Books, Books, Books

One of the projects I am involved in for the next week or so is going through my teaching stuff in the garage. When I moved out of third grade I boxed everything in a fairly organized manner and took only what I needed to middle school. I had always known that I would give it a year before I made any decisions about whether or not I would keep my primary teaching materials. I knew almost from the very beginning that middle school was my niche. I am not a collector and absolutely can't stand having things in storage that other people could be using. That meant it was time to sort, classify and distribute the rest of my stuff. This entails hundreds of books, primary math supplies, social studies and science units, art materials and a few grade specific things. It took up the better part of a one car garage. I am lucky enough to have people in my life who will graciously accept my hand me downs. The sorting process was the most challenging. My book piles were the following: primary books for a second year first grade teacher, books for older kids at Sutter, books my friend Paula has convinced me I will need as a someday grandma and books that are a bit out of date for the book recycler. The book sorting took a total of 6 hours spread over 3 days. I love everything about reading so there was more feeling connected to each book that I picked up than I had anticipated. I was flooded by images from my past. There were the books that I had prior to teaching and I remembered both as a child and reading to my own kids. Those are such happy memories. Some books brought images of students' faces or sometimes their book boxes because they loved it so much it was in their possession almost all year. A few put me back in the school/classroom I was in when I bought it or where I was in my teaching career. I was fascinated by the choices I made as a first year teacher compared to more recent purchases. They truly are the tracks of my teaching. Others brought back memories of entire classes transfixed as I read it aloud. I remembered the feelings I had with my first read and how they changed with successive readings. With some I recalled the flea market or garage sale where it was purchased, usually from a retiring teacher. My favorite part was to open the front cover and find a name plate from the student who had purchased it as a gift from a book fair in his/her first grade handwriting. I love children's books. I love searching for them, buying them, reading them, rereading them and even passing them along to be enjoyed by a brand new audience.

School's Out For Summer!

The beginning of summer vacation is one of the most interesting things in a teacher's life to behold. I absolutely love just being an observer of my brain and body as they both slowly decompress. By the time I woke up on Monday I was thinking of absolutely nothing. And I actually thought that as I woke up - there is nothing on my mind. Not that there wasn't anything on my mind but the kids were gone, grades were gone, and school as a thought process had disappeared. School was just a list of things that needed to be done before August. In their place were plenty of things. My summer projects, (tearing out the front yard and cleaning out the elementary school dump that also doubles as my garage), the state of the world, elections and freedom of speech in Iran, upcoming challenges (summer school and a middle school reading intervention class), my daughter's adventures in the UK, a weekend trip to Portland for my aunt's 80th birthday, my 403b, etc, etc.

I love being home. It seems to be the 50's phase of life for me. I find myself constantly thinking, "I just want to go home." And here I am, home. It is definitely all it is cracked up to be. Home is my refuge, a place of peace and solace. It is whatever I want it to be. A place to read, a place to veg out in front of the TV, a place to hang out on the deck and enjoy the flowers.

I often think that summer vacation must be like a movie trailer for retirement. You wake up and think, "What am I going to do today?" That it is - just today. There is no tomorrow or next week or next month or the end of the quarter or next year. Just today. I love that. I can definitely handle fulfilling expectations for 24 hours. Tomorrow will just have to take care of itself.

I know that as the next 10 days pass, my thoughts will slowly morph into summer school mode but for now I love this feeling of nothingness.

A Sixth Grade Student's Reflections

I have had a blast in sixth grade! I met new people, had great teachers, and learned many things! There have been so many new experiences that I never thought I'd get to have. I loved all our field trips and our special Shark assemblies. This essay is about some of my most memorable experiences in the sixth grade.

First, I have made many new friends. Boys and girls i never thought I'd be friends with. Some from different schools and some from the school where I spent K-5th grade. I have grown closer to people I have known since kindergarten. They turned out to be trustworthy and really funny. The new friends I have made are so different, yet we seem to share the same interests. I look forward to getting to know them better in the next two years.

Next are my wonderful teachers. I never thought I could get so lucky to have very nice teachers who don't make me cry. I can't tell you how many times I have cried because of a teacher. So many times. This year I was really happy and I would laugh in every class because of the teachers. If I had a problem that I needed help with, my teachers were never too busy to help. I worked really hard at getting good grades and my teachers made me believe I could do it. Thank you, Mr.________, Mrs. _______, and Ms. _____!

Now for the field trips. My favorite field trip in the sixth grade was when we went to the The Tech Museum. I loved seeing the IMAX movie about the coral reef. That was really fascinating. The field trip was made even more special by the fact that my sister, ______, was home from college on spring break and she got to chaperone. I also loved the trip to the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco. I love that we could take pictures of the art. I got a lot of good pictures. my mom got to take the day off from work and come along.

Finally, the Shark assemblies. I think that it was really kind of all the teachers to take time off from their schedules to give awards to their students for the things they thought we did well. I was really surprised when I got the award for being super efficient. I have put in on the mantle so everyone can see it. I was really proud of myself that day and I thank all the teachers again.

So, all in all, I have had a really great year. I will miss all my of my teachers and all of the great times I have had in sixth grade. I hope I can at least be a TA for one of my sixth grade teachers next year. I will always remember this year and try to visit my old teachers a lot.

The Impact of a Life

Sometimes I wish I knew where I was in the "normal" range. For the most part I think I'm a pretty average person in the way I react to life's little road bumps. But I have the feeling that my response to death may be a little off, especially ones that take me by surprise. I can take in stride when people I have loved, died after a long illness or have lived a full life. I miss them terribly but there is always a place I can file it intellectually. It makes sense. Brian Hegarty dieing at age 35 for no apparent cause does not make sense and that thought is stuck in my head. It rewinds over and over again. Young people dieing doesn't make sense. When things don't make sense to me, I can't seem to let them go. Perhaps I'm a little OCD. My thoughts between last Monday and today have gone from physical to metaphysical questions and I am finally in utter confusion.

