L is for Lucky

"Today is the luckiest day of the year, astrologically," my sister read from her iPad over breakfast yesterday. "Jupiter is in alignment with the sun," she continued. "But you have to lean into it, it won't just happen," she finished.

"That sounds great!" I said, and our conversation wandered on to other things.

Later in the day, though, it felt for all the world that good luck was the opposite of the prevailing vibe when my sister got stuck in gridlocked traffic just a mile from home. (Afterwards, we discovered that it was the president here in the neighborhood to meet with Atlanta voters ahead of his commencement speech at Morehead University.) When at last she arrived from the grocery store, it seemed impossible that we would be able to make it to the graduation ceremony on time. 

My brother-in-law and his mom had gone on ahead, and my sister dashed upstairs, threw on her dress, and grabbed her cosmetic bag. I punched the address into my phone and took the wheel. Heidi navigated while my sister did her makeup in the backseat and my niece handed over the jewelry she had gathered. 

At first, our route on the map app was crisscrossed with red and yellow lines of congestion, predicting that we would be 14 minutes late. But as we drove, the road cleared before us and our arrival time ticked earlier and earlier.

"It says 4:10 now," Heidi reported as we made it through a light without having to stop. "4:08," she updated us seconds later as we rounded a traffic circle. "4:05 now."

"Is that the church right there?" I pointed ahead of us, and it was. One more traffic circle and a left up the driveway. Courtney and Annabelle leapt from the car just as they were closing the doors to the vestibule. It was 4:02. 

We had made it. 

And that was lucky.

Life Lesson: You'll know how it was meant to be, hear the signs, and know they're speaking to you, to you. ~10,000 Maniacs "These Are the Days"

K is for the Kids

We are here in Atlanta for my youngest nephew's graduation, and last night was the Baccalaureate ceremony where each senior's advisor wrote and delivered a tribute to the graduating student. It might have been excruciating to sit through so many remarks about people one doesn't know, but there were only 40 or so graduates (as well as a 250-word limit), and I found myself surprisingly engaged. 

First, as an educator, I was interested in how each teacher framed their remarks, and I wondered how I would approach the same task. Next, as an auntie, I was very moved to hear how someone else saw and appreciated my nephew as the great guy he is.

As the ceremony commenced, one by one each student and their families and supporters were asked to stand as the senior's character and accomplishments were acknowledged, and I craned my neck to see the honorees and their proud loved ones as they were celebrated. The families were universally thrilled and the graduates were silently fascinating: their wardrobes a range from wacky to traditional, their facial expressions a mixture of stoic discomfort and delight. 

And in their faces and the words of their teachers, I saw traces and heard echoes of so many of the kids I have taught over the last 30 years, and I felt their hope for the future and joy at a job well done.

Life Lesson: You're doing a good job. Don't get too down. The world needs you now. Know that you matter, matter, matter, yeah. ~Alicia Keys "Good Job"

D is for Do I know You?

We had a morning flight to Atlanta and as I stood at the gate at DCA, surrounded by people, I had the thought that if I looked for a celebrity I might find one. But I also had the thought that if I looked at my phone I could solve a sudoku, and that notion won out. I maintained my oblivion to those around me all the way down the jetway, onto the plane, and into my seat, where once the sudoku was solved, I read a fascinating book about the lost history of Arlington County and enjoyed coffee and then soda water and potato chips. 

The flight went by quickly and soon we were taxiing to the gate where I sprang to my feet, eager to deplane and find my sister. As I waited, I made eye contact with a platinum-blond woman a few rows ahead and then quickly looked away with a vague feeling of familiarity. How do I know her? I wondered and looked back. She was asking another passenger to fetch her carry-on from the overhead bin, and while I could not make out the entirety of their conversation, I did hear him say "Oh, you're in Congress aren't you?"

She sure is. I realized I was looking at Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene. By then we were into the aisle and on our way to the terminal where Ms. Greene melted into the crowd. 

Years ago my sister took our oldest nephew, who was 3 then, to Minneapolis to visit my mom. All of his life he had heard about this place called Minnesota, and who knows what his preconception of it was, but once they got to my mom's house he was surprised. "Minnesota looks just like a house!" he said with wonder.

I thought of that story today as I walked through the airport. My preconceptions were clear: despicable, cynical, delusional monster, but when I actually saw her, Marjorie Taylor Greene looked just like a person.

Life Lesson: I'm only human of flesh and blood, I'm made. Human, born to make mistakes. ~Human League "Human"

Q is for Queen

For years I've capitalized on the anecdote of the time I cooked for the queen. It's my go-to surprising fact about myself, the thing any student journalist can interview me about, something my students love to repeat. I can't believe I've never written about it here, but while a quick search of the 5,638 posts has turned up quite a bit about the show The Crown (too much, maybe?), there seems to be not a word about how food that I prepared was served to Queen Elizabeth II.

"Did she like it?" the kids always ask. "What did she say when you met her?" But the tale itself is a step down from the premise. I was working as a cook in the flight kitchen for United Airlines at Dulles Airport back in the early 90s when the queen came for a state visit. In addition to United, our staff prepared the meals for Lufthansa and British Airways, too. The queen and her entourage were chartered on the Concord, and when they returned to London we did the food.

