A Happy Birthday Party 1989

Dad wearing the shirt I bought him

Today it is 26 years since my father passed away. I decided to do something a little different to commemorate the day. I pulled out pictures from his 60th birthday party my mom organized at their house. I remember that day. The weather was perfect. A lot of family was there. My dad was having the time of his life. The photos pick up the flavor of the day. I am grateful for this memory.

Dad freshening the water so Kim could play

Emily getting ready for the water attack

She got Jim

She got me

Martin the grill master

Margie, me, mom, Jim

John & Cheryl

The cake

His new baseball mitt

Dad being dad!

 

Hard to believe it's been 26 years.

 

I miss this man with every cell of my being.

Dear Future Me…

Yesterday I spontaneously decided to have my intensive readers write a letter to themselves which I will mail to them at the beginning of the next school year. We first brainstormed some things they learned this year that they want to remember for 8th grade. We also listed lessons learned from the book we were reading.

Most of the letters didn’t say much. But three students hit it out of the park. I felt they said some real things that will truly guide them in the future. One was from a girl (the longest one). The other two are from boys who have struggled with behavior —one who just came to our school this quarter because of issues at another school. 

Signposts (Where I'm At)

 

On Monday, while standing in line at Target, I thought to myself:

What are my plans for myself this summer?

Usually I have travel plans or some kind of personal fulfillment project. But this year I've only thought of Jim's schedule and what needs to be done around here and getting a grip on some things around here that have been neglected too long.

No goals for exercise or art. Certainly no travel. My writing goal is already in place and has been rolling along quite fine.

I thought, well, I'm set, right? Maybe some yoga? Yes -- for sure--some yoga.

And I also thought of my book reading goals. How many years have I said "This summer I will finally read A Thousand Years of Solitude?" I’m determined once again. Every time I finally read a long neglected classic, it is always rewarding.

I mused on writing about this, so I went to my coloring app library and found this graphic I had started to color weeks ago and then left undone.

It appears it has been sitting there waiting for me, because I realized these signposts are all I need to know.

Happiness -- My husband is here and I have more time with him.

Pleasure -- Music, good food, relaxation, time to take a break from teaching

Health -- I keep up with stretches, but I do need to walk more and go to yoga. And I keep reminding myself not to stress about things I can't control.

Gladness -- I have friends. I have love.

Wellness -- As crazy as things could be, I feel stable and balanced.

Wealthiness -- We are looking to start selling some of our collections.

Wonderful & Beautiful -- I will keep looking at life with wonder, and notice beauty whenever and wherever I can.

Share -- What I do here every day!

And let's not forget the three birds at the top of the signposts -- after all, don't they stand for "Every little thing is gonna be alright"?

The question my mind brought forward in a vulnerable moment was once again the part of me that is trying to find fault with my life, rather than just being one with it. It's challenging me to be happy with where I am. The signposts reminded me to be grateful for what I have. What else do I need?

Where You’re At

I had a relaxing Memorial Day weekend. Jim was feeling pretty dragged down from his chemo treatment, but woke up feeling better today. I am grateful for that. There are four days left in this school year, and I plan on making the most of them. I will leave work for a little while today to take Jim for his labs. Still trying to figure out how to make this all work! 

It’s where I’m at.

Meanwhile, I’ve been enjoying listening to a new station on Sirius XM: Chris Stapleton Radio (channel 63). I love all things Chris, and this station is curated in a way that speaks to me. Besides plenty of Chris, I’ve heard Fleetwood Mac, John Prine, Buddy Holly, Nicki Lane, Rodney Crowell, L.L. Cool J, Lindi Ortega, Hall & Oates and more. 

I’ve heard a few artists I’m not familiar with. One of these artists is Allen Stone. Apparently he's been around for a while and is in the soul/funk category. I listened to his Apart album and liked it a lot.