Brian was an amazing teacher with a great love for life. He was the guy you would love for your daughter to marry. If I had had another one, I definitely would have put them in the same room together just to see what would happen. He was well grounded and smart and charming and spiritual all rolled into one amazing package. He was literally at the prime of his professional life. He loved teaching and always wanted to get better at it and he did. Within two months time he would have taken over the reigns as principal of an elementary school. If anyone could have been successful at going from teacher to principal in the same school, it would have been him. And now, they tell me he is gone. How does that happen? How do you go from being alive and vibrant and everything that he was to dead? All my questions begin with "did he know?" Did he know he was dieing? Did he know his life would be so short? Did he know how deeply he was loved? Did he know what an impact he had had on so many lives? And this is where my thinking takes a detour. What is it that any of us knows about the force we are in the world. As teachers, we are aware of the role we play in the lives of our students, both positive and negative. But I'm talking about the impact we leave by just living human lives in realationship with other humans. Everything we do and say can and does effect the world in ways we can never anticipate. Observing the depth of the community's response to Brian's death leads us all to realize the importance of every moment we live. Our life may end up being much shorter than we anticipate. We might not get a tomorrow to make that phone call or meet for dinner. It is the reminder of the unpredictabily of what is to come. We are on a journy with an unknown destination as well as an unknown timeframe. There is no other way to live it than in this moment. Now we can't exactly go around telling everyone at every moment of our existence what a difference they have made in our lives but I know we can do better. I, for one can start putting the people I love way ahead of anything else. Here is the first of many acts that will be Brian Hegarty's legacy lived out in my life. This week I booked a ticket to go to my aunt's 80th birthday party. My initial response to the invitation was one of those "too bad" moments. But Brian's death makes you reconsider that whole "too bad" reaction. Worry about money or the fact that the next day is the first day of summer school cannot compare to the moments that will be spent with my family and friends. Too bad? How about flipping that on its head and living life with all the events that are too good, too good to miss?

Thank you, Brian for all that you gave to the world in the short time you were with us. You will be desperately missed by everyone you touched. Your love lives on in each of us in new and glorious ways that none of us ever anticipated. I am so lucky to have crossed your path on this wild and wonderful journey of life.

Catching Up

It has been a while since I have posted. The last word from me was the pain of Shingles. I don't withdraw from life very often but that one almost took me out. I really don't know how I got through the work day but I would come home as quickly after school as possible and put in my couch time. It became the most important thing I did all day. Suddenly this Monday I woke up feeling significantly better. I have no explanation, only gratitude. Every day gets better and better. Maybe soon I'll try wearing a skirt or pants with a waistband again. But I must say my students have certainly enjoyed seeing me in dresses. I suppose it has been an interesting way to end the year:) Changes in fashion is extremely important to the middle world.

In other news there has been a dramatic shift in the behavior of the "the boy who would not be name." Once again I have no explanation, only gratitude. Things definitely got worse before they got better. I am only thankful that we are all ending on a positive note. My favorite part of the whole thing is how well he is able to verbalize it. "It feels a lot better when I don't get in trouble." I have been stunned by how "cute" he seems to me now that he is smiling and doing what students do. Perception is everything.

Along with ending the year I am also gearing up for summer school. I'll be teaching incoming 6th graders beginning June 29th - a mere two weeks after I say good-bye to my current 6th graders. All my couch time gave me lots of time to think and plan. I am quite pleased with my developing Language Arts unit. It will be interesting to see how my imaginary lessons really turn out. I love the planning part of my job but am often surprised by the way it turns out in real life.

Yesterday I received some extremely sad news. A teacher I taught with many years ago did not show up to work. The police were called and he was found dead in his apartment. I was absolutely stunned into utter silence. He was only 35 years old and an extremely gifted teacher. He had worked his way up the ranks and had just been selected principal for the upcoming school year. I am still in shock and feel such an emptiness. Sometimes life is so fleeting. You look up and the ones we once loved are gone. It is that on-going reminder to live in the moment. Say what you want to say today. Tomorrow you may only be able to say good-bye.

So now I turn my head and heart toward the end of the school year. It is with excitement as well as a touch of sadness. I am excited to see how it all goes in middle school. Do they hug and cry on the last day or shout for joy? There are definitely many kids in this class that I will miss. I have been so lucky to start off with such a good group of students. And like always, I know that I have learned more from them than they did from me.

Shingles is a Pain!

I have somehow managed to contract Shingles. Over the years I have heard of older people with Shingles and I knew it wasn't good and that it was somehow related to chicken pox. I now know more than I ever wanted to know about the disease. Shingles is extremely painful and because it is located in the nerves of the skin many things can effect it; moving air, fabric that touches it, or a change in body position that forces the skin to move. My greatest challenge is clothing. Because the outbreak is centered around my waist anything with a regular waistband is out of the question as are any stretch knits. I stumbled upon wearing my Lycra pants over the weekend because they sit more on my hips and the fabric stays in one spot. I have four separate clusters of blisters. Sometimes just one of them is in pain and sometimes all 4. It could be a movement I have made or for no reason at all a wave of pain just rolls through. It might hang around for a couple minutes or much much longer. I move very slowly when changing position from sitting to walking or vice versa. Then there are other times that I feel just fine and have no pain whatsoever. I've never been one for surprises and surprise pain is the worst. I guess the thing that bothers me the most about this whole ordeal is that the onset is caused by stress or a compromised immune system. I know the latter is not the case and to tell you the truth, there have been other times this year that I have felt a lot more stressed than I have the past couple weeks. Like when I'm sitting at lunch and suddenly realize that grades have to be closed out at 3:00; that's stressful. As I have gone back through my mind I really couldn't come up with any time that I had felt out of control stresswise. Perhaps that means I am totally out of touch with my body or maybe it's just the culmination of all the new experiences this year. Whatever it is, I hope it passes quickly and that it never happens again. The positive side is that I am learning to rest. I have learned that the couch is very nice place to be.