Don't get me wrong; it was not a normal, run-of-the-mill day in the kitchen. The executive chef made the menu and he inspected every plate before it was loaded into the trolleys or portable ovens. Another question the kids always ask is what did you make? I personally worked on searing the duck breasts for the a l'orange, which was said to be a favorite of the queen, and I helped with the peach melba for dessert. Whether she liked it or not, I never heard, but no one got fired that day, and 30 years on, it's still a pretty good story.

Life Lesson: Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? ~Queen "Bohemian Rhapsody

M is for Mouse

I recently listened to a short novel called Sipsworth by Simon Van Booy. The gentle story was a welcome change from the previous novel I'd read, The Vaster Wild by Lauren Groff. 

Vaster is the story of a young woman who flees from Jamestown in the winter of 1609-10, the "starving time." The premise seems appropriate for a YA survival novel, but the book itself is no such thing. Before she runs, food is so scarce during a siege by the native people that the Jamestown immigrants resort to cannibalism. The flight itself through the winter wilderness is also brutal, and the story is not about survival, but she has no choice.

Sipsworth, on the other hand, is the tale of an 83-year-old woman who accidentally befriends a field mouse, and the novel is very much like a children's story for adults. It is sweet and somewhat unpredictable in its exploration of aging and living with loss through the relationship between Helen and the mouse she names Sipsworth. 

I thought of Sipsworth a few minutes ago when a little mouse ran across my classroom. By this time of year the mice typically have moved outside; their appearances, so common in the cold winter months, dwindle to few or none. Rather than timidly hugging the walls as his kin usually do, this little one today explored the open spaces fearlessly, scampering within a yard or two of my desk until I raised a hand and it retreated behind one of the bookshelves. 

Years ago, when a cat of ours deposited a white mouse, stunned but unharmed, on the doormat on his way in for dinner, we kept him in a tank of cedar shavings for the rest of his life. Even so, despite Sipsworth and Fibber (our mouse), I do not want to make any mouse my pet, although I guess I would if it became necessary.

Life Lesson:  If you ever look behind, and don't like what you find, there's something you should know: you've got a place to go. ~Michael Jackson "Ben"

J is for Joy

"My sister just got her driver's license," a student told me after school today, "and you would not believe how ridiculously overjoyed she is."

"It's exciting to get your license!" I defended her.

"She sent the family a video," he replied. "You'll see."

He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen, then turned it around so I could see a young woman in a very bright orange jacket recording herself as she sat in a driver's seat. "You'll never guess what I just did," she reports breathlessly. "I drove myself to the... grocery store! Then I bought 140 dollars worth of groceries-- Mom gave me the money-- and carried the three bags across the parking lot and put them into my car! Which perfectly matches my jacket, by the way. And now I'm going to drive home!"

The recording ended and I laughed appreciatively. "She is pretty excited," I agreed, "but I'm happy for her. She is finding joy in an everyday chore."

He rolled his eyes and put his phone away. "I gotta get going," he sighed.

"It's raining pretty hard," I told him. "Maybe your sister would come pick you up."

"I'd rather ride my bike in the rain," he scoffed, "than give her the satisfaction."

Life Lesson: Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth. ~Pharrell Williams "Happy"

I is for Impressive

"What can I do for a piece of candy?" That refrain rings through my classroom every day for those ten minutes between the last bell and the bus departures. Students try to beat my roll in dice, guess the card on the top of the deck, shoot mini-basketballs or magnetic darts, all in an effort to "win" a Jolly Rancher.

They're not wrong to try; they know I will not simply hand out candy for the begging, but I will reward a winner in fair (or lucky) competition. In general, they are very good sports, too, understanding that time is short and they only get one attempt per game per day. And it's fun to play, so much so that our games have evolved over the year as we look to add new ones. 

Today it was a group of four boys who stood before my desk. "Wanna try this one?" I asked, picking up a small deck of cards. "These are movie quotes and you have to name the film."

"How many?" one asked. "Five," I decided, "but you can work together."

"How many chances?" calculated another.

"Seven?" I shrugged. "Let's see how it goes." I drew a card. "Hasta la vista, Baby" I read in my best Austrian accent.

"Predator!" shouted one.

"No!" his friend immediately corrected him. "Terminator 2!"

"Yes!" I drew another card. "My mama always said, 'Life is like a box--"

"Forrest Gump!" they cut me off.

"Right again," I nodded. "Heeeeere's Johnny," I read.

"The Shining! I love that movie!"

"How do you even know these?" I asked. "They were made years before you were born!"

"They're classics," I was assured.

They missed a Harry Potter and a Mrs. Doubtfire quote but got "Just keep swimming," from Finding Nemo. We were on the last card. 

"It ain't about how hard you hit. It's about how hard you can get hit--"

"and keep moving forward!" they finished together. "Rocky! We win!"

"Yeah, you do!" I agreed. 

"Can we each have 2 Jolly Ranchers?" one asked.

"Nope," I told them, "but I am impressed."

"I guess that's pretty good," he replied and held out his hand for his reward.

Life Lesson: I've known a few guys who thought they were pretty smart, but you've got being right down to an art. That don't impress me much. ~Shania Twain "That Don't Impress Me Much"