Impressions

When Mary introduced me to her first class yesterday a hand shot up in the front of the room. She nodded at the boy to let him know she saw him but didn't stop speaking. His hand waved and he made intense eye contact with me until she reached a point where she paused and called on him. "You taught my mom and my uncles!" he said breathlessly.

"I did?" I replied. "What's your mom's name?" 

"Farhana," he told me, and I laughed and told him the names of his uncles. 

"Do your grandparents still live on Barton Street?" I asked, and he said they did.

"How did you even know she taught your mom?" Mary asked logically since I haven't worked at the school since he's been there.

"They just told me about her," he said.

In contrast, this morning Mary texted me from her all-day meeting. "Did you teach M-- H--?" she asked. "She's my sub today."

"I did!" I replied, trying to calculate how long ago it had been. "She must be pretty young."

"She looked young, although she said she was here a long time ago. She only remembered P-- A-- so that wasn't all that long ago."

As it turns out, she was in sixth grade 12 years ago, which is half her life, so understandably seems long to her. But? She didn't even remember me!

Service Teaching

My friend Mary asked if I would be willing to come to school as a volunteer and help coach the young writers in her class as they work on their children's book projects, and I happily agreed. The assignment was one I am well-acquainted with, having developed and taught it with my sixth-grade CLT over the last 5 or 6 years, and I was eager to see how the new historical fiction spin they added this year was working. 

This morning, I stationed myself at a table in the back of Mary's room, and she explained to each class who I was and what I was there to do. Business was slow at first, but Mary sent a few kids my way and then asked them for reviews of the experience, which were positive and encouraged a few other students to give it a try.

The conferences were set up so that I could see their work in progress on my laptop as we talked, and I asked clarifying questions and made suggestions in real-time as they sat next to me and wrote. To me, the meetings seemed helpful and productive, and they were fun, too. 

"Awesome!" I answered when anyone asked how it was going. "It's like a dream job-- I just get to listen to kids tell me about their ideas and writing and make some suggestions, and then they say, "Thank you!" and it's on to the next kid. No planning, no discipline, no grading, just straight-up teaching."

"It really is the best part," noted Mary. "You're welcome."

What Are We, 12?

A group of friends organized a game night this weekend at 6 PM on Saturday. On the text chain, someone offered to bring pizza, and I said I'd bake a cake since there was a birthday to celebrate, too.

Who knew that would be all we had for dinner?

The games were fun, though.

I Think I'll Pass

I received an email this afternoon from the job site where I'm enrolled informing me of all sorts of opportunities with the federal government.

Ummmm. Really?

Impervious

You know it's cold when the cat runs into the living room because she hears the fireplace screen move. And it has been cold, almost dauntingly so. But I remembered something I learned when I was in college in Upstate New York. 

I didn't have a car until I was a senior, so I walked everywhere. There were days when it was so cold I could feel the hair in my nose crisp up a bit when I took my first breath outside on my way to class. I also recall being able to walk on the snow because it had a thick top layer that was frozen solid, which was helpful since I liked to cut across the field hockey pitch if I was running late. 

But what I didn't do was lower my head and hunch my shoulders against the cold. That just made it worse! Instead, I threw my shoulders back and strode purposefully in the direction I needed to go. After all? It was just a little cold weather.

And I've found that strategy still works 40-something years later.

But a fire sure is nice, too.

My Two Cents (While We Still Have Pennies)

An old friend messaged me the other night.

I’ve been thinking about you guys, and wondering how you are doing in retirement. Me, I’m working on something I’m excited about and I figure 5 more years, which makes sense financially. Does retirement make all the political crap any easier to take, or does it just give you more time to worry about stuff? 

I considered her question and replied.

I don't feel like retirement has had much of an impact on my response to the current political situation. I try to limit my exposure to the news and use the extra time I have to do other things.  

Even so, retirement has been a big adjustment for me. It's taken months to decompress after decades of teaching, and I'm not quite there yet. I didn't recognize what a huge change it would be, and I haven't quite found my new normal yet. I'm glad that you have work you find fulfilling, and I hope it's also manageable in terms of time and energy. If so, there's no reason to retire! 

Meta Data

 Suggested for you, read the banner, and a young, bearded man smiled beneath. I confess: I was scrolling through a social media account, even though I have better things to do. But I did not recognize the person in the photo or his name, and stranger still, we had no "friends" in common. 

Who is this guy? I thought as I tapped the name. There, I saw him showing off his Eagle Scout project, graduating from the University of Buffalo, and hiking with a young woman. It finally dawned on me that he was one of my neighbors across the way. I have spoken to him a few times, but our paths rarely cross.

I barely know him, but social media thinks I should. And hmmmm. How might it know that?