Pondering the Brain

My fascination with the brain began with my master's program at Santa Clara University. At the time I was in my 4th year of teaching and third year in 1st grade. It is what precipitated the change from an Interdisciplinary degree to Special Education. I was fascinated by all the things that had to happen in nanosecond synchronization for a 6 year old child to learn the process of reading. I left the program much more amazed by the percentage of students who could read than by the ones who couldn't. My fascination with the brain has continued and become more complex. Metacognition is one of my great loves of teaching. How do we know that we know and when am I actually aware of the process? Last year I had a student with Affective Disorder and I started reading everything I could find on the frontal lobe which may or may not develop as the child matures. It turns out, that little thing is pretty important in making decisions with consequences in mind. My current focus is on the role the brain plays in emotions. I have a dear friend who has recently undergone a temporary shift in his perception of reality. In my mind it all seems to be based in the way we react to the events of our lives. I've known plenty of people who can endure amazing incidents and seem to pass through them unscathed. And there are many others who worry everything to death and can become overly anxious about daily routine events. This leads my thinking to two important variables; our individual histories and systems we have in place to deal with the challenges of our lives. There are people who have had unbelievably painful childhoods - abuse, neglect, forced labor - and yet there are those who come out of it completely intact and appear to be able to redefine themselves in the world. They turn their backs on the who they were and become the person they create in their mind. Is that really possible or at some point are we forced to face our past and deal with it head on? For each of us, the moment may come when we suffer a breaking point and it all comes crashing down around us - the death of a child, divorce, poverty. Where is the breaking point for each individual? The way we process these incidents in our brain is assisted by the social network we use to support ourselves. I have a friend who processes almost any challenging decision externally. It took me a long time to understand that when she said she was going to do "X" and ended up doing "Y" it was because she had to say it out loud to comprehend all the possible consequences to each option. I am definitely an internal processor. I have long drawn out conversations with me, myself and I before I make a move. My divorce from break in trust to final decree took more than 7 years. I shared this with very few people so the end result was that many were totally shocked. I daydreamed single life scenarios constantly. They of course are nothing like the real thing but I had to be certain that I was willing to endure every possible consequence before I could follow through with my decision. This is the way I process decisions in my life. I share very little with my friends and I can't really explain a reason for this. It is only in the past couple years that I have had the courage to actually pick up the phone and ask for help. Perhaps it's related to my need to be right (definitely an Allen thing) so when I say the words, "I'm thinking about...." I feel like I need to defend my position and prove to whoever I'm talking to why this is the right thing for me to do. This is exactly what happened with my decision to make the move to middle school. There were very few people who I would say supported me in this endeavor. For some reason most of the people who I told saw their role as being the voice that had to make me realize what a mistake I was making. That is not support if you ask me. The first question was totally predictable, "Didn't I know how obnoxious middle school kids were?" I tried hard to make these people understand my personality is one that craves change, needs it to grow and learn. But it was pointless and a waste of my energy. Perhaps I just don't have the right circle of friends around me. One thing I know is that I never want to break with this reality and suffer the loss of the relationships that matter most to me - my parents, my family, my children, the friends who build me up and create the bridge from challenge to achievement, from crisis back to being in balance. In order to manage this, I have to have the courage to open up and know that a true friend will accept me for who I am. Yes, they may have other suggestions but I won't be judged because of the choice I make. It is simply an issue of trust. I am definitely a work in process.

Final Field Trip

Our final field trip is now history. Our team of students went to the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco to make some much needed connections to ancient Indian and Chinese history. Neither of these units were a shiny star in my teaching achievements. I knew very little about either country and it showed. This field trip was not an easy one to accomplish on many levels but now that it is all part of the past, I can look back on it and think happy thoughts. The students present had a wonderful time. It is always the little things that take me by surprise on trips like this. The thrill they have in boarding a big yellow school bus, the joy that is apparent in just leaving school while everyone else toils away, the excitement of riding through Santa Clara, Sunnyvale, Palo Alto and to keep going. I love the little comments that are overheard "I've never been to San Francisco on a field trip", "Is that the beach?" Sixth graders are just still so cute. Our gallery time was set for 11:00-1:00. That meant a very early lunch. We headed across the street to the Civic Center park for a little play time. I noticed the very young equipment and thought, "Oh well, we can just sit around and chat." Was I ever surprised when they lined up behind the baby swings to take their turns swinging and pushing one another. They went down the tiny little slides and clamored together to jump up and down on the bridge. I guess these kids just have not had enough time to play. We had our lunch and headed into the museum. There was lots to see and my group kept grasping onto key words that they had heard before: Chandra Gupta, Vishnu, Pure Land Buddhism. Maybe I wasn't an awful teacher after all. I loved this place because it had all the swords, daggers, and samurai soldiers for the boys and beautiful kimonos and gilded statues for the girls. We gathered together to head back to school with no one missing. Success! The kids were a little more alert on the bus this time around. There were lots of guessing games being played - I'm thinking of a number between 1.4 and 2.4, kids who were fascinated by waving at other drivers just to see if they would wave back and tons of interesting conversations to overhear. I only snatched one cell phone. We arrived back at school for the entire 6th period of PE. So we all headed out with our balls and frisbees and decompressed. I only had to remind them once that there was NO DODGE BALL. Actually, in my heart of hearts, I would give almost anything to give in on that one before the year is over. So, yes this final field trip was a great success. There is just nothing like putting kids out into the real world and watching them figure it all out. So despite all the hurdles in putting this one together, we all came out of it a little wiser.

A New Crop of Teachers

It was my pleasure to attend the convocation of my student teacher from last year today. I have to say that I was pretty amazed to see the number of graduates fill all of those chairs that were set aside. If that isn't the embodiment of hope, I don't know what is. Almost 200 people in just one university are choosing to dedicate their lives to the children of our valley. The pay isn't great and the hours are horrendous. It must be love.

The dean of the department talked about the number of lives the newly credentialed teachers will effect in just their first year. One of of these days I'll have to sit down and do the math of how many students I have taught to date. I'm sure it will be a shocking number and will stun me into once again checking my smart mouth at the door.

I was struck by something else while I was there witnessing this celebration. It was the look of pure happiness on each and every face. This was not a room full of traditional 23 year olds who had the feeling of finally finishing their college careers and were now ready to live their lives. There were many 2nd and 3rd career destined graduates in the group but the look remained the same. It was a glow that transcended anything physical and had to come from deep inside the heart. It was the look of unadulterated hopefullnes, the belief in the the future and the knowledge that whatever life had in store would be the answer to their prayers. Teachers do what they do for tomorrow not today. It is the same trust of a garderner who plants seeds and sends forth the hope of what could be. These graduates clearly believe that this profession which has its big toe in tomorrow is what they have dreamed of for so long. It is so refreshing to see that the dream is still alive.

Its Just A Number

I took part in a lovely little walk in the park this weekend. The weather was perfect and it was a very enjoyable outing with the staff of our middle school. I was given a number to wear just as you would be in any other organized walk/run. But we quickly noticed that these were just a little different. This group had decided to include the runner's age. I am not a person who focuses on her age so I looked down and quickly attempted to do the math. Things didn't add up. I just kept looking at the number. 64? Huh? Clearly there was a mistake but the number stuck in my head. I couldn't seem to let it go. Wow! I look pretty good for 64! Then I started thinking about me at the real 64. What would I look like, would I still be registering for 5 and 10K walks? I could only go there if I thought about the me 10 years in the past. As I thought back it all came screeching into my memory. That was not a good year. At this point in the year, I would have been separated for 8 months, in the process of selling the house and preparing for a move to Texas to put myself back together again. I've come a long way since then. Who knows what lies in store for me in the next 10 years? Yes, my age is just a number but 64 sounds a lot older than 54. It is good that we just take them one year at a time.

