Always on Best Behavior

As I go about my business in this big city small town, I am used to being hailed by students and former students alike, pausing in my errands to greet them and their friends and families. I try to be unfailingly friendly.

Years ago I broke the habit of honking at anyone in anger; it was after an aggressive driver flipped me off and zoomed ahead of me to brake suddenly. Clearly dissatisfied with my driving, she had a chance to explain herself to me in detail 10 minutes later when I was introduced as her summer school supervisor.

Cussing in public has been a little harder to give up; I like to think I use profanity effectively with a deliberate wink to its shock value, but other people probably have a different opinion.

Tonight though, I left the grocery store scratching my head a bit. I was searching for tortillas when I heard a clarion voice call, "Ms. S!" I felt the corners of my mouth lift in their public smile as I looked up to greet the young person behind the voice.

"Hello..." I started before realizing I had no idea who I was talking to. She was a bubbly kid of middle school age, but I am quite sure we have never been introduced.

"Mom! This is Ms. S. She's a teacher at my school!" the girl continued with impeccable manners.

"Pleased to meet you," I said, shaking her hand.

"What do you teach?" she asked.

"Sixth grade English," I answered.

"But... not on the Stingrays?" she said.

"No! She's a Dolphin," her daughter said. "My friend Maddie has her."

I shrugged and nodded.

"Nice to meet you. Have a nice evening," the mom said, and I was off free to go. Having found my tortillas, I cast a bit of a guilty look over my shoulder and turned down the wine and beer aisle.

Mind-Numb Monday

I don't think my students even woke up until 5th period.

Sunday Night Blues

Yeah.

From Autobiography to Zombie

A big part of the memoir unit we teach in sixth grade reading is helping students identify the theme of whatever story we are reading. Earlier this week, I asked for kids to throw out possible themes for the piece we had just finished, an excerpt from Jerry Spinelli's memoir, Knots in my YoYo String.

We read the part where Jerry considers himself a non-reader because he doesn't like that many books. He reads comics voraciously and sports statistics and he loves words and writers who use them playfully, but in his mind, reading and writing are nothing special-- they simply take their place with the "popsicles, pen knives and bicycle tires" of his life. One day he even writes an extra poem to go with a brochure project on Mexico, and his teacher accuses him of plagiarism, probably because she doesn't see any strength in that area either.

"So, what's the lesson?" I asked the class.

A kid who probably doesn't consider himself very literary raised his hand, and I called on him with pleasure.

"Your greatest strength might contain your greatest weakness?" he suggested.

"Hmmmm. That sounds familiar," I said. "Did you see World War Z recently?" 

He shrugged sheepishly. "Yeah. Last weekend."

"Think about it though," I advised him. "Turn it around a little. You thought of that for a reason."

He considered it a moment, and then I saw the light of an idea in his face. "Your weakness might contain your strength?"

"I think it might," I told him. "I think it might."

Color Blind

"Are Katie and Lizzy sisters?" a student asked me today. I understood why she might wonder that, because both girls happen to have albinism.

"No," I told her.

"Are they cousins?"

"Nope," I said.

"Well, they just look so much alike," she continued.

"Kind of," I shrugged. "They definitely have the same hair color."

"Are you sure they aren't related?" She couldn't let it go.

"Listen," I said, "what you're asking is like somebody wondering if you and [here I named another student] are related."

"Why?" she frowned. "Because we're Asian? We don't look anything alike."

"I know," I said, "and that's the point."

The Reading Boss

I administered yet another standardized test to my students today. Upon seeing our agenda, they literally groaned with disbelief. I shrugged in sympathy. There is nothing I can do about the 20 days (4 full weeks) of instruction and learning in my class that is replaced by mandated testing. Still, I hate for the kids to get discouraged so early in the year.

"Oh! This one's different," I said. "First you pick the type of passages you like so they give you questions you will find interesting."

They did not seem sold. "How many questions are there?" someone asked.

"It depends," I told them. "It's like..." I grasped for a simile. "It's like a video game. You keep answering until you get a certain number wrong, and then they end your test, tell you thanks for playing, and give you a score."

This they found intriguing. "Do they tell you when you get one wrong?"

"Only during the practice test," I said.

They began to strategize. "Do they get harder as you go?"

I nodded, and I could almost hear the gears turning.

"What if you never miss any?" someone asked. "Do you have to keep going forever?"

"No," I answered. "Eventually, you beat the test."

I guess they had never thought of it that way.

"When can we start!?"

Dictionary Skills

What's an antonym for deficit as in Deficit Thinking?

• abundance
• adequacy
• advantage
• enough

• perfection
• plenty
• satisfaction
• success

• sufficiency
• excess
• superfluousness
• proficiency 

I attended a required work shop for English teachers today. As a result, I got to sleep in by an hour, spend time with some of my favorite teacher friends, laugh a little, eat a free lunch in the sunshine, and get out early enough to go to the gym, walk the dog, and cook dinner.

That was enough.