Don't Leave Home Without It

I've learned that taking a break and getting outside during the school day will usually improve my productivity, and so today, when I finally completed setting up my account for the free bike share membership they are giving school employees this year, my brain break involved hiking up to the nearest metro stop, picking up my key, grabbing a bike, and riding on back to school where I dropped it off at the rec center bike station.

Round trip? 45 minutes.

Clearer head? Priceless.

Wonder Woman

Since I don't have any children of my own, creating Halloween costumes has never been a necessary skill.

I think I stepped up quite nicely, though:

Pokemon Go Away

I recently read that Pokemon Go is waning in popularity. Personally, I'm not surprised. I lost interest in the game within 48 hours. And yet, as we strolled through the packed FDR Memorial on this gorgeous October afternoon, we noticed that granite walls, tumbling falls, bronze statues, and inspirational words were all forsaken by a vast parade of people focused solely on their smart phones.

"Wow! There must be a lot of Pokemon here," I said to Heidi.

She turned those big blue eyes at me and arched her eyebrows meaningfully. "Ya think?"

Off and On the Clock

I had my annual physical today, and so I took sick leave. That meant that I was at school until 6 yesterday evening pulling everything together for my students and team today, as well as preparing for Monday. Even so, I brought home a heavy bag full of papers to grade and books to read in anticipation of the next unit of the new writing thing we're piloting.

Everything went fine at the doctor, and when I got home Heidi and I walked to a nearby community center to cast our in-person absentee ballots. (We will be in Buffalo the day before the election, and lord knows we've been stranded there before!) On the way back, we stopped at the garden where we were surprised by at least 10 pounds of tomatoes, eggplants, and peppers ready to pick.

Once home again, I checked my email and messages and ended up spending the next three hours working on school-related correspondence, which included several emails, 2 newsletters, and three surveys (you can imagine my candor). I got up to stretch at 5 PM, and wondered where that day "off" had gone.

The Sorting iPad

It spilled over from home room.

"What Hogwarts house are you?" asked one of my students. "I'm always Hufflepuff no matter what!" she continued in frustration, 'I want to be Gryffindor."

I shrugged. "I'm probably Ravenclaw," I said. "Not to brag, but I am pretty smart," I winked.

"You should take the quiz right now!" she said, and so I did, quickly clicking through my choices of animals, leisure activity, Triwizard Tournament challenges, artwork, and so on.

"I'm..." I looked at her with raised eyebrows, "wait for it... wait for it... Gryffindor!" I announced in my best Sorting Hat voice.

She gasped, and we were still talking about it when the class changed. First period is reading, and most of the students were very interested in our conversation. The Harry Potter series is definitely regaining popularity with my students, both with the release of the Cursed Child and the fact that these sixth graders were too young to enjoy either the books or the movies the first time around. It really seems to be proof that the series is a classic.

"Can we try it, too?" several kids asked, and in a split second decision, I decided that it was an engaging activity somewhat related to reading. Even the students who were unfamiliar with the series wanted to take the quiz, and then they had lots of questions about the books for their friends who had read it.

Some kids tried taking the quiz more than once to rig their results, and their analysis of the questions and how they related to the houses of Hogwarts was pretty high order thinking. I quickly added a discussion question to our Google Classroom: What house were your sorted into? Do you think it was a good fit? Why?

Even as they compared their answers and results, one of the items on the quiz was of particular concern to one boy. If Death offered you a reward for outsmarting him, which would you choose? The options were the Resurrection Stone, the Elder Wand, and the Invisibility Cloak.

"I would always pick the stone," he told several people, "because what if something happened to my mom? I would never want to live in this world without my mom!"

"You should tell her all about the quiz when you get home," I suggested. "I think she might like to hear about it!"

And... Action!

With a lesson that revisited action verbs and how their use might make a writing piece more powerful, it became clear that there was a gap in some students' understanding of that part of speech. We had read a wonderfully gross example of personal narrative by Jack Gantos, and so I asked them to pull out a few vivid verbs that they noticed, but after teaching the lesson twice, I knew that my right-after-lunch group that was heavy on boys and energy might not appreciate it fully. And so I enhanced it on the fly.

"Find a great verb in context," I directed them, "and then have your writing partner read the passage and pause as you act out the verb. Remember: verbs are actions!"

There was a buzz in the room as sixth grade writers revisited the story to find the perfect verb. A few hands waved, and when I went to see what they needed, their questions were very similar: How do I act out "puke-smelling" or "private" or "special"?

"You don't," I told them each, "because they're not action verbs."

"Ooooooooohhhhh," they answered, a glimmer of understanding shining in their brains.

See what I did there?

We All Look Alike

After a day at the corn maze and farm, the kids were a little punchy those last twenty minutes they sat in our classrooms waiting for dismissal. Everyone had a lovely little pie pumpkin, and some students occupied themselves with decorating theirs with markers. Once he had a silly face on his, one student turned his pumpkin to another's. "I'm so stupid I'm going to vote for Donald Trump," he had the pumpkin say.

"Hey now!" said the sixth grade counselor who happened to be standing by, "Tell your pumpkin that nobody's stupid here."

"Who are you going to vote for?" the student questioned her.

"I can't tell you," she said.

"Clinton," he shrugged.

"Teachers really are not allowed to tell you who we support in the election," I told him.

"Clinton," he said to me.

"Why do you think so?" I asked.

"Because you even look like her!" he answered. "You two could be sisters!"