Sometimes There is Just No Good Solution

There was another meeting today to plan for the student who my partner teacher has renamed "he who will not be named" just because it becomes exhausting to talk about him ad nauseam. We both have done quite well at keeping things in perspective the past couple weeks. He is given what he needs to make choices about his day and the other students get the best of what we have to offer. But the question still remains, "What now?" What is the plan for the remainder of the year, summer school and placement for next year. I walked out today with the feeling that there is just no good ending here. Retention will do nothing for a change in his attitude. Moving on to 7th grade will simply be more of the same. The other possibilities are that his parents will move him to another school - that would make #7, he'll turn to the dark side or he'll stop coming to school. None of these accomplish our goal. The piece I just can't let go of is that he was told he would not go on to 7th grade unless he turned it around. How does a promotion get communicated to him without him thinking that he has accomplished what he set out to do - absolutely nothing. My words mean everything to me. I don't speak any that I don't mean. I am only grateful that I didn't put the original deal on the table all those months ago.

Yes, middle school is really different. There just aren't many options available to kids who choose not to come to the table. There is no placement other than the regular program until after 8th grade. So the only choice is to fail, go to summer school, fail there and then fail again next year. I'm still not sure about this but it feels like one of those times that I just need to let it go.

I'm Probably a Cynic

It is save for me to now openly express my feelings about Swine Flu. Tonight I heard that schools will be reopening tomorrow because they have discovered that's it not quite the contagious disease they thought it was. Anyone who chatted with me about this topic in the last few days already knows that I did not take it seriously. Quite the opposite. In my classroom you could even hear me blessing students after a sneeze with "swine flu" in place of "bless you."' I like to think that I am slightly irreverent but it is probably closer to cynical. It is rare that I worry too much about government warnings when they begin with solutions like cover your mouth and wash your hands. Don't get me wrong. Having the flu is a terrible thing even though I could probably count on one hand the times I have had it. I only remember 2 of them - one when I was a small child and the other when I was pregnant with Dave. I have always been blessed with good health. I am sorry for anyone who has suffered from Swine Flu and especially for those who have lost family members. But here's the deal; people have been dieing from the flu for thousands of years. And the solution is covering your sneezes and washing your hands. The funniest thing that happened in regards to this was yesterday on our field trip via VTA to Flint Center. As we were preparing to leave one of my students ran up to me and shouted, "Ms. Allen, I forgot my Purell. My mom said to be sure and take it with me today. Can I go to my locker?" Then the rest of the morning I couldn't help but notice how many kids pulled their sleeves down over their hands as they held on to the poles on the bus or railings in the auditorium. I just find things like this humorous. I suppose that really does make me a bit of a cynic.

Public Transportation

I just have to say that I love public transportation. This morning we went on a field trip to Flint Center; it was the second time we have used VTA buses this year. The driving part of field trips has always put me over the edge. I love being there, I just hate the journey. I always worried about parent drivers and I must admit that I had a couple weird experiences in my early years where parents stopped and bought treats for their carload of kids; a few have gotten lost. It just is a lot of worry. When I got to Sutter and discovered the beauty of school buses my worries were over. I loved being on the bus where I could see every single kid. Yes, I know; I have control issues. I have used VTA a couple times over the years but VTA with primary and VTA with middle school is a whole different thing. One of my favorite parts is when you get on the bus with your 30+ kids and you watch every one's face sort of fall in disbelief from the bus driver all the way back to the person sitting in the very last seat. I kind of feel sorry for them losing their peaceful ride to school or work or home but on the other hand, it is good to spread our adolescent energy around. By the end of the ride, everyone is smiling.

A Day Without the News

I am a news junkie. On a normal day I watch it at least twice a day. I read my articles of choice on the San Jose Mercury News website. I get Yahoo Alerts sent to my e-mail just so I can keep up on any big surprises of the day. I love listening to people talk about events of our times and ponder how it will be recorded in the history books. Lately it has become rather mundane. All I hear is the economy is bad, the economy is going to remain bad for several years and tips on how to keep from foreclosing on my house. And then Swine Flu reared its ugly head. Now we can leave feel bad about the economy behind and shoot right into fear mongering. Yes, I know; swine flu is not passed from uncooked pork. I know how to cover my mouth and nose when I cough or sneeze and I'm really good at washing my hands. I guess I hit overload this week when from the moment I turned the TV on in the morning until I headed out the door to work it was reports on swine flu, Obama's first 100 days, swine flu, Wolverine, and a final report on swine flu. Now mind you, these reports were not all exactly the same. The first one was an interview with a doctor who said that 60% of the people that came to his hospital to be tested were negative so don't come unless you're really sick. The next one was a reporter saying that almost half of the people who showed up tested positive. And the last one gave symptoms of swine flu and suggested to the audience that if you think you have it, please get tested. Huh? So yesterday I made a conscious choice to live a day without the news. And guess what. This morning I woke up feeling just fine about my world. Yeah, I'm sure a few people died yesterday and maybe one or two of them even died from Swine Flu. But I didn't have to look at the news anchors' worried faces on my TV screen and listen to those trigger words: pandemic, outbreak, crisis, panic. The world is a fine place. There will always be wonderful and terrible things happening to us as humans. Unfortunately the news only focuses on the negative side. It is up to us to balance it out with the positive. The sun is shining, flowers are blooming, I have food, water, shelter and wonderful friends and family to support me and lead me forward. A day without the news is a very healthy thing to do every now and then.

Learning About Me

It is abundantly clear that I have been challenged this year. It has pervaded every aspect of my life. I never dreamed that this jump would have such lasting effects. I am not complaining. I still love middle school. I love the whole notion that I never know exactly what's going to happen in the course of a day. Elementary school was just too predictable for a girl like me. I was in charge and there wasn't much that a 6 or 7 year old kid could do to detract me from my mission of the day. But middle school is another story. They walk in the door and the looks on their faces make it very clear what they can or cannot handle in the next 5 minutes. I am figuring out how to "read" them before I even say hello. I am learning a lot from kids. I'm not only learning about them but also about me. How far will I go to get a kid to smile. Yesterday I actually danced in my classroom for the first time ever. I am not a dancer and usually refuse when asked. It just isn't my forte. But STAR testing was over so why not sing and dance? And yes, they smiled, they laughed and they walked out of the room happy. What could be better than 28 happy kids post-STAR.

This thinking has brought me to the realization of how much I learn about myself through my students. Not the good ones who do the work and are proud of their accomplishments, I'm talking about the ones who are outside the circle. The ones who refuse to go along with the status quot, They challenge me to think deeply about my practice and question what I believe about teaching and my role in the classroom.

