Feeling Left Out

I'm not a big football fan. Don't get me wrong-- I don't hate the game, but my interest is casual at best. I keep up with the local team more to know what my students are talking about than anything else. Still, as I sat here enjoying the final hours of the weekend, my windows open to the cool early-autumn evening, I could hear the cheers and groans of my neighbors drifting through the complex on the night air.  

What on earth IS going on? I wondered, but then I remembered-- the game is on. It must be good, I thought and promptly turned it on. With 9 minutes left in the 4th quarter, the opposing team had just scored to pull within 2.

And the rest was pretty dramatic: Our team fell behind with a little more than a minute left. They moved the ball down the gridiron to within field goal range, and then their kicker, who had been driven out of our neighboring city when he missed a field goal that would have won the championship and was 0-3 in this game, with 3 seconds left on the clock nailed it for a one point win.

Great stuff! I'll be sure to use it at the proverbial water cooler tomorrow. Even so, I'm kind of sorry that once I turned on my own TV,  I couldn't hear my neighbors' reactions anymore.

I'm sure they were happy.

Exercise Discipline Affection and Inspiration

We went down to the Second Annual National Family Pack Walk this morning. Organized by Cesar Millan's foundation to promote animal rescue and rehabilitation, the Dog Whisperer himself was present along with his co-host Scooby Doo. This event has been on our calendar for months, ever since Heidi saw a commercial for it during her favorite show, yes, The Dog Whisperer.

For those who are unfamiliar, Millan visits the homes of troubled dogs and rehabilitates them and their owners by breaking negative behavior cycles. His argument that dogs need calm assertive leadership from their owners is very compelling and especially convincing when you watch the show and witness the turn-arounds he is able to facilitate in case after case.

We were there bright and early, and Cesar (and his security detail) passed us within feet three times. In person he is an unassuming figure, but his speech was inspiring, and most impressive of all? You should have seen the dogs in the crowd. There was not an aggressive pooch in sight, and as thousands of people and their dogs walked a mile behind the ultimate pack leader, I did not hear a single growl.

Location Location Location

For the last week or so, we have been working on sensory details in my English classes. I have some good mentor texts; the kids looked in their independent reading books for examples; we went outside to gather some, and they did a little sense poem exercise.

That particular assignment asks writers to imagine a specific place and then conjure a descriptive detail for each of the senses. Most kids pick the beach or the woods, the pool or New York City; this year some wrote about Paris and Ethiopia, but there are always a few that think outside the box (the future, Candyland), and one or two who want to test the limits.

Case in point:

Student: Can I write about the bathroom?
Me: Sure.
Student (surprised): I can?
Me, shrugging: If you want to and you think it's a good idea. Try it.

A little while later he was kind of stuck. There was always a chance that he could have pulled it off with humor or irony, but he was taking a pretty literal approach-- he had a lot of farting and stinking in his poem and couldn't think of too much else. My advice is always that in a piece this short, it's a mistake to repeat a word or image because it weakens the impact of it, and that's definitely what was going on.

Still, he was committed to the poem, eventhough any negative attention he might have gotten from his peers was diffused by my matter-of-fact treatment of his topic. I looked over his shoulder to see if I could help. We back-and-forthed out a few possibilities, and then he wondered if he could try another topic.

"Sure," I said, "that's what writers do."

Unprecedented

Mary came to my room today at around 1:45. She was on a mission, as it seems that we all are all the time now, and time was short, as it seems it always is all the time now. She had some questions; I had a few answers, but it wasn't long before the conversation turned to our impending writing group meeting tonight.

The wine I wanted to bring was sold out; Mary hadn't finished her writing; I hadn't started my writing; we had a meeting at 2; I had another one at 2:40; there was a sixth grade mixer after school and a home tennis match, too; tomorrow's lessons were barely planned, to speak nothing of next week.

"We should just reschedule," I sighed.

And without skipping a beat Mary said, "Call Leah right now."

Which I did, and although she didn't answer her mobile, she picked up her classroom phone on the first ring, "This is Leah."

"Leah! It's Tracey. Mary's here and we really want to move writing group to next week."

As fortune would have it, just then Ellen walked in. We were all present, and we were all overwhelmed.

"If Tracey want's to cancel, you know it's bad," Mary said, but I knew that was true for all of us. Our writing group has been meeting almost every month since 2006, and this was the first time we ever had to cancel.

Thank goodness everyone can do it next Thursday! AND I will tell you this-- come what may, I will be there at 6:30 with a couple of bottles of good wine and some writing.

And That's Okay

One of the Tolerance Club initiatives at our school has been to teach kids how, when witnessing a bullying situation, they can be "upstanders" rather than bystanders.

A student at one of the high schools in our district actually produced a video on the topic for his senior project. Scored to the recording of Born This Way by Lady Gaga, the 12 minute film shows a number of students and staff holding up a large sign. On the first side they have written a fact about themselves, such as "I am bi-racial" or "I am short" or "I am Muslim" or "I like boys and girls" or "I have ADHD" and then they flip the sign to read, "And That's Okay." It is a powerful presentation that depicts the diversity of their community, and the message that we should accept each other for who we are is clear.

On Monday, we have had members of the Tolerance Club create their own signs, and we have shared them in a circle at the end of our meeting. Once again it was fascinating and wonderful to see what the kids chose to share about themselves and so moving to hear the words and that's okay repeated over and over again.

Like last year, we are going school-wide with this activity. On Friday, all of our students will view the video, and then make signs of their own in their homerooms. Teachers are strongly encouraged to participate, too, and so I've done it twice so far. Last year I struggled to find something revealing (but not too), something that I was a little uncomfortable with, but which really should be "okay." I settled on, "I don't like to wear skirts, " and, to be honest, I was surprised at how many girls were with me. On Monday, I admitted that I don't like it when people sit in "my" seat in the team room. Once again, some kids really got it, but I think my colleagues are still on the fence.

And perhaps that's another blog post altogether, but I do want to say that I am looking forward to doing this with my homeroom on Friday, even if I'm not sure what I'm going to share.

9:30 in the Bubble

I went to a small high school where everyone was required to play a sport and so if you went out for a team? You pretty much made it. That was me and basketball. I was on the varsity basketball team all three years, but making the team and playing in the games were two very different things.

It turned out that, despite my enthusiasm, I was a bench sitter. At the time, it was a mystery to me. In practice I was nothing if not compliant: I always gave my best in any drill or scrimmage and made all the corrections the coach called out, and yet still I sat cheering for my teammates in every game.

Years later, when I was a teacher and recruited to be a co-coach of the girls team, I understood why. Back then? I was clueless. I had zero body awareness and the concept of plays and strategies flowed past me like an alpine stream over a waterfall. As an educator, in retrospect I could place some responsibility on the coach  (I know what a willing student I was), but on the other hand, as a coach, I know you have a lot to accomplish in a limited time, and sometimes there are children left behind.

Even so, I look back on my high school basketball career very fondly. First, I nailed the lay up-- I totally know how to do that and I have taught countless girls to do one, too. Secondly, there is no feeling like being a part of a team, and I can honestly say that every cheer I made from the bench was genuine-- I loved those girls and their success was glorious.

I am still in touch with one of my best friends from high school despite our fundamental philosophical differences. She is a conservative Midwestern doctor, and I am a liberal East coast teacher, but it was Amy who worked with me to improve my skills. We met every night in the gym after study hall and practiced for 30 minutes. And it was she who flew off the bench in celebration when I scored the only two points of my career.

That's what counts.

Score Board

Back to School Night 20
Me 0

I just cannot make my presentation fit into 10 minutes!

Fortunately?

There's always next year.