A. felt safe in period six this year, and I am soooooooo happy. I hope she has discovered that making mistakes is no biggie, that she has a voice, and that she has meaningful contributions to make.
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Monday, June 19, 2017
Maybe the best compliment a middle school girl can give her teacher?
"In most classes I am very shy and don't tend to participate but in your class I love to raise my hand and say something even if I am wrong."
A. felt safe in period six this year, and I am soooooooo happy. I hope she has discovered that making mistakes is no biggie, that she has a voice, and that she has meaningful contributions to make.
A. felt safe in period six this year, and I am soooooooo happy. I hope she has discovered that making mistakes is no biggie, that she has a voice, and that she has meaningful contributions to make.
Saturday, November 19, 2016
"Now you are the student, and I am the master..." -Darth Vader
My favorite masked heavy breather perfectly describes a First Day of School I had a few years ago.
From day one I try to establish an open, trusting environment; my goal is to help each student view herself or himself as "gifted and talented" (although not necessarily the kind that comes with a high IQ).
As students are filling out their first day info cards, one of the questions is "What is something you are good at?" I explain that we are all good at something--some of us never lose friends; others can cook for a large family; others can sleep through a tornado; some can burp the alphabet. I tell them they aren't allowed to write "I don't know," but to look for abilities that may be overlooked. That year, I said, "Now me? I may be the slowest runner in the land and I can't do the Dougie [that year's current popular dance]. But I can beat you in Scrabble, all day long!" And so forth.
Sooooo after the final bell of the final class rang, instead of darting out the door to check their phones, one girl smilingly approached me.
"Miss Munnelly, I'm D. You teach people all day, and now it's time for someone to teach YOU. I am going to teach you how to Dougie!"
And she did.
Best first day ever.
From day one I try to establish an open, trusting environment; my goal is to help each student view herself or himself as "gifted and talented" (although not necessarily the kind that comes with a high IQ).
As students are filling out their first day info cards, one of the questions is "What is something you are good at?" I explain that we are all good at something--some of us never lose friends; others can cook for a large family; others can sleep through a tornado; some can burp the alphabet. I tell them they aren't allowed to write "I don't know," but to look for abilities that may be overlooked. That year, I said, "Now me? I may be the slowest runner in the land and I can't do the Dougie [that year's current popular dance]. But I can beat you in Scrabble, all day long!" And so forth.
Sooooo after the final bell of the final class rang, instead of darting out the door to check their phones, one girl smilingly approached me.
"Miss Munnelly, I'm D. You teach people all day, and now it's time for someone to teach YOU. I am going to teach you how to Dougie!"
And she did.
Best first day ever.
Friday, September 9, 2016
The Top Ten Cool and Groovy after Two Entire Weeks
The cool and the groovy about 2016/2017 thus far--best launch yet!!!!
1. I still have A/C! Hurrah!
2. No energy-sapping children! When I compare this year to last, I realize how tough a few of them really truly were, how much of my "teacher juice" was used in reining in the man-sized nonstop talker who never did his work during advisory and period 6, or the Trio of Terror that formed period 7 (I got them down to the Deadly Duo after a parent conference with one, but the other two? It was mostly my will against theirs. My will won, most days. Most. All days? The bell would ring and I would think, "Just in time!")
3. My day ends with a delightfully sweet class! Last year I ended with my largest and chattiest and Most Likely To Be Seen in the Counseling Office (see above).
4. My seminar class isn't cliquey! And, they have already earned donuts. This year may be expensive for me...(I buy donuts after a class earns four stars. Stars are earned when 100% of the class turns in their assignment.)
5. All of our new hires are really strong, great teachers! I often spend my preps in my colleagues' rooms as I grade my papers there. I steal all sorts of great ideas as well as see what else my kiddos' day looks like. I can also do a lil cross-discipline application when I know what's up. Annnnd I get to see my students' behavior with other teachers. That alone can be revelatory. I like my new history parter, too. I used to be considered the structured, organized 8th grade history teacher. This guy makes me look like improvisational. Hoping to learn from this kid--he's sharp.
6. The weather hasn't been super nasty! Last week was gross, but not as gross as some days of yore that I recall. Most days this week, I didn't use the A/C.
7. The blind guy came! Not the man with no sight, but the guy who measures our windows so we can get new blinds!! Yay! Mine are dingy and dirty. Some slats are bent, and one has a hole in it. Now that presents a puzzler: how did that hole arise??? I have been at my site so long that I remember when the current blinds were installed (yes, I've been teaching since 1932)...I never saw a kid stab a hole, and I'm an attentive teacher. I will never know.
8. My printer got fixed!! Joy!
9. One class only has 24 kids in it! It's my ideal number. The others are still sizable (34 in the other 4), but how fun to have one little one. And the books I recommended to them? They are all reading and enjoying them!! The Elephant Man, Bull Run, The Outsiders, To Kill a Mockingbird, Of Mice and Men... they are all hushed and focused during our advisory reading time. In fact, one girl tore out her John Green novel with a gleeful, "Yay! We get to read!" I'm in heaven.
10. Now you KNOW I love my A/C, but it really is obnoxiously loud. When it's on, half the class can't hear the other half, and I can't hear them. The decibels are ridiculous. But the custodian called in a work order....it's going to be fixed!!!!
This school year is just off to a magical start.
1. I still have A/C! Hurrah!
2. No energy-sapping children! When I compare this year to last, I realize how tough a few of them really truly were, how much of my "teacher juice" was used in reining in the man-sized nonstop talker who never did his work during advisory and period 6, or the Trio of Terror that formed period 7 (I got them down to the Deadly Duo after a parent conference with one, but the other two? It was mostly my will against theirs. My will won, most days. Most. All days? The bell would ring and I would think, "Just in time!")
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| Oh, is the bell ringing already??? |
3. My day ends with a delightfully sweet class! Last year I ended with my largest and chattiest and Most Likely To Be Seen in the Counseling Office (see above).
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| No more--I've got sweetie pies, now! |
4. My seminar class isn't cliquey! And, they have already earned donuts. This year may be expensive for me...(I buy donuts after a class earns four stars. Stars are earned when 100% of the class turns in their assignment.)