I have learned something new about myself every single year of my career because of the kids I teach. I am a reflective teacher and that's when the learning begins. How would I know how strongly I feel about learning without the kids who refuse to do it? When I am frustrated and can't get rid of it I have no alternative but to start thinking about it from the inside out. From those more interesting kids I have learned that I don't like furniture thrown at me or even pencils, for that matter. That's when I call for help and admit that I might not be the best placement for this student. I have also learned that I cannot run after one student and leave the other 19 behind. Sometimes sacrifices must be made. I have figured out that my teaching, despite its importance, isn't always what my students need. There are times that a kid just needs to tear up newspaper or pound clay rather than learn the finer points of the states of matter. Softening the heart comes before expanding the brain. I also know that I don't like being yelled at by students or even their parents. Pointing and shaking fingers are out too. I know that physical violence has no place in the home or classroom. That's why we have police. These more challenging kids are all about drawing a line in the sand for me. They are the difference between philosophy and practice. Yes, I believe that every child can learn but I also know that sometimes there is a huge obstacle that must be removed before it can happen. That might be an alcoholic or abusive parent. It could be a learning disability as a result of a pregnant mother on drugs. Maybe it's the fact that a child's parents are in jail and s/he's being raised by grandparents. There are all kinds of things that can get in the way of learning. It is my job to figure out what's in the way and move it aside. The middle school obstacles are many and some are even a bit humorous - what I'm wearing, how I fixed my hair, my locker is jammed, I feel fat. The increase in obstacles has taught me that much more about myself. My strict/lenient line is definitely flexible depending on the curriculum, activity and whether or not there was a fight at lunch. Things learned in partner and group activities go way beyond standards. Kids need to have the opportunity to learn from one another in the same way that we do. I am lucky enough to have an amazing partner and I learn from her every single day. Chatter in the classroom is not always bad. Talking is how we learn about each other as well as ourselves. Teaching something new everyday has shown me that there is an easy and hard way to do almost anything in life. It's worth putting the time in to find the easy way instead of fighting the hard one. My dad's adage of "Find a bigger hammer," doesn't always work for me anymore. I've also learned that lesson plans or modifications can come from anywhere - dreams, hikes through the woods, chats with friends. I just accept them as gifts from the universe and give thanks.

But the biggest lesson I have learned this year is that we must all be allowed to make our choices and experience the result. It is the only way we can know who we are and who we want to become. Failing a test or a quarter or believing I have failed a kid is simply a moment in time. It doesn't define us as a failure. Every day we are faced with hundreds of decisions that all go together to create a definition of me in this moment. The beauty of it is that they can all be different tomorrow. The person I am is constantly changing as a result of experiences I have. I am a student of the world. I am learning to welcome the lessons that challenge my view of the world without digging my heels in and fighting back. Those are the times when I realize that I might not be who I think I am. Educational theory tells us it is at the moment of dissonance that learning actually begins. The moment that I verbalize, "That's different than what I thought," is when my brain and heart can open up to the possible.

What a Difference a Week Makes

A week ago I was so deep inside my thoughts and reflections I could barely see the sun. I was questioning everything - who am I, who am I as a teacher, who am I as a mother. It was endless. And all because of a student who I believed I had failed. After a couple days of sadness and a daughter who was able to shine a flicker of light inside my very opinionated brain, I started to get it. It wasn't me who failed and it wasn't even about success or failure. I was once again trying to change another person's journey just so it would fit the movie in my head. When am I going to learn that I'm not in charge? So this week I started with a new attitude. It was time to go back to class.. I needed to start watching and learning about HIS journey. What I saw and heard was about the who of this kid, It wasn't about what I wanted him to accomplish or finish or learn. It was about who he is. He comes to school for fun. It's where his friends are. The work is overwhelming so he always comes back to the fun. He is smart and a fast talker. He has always been able to get what he wanted out of school. He has dreams as well as short and long term goals. He wants to be a TA next year. He wants to go to college. He wants to be a lawyer. The fly in the works is that there is no bridge between his view of school today and the lawyer of tomorrow. This week I am finally able to let it go and just start finding ways to bring him inside the circle of learners. I started seeing and relating to him as who he is instead of who I wanted him to be. It's not about my classes, what I teach or the assignments that are left incomplete. It's about him and his view of school. I'm planting a seed and I pray to God that someone else will come along and throw some dirt on it. And then maybe someone else with show up with some water. Then someday, someday that little seed will start to sprout and he'll build the bridge to his tomorrow. He'll know that he is smart and capable and start putting the time in to make those goals his reality. I am still sad that I will not be the one to make the difference in his academic journey but I have to remember that it is HIS journey. Ms. Allen was just a stop along the way.

The Mystery of My Life

The word for today is mystified. There have been more than a few times in my life where a huge obstacle is put in the way of what I perceive to be my path and it changes me forever. I could just be humming along my merry way when, BOOM, the rug is pulled out from under me. I tend to be one of those people who does most of her processing internally so the next thing that happens is that I think and ponder and question and in all honesty obsess about what has just happened and the purpose it has for my life. Then within a very short time it becomes abundantly clear why it has happened and all is made clear. Usually I am way off base on the why of it or the purpose it serves for the future of my life.

I was raised as a Presbyterian, whose strongest tenet is the belief in predestination. The questioning years of my adolescence was the beginning of the break for me with this religious idea. Why would God plan out my life and then sit back and watch it happen as if it was a movie whose script you yourself had written? Of course there is always free will and with someone like me that would certainly shake things up a bit. My recent years have had a stong focus on questioning. What do I want to do, why, who are the people that have the ability to lead me forward, how and with whom do I want to spend my time, what is the quality of life that matches my beliefs about the world? I work hard to be sure that the answers to these questions are the guiding force in decisions I make. Up until this year I had a pretty solid definition of my beliefs about who I am as a teacher. It had been tweaked a few times along the way but for the most part I "knew" that I could reach on some level every kid who ever walked into my room. All that came crashing down on this year. I spent all of Friday and most of Saturday realigning my thinking and redefining who I am as a teacher.

Last night Maria and I saw Jeannette Walls, the author of Glass Castles. This book was one of the most difficult memoirs I've ever read. At the end of every chapter I told myself, "It's OK, I know she lived through this horrendous childhood because she grew up to write this book." So here was this amazing woman standing before the audience telling her story and what she has learned. Her rate and expressiveness of speech was something to behold. She bears no grudges whatsoever against her parents nor the experiences she endured. They all came together to create her view of the world and the end result is that she sees similarities in people and their expereinces as opposed to the differences. The bulk of everything she said spoke directly to my heart about who I am as a teacher. She has achieved everything, everything, she has because of those experiences. No one came along and plucked her up to save her. That was up to her. She had to become a survivor because of the challenges she faced. She was the one that to stand up and fight for herself.

