there calmly while that mouse runs back and forth between our rooms?"

I smiled apologetically and shrugged. "The mice don't really bother me," I said. "I make sure there's no food in here and nowhere to nest, but if they run in, I leave them be."

"I knew it!" she said as another teacher joined her at the door. "She's not afraid of them!" They both shook their heads at me.

"I wish I could share your anti-mouse feelings," I laughed.

This afternoon the same duo returned to my door. "Mickey is no more," they informed me. "The glue trap did its job."

I cringed. 

"I knew it!" said one to the other. "She's sad for it!"

"Kinda," I admitted. "That's a tough way to go."

"RIP Mickey!" they laughed as they left.

Less is More

Because it was an early release-anchor day, we had micro-classes today. In contrast to our typical 90-minute blocks every other day, I saw every section for 23 minutes. 

"Why did we even have school today?" moaned several students as they entered the room. 

"You might surprised what we can do in a short time!" I answered cheerfully, knowing that I would be finished teaching by 10:15. "Clear your table of everything but your writing notebook."

"No iPads?" some asked incredulously.

"No iPads," I confirmed. "It's a paper and pencil and partner day."

I gave them a list of high-interest writing prompts, went through each to clarify, and asked them to choose three that they had a good story for. Then I asked for a volunteer to tell me the story, and as they did, I modeled asking clarifying questions. The objective was to help the writers with structure and adding detail. then they partnered up and did the same thing, telling stories and asking questions. With just a few minutes left in the class, I asked them to write the first paragraph of the story in their notebooks,. Then it was time to go.

"Enjoy your afternoon off!" I said as they packed up.

"Can we spend more time on this next class?" someone invariably asked. 

And of course, the answer was "Yes!"