5. All of our new hires are really strong, great teachers! I often spend my preps in my colleagues' rooms as I grade my papers there. I steal all sorts of great ideas as well as see what else my kiddos' day looks like. I can also do a lil cross-discipline application when I know what's up. Annnnd I get to see my students' behavior with other teachers. That alone can be revelatory. I like my new history parter, too. I used to be considered the structured, organized 8th grade history teacher. This guy makes me look like improvisational. Hoping to learn from this kid--he's sharp.
 |
| Trying to be the best I can be by surrounding myself with greatness |
6. The weather hasn't been super nasty! Last week was gross, but not as gross as some days of yore that I recall. Most days this week, I didn't use the A/C.
 |
| Perfect. |
7. The blind guy came! Not the man with no sight, but the guy who measures our windows so we can get new blinds!! Yay! Mine are dingy and dirty. Some slats are bent, and one has a hole in it. Now that presents a puzzler: how did that hole arise??? I have been at my site so long that I remember when the current blinds were installed (yes, I've been teaching since 1932)...I never saw a kid stab a hole, and I'm an attentive teacher. I will never know.
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| Hopefully installation will go smoothly |
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| I hit print as soon as the repair lady left the room |
9. One class only has 24 kids in it! It's my ideal number. The others are still sizable (34 in the other 4), but how fun to have one little one. And the books I recommended to them? They are all reading and enjoying them!! The Elephant Man, Bull Run, The Outsiders, To Kill a Mockingbird, Of Mice and Men... they are all hushed and focused during our advisory reading time. In fact, one girl tore out her John Green novel with a gleeful, "Yay! We get to read!" I'm in heaven.
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| Yummy |
This school year is just off to a magical start.
Sunday, August 7, 2016
Seeing What We Do Not See: Not for Nothing
His parents and grandparents found out he had flunked out of high school at the moment they waited for him to walk across the stage--and he didn't.
He went on to a life of alcohol, low paying jobs, broken relationships.
Around age 48, he got sober and he realized that if he ever ever ever wanted to rise in the work world, he'd need a diploma, so he went back to school at night - he had a family that needed him to.
At age 50, Phillip Esquibel told this story during his address at his graduation from Grossmont Adult School--his parents were cheering for him, but I swear they weren't louder than I was. (They were glad, but I was crying like a baby. And for the record, some babies cry A LOT--those are the babies to whom I am comparing my crying output.)
I was at his graduation because a student I'd never even had on my roster asked me to come.
I'd met M in an after-school program our 8th grade history department had dreamed up after we realized that most of the Fs in our classes were because kids didn't seem to have one of the two fundamentals a person needs to succeed--adequate personal drive or an adult able/willing to MAKE them take care of business. We decided I'd be that adult, forcing them to come after school, making them stay an hour doing history work. They could "graduate" from our prison of love and responsibility once their habits or grades seemed established (we had only one or two kids exit). I didn't get paid for this, and we didn't have any help beyond the counselor who called the parents and talked to them about this intervention as if it were not an option. We had such limited success and it took so much of my energy that we only did it this one year.
Imagine my surprise when, seven years later, M came to visit the DP teacher's lounge at lunchtime with an invitation for me to come watch her get her GED at Grossmont Adult School. My heart leaped up that she had gone on to TCB on her own, coming to the realization (at age 20) that this was better done sooner than later. (NB: she invited me, not her regular teachers, to the event, although many of them were sitting right there as she asked me. I felt she had given me a crown or a Major Award in singling me out. It was awkward, but while embarrassed, I felt honored and touched to my core.)
I had never been to an adult school graduation and had no idea what to expect. It wasn't like other graduations I'd been to. It was small, for one thing; there were far more graduates than guests, even though guest seating was limited and some had to stand. The air somehow smelled a little bit like privation and the crowd was weathered and worn after the long day's work. Love was there, and all kinds of pride. The teachers in particular stood out to me, relentlessly positive, faces beaming, full of the stories that their students had told them of broken pasts healed, language and learning obstacles surmounted, wasted time redeemed, aimlessness turned to purpose, goals achieved, new goals set. The students themselves were full of hope and encouragement; one grad's mortarboard's glittered message: "I'm a g-ma--if I can, U can!"
It was the best graduation I've ever been to, better than the Harvard commencement address in Latin (which was hilarious because the student kept slipping into commonly used Latin words and phrases and into Pig Latin so the non-Latin speakers understood his gist) or the 1997 address by Madeleine Albright.
It was a validation of the human spirit, of the old saying that you're never too old to start, or it's not how you start but how you finish and dozens more old sayings about tenacity.
And watching beautiful M shake hands, taking pictures of her like mad, I wondered if it was also a validation of that long ago program that we'd jettisoned.
Or maybe it was a testimony to time given, to high expectations, to the influence of relentless attention, to the power of relationship. September is coming, and while I do love my summers and, like a proper Beach Boy look forward to my Endless Summer, I can pick up my new teacher year with a renewed sense of faith in the power of Love, knowing that while we teachers do not usually get to see the direct outcome of our efforts or caring, we do not love in vain.
He went on to a life of alcohol, low paying jobs, broken relationships.
Around age 48, he got sober and he realized that if he ever ever ever wanted to rise in the work world, he'd need a diploma, so he went back to school at night - he had a family that needed him to.
 |
| Grossmont Adult School |
I was at his graduation because a student I'd never even had on my roster asked me to come.
I'd met M in an after-school program our 8th grade history department had dreamed up after we realized that most of the Fs in our classes were because kids didn't seem to have one of the two fundamentals a person needs to succeed--adequate personal drive or an adult able/willing to MAKE them take care of business. We decided I'd be that adult, forcing them to come after school, making them stay an hour doing history work. They could "graduate" from our prison of love and responsibility once their habits or grades seemed established (we had only one or two kids exit). I didn't get paid for this, and we didn't have any help beyond the counselor who called the parents and talked to them about this intervention as if it were not an option. We had such limited success and it took so much of my energy that we only did it this one year.
Imagine my surprise when, seven years later, M came to visit the DP teacher's lounge at lunchtime with an invitation for me to come watch her get her GED at Grossmont Adult School. My heart leaped up that she had gone on to TCB on her own, coming to the realization (at age 20) that this was better done sooner than later. (NB: she invited me, not her regular teachers, to the event, although many of them were sitting right there as she asked me. I felt she had given me a crown or a Major Award in singling me out. It was awkward, but while embarrassed, I felt honored and touched to my core.)