Driving out of the parking lot it all hit me like a ton of bricks. It had happened again. An obstacle had appeared in my path, I had thought and thought and thought about it and now it had been made clear. The question for me became do I have the ability to take events and apply them to what I need to figure out in my life or are those events put in my life to clear up my muddy waters? I believe the latter is true because it has happened so often. Given that belief, how did the universe/God know I was going to need this on April 25 at 8:00 PM. Why did a teacher at Sutter put that book in my hands, why did Maria's book club decide to read it, why did Maria tell me about Jeannette Walls speaking at the Marin Center and how did I come to accept her invitation? The series of events that had to happen for me to be sitting in that seat and accepting what I needed to hear at exactly that moment is overwhelming.

Yes, I am just a bit mystified.

The Wall

Before I even begin this post I have to give thanks once again for my wonderful daughter and son-in-law who have the greatest knack for helping me figure things out on this journey of life. I am definitely the youngest soul among the three of us.

I hit a big fat immovable wall today. Some of it is student related but most of it is me. We have a very challenging student who really has very little interest in the school world. My partner teacher and I have worked hard in the area of motivation throughout the year and mostly to no avail. Time is getting short and there just aren't many days left for a turn around. Today was my day where for the first time I had the notion of utter hopelessness. I am not a teacher who has EVER given up on a kid and I've had some pretty interesting ones in my 19 years. But I guess I'm preparing myself to throw in the towel. This is extremely difficult. #1, it just isn't in me and #2 with my experience in elementary school it simply wasn't possible. How do you give up on a kid when s/he is sitting there all day long and there's only 20 kids in the room? I never had a student I couldn't reach in some way or another so I truly believed that they were all savable. As an elementary teacher, most of them do want to please you so that is a huge step in the right direction. But even those whose relationship with you could wane from time to time, there was always some way to rope them in.

Middle School is different, very different. For one thing the ones that are failing have been failing for a very long time. They have gotten the message loud and clear so it's a pretty fast moving car to try and turn around. We, in middle school, truly are the crossing point for kids who make a decision about the role that school will play in their lives for the next few years. One of the things I realized tonight was that it was one thing for me to teach a 1st or 2nd grader who would one day drop out but it is quite another thing for me to realize that I could be the last stop on the journey. Could a kid walk out of my classroom at the end of the year and never step foot into another one? That is a heavy load for me to carry. Every day is one more step either toward or away from school. Up until today I truly thought I had the power to change any kid that came my way. It turns out that laughter and love are not always enough. My daughter is right. I can set the expectations and offer assistance but I can't do the work for him. He has to want it for himself on some level. Without the internal desire, there is nothing that can be achieved.

For 19 years I have been defining my role as a teacher as that of coach, leader, cajoler, motivator, mom, you name it; anything that would get the job done. Of course I had my share of those kids that would challenge me and the toolbox of teaching strategies I carried around. But I always felt like I had achieved at least some success with every kid that came my way. It is time to change the tape that plays in my head. If someone doesn't want to learn, there is really nothing that I can do to make it happen. At this age, choices are being made. I have to remember that there are all sorts of forks in the road on the journey of a lifetime. Who am I to say that the only way to the finish line is through a diploma at age 18? People who have taken the long way bring all sorts of other gifts that they could never receive without the additional stops along the way. This ah ha has brought me just a touch of peace. I know that I am not the teacher that will ever draw the line in the stand and walk away from a kid but I can make clear my expectations and what I, as his teacher can do to assist him in his search for knowledge. Learning takes 2 people working together to achieve the goal. I can't do it alone.

Earth Day

It isn't often that we are in school on Earth Day because of our regularly scheduled district spring break so I was quite happy to be able to incorporate a little of the real world into my writing class this week. We began with a discussion of Earth Day - what it is, why we celebrate it, where it came from. Of course all that was very humorous especially when my young academics discovered that I was a mere 15 years of age on the first Earth Day. I don't recall it being a very big deal in the heartland of America but as the years have passed I have grown to love it. It's just nice to take a day and recommit myself to the prolongation of our beautiful planet. As a first, second and third grade teacher I always tried to find a way to celebrate Earth Day with a combination of activities that increased students' knowledge of the planet along with a feeling of enjoyment such as sharing a cup of "dirt" along with a few gummi worms. We might paint the blue planet, make posters to remind ourselves of ways to respect our planet, take a tour of a recycling plant or pick up trash around the school grounds. So my expectation for 6th grade was pretty high. I figured they had had at least 6 years of these activities along with exposure to countless public service announcements to build a level of knowledge about numerous strategies to save the planet. I quickly learned that they knew the phrase Reduce, Reuse, Recycle but their written explanations to differentiate between the three processes were pretty vague. Most of them thought that using a water bottle over again was the perfect example of recycling. When pressed about the difference between recycling and reusing I got that funny look that only a 6th grader can make with absolute precision accompanied by a deep resonating "Huh?" So today I gave them my quick but complete explanation of how a plastic bottle goes from the bin they put in front of their house on Wednesday or Thursday mornings to reappearing on the Safeway shelf filled with their favorite sweet drink of choice. As I got to the conclusion of this little saga, a few heads started nodding slowly in that "Oh yeah. I remember hearing this before" rhythm. As we continued the discussion, it became a little easier for them to now grasp the difference between reusing a plastic bottle and repurchasing one that has been here before. Mission accomplished!

This has probably been my most fascinating observation of the move from 3rd to 6th grade. I am constantly caught off guard because I assume a certain level of knowledge based solely on them being in the world for 11 or 12 years. I introduce a topic believing that this is probably the hundredth time that they have heard it and must surely know what I'm talking about but quickly realize that the deafening silence in the room proves to me that once again I am all alone. I readjust my delivery and with only a stumble or two am back on track. I came to middle school thinking I'd be challenged by the ability level and at times that little dream has come true. But for the most part I am reminded that my big 6th graders are still young kids and have lots to learn about this big beautiful world.

Finding What You Need

There has been something big missing from my life over the past many months. One of the things that I know about myself is that I find my spirit in wide open spaces. Hiking is a necessity for me. It is my church, my refuge, my sanctuary. It changes me. I need to be out in the woods to feel better about the world. In looking back over my calendar this school year, it is a missing item. Some things have taken its place - breakfast or lunch with friends, Sunday walks in the park and, sad to say, lesson plans. I am taking a stand here and now. No more weekend lesson plans! I need to get back to nature.

Today I found myself at Edgewood County Park to enjoy the wildflowers. This is an annual trek for me and it usually happens during spring break. There are lots of places where you can see poppies and larkspurs and violets but Edgewood is always a sure bet. It did not disappoint today.