On the radio, Stone caught my attention with song lyrics that I can agree with wholeheartedly. I can’t find a lyric video, but this line alone sums it up pretty good:

The best part of living is loving where you’re at

This is a reminder I always need. Maybe you do, too. Give a listen…

The Green Notebook

I’ve been revisiting a notebook I bought before attending and presenting at the ASCD conference in Orlando in June 2019. My teacher friends and I presented a workshop on found poetry, an experience that was one of the best in my professional career.

I’ve come to regard 2019 as a golden age of my teaching. At the time, I felt like I was getting a true grip on who I was as a teacher, and had clarity on how to best use classroom time to reach my learners in creative ways. I was teaching intensive readers using a curriculum developed by National Geographic, and I was teaching my own originally designed courses in creative writing and speech & debate. Everything had clicked into place.

In early 2020, I was having the absolute best semester of my life. I could feel the vibe in the classroom was positive, kids were learning and taking risks. We were alive with possibilities.

Then the shutdown came.

And nothing has been the same.

So much of what I documented as good teaching and learning in my green notebook was useless to me when we had to go online and everything became about reaching remote learners. And as kids returned, and the years went on, it was evident much had changed. Behaviors were different. Our schedule changed, and I lost the courses I had designed. I was given an intensive curriculum that was dead in the water, no matter how much I tried to breathe life into it (Read 180). I was also teaching a higher level research course out of Cambridge University, which I eventually could see was lacking in many ways.

By last year at this time, I was ready to flee. I made serious steps to leave my school. I didn’t, and along the way I was released from Read 180 and given a section of creative writing. The Cambridge course was no longer just for high end students, which caused a whole new learning curve for me. I still had intensive reading, but at least it had decent literature (Dickinson, Wordsworth, Dylan Thomas) and I felt I could be a bit more creative and get somewhere. On top of that, my husband received a devastating diagnosis in January, and my time to teach was reduced. I am lucky to have made it to the end of the year in one piece, frankly.

My final year beckons, and I have decided it is time to return to the golden age and make it real again. I’m finding my green notebook has a blueprint for some really great stuff, some I have used before, some I have not. I have some autonomy, and where I don’t I’m taking it anyway. I have absolutely nothing to lose and everything to gain by doing it my way. 

I had wonderful conversations over the weekend with teacher friends, and I feel smart, strong, fearless, and resilient. Who knew when I purchased this notebook at Target five years ago (I actually remember choosing this one over others), that the words on the cover and the words inside would be coming alive in me today? 

In June 2019 none of us had any idea things could go so awry. Now that I know, I realize the importance of moving forward in ways that work. My learners deserve no less from me, and I will be prepared.

ADDENDUM

After I published this essay, a meme came up on my FB feed that went with it, and I had to add this here. It’s a good reminder to stay the course I’ve decided on, so a year from now I can be smiling and thankful I did what I knew had to be done.

Blackbird

 This came across my Facebook feed this week:

It made me giggle when realized the joke. Not all Paul McCartney songs are great by any means. But there definitely are many that are classics for all time.

One of them was in the Beatles White Album: “Blackbird.” I still remember when I saw Paul and Wings in 1976 and he dismissed the band, sat on a stool, and lunched into this beautiful song.

Over the years, it became rather ubiquitous. It sounded just kind of ordinary. That is until several weeks ago when Beyoncé released her country flavored album. Hearing her harmonize with Reyna Roberts, Tanner Adell, Brittney Spencer, and Tiera Kennedy gave new vision to everything meaningful and graceful and stunning about this song. It deserves a place here on this blog.

After the All Arts Show

 

Walking with others from the high school

back to the classroom, in the heat of the

midday sun, and just having watched

an inspiring performance by our wonderful

actors, singers, and dancers,

I looked to the sky, 

through the tops of the trees,

surrounded by kids talking & laughing,

and I felt one with nature, like floating.

I was in nature and nature was in me.

Just for a moment, that Friday afternoon.

The Guard

 I read David Kirby’s poem “Pictures at an Exhibition,” which has this great ending line:

Where would museums be if every picture was the same.