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| This Major Award is also awkward and embarrassing. |
I had never been to an adult school graduation and had no idea what to expect. It wasn't like other graduations I'd been to. It was small, for one thing; there were far more graduates than guests, even though guest seating was limited and some had to stand. The air somehow smelled a little bit like privation and the crowd was weathered and worn after the long day's work. Love was there, and all kinds of pride. The teachers in particular stood out to me, relentlessly positive, faces beaming, full of the stories that their students had told them of broken pasts healed, language and learning obstacles surmounted, wasted time redeemed, aimlessness turned to purpose, goals achieved, new goals set. The students themselves were full of hope and encouragement; one grad's mortarboard's glittered message: "I'm a g-ma--if I can, U can!"
 |
| Much nicer than the glitter of the grandma graduating--but the idea is the same. BTW, the g-ma looked to be around 50 years old; that told part of her story. |
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| A great speech, sure, but Phillip's made me cry. |
And watching beautiful M shake hands, taking pictures of her like mad, I wondered if it was also a validation of that long ago program that we'd jettisoned.
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| Beautiful M shakes hands, ready for the next step in Life |
Thursday, November 26, 2015
Roll, firedrills, dead fish, and a tender psyche
The bell rings.
In a perfect world with a perfect teacher, this is the time roll is taken.
But the world isn't perfect, and neither am I. Class begins, I launch the lesson, and then--the fire alarm! I did not know (or I have forgotten) there was a drill today! Or is this real?
It doesn't matter. I send the students out the door, grab the red backpack containing our first aid and fire drill paperwork, and realize too late that, oh no, I don't have the paperwork AND I don't know who is absent. I fumble around inside the backpack, searching, finally realizing I'll just have to go out there and try to piece this together with my kids' help; I'm the last to arrive at our gathering spot.
When I'm out there, I count and recount students. "Can you think of anyone not here?" I implore the students. I send a paper up to the admin with my best guesses, the last to send the official red paper (except mine is white and unofficial).
After the drill, I search for my boss to apologize. He is angry. Let me write that again, properly: ANGRY. I tell him I don't have a good excuse but that I feel badly and it won't happen again, offering my hand in forgiveness. He places his in mine and it is as cold and lifeless as the dead fish that cold and lifeless handshakes are often compared to. He can't even look at me, he is so furious. I have made him look bad in front of his boss.
I wake up. Cheesy, but true. I begin to ponder the dream's significance.
Truth be told, I am quite bad about taking roll even when I am awake. It is one of those secretarial details that I find interferes with my launch into class. It has to be done six times a day because our school receives funding dependent upon the body count--the bodies don't have to be conscious, so far as I can tell, fyi. I have found a way around this which I don't care to share with the wide world; suffice it to say that apparently my psyche has some anxieties about taking roll. And maybe my psyche harbors anxieties about pleasing my boss, or about dead fish. But the bigger question is:
WHY AM I HAVING SCHOOL DREAMS DURING THANKSGIVING VACATION?
In a perfect world with a perfect teacher, this is the time roll is taken.
But the world isn't perfect, and neither am I. Class begins, I launch the lesson, and then--the fire alarm! I did not know (or I have forgotten) there was a drill today! Or is this real?
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| The law says we have to have one a month |
It doesn't matter. I send the students out the door, grab the red backpack containing our first aid and fire drill paperwork, and realize too late that, oh no, I don't have the paperwork AND I don't know who is absent. I fumble around inside the backpack, searching, finally realizing I'll just have to go out there and try to piece this together with my kids' help; I'm the last to arrive at our gathering spot.
 |
| We make our middle schoolers sit down for counting ease |
When I'm out there, I count and recount students. "Can you think of anyone not here?" I implore the students. I send a paper up to the admin with my best guesses, the last to send the official red paper (except mine is white and unofficial).
After the drill, I search for my boss to apologize. He is angry. Let me write that again, properly: ANGRY. I tell him I don't have a good excuse but that I feel badly and it won't happen again, offering my hand in forgiveness. He places his in mine and it is as cold and lifeless as the dead fish that cold and lifeless handshakes are often compared to. He can't even look at me, he is so furious. I have made him look bad in front of his boss.
I wake up. Cheesy, but true. I begin to ponder the dream's significance.
Truth be told, I am quite bad about taking roll even when I am awake. It is one of those secretarial details that I find interferes with my launch into class. It has to be done six times a day because our school receives funding dependent upon the body count--the bodies don't have to be conscious, so far as I can tell, fyi. I have found a way around this which I don't care to share with the wide world; suffice it to say that apparently my psyche has some anxieties about taking roll. And maybe my psyche harbors anxieties about pleasing my boss, or about dead fish. But the bigger question is:
WHY AM I HAVING SCHOOL DREAMS DURING THANKSGIVING VACATION?
Saturday, September 12, 2015
Launching 2015-2016
The first week has passed, and with it, these events:
1) The debut of Friedrich, B-5's air conditioner. He manages to keep my classroom below 80°, no small feat when the room is made out of cardboard, surrounded by blacktop, is stuffed with 36 people, and it's close to 100° outside. I am no longer slick and shiny and moments away from heat exhaustion when I leave school. I love you, Friedrich.
2) I have no heavy burdens this year in terms of behavior. Last year The Powers That Be saw fit to give me my third most challenging classroom combination right before lunch. Everyone was friends with everyone, and everyone thought everyone was hugely entertaining, and only about three students had a record of academic success. Through sheer force of teacher will and mother prayers (yes, I had my praying mom lift this class up on the daily), things held together most days and there were even some success stories. But this year everyone seems willing to learn and to come ride my crazy academic pony with no hard coaxing (or threats). Is this the power of Friedrich? An exceptional group of kidlets? I don't care, I'll take it.
3) I had a special delivery of amazing cookies on the first Friday--spectacularly delicious. I think my favorite were the Reese's Pieces/peanut butter cup/Butterfinger kind, but the Almond Joy white chocolate and Oreo cookie's n cream gave them a run. A former student (on my wall of fame for other reasons, but I shall add "Gourmet Baker" to the list of accomplishments) had them sent to me and my hips. All of us are grateful.
4) As the bell finished ringing period 7 on Friday, R. stayed to make sure all the chairs were on the tables so the custodian could vacuum, generally straightening books as he went along.
"Do you need help with anything, Miss M?" R. asked.
Smiling at his middle school boyishness, I looked around at the classroom: "Not today, but how kind of you to offer. I so appreciate that."
"Because I want you to know that even if I didn't have your class at the end of the day, I'd still come over here to help you after school."
And that, friends, is why I know I have the best job in the world.
1) The debut of Friedrich, B-5's air conditioner. He manages to keep my classroom below 80°, no small feat when the room is made out of cardboard, surrounded by blacktop, is stuffed with 36 people, and it's close to 100° outside. I am no longer slick and shiny and moments away from heat exhaustion when I leave school. I love you, Friedrich.
