Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah

Before I took on the teacher-coaching position I have now, it had been a while since I had run any kind of virtual meeting. Of course, I built that skill set during SY 2020-21, when we started the year teaching from home and ended it with a hybrid model, with some of the kids in the classroom while others opted to continue learning remotely.

Back then, I was pretty adept at all the bells and whistles of the platform-- taking attendance, sharing my screen, using the chat, creating breakout rooms, and muting participants if necessary. Not surprisingly, there have been changes and upgrades in the past five years, and now, like so many things, AI has changed the way online meetings work, too.

A couple of things AI can offer are a transcript and a summary of any call, complete with to-do lists for all participants. These features come with a disclaimer (for now) that AI can make mistakes, and an advisement to check for errors. In my experience, the errors have been few, though, and the summaries are actually pretty helpful. 

The transcripts, on the other hand? Are painful to read, especially when I focus on my part. I notice a lot of filler words, unnecessary repetition, and clear instances of me thinking out loud and trailing off senselessly. To my own eyes and ears, I sound like a dork.

It must be more than coincidence, I think, that lately my social media feed has been full of ads for programs that can make one sound more like an executive, confident and clear, as a speaker. It seems like AI and its minion algorithms agree with me on my professional conversational skills. 

But rather than pay for an app or a course to improve, I decided to consult, what else? AI, which kindly gave me a list of seven helpful phrases, five habits that make you sound more authoritative, a three-point simple structure for clear speaking, and four helpful reminders. The first reminder is to pause before responding.

I have a couple of calls this afternoon, and I think I'll do just that.

Why take on just one challenge when you can tackle two? This month, I'm using the Action for Happiness Mindful March calendar as a daily prompt for living and writing. 

Hey Daylight Savings Time I Still Hate You

Listen, I did my best to give the curtailing of my weekend and the need to rise an hour earlier in the pitch black a fair shake. I approached it with hardly a whimper. I prudently went to bed early not just last night, but Saturday night, too. I adjusted my clocks and my schedule to accommodate the loss of an hour, stayed positive all day, maybe this won't be so bad, I told myself, maybe I'm finally learning to cope successfully with the inevitable, maybe I won't need to resent everyone who makes this happen, maybe, maybe, blah, blah, blah, today still sucked!  And I doubt tomorrow is going to be any better.

J is for Jersey Girl

From the time I was 4 until I was 13 my family lived in New Jersey. Personally, I was very happy there, and I had a lot of pride in my state. In middle school I joined a history club called the Jerseymen, and we even went to a convention in Atlantic City where I was elected Lieutenant Governor for Burlington County. A few months later, my family moved to Saudi Arabia, and I had to resign my office.

In Saudi, my brother and sister and I went to an international school with kids from all over the world. There were kids from all over the United States, too, and it was there that I met my first Texan. We were actually pretty good friends, best friends, really, so you can imagine my surprise the first time we ever talked about how great our homes in the States were. "New Jersey?" she sniffed. "What could possibly be good about New Jersey?" And then she laughed before she continued. "Now, Texas..." and blah, blah, blah, she was off on how much bigger and better everything was in Texas.


"New Jersey is just as good as Texas!" I insisted, "If not better!"

"Ha!" she answered. "Let's see. We have Houston." She looked at me like, top that.

"Well, we have... um, we have... well Philadelphia and New York are close by."

"They don't count. We have the Alamo."

"We have Atlantic City?"

""OK," she shrugged. "We have blue bonnets."

"We have blueberries. New Jersey is the Garden State."

"Who cares? We have Dallas."

"We have the Pine Barrens," I said, "AND the Jersey Devil!" It was my turn to look triumphant.

"What are those?" she said. "Wait, it doesn't even matter, because nobody outside of New Jersey even cares." She laughed at her own joke and then looked at me, her best friend. Her expression became kinder. "Oh cheer up!" she said and threw her arm around my shoulders. "Nobody here even cares if you're from New Jersey!"

But I cared.

Life Lesson: Pride doesn't have to come at the expense of someone else.