The funny thing about hiking is the minute my foot hits the trail I am changed. Feeling dirt under my feet instantly sends a jolt of energy throughout my body and relaxation to my brain. All thinking about school, house, money or any other senseless worry is instantly removed from my thought processes. What takes its place is simple awe of the beauty around me - the endless deep blue sky, textures of rock formations, hills and valleys that lead my feet ever forward anxiously seeking what is around the next bend. If only I could live my day to day life with that curiosity and wonder. The amazing combinations of colors of wild flowers is such a sight to behold. The yellow and purple floral blankets that are created by viewing them from a distance are almost as beautiful as the close up of the individual blossom. It's that reminder not to forget to keep in balance the wide view as well as the zoom perspective of our existence. There is beauty in both.

Today I was also entertained by the people I encountered on the trail. Each group has its own identity and leaves its print on you whether its a connection to a memory of the past or something you've never encountered before and you just say hmm.... as it passes by. The trail runners can be friendly and courteous as you make room for them or they may not even know you were ever there. The family groups are fascinating. I saw a mom telling her kid that in only 5 more minutes the "hard" part would be over. The child simply stopped in the middle of the trail, glancing at an overhanging limb covered with moss and said "What a cool tree!' We are so busy getting kids through the hard parts that we miss what is here in front of us in this moment. Then there was the family who was hiking along and the 7 or 8 year old boy had lagged behind and was off the trail inadvertently crushing plants as he attempted to walk as slow as is humanly possible. I think I've seen that boy somewhere before. He was sending a message loud and clear and Mom just said, "Hurry up Andrew!" But my favorites of the day were 2 separate couples one a dad and grown daughter and the other a husband and wife. In the first case the dad wanted to know if there were open fields up wildflowers up ahead. I reassured him that, yes indeed, there were while the daughter tried to avoid the uphill trek by telling him that "This was fine. I don't need to see anymore." The final scenario was the wife asking me "Is it up ahead?" to which the husband in his drippiest voice said, "What do you mean IT? This is it." I chatted with them for a moment about the importance of the journey but I don't think she was buying it.

I am grateful to live here in this amazing place filled with so many hiking opportunities. As our California fees and taxes escalate I am reminded of the reason I will never leave. I can't imagine my life with out the things we are given at no expense - sunshine, blue skies, the myriad of shades of green held in distant hillsides, golden poppies and the dirt beneath my feet.

Another List

Things I Love About My Car

First and foremost, it is red, my favorite color. I don't really remember how long I have wanted a red car but I know that it was pre-teaching the kids to drive. And that was a very long time ago. Somehow I was convinced that a driver in a red car would get more tickets. But in all fairness, that was also back in my "speeding" days. When I look at it sitting in my driveway, I still have to remind myself that it belongs to me.

I got everything I wanted. Translation: It has a sunroof.

It's smaller than an SUV and bigger than a Jetta. Goldilocks and I agree that this one is just right. It is still big enough to hold my camping stuff and I can load my bike in the trunk and the fold-down backseats.

I am driving back on the ground again. There is no step up just to get inside my car. While the view from there was good, it was a little unwieldy getting things in and out of the car in one motion. I'm all about efficiency.

The controls are in exactly the same place at the RAV4 so I don't have to learn anything new.

The auxiliary input makes it possible, not only to listen to my ipod but more importantly, I can take Pandora Radio with me everywhere.

It is easy to find in the parking lot. That red just seems to shout at me, "Here I am!"

It is the reminder that I am through moving. No big car will mean renting a truck the next time I get a hare-brained idea to change jobs or towns. That will definitely slow me down long enough to think things through.

I will be saving money. The gas mileage will be better and it is cheaper to insure.

Things I Don't Love About My Car

The Bluetooth doesn't seem to recognize my iphone. Oh well. I'm not a telephone person anyway.

The ash seats. I don't really eat in my car but that color is awfully light. Maybe it will blend better with Jacks fur than the black ones in the RAV4 did.

So, yes, I do love my car - more than I should love any inanimate object. But this is only Day 2. I'm sure in no time at all, I'll be taking her for granted. But for now. I'm a very happy car owner.

Things I Love About Spring Break 2009

1. The color green
At this time of year, everything is bursting forth ready to bloom. My deck garden resembles a little green carpet. It is all I can do not to take my shoes off and wiggle my toes in its green lushness. Even the weeds look good.

2. Time
All my breaks from school bring an awareness of time. This one has made me realize that the more time I have the less I waste. When I am at work I am constantly thinking about things I need to do when I'm not working. Someday I will learn to write these things down instead of having to remember to think about them again when I am not at work so they can be addressed. While I've been home this week I was able to deal with anything that popped into my head and then still had time to enjoy the pleasures of life. It is an interesting thing, the more time I have the less I waste but the less time I have the more I waste. It just doesn't make sense.

3. Watching the rhythm of the world around me
I am fascinated by the view outside my front window. People come and go in their cars on a regular basis. The older people take their walks at about the same time everyday. The sun makes its journey across the sky changing the light patterns inside my house. I am lulled into some sense of relaxation simply by the regularity of it all.

4. Time to face issues of my life with some sense of logic
I am able to address problems that need to be dealt with in my life with something more than a knee jerk reaction. My money/car thing still hangs over my head but I can process it with a little more in-depth reaction. Perhaps it's just the ability to look at things with a broader vision. The world is not coming to an end. I can still afford to eat and drink. I have a roof over my head. And there is even a car in the driveway. If not, that little red bicycle would love to go for a ride.

5. Sunshine
I am a great lover of light. Even despite the high winds of the past couple days, I have deeply enjoyed the longer and brighter light of April in Santa Clara. Recently I have had thoughts that I could live quite happily in Florida where it's lighter for more of the year. Would I miss the changing of the seasons? Would I appreciate the increase in light without the darkness it must overcome?

6. Looking back
Spring break is a time where there isn't much left of the school year so it's a little frightening to look forward. 39 days isn't long to finish off the curriculum that must be done before these kids are sent to 7th grade. So it is a great time to look back at where I started 8 or 9 months ago. I knew so little about middle school coming in, so I am pleasantly surprised to still be so happy about the move up. On one level I feel incredibly lucky to have landed so softly. But I also know that the experiences of my past have prepared me for where I am today. Lucky me.

7. The approval to do nothing
As I get older I give myself the permission to "waste" time. This is not part of my Iowa upbringing so it has been a huge hurdle to overcome. I can know sit on the couch for an hour or so and read fiction. I can sit on the deck for longer than it takes to eat lunch or dinner and just sit.