With all the possibilities evident in that line, I am sidestepping it for a memory his poem conjured up. In a section of his poem, Kirby was talking about the guards in museums in various way, and it caused me to remember my grandfather did that job as a retiree. He would take the bus downtown and stand around the paintings at the Columbus Museum of Art in his guard uniform. What a splendid way to spend the day, right? 

His museum was the first I ever visited when I was 11-years-old. I remember some pieces of the day. It was winter. I was wearing a plaid skirt and a headband. I was wowed by art.

This is another gratitude I have for my family. Art and music and literature were important endeavors in their own right. That is something I learned on that winter day in 1967, and it definitely had an effect. I have visited many museums since. 

I returned to the Columbus Museum sometime in the 1980s with my sister-in-law and niece for a special exhibit, although I don’t recall the particulars. And now I’m wondering why all my visits to Columbus since my sister has moved there has not included a trip downtown.  

I poked around on the CMA website and searched through women artists. I found this piece of art to add to this blog. I wanted to connect something I might see there today.

Besides the guard, that is. That will always be my grandfather.

This Poem Saves Me

 I slept for a very long time last night and woke to read this poem by Rumi:

Sometimes you hear a voice through the door

calling you, as fish out of water

hear the waves, or a hunting falcon

hears the drum's Come back. Come back.

This turning toward what you deeply love

saves you. Read the book of your life,

which has been given you.

A voice comes to your soul saying,

Lift your foot. Cross over.

Move into emptiness

of question and answer and question

I didn’t know what to do with this…I didn’t know if I was too sleep-buzzed to understand it, or that it was too impossible to focus on any one part.

After leaving and coming back to it, I decided that “This turning toward what you deeply love saves you.”

This is how we get through life, right? The things we love, when we experience them, lift us. 

I think this is part of the reason I find some of the rancor and bitterness in the world so off-putting. And yes, this I mean in a political sense. I wonder why we can’t agree to love our country, our democracy, the way those who fought for it did. This really hit me after I saw Hamilton again.

Today it was also about something floating around my periphery as I tried to figure out how to occupy a few classes on these last days. I discovered something I’d forgotten all about. Perfect. 

Despite all the insanity this year, I do love my learners and I’m trying to leave them with the best experience possible —art and games, yes, but some other skills to call on as readers in the future. It feels possible and probable. And that is something I love. It saves me.

Engines of Creativity

 

If I were ever to get another dog, it would be a Corgi. Every time my coloring app has a Corgi picture, I have to color it. This particular one I found delightful. I suppose a Corgi could use a skateboard because their legs are so short. And why would he need a scarf except to look dapper? Whoever designed this took things that don’t usually go together and combined them. Creativity! 

I don’t have a clear direction on this posting today. I’m mostly musing. There are seven school days left. Our school does a great year managing the energy of the kids at the end of the year, and I’m grateful for that.

And, as usual, I’m planning how to do things better next year. With that in mind, I share this quote. The idea is from Thomas Merton, but it is put in Parker Palmer’s words:

Contradictions in our lives are engines of creativity. What we get wrong makes us reach for something better. What we get right assures us that “better” is sometimes within reach.

What I like about my quest to always get better is I have partners who are doing the same. I’ve already talked to another Global Perspectives teacher at my school about what we need to do next year, and we have both come to the same basic conclusion separately on how we need to approach things. I found this validating, and energizing as well. 

When someone hands you a curriculum that contradicts what you feel can get the job done, it’s time to get creative. And I’m all about that!

700

 I happened to notice that today is the 700th post on this blog. I started this one in April 2017 as a way to get out and notice blue spaces and green spaces and to celebrate the poetry of David Whyte. This blog has grown way beyond this mission, but every once in a while I like to return to my purpose.

Today is chemo day for Jim, so I am not going to work. It is a bit cooler today, so I got myself out for a walk. I had brought my phone for an undetermined purpose, but very quickly I knew I wanted to celebrate the blue and green spaces in my 20-year-old neighborhood.

Facing east on Belleza Way

This pathway used to be one of the only consistently shady spots on my walk, but the trees crashed down in Ian and won’t be replaced.