2) I have no heavy burdens this year in terms of behavior. Last year The Powers That Be saw fit to give me my third most challenging classroom combination right before lunch. Everyone was friends with everyone, and everyone thought everyone was hugely entertaining, and only about three students had a record of academic success. Through sheer force of teacher will and mother prayers (yes, I had my praying mom lift this class up on the daily), things held together most days and there were even some success stories. But this year everyone seems willing to learn and to come ride my crazy academic pony with no hard coaxing (or threats). Is this the power of Friedrich? An exceptional group of kidlets? I don't care, I'll take it.
3) I had a special delivery of amazing cookies on the first Friday--spectacularly delicious. I think my favorite were the Reese's Pieces/peanut butter cup/Butterfinger kind, but the Almond Joy white chocolate and Oreo cookie's n cream gave them a run. A former student (on my wall of fame for other reasons, but I shall add "Gourmet Baker" to the list of accomplishments) had them sent to me and my hips. All of us are grateful.
4) As the bell finished ringing period 7 on Friday, R. stayed to make sure all the chairs were on the tables so the custodian could vacuum, generally straightening books as he went along.
"Do you need help with anything, Miss M?" R. asked.
Smiling at his middle school boyishness, I looked around at the classroom: "Not today, but how kind of you to offer. I so appreciate that."
"Because I want you to know that even if I didn't have your class at the end of the day, I'd still come over here to help you after school."
And that, friends, is why I know I have the best job in the world.
How to Exponentially Increase Attention, Learning, Energy, and Morale of both Students and Teacher
AIR CONDITIONING:
Among God's many blessings
You are the coolest.
Among God's many blessings
You are the coolest.
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| This is Friedrich, everybody. |
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Miracle Fudge, Panic, and a Really Long List
I do some quick mental calendar work and remind myself that I still have NINE more days before I am back in the saddle. I literally have to focus on breathing properly for the next few moments.
What gives? (And of all my students, why Z?)
This is no one-time event. It happens nearly every break we have. My colleague shared she had a school nightmare the other night, you know, the one where she's unprepared....Are teachers the only ones with nightmares with this recurring theme?
I confess to looking at this list of things to do and getting freaked out:
design a memorial program
laundry
return stuff to Target
write thank yous
grade papers
record papers
plan our history document-based essays--how to do this????
refocus our Lord of the Flies unit--and get ready for our Big Paper
gym
put Christmas stuff away
bookstore to buy books for two of the book clubs I'm in
plan an event
edit my pastor's book
read for the two of the book clubs
have loads of fun
But everyone has to-do lists. I just need to chill out.
*Miracle Fudge. ALL wonderful chocolatey goodness, ZERO calories.**
**Oh, my imagination is really good. It's miraculous because it's so delicious.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Cookies, Money, Compassion, and Cookies
On the first day of school, I found out Batman was in my class.
On the THIRD DAY, people!
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| cookies not homemade. me no care. |
During the second week of school after I shared with the kids that I had a foreign money collection, four separate kids brought me currency from Fiji, Mexico, Vietnam, and the E.U.
During the third week of school, I couldn't find my reward candy. I shared my sadness with the class that the only time I'd had stuff stolen from me was once years ago, in the notorious Year of the Stolen Sodas, and that I was sad my candy was gone. The next day, two separate kids brought me candy to replace what was lost.
I've brought in donuts to the Seminerds already for having 100% homework turned in three times (the bar is upped to four, now).
This fourth week I found the candy--I am losing my brain cells in this stupefying heat, or maybe old age--and I got to rejoice with them ALL for being upright and trustworthy!
AND this fourth week the same kid again brought in cookies for the class.
Yeah, ridiculously hot and humid weather aside (and no a/c in sight), we're off to a great start.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
"Mommy! Mommy!"
Have a nightmare when you are little, and you wake up, run to your parents' bedroom and get some immediate comfort there. I had this year's first school dream--nightmare, really--last night, with no Mommy in sight. Glad the alarm went off, because while I was persevering in my dream, it was NO FUN. (Understatement.)
I'd been last-minute transferred to another site;
Of course no rosters;
Thrown into a classroom that wasn't kid-ready, or me-ready;
After the bell had rung.
Next door was a band room that kept the door open.
On the other side of my room was a huge room that kids could just slip into unnoticed because I had no rosters and didn't know who my kids were.
I was desperately obeying the First Rule of Middle School Teaching: "Stay calm." But there was no way I could obey The Second Rule of Middle School Teaching, "Be over prepared," because, well, last-minute transfer to a crazy room after the bell.
I suppose it could have been worse. I mean, at least I had my clothes on, right??
I'd been last-minute transferred to another site;Of course no rosters;
Thrown into a classroom that wasn't kid-ready, or me-ready;
After the bell had rung.
Next door was a band room that kept the door open.
On the other side of my room was a huge room that kids could just slip into unnoticed because I had no rosters and didn't know who my kids were.
I was desperately obeying the First Rule of Middle School Teaching: "Stay calm." But there was no way I could obey The Second Rule of Middle School Teaching, "Be over prepared," because, well, last-minute transfer to a crazy room after the bell.
I suppose it could have been worse. I mean, at least I had my clothes on, right??
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Get the Kleenex--Promotion 2014
Every year I fall in love, and every year I'm left.They have flown away to high school.
All of the promotion speeches are terrific--I especially appreciate the way N. expresses his initial fears of entering the sixth grade, something like "I was apprehensive, given my diminutive stature and what I'd heard about the social hierarchy...I was a baby gazelle, easy prey to lions that shaved twice a day...." Oh my gosh! His speech is hilarious and inspirational, and yes, that's really how he writes. His delivery is natural and wreathed in smiles, but my eyes get all teary.
The promotion music is fabulous. A. confidently strums her guitar--I didn't know she plays the guitar! And then she confidently sings. I didn't know she sings!--and my teary eyes don't get a break.
I get into a compliment war with K.'s mom. "You taught her so much and have enabled her to get this far!" "She only came this far because you have supported her at home!" "But the lessons you gave her will shape and affect her entire career!" "And her drive and work ethic were right there from day one, because of your fine parenting!" (We hug it out. Truce.)
J's dad says, "You are much prettier without your beard." I don't know how to respond until he reminds me that he'd first met me at Open House when I was dressed up in honor of International Talk Like a Pirate Day, complete with pirate whiskers. Now J. has to move to Okinawa--dad's military orders. J. is not glad about this, so our hug has some sorrow, and J. does not promise to come visit as so many of them do. I try to give him the bright, you'll-get-out-there-and-it'll-be-awesome smile (one of dozens of smile types a teacher uses), but we both have trouble...
