Just Hang Up

I had a sinking feeling when I reached for my phone at school this morning. Scanning my desk, I saw no sign of it, and when I checked the pockets of my down vest, they were empty, too. My phone was at home.

But? Believe it or not, the day went quite well without it. There were only a couple of times I wished I had it-- once to check a password I couldn't remember and then again when I set out for my walk home; I had planned to listen to an audiobook as I hiked the 2+ miles.

I didn't miss any calls, or texts, or news alerts, or social media posts. The world was fine when I found my phone just where I left it, on the dining room table.

State of the Union

In honor of Presidents Day, I asked kids to name their favorite president. I can't say I was surprised when Barack Obama came out on top. Besides his historic election, he was in office when they were born, and they think he's "nice" and "cool". Plus, they like his daughters.

In second place was Lincoln. Most who chose him had a vague notion about slavery, although one liked that he didn't want to be too hard on the Confederates, and someone else appreciated that he was rumored to keep letters and other things in his stovepipe hat.

Washington was a distant third, because, according to more than a few students, he "created" the country and the office of president. A couple of kids liked that he was a general, too.

Jefferson had a few votes, more because our school is named for him than the Declaration of Independence. Teddy Roosevelt was also mentioned twice because of national parks and hunting. Finally, FDR and Reagan had one supporter each. The first because he led the country through WWII and the second because the student's grandfather was a general who worked for him.

Oh, and President Biden had one mention, too, because he beat Donald Trump and he seems like a nice guy, even though he's old.

Holiday Gratitude

We started our 100 Day Writing Challenge a little earlier this year to give ourselves a bit more time to wrap things up at the end. 

Officially, the event starts tomorrow and ends on May 31, but I gave my students a soft opening by providing them the chance to post from last Wednesday when we introduced the challenge, and I was impressed by the 31 kids who made time to write over the long Presidents Day weekend. It seems like we're going to have a good year.

And as always, I was amused and charmed by some of the content. Today we didn't have school, wrote one student. I'm not sure why we didn't, but I'm happy since I got to sleep late.

Today I thank the presidents for letting every person who goes to school have the day off, wrote another.

At least they are grateful!

Unqualified

I had breakfast with an old friend this morning. Ruth and I have known each other since 1991 when we entered a graduate program in education. After we graduated, I got a job at the school where she was already working, but she gave up teaching in public schools a short while later. Since then, she has done a lot of different things, all in education and theater, her first love.

These days, she and her family live just far away enough that we don't see each other as often as we'd like, so it's always great to have a chance to catch up.

"So what's the deal?" she asked me as we sipped our coffee. "Are you retiring or what?"

"It's so funny that you think I would know that with only four months left in the school year," I laughed, "believe it or not, I still haven't made up my mind."

"What's the holdup?" she said.

I shrugged. "If I had something I knew I wanted to do, I would definitely retire," I told her. "As it is, though, I only know what I'm dreading for next year: a new curriculum, going back earlier in August, all the hoops they make us jump through." 

"There must be so many jobs you would be good at!" she replied.

"Maybe," I agreed. "I'm pretty good at job-doing, but I sure don't have the job-finding skillset. I have had the same job for more than 30 years!"

"I know," she nodded. "I helped you get it."

"See what I mean?" I sighed. 

Poking Along

"So my phone got taken away the other day," an 8th-grader told me recently. She was a former student who had stopped by after school to catch up. Or rather to catch me up with her; I could barely get a word in edgewise.

"What happened was my mom said she was going to take it away, and I said, 'You always say that but you never do!' and then she took it away."

"Oof," I managed before she continued.

"And when I told my world geography teacher, he wasn't even sympathetic! He just laughed and said I poked the goat or something," she sighed.

"It's 'poke the bear'," I told her.

"Whatever," she waved her hand. "I actually like 'goat' better because to be honest, my mom is the G.O.A.T," she reported with a shrug. She looked at me as if I was unfamiliar with the term and clarified. "You know? Greatest of all time? My mom is truly the greatest mom of all time."

"Well at least you don't hold grudges," I said.

Connections

The grand finale of Kindness Week was for each homeroom to collaborate and create a poster that expressed why kindness matters. "The most creative gets a prize," I informed my group, "so let's think about it."

We brainstormed, tossing ideas back and forth, but nothing really captured our attention. "Let's do Connections," suggested a student after a while.

"No!" I said, thinking he meant the NY Times word game we enjoy playing together. "We can't play a game until we have an idea!" Then I turned my head. "Or did you mean let's do Connections for our poster theme?"

He nodded. 

"I think that's genius!" I proclaimed, and the rest of the kids agreed with me. 

So the next day we came up with a list of words associated with kindness and looked for commonalities. We were all crowded around the whiteboard writing, erasing, circling, making suggestions and tweaks until at last we had sixteen words that could be sorted into four not-too-obvious categories. "This is the most fun I've ever had at school," one student said quite sincerely. "It's way better than game day!"

Another student did a little online research and discovered a website that allows you to create your own Connections game, based on the NY Times model. She plugged our words and categories into it, and we created a QR Code to go along with the poster.

"I'm sure we're going to win!" another kid crowed.

"Maybe," I said. "I guess it depends on whether the judges know the game."

"I don't care if we win," said someone else. "This was a good bonding experience for us."

I'd have to agree.

See for yourself:

 

A Good Walk Spoiled

Five years ago, when they were building an elementary school in our school's parking lot, the temporary parking solution involved finding a space either on the street or in the lot down by the tennis courts two blocks away. The second option required us to walk around the community soccer fields, tennis courts, basketball courts, and school garden on our way into the building. Generally? The walk was not a problem, although foul weather made it a bit unpleasant at times. Even so, I came to enjoy the extra activity right before and right after my work day. It was a time to decompress, be outside, and depending on the time of day, be a part of the community that uses the fields.

When the elementary school opened, our parking moved to an underground garage beneath it, which was much closer to the entrance of our school. One of the concerns about building another school so close to our own was always traffic flow; both schools use the same narrow bus lane and loop; the garage entrance is right there, too, and the drop-off for students is not clearly demarcated and over by the other school. So let's just say that any teacher arriving after contract time in the morning will definitely get jammed up before being able to park and enter the building, which is a frustrating and stressful way to start your day.

Lately, I have returned to parking by the tennis courts. It's far enough way that I can park with ease, and the walk is still kind of nice. I've been really talking it up to Heidi, too, and this morning when we rode in together, I was looking forward to showing her how much better parking over there is than fighting the traffic.

We heard a dog barking frantically when we pulled in. "Animal Control is here," Heidi noted, gesturing to the white van idling diagonally across three spaces. 

A group of three people with their dogs were talking with concerned looks on their faces by the tennis courts. "Maybe there's a raccoon in the trash can," I guessed.

"I'm pretty sure it's that dog," Heidi pointed.

Sure enough, a medium brown pitbull mix was pacing and barking in the chainlink pitching cage over by the baseball diamond. As we approached, an animal control officer with a wire trapline calmly approached and entered the gate. She quickly cornered the dog and slipped the loop around its shoulders. We continued toward school as she secured a leash on the now quiet dog. On the concrete slab of the enclosure, we saw a light blue blanket and a toy carrot.

"He must've been left there," I said, and I felt my throat tighten at the idea. I couldn't shake the image of someone caring enough for a dog to give it a blanket and a toy, but feeling forced for some reason to abandon it. Heidi and I walked on in silence.

"I guess this wasn't the best morning for parking over here," I sighed.