I had the intention to take a photo of a new basketball hoop a student of mine who lives here had petitioned the board to put in. It’s in the pickleball court, and some guys were playing, so I couldn’t get a picture. However, it helped me remember the gazebo and the pier that are up by the clubhouse, a couple of things I actually had forgotten all about.

Next up, the poinciana tree that was always wildly majestic and bright, but since Ian has struggled to bloom again. It’s making a mighty effort, as evidenced here.

The weather started to feel warmer, and I continued along one of my favorite routes leading back to my home.

The roundabout dividing the 4 sections of Laguna Lakes

One of the 7 lakes

It’s Florida so we have to have these! 

After trading jokes with a jogger (since we saw each other twice she said she would tag me and I’d have to finish her run), I arrived back at my front door. You always know ours because of the quartz rocks we dug out of the mountains in North Carolina. 

My door is a blue space! 

I came in and read a David Whyte poem “The Fire in the Song.” It had the words “vibrant shapes” and I feel that is what I’ve documented here…the vibrant shapes of my community, my blue and green spaces, my Florida home.

Approval

 

Approval — the belief that someone or something is good and acceptable.

This past Tuesday, we saw Jim’s oncologist. He told us Jim’s cancer is stable —  no changes either way. Then he told us the insurance company denied any more treatments. He had appealed, saying this was an acceptable outcome.

United Health Care had already called and left a message say there had been an approval, so this took us by surprise. When we got home, we re-listened to the message. They said they were mailing a letter, and the approval was good through July 28.

I found myself in a slight panic mode. That would only be four more treatments. Are we going to have to keep going through this? It really bothered me. Jim reminded me not to worry about things that haven’t happened yet, but it kept floating around me. What if…

Meanwhile, the letter didn’t come. And didn’t come. I was checking every day. Finally it arrived.  

Turns out they had made an error by not approving, and the approval is good for a year.

Phew.

I originally was not going to tell this story, but I read this from Parker Palmer today:

…a life grounded in the reality of our own nature and our right relationship to the world allows us to stumble and fall, get back up, brush ourselves off, and take the next steps without doing ourselves harm.

My inner worries were doing me harm, and I knew it. But the reality is, I had awareness of it, and that is what is important. I knew it was there, but I kept grounding myself back to “do not worry, all will be well.”

I cannot wait for someone else’s approval to do right by myself. I stumbled into worry, but I didn’t fall. This is another necessary step for me. Stay aware. Stay one with what is. Believe is best outcomes.

Value, Rightness, and Truth

 

Today in my reading, I came across this quote from Trappist Monk Thomas Merton:

Do not depend on the hope of results...You may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and even achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect. As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results, but on the value, the rightness, and truth of the work itself.

This brought to mind immediately what happened at our school this week. I will begin with a conversation I had with a student named Charli.

 

Charli is in my intensive reading class and has been the hardest worker consistently all year. She put in tons of extra time on her iReady pathway, pushing herself to "low 8" status, which is great for a 7th grader. Right where she should be.

But Charli did not score proficient on the exam. She came in at a level 2 again. I could tell the promise of results had hurt her. She had been given false information: Do THIS and it will equal THAT.

To add insult to injury, there were other learners in that class who did score proficient, who did not do as well on assignments or put in the time on iReady. Yes, it can be puzzling. But only if you think standardized tests -- especially adaptive ones -- are true evidence. I have been savvy enough all along to know this is not necessarily true.

I explained to her that it could be, because the test is adaptive, she answered something wrong and it dipped her pathway. I don't actually KNOW, but I do know that is possible. Now I've heard there is a way for them to see exactly their ups and downs on the adaptation, but I haven't had a chance to talk to her about that yet, or figure out where to find it.

Since the kids are able to access their test scores very shortly after they are done testing, this has created a situation where the rest of the day they are asking each other about their test scores. This is fine for those who did well. But for those who didn't do as they hoped or expected, it is devastating.

This is doing nothing to help the mental health crisis we face, let me tell you.