They are resplendent. I do not exaggerate when I say that this was the best year yet. One proof? Every year I pass out sweaters to enforce our school dress code. Not one sweater this year. I'm telling ya. The boys are sharp and the girls look like butterflies.
They finish strong and classy and are utterly beautiful. There is no question that I love me some summer, but instead of the usual mad and delirious whoops of joy, I leave campus with some seriously damp eyes.
Friday, March 7, 2014
Elie Weisel and the Little Rock Nine: Unbelievable but True
The first time I ever taught Night by Elie Wiesel, as I scrambled for resources to do this memoir justice, I stumbled upon wonderful materials that were written by one Dr Chris Frost. Mr. Google told me he was a professor at a nearby university. I sent him an email asking if he'd mind if some precocious 8th graders used his materials as we studied the book. He said we could--and offered to come lecture the students--for free.
I was floored by the generous gift of his time (and that he was unafraid of 8th graders, as many adults seem to be). As it turned out, he was one of just 18 students to sit under Wiesel at NYU the first time Weisel taught his own book. Can you even believe it???
His presentation gave our students rare insight into Night and afforded us an opportunity to ask loads of questions. At the end, we presented him with three carnations--a white one for Elie and those who endured the Holocaust, a red one for those who, like Dr. Frost, were teaching truth, and a pink one to represent the students and their promise--he was visibly moved. He said, "I'll have to tell Elie about this today." Can you even believe it???
When asked what courses he was teaching next, he said he was teaching a summer course comparing C. S. Lewis and Sigmund Freud....in Oxford, England. It so happened that I was going to Oxford to spend a week at the C. S. Lewis conference. "We'll have to meet up," he said. "I'd love to crash a class," I said. Can you even believe it???
It turned out the last full day the students and he would be in Oxford was my first day at the event so I couldn't sit in on his lecture. But then I got my agenda for the conference and that first evening Lamb's Players Theater was presenting "Freud's Last Session," a play about....ohmigosh, an imagined meeting of Freud and Lewis. He was able to get permission to see it with his students. Can you even believe it???
So this year is the first year I am teaching Warriors Don't Cry by Melba Patillo Beals, one of the Little Rock Nine who integrated Central High School in 1957. A parent of one of my kiddos forwarded a flyer informing us that Carlotta Walls LaNier, the youngest of the Nine, was to speak that very week at a local community college. And after a riveting evening of insights and stories and questions answered, I was in line to buy her book when one of my students came over to present me with a copy as a gift!! Can you even believe it???
Mrs. LaNier signed our books and agreed to a photo with us. I don't ordinarily rub shoulders with historical figures...and I want to have proof that it really happened. Because I can hardly believe it.
I was floored by the generous gift of his time (and that he was unafraid of 8th graders, as many adults seem to be). As it turned out, he was one of just 18 students to sit under Wiesel at NYU the first time Weisel taught his own book. Can you even believe it???
His presentation gave our students rare insight into Night and afforded us an opportunity to ask loads of questions. At the end, we presented him with three carnations--a white one for Elie and those who endured the Holocaust, a red one for those who, like Dr. Frost, were teaching truth, and a pink one to represent the students and their promise--he was visibly moved. He said, "I'll have to tell Elie about this today." Can you even believe it???
When asked what courses he was teaching next, he said he was teaching a summer course comparing C. S. Lewis and Sigmund Freud....in Oxford, England. It so happened that I was going to Oxford to spend a week at the C. S. Lewis conference. "We'll have to meet up," he said. "I'd love to crash a class," I said. Can you even believe it???
It turned out the last full day the students and he would be in Oxford was my first day at the event so I couldn't sit in on his lecture. But then I got my agenda for the conference and that first evening Lamb's Players Theater was presenting "Freud's Last Session," a play about....ohmigosh, an imagined meeting of Freud and Lewis. He was able to get permission to see it with his students. Can you even believe it???
So this year is the first year I am teaching Warriors Don't Cry by Melba Patillo Beals, one of the Little Rock Nine who integrated Central High School in 1957. A parent of one of my kiddos forwarded a flyer informing us that Carlotta Walls LaNier, the youngest of the Nine, was to speak that very week at a local community college. And after a riveting evening of insights and stories and questions answered, I was in line to buy her book when one of my students came over to present me with a copy as a gift!! Can you even believe it???
Mrs. LaNier signed our books and agreed to a photo with us. I don't ordinarily rub shoulders with historical figures...and I want to have proof that it really happened. Because I can hardly believe it.
 |
| Here is a picture with two world changers--one of the Little Rock Nine who courageously stood up for justice and my student MRC., an incredible girl who is so gifted I can't believe I get to teach her and I can't wait to see how she impacts our future. |
Monday, November 18, 2013
Launching a Novel: A Team Approach
Today was Day One....but the books weren't here yet so I needed to stall.
I already had the kids in groups of four balanced for extrovert/introvertedness and work ethic (they are all bright, so I didn't have to worry about that). On the board were posted nine teams--or ISLANDS, as I am calling them:
Conch Fire Pigs Spectacles The Beast Ralph Piggy Jack Simon
First, we had a rock/paper/scissors war to see which team chose which name. And then, in reverse order, teams select from nine different colored team name tags. And then, teams had to choose an alliterative name and design the name tag. This took all period!
(I felt a little badly, because I know how some of the teams will bond with their character--Piggy's team will be upset, but will they be more upset than Jack's team? And Jack [his real name] is on Jack's team....but....)
....This was team bonding. They were exercising decision-making and tomorrow when we discuss leadership styles and launch the book, they will not only be analyzing the characters in the novel, but the characters on their "island."
So here they are:
Cool Conches
Fergalicious Fire
Petrifying Pigs
Sassy Squid Specs
Bewildering Beasts
Reck-it Ralph
Proper Piggys
Just Jack. (with the period)
Simon Says
These tags are on a board, and there will be a place for the best team for that assignment to move to called "Who's Got the Conch?" Plus, when I was in Puerto Rico I bought a gigantical conch and it will be magical when they see it after Ralph in the book finds it. And they will enjoy David Gunnar blasting it (especially since one Sassy Squid Spec is named Gunnar) :
Don't be fooled by this dorky intro; we will be reading Thomas Hobbes, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Sigmund Freud, leadership theory, and more before we end, and we will each write a serious piece of literary analysis. The culminating salon will be a luau with ROAST PORK, of course, and each Island will decorate their table appropriate to their symbol/character, and will present at the luau how their character or item highlights Golding's theme, adds to the plot, and something else I haven't yet decided.