It's Time to Pay Attention

It wasn't too long ago that I couldn't keep the difference between Medicaid and Medicare straight in my head. I knew they were medical care programs provided by the government, but which was for seniors and which was for people who couldn't afford insurance was irrelevant to me. I'd like to think that the debate on health care reform over the last couple of years clued me in a little. Well that, and maybe the fact that my mom qualifies for one of those programs raised my awareness somewhat, but it wasn't until today, when I heard of Representative Paul Ryan's proposed changes to those particular programs (slated to take full effect in 2021), that the difference was crystal clear.

In ten years, I will be nearing the age when I will probably rely on Medicare. All of a sudden, that hypothetical blah blah blah didn't seem quite so unfathomable and irrelevant as it once did... now they are talking about me and my benefits. I can only hope that most other people my age aren't too preoccupied with the busy lives they are leading right now to come to the same awareness.

Back to Basics

I'll be the first to admit that there is

a
lot
of
edujargon

out there.

Just this afternoon I sat in a meeting where a group of colleagues "fishbowled" a "data analysis" "protocol". But not before we reviewed the "norms" of our "PLC" and discussed how best to represent that our "systems" are "aligned" to our "management plan". We were reminded to make sure our "unit planners" with their "statements of inquiry" (an oxymoron if I ever heard one!), "key concepts", related concepts" and "global contexts" were posted along with the "learning targets".

I think you get the picture. There is so much blah, blah, blah out there that at times we lose sight of the real stuff. For example, the word "engagement" has definitely been overused by us educators in the last decade or so, and yet?

Guys! Engagement really is key to learning. If the student doesn't care and/or can't make a meaningful, personal connection, the lesson just doesn't stick. Just today I was showing a coworker the video from my former intern's audition on The Voice. "I never watch the show," I told her, "but knowing the guy? I'm totally in!"

She hadn't met him in the time he was working with me last year, but she was happy enough to watch the clip. "Look!" I said. "That's his wife-- she went here!"

"Oh my gosh!" she said. "I taught her! I can't believe it!" She gave me a high five. "I'm totally in, too!"

What Blah

More tales of quadruple teaching a lesson:

Today, I used the white board to record a student-generated list of writing tools we've used this year. During the last class of the day, a student raised her hand and repeated one of the ideas, verbatim, from the class before. I caught on right away. She could read the ghostly shadow of the erased writing. "Good one!" I said. "What else do you see?"

She reeled off another one, and we laughed. "Anything else?" I asked.

"What..." she started and then frowned and squinted. "Blah." She couldn't read the rest.

"What blah?" I repeated. "Very good!" And I wrote it down on the list.

The students who were paying attention giggled. (I'd like to say that it was all of them, but I teach sixth grade. I knew I'd have to circle back and pick up the stragglers another way.) "What blah!" one of the focused kids exclaimed. "I must have been absent that day!"

We joked about it for a minute or two and then went on to complete the list. The assignment was for them to write the first draft of an essay and then use the list to revise. A while later a student approached my desk. "I'm finished my draft," she said quietly.

"Did you use the list on the board to revise?" I asked.

"Yes," she confirmed, "and I have everything except what blah. I must have been absent that day."

Blah-liday

 It was not a jolly holiday around here today. A muggy, overcast morning gave way to a drenching, tropical afternoon. After working for most of the gray, gray day, I had to get out of the house, so at 4:30 I pulled on some boots and my raincoat, leashed up the dog, and headed out for as brisk a walk as we could manage. Lucy is a sniffer, she never met a patch of grass or invisible trail along the side of a fence that she didn't long to lose her nose in. Such aromatic shenanigans make it challenging to maintain any speed, and so we traded off jogging and meandering, eventually compromising our way down to the local shopping district at the foot of the hill. I was surprised to see a few hardcore restaurant patrons sitting at somewhat soggy tables beneath dripping awnings, but aside from them, the sidewalks were mostly empty. Rounding the bend to the library square I did a double take at the Christmas Tree, all set up and decorated. And although Veteran's Day is mighty early for that kind of cheer, I do confess my spirits rallied just a bit at the sight. I snapped a quick selfie and then off we trotted toward home.