What I want Charli to know is that her efforts were good for HER, even if it didn't result in the score she had hoped to attain. When I read the Merton quote, I thought about the value and the rightness and the truth in doing consistently good work with effort and persistence. It is devastating to think we are teaching these kids there is only one result that matters. The true results show up in the rest of their lives!

I recall when I taught Advanced Placement Literature. We would read books and poetry and discuss and present and write papers and try to improve those papers. There was a learning process involved. Students in the class could get an A and still not "pass" the AP exam [there is actually no pass score...just scores that can give you college credit and some that don't.]  Even if they didn't get but a 1 or 2 on the AP exam, they worked the process, they learned, they tried, they took risks. 

 

But at the time, someone out in the know-it-all world was screeching that their grade in the course should equal their score. I thought it was the most asinine thing I ever heard. How can the learning process equal the end score?As an educator, it makes no sense to me. What was the course for if not to learn how to read deeply and communicate ideas and write more fluently? If they already knew those things, why would they need the course? It's like saying athletes should excel perfectly in practice or they don't deserve to win the game. What?

 

In my reading I also noted this from Parker Palmer:

 

Once one has eyes to see it, wholeness can always be found, hidden beneath the broken surface of things.

 

So my message to Charli is to turn her focus to wholeness of learning. There are many things broken in our education system, and I've long felt standardized tests are part of that brokenness. Don't get stuck below the surface where the cracks are. Stay the course of the value of what you are learning, the rightness of what it can bring to the world, and the truth of who you are as a human. Those are the things that matter. Those are the things we must elevate. Those are the things we can trust.

An Elaborate Game

 

(This spontaneous riff inspired by David Kirby’s poem “King of Good Fellows”)

Writing this week was a real challenge. I felt like I wasn't able to clearly formulate my thoughts, or I didn't have any thoughts at all to formulate and had to stretch for inspiration. It hasn't been that way all along, so it was a tad frustrating. 

But then I read David Kirby's poem and I found words for what is somewhere in the periphery of my brain and heart and gut.

...what is Shakespeare 

doing if not throwing everything

against the wall and seeing

what sticks?

Yes, I thought, that is what this week has felt like. Throwing stuff against the wall and hoping I haven't totally lost my mojo.

Kirby continues about Shakespeare...

we see the world as it really is, 

a mishmash, a glorious shiny mess 

where I am king and you are queen,

but neither of us wears a crown.

Yes, I thought, mishmash. Maybe not so much glorious and shiny, but mess to be sure.

Then this...

 

Don't limit yourself, poets!

Do  you think Shakespeare said,

"I better limit myself.."

 

Yes! This whole exercise is about not limiting myself. A year of writing after a year of hardly every writing deserves a chance to test the limits. This can happen...right?

 

...because Shakespeare is so generous,

so kind to us...so possessed of a 

mind that makes no distinction

between anything and anything else.

 

Is that my problem? Too many distinctions? Reaching for something that I don't need to be reaching for?

 

an elaborate game that's totally

realistic and, at the same time,

make believe.

Ha! Maybe a bit more fantasy is needed, more imagination, more understanding that this isn't all THAT important. It's an elaborate game I'm playing in my own mind. 

a dream no one has dreamed yet,

but you're in it, and you're the star

Okay. Caught me. I think I'm so original, such a star. A little humility, gurl.

 

For some reason I felt compelled to color the picture of Pegasus I included on this post, even though I had no idea what meaning it could possibly bring. So I checked back into the Pegasus story and found he was instructed by Zeus to bring lightning and thunder from Olympus. He is the creator of Hippocrene (a fountain), and allowed Bellrophen to ride him to defeat the monster Chimera. Some stories have him dying at the hands of Zeus.

 

Sheesh. And you thought Shakespeare was throwing stuff at the wall to see what sticks? What about those Greeks? Clearly, it is all an elaborate game we play to entertain ourselves. What the hell else are we doing when we tell stories?

 

We are all limitless poets, dreaming a dream in which we star.

And...gotta admit...it's an elaborate game of which I'm rather fond.