Having the students on Islands means they have built-in discussion partners, built-in, long-haul team work, and that some days I'll only have to collect nine assignments instead of 36. I am also pitting them against each other (overtures of Jack versus Ralph, right?) for each response and that should up the quality for this highly competitive group. My dream class would be where we could decorate the room like the island in the book as we learned details about it...
I already had the kids in groups of four balanced for extrovert/introvertedness and work ethic (they are all bright, so I didn't have to worry about that). On the board were posted nine teams--or ISLANDS, as I am calling them:
Conch Fire Pigs Spectacles The Beast Ralph Piggy Jack Simon
First, we had a rock/paper/scissors war to see which team chose which name. And then, in reverse order, teams select from nine different colored team name tags. And then, teams had to choose an alliterative name and design the name tag. This took all period!
(I felt a little badly, because I know how some of the teams will bond with their character--Piggy's team will be upset, but will they be more upset than Jack's team? And Jack [his real name] is on Jack's team....but....)
....This was team bonding. They were exercising decision-making and tomorrow when we discuss leadership styles and launch the book, they will not only be analyzing the characters in the novel, but the characters on their "island."
So here they are:
Cool Conches
Fergalicious Fire
Petrifying Pigs
Sassy Squid Specs
Bewildering Beasts
Reck-it Ralph
Proper Piggys
Just Jack. (with the period)
Simon Says
These tags are on a board, and there will be a place for the best team for that assignment to move to called "Who's Got the Conch?" Plus, when I was in Puerto Rico I bought a gigantical conch and it will be magical when they see it after Ralph in the book finds it. And they will enjoy David Gunnar blasting it (especially since one Sassy Squid Spec is named Gunnar) :
Don't be fooled by this dorky intro; we will be reading Thomas Hobbes, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Sigmund Freud, leadership theory, and more before we end, and we will each write a serious piece of literary analysis. The culminating salon will be a luau with ROAST PORK, of course, and each Island will decorate their table appropriate to their symbol/character, and will present at the luau how their character or item highlights Golding's theme, adds to the plot, and something else I haven't yet decided.
Having the students on Islands means they have built-in discussion partners, built-in, long-haul team work, and that some days I'll only have to collect nine assignments instead of 36. I am also pitting them against each other (overtures of Jack versus Ralph, right?) for each response and that should up the quality for this highly competitive group. My dream class would be where we could decorate the room like the island in the book as we learned details about it...
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Feeding Your Teacher-Soul
Let me lay down some truth:
1) No one understands this job who hasn't done it, but they all think they understand. People will always say stupid things like, "If you complain about grading it, why did you assign it?" They will say stupid things like, "You get out at 2:30 and get all those holidays off." It helps me to remember that if Jesus forgave people for crucifying Him, I should forgive such radical, deep-seated, COLOSSAL IGNORANCE of what it takes to do this job well. Keeps the old blood pressure low.
2) If you care about your job at all, Teacher Brain happens. This is a condition that is marked by the inability to think or talk much about anything else except what happened in the classroom and what you need to get done for school. Where ever you go, you are thinking about lesson plans or challenging students. It can make you verrrrry boring because all of your sentences begin something like, "Last Thursday in period 4...." In extreme cases of Teacher Brain, you dream about school all the time.
Now teaching is the most important job besides parenting. And I love it. But the Two Truths have made me doubt what I do at times. Look, forever being misunderstood and isolated by my career's idiosyncrasies is no way to live my one precious life.
So here are some ways I've found to feed my Teacher-Soul.
a) Unplug. Choose one night a week to go screenless. No grading allowed. No planning. If at all possible, no talking. Find the quiet. Ahhh.
b) Read a book that is NOT a professional development book. (This is my favorite!)
c) Read Angela Watson's Awakened, a book specifically written to help us teachers deal with Teacher Brain and teacher burn out. It's reallllllly sensible, and since Watson was a teacher, she KNOWS.
d) Watch teacher movies that inspire you, not demean you. Say "yes" to "The Ron Clark Story," "Stand and Deliver," "Dangerous Minds," "To Sir with Love" and the like. Buy them. Watch them when you are down. Avoid movies that trivialize the true work of educators.
e) Schedule fun. If you don't, those @#$% essays will consume you and embitter you. (Not a pretty combo.)
f) Join social media that is deliberately teacher-uplifting. I am loving Angela Watson's "Encouraging Teachers" on MugBook. Talking to other people who really DO understand what you do is a safe place to vent without boring anyone, and no one will say profoundly STUPID things.
e) If you can swing it financially, keep your precious summers free of summer school. It'll take a little while for Teacher Brain to subside, but that time will rejuvenate you and ensure that you love your job even two decades after you started. Well, that's a personal testimony. But we simply MUST step away from the classroom for our own mental well-being.
f) Exercise! But you already knew that one, right?
1) No one understands this job who hasn't done it, but they all think they understand. People will always say stupid things like, "If you complain about grading it, why did you assign it?" They will say stupid things like, "You get out at 2:30 and get all those holidays off." It helps me to remember that if Jesus forgave people for crucifying Him, I should forgive such radical, deep-seated, COLOSSAL IGNORANCE of what it takes to do this job well. Keeps the old blood pressure low.
2) If you care about your job at all, Teacher Brain happens. This is a condition that is marked by the inability to think or talk much about anything else except what happened in the classroom and what you need to get done for school. Where ever you go, you are thinking about lesson plans or challenging students. It can make you verrrrry boring because all of your sentences begin something like, "Last Thursday in period 4...." In extreme cases of Teacher Brain, you dream about school all the time.
Now teaching is the most important job besides parenting. And I love it. But the Two Truths have made me doubt what I do at times. Look, forever being misunderstood and isolated by my career's idiosyncrasies is no way to live my one precious life.
So here are some ways I've found to feed my Teacher-Soul.
a) Unplug. Choose one night a week to go screenless. No grading allowed. No planning. If at all possible, no talking. Find the quiet. Ahhh.
b) Read a book that is NOT a professional development book. (This is my favorite!)
c) Read Angela Watson's Awakened, a book specifically written to help us teachers deal with Teacher Brain and teacher burn out. It's reallllllly sensible, and since Watson was a teacher, she KNOWS.
d) Watch teacher movies that inspire you, not demean you. Say "yes" to "The Ron Clark Story," "Stand and Deliver," "Dangerous Minds," "To Sir with Love" and the like. Buy them. Watch them when you are down. Avoid movies that trivialize the true work of educators.
e) Schedule fun. If you don't, those @#$% essays will consume you and embitter you. (Not a pretty combo.)
f) Join social media that is deliberately teacher-uplifting. I am loving Angela Watson's "Encouraging Teachers" on MugBook. Talking to other people who really DO understand what you do is a safe place to vent without boring anyone, and no one will say profoundly STUPID things.
e) If you can swing it financially, keep your precious summers free of summer school. It'll take a little while for Teacher Brain to subside, but that time will rejuvenate you and ensure that you love your job even two decades after you started. Well, that's a personal testimony. But we simply MUST step away from the classroom for our own mental well-being.
f) Exercise! But you already knew that one, right?