Thanks, readers, for playing along.

Best Laid Plans

Didn’t get to write this morning

Slept late because I hadn’t slept well.

Had plans to write when I got home.

Then got involved in a tech issue hell

Now my newly opened Chardonnay waits for me,

and some shrimp tacos, too.

Try again tomorrow because

it’s the weekend, baby, 

and just 9 more days of school!

Survival

 

Yesterday after testing, we started our One Book, One School selection, Thunder Cave. Naturally, the after testing environment is chaotic, noisy, and completely insane. Trying to get their attention to start a read aloud was nearly impossible. I will have this challenge again today after the math test. 

When trying to think what to write today, I remembered a quote from the book that I am using for an activity—a spine poem. I decided today I’d write a spine poem about my need to survive this day, using the quote: “Survival is more important than getting there.”

Survival is the name of the game. It

is hardest on these days after testing.

More noise, more craziness, nothing

important to do. Rather

than calming things down, we are

getting barraged with misbehavior.

There is little that can be done.

(Just. Survive)

Titanic Lives On

We have come to the conclusion of another great Titanic project. The last couple of days we have spent doing a “read around” where students read each other’s passenger journals and give positive feedback. More than ever before, I was completely “wowed” by the effort so many students took to make their passenger come alive in our minds. Their imagination and creativity, supported by research, is what education is all about. I am forever grateful to Patricia Wachholz for introducing me to this project. This will probably be the best version of it I have seen, and I am grateful. 

Here are a selection of covers. No two journals were alike, and I feel deeply this type of assignment should not be the exception, but the rule. 

(Side note: our 7th grade science teacher has the kids creating habitat dioramas. I heard her commenting to our AP about how great it is going. I feel it is such a shame we feel forced to wait until the end of the year to do the best stuff!)

Voice (acrostic)

Vessels of kindness and

Openings of joy and connection

I look for these each day

Caring for others needs priority

Every generous action uplifted

“Living from the Inside Out”

 

I read a commencement address Parker Palmer gave at Naropa University in 2015. It has the same title as this blog.

There were two quotes I pulled out:

To grow in love and service, you must value ignorance as much as knowledge and failure as much as success.

…walk straight into your not knowing, and take the risk of failing and falling, again and again.

After reflecting on these a bit, I went on to write in my journal, and some really great ideas took form in an unexpected way. I’ve been thinking about how to approach things next year, and I had yet to tie it all together. I remembered things I had forgotten all about, and found they were a perfect fit for what I am trying to accomplish.

This all has to do with teaching, of course. I have annoyed myself sometimes when I look back on the blog and see how I rise and fall, commit and lose track, again and again. I secretly wonder if others are reading these words and saying to themselves “Hasn’t she figured it out yet?”

Parker’s words about living from the inside hit home because that is what I am doing in most instances…until I forget and try to control from the outside. When I think I’ve figured it out, I do my best to move forward. Yet, things throw me off track. Seems so repetitive.

But then, I wouldn’t take any action if I didn’t think I knew the way…right?

Still, not knowing can be valuable. Beginner’s mind. And taking a huge dose of that with my ideas is definitely something I need to remember to do. I need to allow for some innovation and adjustment.

*

I’m documenting some things here so I won’t forget. One of the things I remembered was the interactive journal, which I haven’t used in years. Once the Chromebook took over, the journal seemed outdated and lunky. But after this year I realize how deeply necessary it is. Not every day, but definitely on a regular basis. 

The other thing I remembered was my acronym BRIDGE that is now taking on new dimensions as well. This is a mnemonic I created a few years ago:

Build

Relationships.

Illuminate

Discovery.

Generate 

Expression.

I have already seen how these simple steps can be used to enhance the Global Perspectives curriculum. I’m going to keep fitting the pieces together, based on what I’ve learned in my years of teaching this course. Believe me, it can be pretty dry. I need a decent plan to accomplish what needs to be done.  I found it by looking a bit to the past, looking inside, and being willing to give form to it. 