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Teach me HOW to, Dougie....and I'm just wild about Harry
THE FIRST DAYS OF SCHOOL: For many years I have believed Harry Wong was the only one who really knew how to write so that teachers would become better at what they do. He knew without good management skills, good teaching was near impossible. When he said to NOT do a fun activity to lead the year, it was water in my face--a shock. Really? Wouldn't that make kids excited about school? But he explains himself and he is right. I have read this book sixteen (16) (XVI) times and it's probably time for me to do so again. Wong always reminds the reader of how respectable our profession is, how indispensable, how wonderful. He makes me proud of what I have chosen to do, and he helps me do it better.
At first I thought that was it. This was the one really great useful book for teachers. Oh sure, there were lots of little inspirational ones, or little helpy ones that usually didn't apply to my content or whatever. But then our site decided to delve school-wide into:
TEACH LIKE A CHAMPION: Doug Lemov succinctly explains the best techniques that the best teachers use, and he shares how to implement them. He cares about EVIDENCE, not trends, upon PROOF, not intuition. I kind of laugh when I hear some of our staff members say, "This is all stuff I do already," because, tee hee, "No it isn't. You do SOME of the stuff, and some of the stuff you do, you do in the way that he says not to do." Not gonna lie--I thought I was a pretty good teacher until I read this book. I have a long way to go and lots of room to improve, and Lemov's eminently useful book is going to get me farther in my journey to be an awesome teacher than I could have dreamed. I also bought the field guide to accompany the book but can't speak to that since I haven't cracked it open yet. Lemov makes me eager to see how much I can grow.
At first I thought that was it. This was the one really great useful book for teachers. Oh sure, there were lots of little inspirational ones, or little helpy ones that usually didn't apply to my content or whatever. But then our site decided to delve school-wide into:
TEACH LIKE A CHAMPION: Doug Lemov succinctly explains the best techniques that the best teachers use, and he shares how to implement them. He cares about EVIDENCE, not trends, upon PROOF, not intuition. I kind of laugh when I hear some of our staff members say, "This is all stuff I do already," because, tee hee, "No it isn't. You do SOME of the stuff, and some of the stuff you do, you do in the way that he says not to do." Not gonna lie--I thought I was a pretty good teacher until I read this book. I have a long way to go and lots of room to improve, and Lemov's eminently useful book is going to get me farther in my journey to be an awesome teacher than I could have dreamed. I also bought the field guide to accompany the book but can't speak to that since I haven't cracked it open yet. Lemov makes me eager to see how much I can grow.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Homework done!
I've rediscovered
the joy of days I choose to fill
(NOT paperwork--NO!)
Chick Fil A gave free
breakfast to us, dressed as cows,
my awesome cousins
And then alfresco
lunch at the winery with
mom and dear friend
Theater tonight!
Playing on my retirement
island. (C'mon, Lotto!)
And I just finished
one of the best books I've read
in years of Sundays
the joy of days I choose to fill
(NOT paperwork--NO!)
breakfast to us, dressed as cows,
my awesome cousins
And then alfresco
lunch at the winery with
mom and dear friend
Theater tonight!
Playing on my retirement
island. (C'mon, Lotto!)
And I just finished
one of the best books I've read
in years of Sundays
Friday, May 24, 2013
Teaching My Favorite
Loving a book is one thing; teaching it to a class--in late May-- is another. My man Abe Lincoln said you can't please all of the people all of the time, but something in me needs everyone to like, nay, love this book. I first taught To Kill a Mockingbird to the first 9th grade English class I ever had, exactly three days after I'd read it for the first time--I loved it so much I HAD to share it with kids, right away. Trouble is, if a kid doesn't like this book, I am mortally wounded and darkly conclude the child has no soul. Fast forward a billion years and I love the book even more, so am even more crushed and devastated if anyone rejects my favorite. Mr. B., the math teacher, told me the kids were buzzing about the book, really enjoying it, pursuing conversations about it outside my classroom. YESSSSS! Perhaps it is inevitable--one of my kiddos' middle name is (really and truly) "Atticus."
And imagine my elation when JB., upon entering my bungalow this morning and seeing the weekend's homework was to read three chapters, voiced, "YESSSSS!" with a huge smile on his face.
"JB., you're not mad you have some homework over the weekend?"
"No, Miss M--I LOVE THIS BOOK!"
And yes, he said it in all capital letters; my heart heard his correctly.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
"It Is so Happy to Love..."
"It is with great revelry and pride
that we send our
physician into the future.
Join us for the graduation of
Dr. M. M. G.
from Des Moines University
College of Medicine
on May 25, 2013"
M. was in my first class at my present school, one of the sparkliest diamonds in a pretty dang sparkly class, let's see, waaay back in 1998-1999. She is 26 now, having chosen the most difficult degree to pursue, and the world is better off because of her. I am soooo proud.
When you love someone, you are vulnerable. When someone you love makes bad choices, you hurt, too. As a teacher I love about 160 new people a year. I have been teaching over 20 years. Frankly, that's a lot of hurting. I have corresponded with a former in prison who can't seem to shake drugs and the accompanying crime. I have attended the baby shower of a former who dropped out when she got pregnant during her senior year in high school (well I tried, but her water broke that morning so the shower was cancelled). I have heard of formers who work in the porn industry. One of my formers ran a drug ring at SDSU and will be in prison for a while. I have heard news about formers shot dead. One student fell to her death jumping out of a window to elude police crashing an underage party. These events are devastating. The hurts are nigh inconsolable.
This graduation invitation boosts me. She did not become a doctor because of me, nor did I steer her from bad decisions. She came out of the womb, I think, with her head on straight, and she kept it straight. This success boosts me because when you love someone who achieves her goal, you feel her exhilaration, her relief, her joy. It warms me because she is including me in her circle, knowing how great this makes me feel, who have always cheered her on, admiring her, knowing she could do anything with her big brain and bright smile.
Here is a quote from my favorite allegory, Hind's Feet on High Places, that sums up why Love is always worth it, even though Pain is the risk:
“She bent forward to look, then gave a startled little cry and drew
back. There was indeed a seed lying in the palm of his hand, but it was
shaped exactly like a long, sharply-pointed thorn… ‘The seed looks very
sharp,’ she said shrinkingly. ’Won’t it hurt if you put it into my
heart?’
He answered gently, ‘It is so sharp that it slips in very quickly. But, Much-Afraid, I have already warned you that Love and Pain go together, for a time at least. If you would know Love, you must know pain too.’
Much-Afraid looked at the thorn and shrank from it. Then she looked at the Shepherd’s face and repeated his words to herself. ’When the seed of Love in your heart is ready to bloom, you will be loved in return,’ and a strange new courage entered her. She suddenly stepped forward, bared her heart, and said, ‘Please plant the seed here in my heart.’
His face lit up with a glad smile and he said with a note of joy in his voice, ‘Now you will be able to go with me to the High Places and be a citizen in the Kingdom of my Father.’
Then he pressed the thorn into her heart. It was true, just as he had said, it did cause a piercing pain, but it slipped in quickly and then, suddenly, a sweetness she had never felt or imagined before tingled through her. It was bittersweet, but the sweetness was the stronger. She thought of the Shepherd’s words, ‘It is so happy to love,’ and her pale, sallow cheeks suddenly glowed pink and her eyes shown. For a moment Much-Afraid did not look afraid at all.”
― Hannah Hurnard, Hinds' Feet on High Places
He answered gently, ‘It is so sharp that it slips in very quickly. But, Much-Afraid, I have already warned you that Love and Pain go together, for a time at least. If you would know Love, you must know pain too.’
Much-Afraid looked at the thorn and shrank from it. Then she looked at the Shepherd’s face and repeated his words to herself. ’When the seed of Love in your heart is ready to bloom, you will be loved in return,’ and a strange new courage entered her. She suddenly stepped forward, bared her heart, and said, ‘Please plant the seed here in my heart.’
His face lit up with a glad smile and he said with a note of joy in his voice, ‘Now you will be able to go with me to the High Places and be a citizen in the Kingdom of my Father.’
Then he pressed the thorn into her heart. It was true, just as he had said, it did cause a piercing pain, but it slipped in quickly and then, suddenly, a sweetness she had never felt or imagined before tingled through her. It was bittersweet, but the sweetness was the stronger. She thought of the Shepherd’s words, ‘It is so happy to love,’ and her pale, sallow cheeks suddenly glowed pink and her eyes shown. For a moment Much-Afraid did not look afraid at all.”
― Hannah Hurnard, Hinds' Feet on High Places
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Young Scholars: ¡Vivan los Cerebros!
Why sponsor another club and have even less time to do the things I already don't have time to do? In reply, all I can do is show you pictures of the Reasons I do what I do. And when you see them, you'll understand why our school will be participating in the third annual Young Scholars Academic Fair this coming spring:
Last year was our first year, and we took first place! Well not quite, but second place was pretty close. You can perhaps see our translucent trophy held by our captain, K, on the rainiest Saturday of 2012.
We won every pre-final match--we beat every team, including the dreaded Marshall Middle School, the previous year's champs. Matches were tightly controlled, academic league style, which is probably not as cool as gangnam style, but waaay more inspiring:
And then we got served. Oak Valley had a WMD of their own, and ours just couldn't seem to launch. We got obliterated. We were disappointed, and a few feisty ones were angry because our W-L record was the same as OVMS yet we took second, and it took all of my teacher powers to scrape their spirits off the floor and send them over with sincere faces and kind words to congratulate the team that bested them fair and square. And I think that helped them find their pride again.
This year we have three returning players and a flood of new talent. I don't think anyone is on A.'s level of weird retention of every fact about everything in the known universe, but the students had so much fun at our first practice this week and expressed such a desire to take first place that Oak Valley better watch out.
I suppose part of my sponsorship is my deep angst that sports overshadows academics in this land I love. Music programs get cut, but not football. So long, Art, but football is the sacred cow. I wish brains got the same accolades that catching a ball brings, but our country largely distrusts intellectuals and dismisses them as out of touch (one reason Obama gets bashed). Yet aside from my philosophy of education, just look at their faces: they are excited about being smart! And that's reason enough.
 |
| March 17, 2012: second place winners at YSAF (but first cutest) |
Last year was our first year, and we took first place! Well not quite, but second place was pretty close. You can perhaps see our translucent trophy held by our captain, K, on the rainiest Saturday of 2012.
We won every pre-final match--we beat every team, including the dreaded Marshall Middle School, the previous year's champs. Matches were tightly controlled, academic league style, which is probably not as cool as gangnam style, but waaay more inspiring:
 |
| Kicking academic booty |
We were beyond excited for the championship match against Oak Valley Middle School--after all, we had A. whom we nicknamed WMD because really, his knowledge of everything in the world was atomic, plus we had beat them in an earlier match. We had team spirit--kids thought calling themselves The Skittles was awesome since the candy is bright (as are they) and sweet (as are they) and they could wear different colored t-shirts. Other teams wore dressy clothes and looked sharp, but our team was united by our theme, plus a mom sent packs of Skittles for us to eat as brain food. We were officially Team B, so while we awaited the final match, we threw up our team sign, the letter B in ASL:
.jpg) |
| Team B in da house |
And then we got served. Oak Valley had a WMD of their own, and ours just couldn't seem to launch. We got obliterated. We were disappointed, and a few feisty ones were angry because our W-L record was the same as OVMS yet we took second, and it took all of my teacher powers to scrape their spirits off the floor and send them over with sincere faces and kind words to congratulate the team that bested them fair and square. And I think that helped them find their pride again.
This year we have three returning players and a flood of new talent. I don't think anyone is on A.'s level of weird retention of every fact about everything in the known universe, but the students had so much fun at our first practice this week and expressed such a desire to take first place that Oak Valley better watch out.
I suppose part of my sponsorship is my deep angst that sports overshadows academics in this land I love. Music programs get cut, but not football. So long, Art, but football is the sacred cow. I wish brains got the same accolades that catching a ball brings, but our country largely distrusts intellectuals and dismisses them as out of touch (one reason Obama gets bashed). Yet aside from my philosophy of education, just look at their faces: they are excited about being smart! And that's reason enough.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Haiku about Hollywood & History
Lewis, Spielberg, and
John Williams--AHHH! "Lincoln"
has to be awesome!!!
(Releasing it now
seems strange...why not in April?
....January 1?
Or Veterans' Day?)
"The Alamo" was so lame,
my heart almost broke,
And so my fervent
prayer: Please, Lord, let this film,
"Lincoln," be worthy
AMEN.
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