I chose the graphic on this blog because of the spiral nature, but also the many designs and colors combining into a unified whole. This piece of art speaks to how variety can be enhancing and enlivening.

May I live that idea inside my classroom every day.

For the Love of Reading

 I don’t remember it, but I’m sure my mother read this book to me when around the time my brother Matthew was born. It may be the first book I owned.

I remember reading to her when I came home from school with the Dick and Jane books. She was patient and showed interest. At a young age, I was gifted with the knowledge that reading was a necessary and worthwhile activity.

From my dad’s standpoint, it was the comic section of the paper. I’ve always been an early riser, and when my dad got up at 6 a.m. to get ready for work, I was up as well, the comic section splayed out on the floor for me to read while he shaved and got dressed. 

My parents made sure I had a library card as soon as I was eligible to have one, and also made sure I took responsibility for the books. To this day, I don’t know how anyone survives without a library card. 

My mother is now 91-years-old and occasionally has the opportunity to read to the children at Chestnut Elementary School, where I attended 6th grade. I love when I see these photos of her interacting with children. It reminds me again that one of the greatest gifts she gave me was a love of reading.

Shining Together

Today I am inspired by David Kirby’s poem “Satisfaction,” where he muses on remembering to be happy.

I made a list of what I’m happy about from this week. I had instances of having to firmly remind myself to be happy, so this is necessary.

* Jim’s PET scan has indicated his cancer is stable —treatments will continue, but perhaps not as harsh. We’ll know more when we see the doc on Tuesday.

* The Titanic project has been a huge hit. Most everyone is pouring themselves into it.

*  I’ve been putting on clean pop music playlists while the kids work and they love it. One girl thanked me yesterday, saying “it helps her concentrate.”

* I did not put the desks back in groupings after testing and I’m thinking I may leave them this way. Perhaps the kids function better in rows.

* I found cards buried away I bought over a decade ago called Praise Notes. The last couple days while the kids worked, I wrote words of praise and quietly gave a select few the cards. So many are doing such wonderful things, it was time to acknowledge it.

* I’m happy this project has given me space to recognize the happy moments in the classroom, and I can relish them. 

* I’m happy my classroom feels fully mine. It’s been so elusive this year. I got it back just in time. Not many days left and I want to enjoy fully.

*Yesterday 12th period was all singing along to this song. We’ve had many rainy days this year, but “when we shine, we shine together.”

Dear Addison

 

When they heard the Civics exam was three hours

a girl named Addison said,

“They must really hate us.”

What am I to say to that?

I took notice in the 1990s how little 

we actually care for our kids, 

how most anything related to them 

is for greedy or political purposes.

Standardized tests were based on a false premise

to start with, and have only gotten

worse as time has gone on.

Now they are “adaptive” which means

one wrong answer and your trajectory

changes and there is nothing you can do

to fix it.

Everything we have taught about testing strategies

no longer applies. We are forcing

bad habits and punishing honest mistakes

that in the past had at least a chance of correction.

And even worse, it has opened up a world

of horrible curricula that do little to engage

and everything to form a direction of thinking

that simply may not work for every learner.

And they can be boring as hell,

and not connect to who or where

they are in life.

Maybe nobody actively hates our young people,

but they don’t necessarily care about true success.

It’s about numbers, and in a large way

trying to demonstrate the failure of public schools.

Fortunately, the excellent educators in this country

are doing their best to NOT let this happen.

So I write:

Dear Addison,

Know that your teachers are on your side.

We are doing our best to give you something real

to hang onto, and to help you know

learning is valuable in its own right.

We are doing what we can to soften the blow.

We love you.

Ms Sadler 

and all the others 

I can find myself flowers…(parody)

 (With apologies to Miley Cyrus)

I was rested, I was ready

A good night’s sleep had me steady

I was right with the day

Time for myself in its sway

I drove my car

To Lakes Park land

Camera firmly in my hand…

I can find myself flowers

Take steps on winding paths

Be one with them for an hour

The colors in varying swaths

I can find peace in the morning

Set my day upright

I can find myself flowers

And share the wonderful sight