8. Taking the time to walk
The days have very few scheduled events so I can take the time to walk to the store or the bank or wherever I need to go - even to La Paloma for that Cadillac Margarita with dear friends.

9. Cooking
I take the time to cook breakfast everyday and actually plan a menu for lunch and dinner. I have tried out a few new recipes this week and loved them all. I love the adventure of assembling ingredients and the voila feeling of when it's done. The first taste is a total sensory experience.

10. Reconnecting
I have enjoyed hanging out with my friends and family. Bill's Cafe, the aforementioned La Paloma, Easter Brunch, Barefoot Coffee, phone calls to celebrate birthdays and just because I'm thinking of you. It is that reminder that we were put here together to be in relationship with one another.

I am extremely grateful for all I have been given. Time is clearly the theme of this break. It is all we have and it is up to us to determine how it will be spent. Alone/together Working/playing Sitting and breathing/Walking and thinking I love my job not only for the actual work I do but for the time I am given away from it.
Christmas break,
February break,
Spring break
It is in the time spent reflecting that I can become better at what I do not only at school but in the world. The person I am becoming comes to me in the quiet times. I give thanks for the peacefulness that currently resides in my heart and guides me forward. I am calm. I am serene. I am happy to be in the place at this time.

News From the Shoulder Department

Drum roll please .....
After many days and weeks of preparation, a long awaited goal has been reached. The last few days I have made a conscious effort to pull my shirts over my head when dressing and undressing. I know how ridiculous this sounds but I have discovered that when body parts hurt your brain will find ways of accomplishing things without enduring the screech that inadvertently accompanies extreme sharp pain. Today was the day that I was going to make my first attempt at putting on a back closure bra. So I chose my favorite black number with great excitement and trepidation. It took two tries but I did it! I have to admit that it was not pain free but there was no screech at the end so I know my mission has been attained and every day will just get better. Yahoo!

RAV4 Update

I had a few extra minutes today so I thought I would check on my friend Eddy at SC Toyota and the status of my car. Much to my dismay Eddy wasn't there today. Darn! So in the space of less than 5 minutes I was put on hold 3 times. Eddy's partner, Dan informed me that the water pump didn't come in today but they were hoping it would be there tomorrow. My response, "Are you expecting it tomorrow?" He couldn't actually answer that but thought it would be good if it showed up. The end result was he would check on it in the parts department and call me back. At least he didn't put me on hold again but I didn't plan on waiting around for the phone to ring. So about 2 hours later I got a voice mail saying that he couldn't really get an exact ETA of my water pump but when it was ordered they had said 7 to 10 days and today was day 7. Once again he said it would be good if it came in tomorrow so they could get my car out of there. Hmm... Maybe they're getting tired of maneuvering around my car every day. I wish I could muster up some sympathy for those guys.

The Week That Will Never End

Monday morning came and a smile filled my soul. Just 5 days until spring break. Ahh.... spring break. It is truly my favorite of the year. It is not Easter break, it is all about spring. I rarely leave town on this one because I want to be home to soak up all that the change of the season has to offer. 5 days until spring break - that's it.

Monday was Monday; an almost ordinary day except for the multi-cultural door contest that needed to be planned. My bright spot was the news after lunch that one of our kids had skipped school. Now I only call it "bright" because he decided to stop by school at lunch and share the news that he was skipping school. I guess he had gotten bored hanging out at Safeway, 7-11 and Starbucks, a middle school student's desired destinations. So, yes, his friends all ratted him out. Unbelievable.

After school, I zipped over to meet with one of my new teachers. Then it was back to school to do sub plans for Thursday. Another 6:00 day and home to correct social studies papers.

Tuesday - a teacher in-service day that was spent scoring writing PBAs. Around the 10th one I suddenly realized that what used to be brain appeared to have turned to mush. These are 6th grade 5 paragraph essays on one of two topics - the SCUSD nutritional policy or reasons they should be able to choose their own seats. There are only so many ways that the 12 year old mind can defend those topics. I will admit there were a few that entertained me but for the most part, it was pure drudgery.

This was followed by a 2 1/2 hour IEP meeting. The student is one of my favotites but the mom just couldn't understand what we were trying to communicate regarding progress and his annual goals. I never dreamed that I would ever be using my knowledge of 1st grade reading skills and strategies in a middle school conference. It goes back to what I have always believed about my life. Everything I have ever done was necessary for what I would need when I got to today. There were 3 teachers there and I know that for every topic we covered each one of us had to explain it a different way to achieve even an inkling of understanding. She took copious notes and wrote all over the IEP plan. I truly have never seen anything like it. At 5:30 she said she would take the goals home, revise them and send them back to the SDC teacher. Unbelievable! (Yes. I know I said that on Monday.) When I got home I could not even think about fixing dinner. Like a robot, I opened the refrigerator, took out the leftover mac and cheese and dug in. That was followed of course by a nice Chardonnay.

Wednesday - another IEP at 7:45. This was polar opposite to yesterday's. Mom showed up in her pajamas and a 49er sweatshirt. It was clear she was not in any condition to maintain order in a house that now contains 3 6th graders and a 6 year old, three of which are special ed. I spent my first period prep tweaking my Thursday sub plans, correcting papers and figuring out where I'm going in social studies after spring break. Most of the rest of the day was spent on our "Italian Door." I took time out to address my wayward student who somehow thought it would be a great idea to skip school and then met with another one who chose to throw a racial slur in science class. By lunch I was completely done. But lo and behold, a plate of brownies walked in the room. Yahoo! Maybe I'll make it through the day after all. Then forms for 7th grade schedules were dumped in the 6th grade teacher's laps. They had to be filled out, sent home for parent signatures and returned by Friday. Unbelievable. (I know. I know. I already said that.) The door somehow gets finished and now it's time for our grade level meeting. This was phase two from last week. But this time everyone was present so all the cards were out on the table - ELL, special ed, science, PE and preps. Next on the agenda is a mandatory faculty meeting in honor of STAR testing. If that's not enough we tagged on a visit from the superintendent to discuss the present state of the district budget. Finally the day is over and time to party. We had Lindsey's shower and celebrated the beautiful mommy and baby-to-be.

Tomorrow is Thursday. The social studies doors will be judged. I will be involved in an ELL meeting for most of the day followed by a visit to my other new teacher to discuss her unit summative assessments and evaluate student growth. UGH. After school there will be a multi-cultural food event which I will probably have to miss.

And then it will finally be Friday. Oh, sweet Friday. We will have a shortened schedule in order to end with a multi-cultural performance from some Ohlone Indians and Aztec dancers. And then the week will finally be over

Spring Break, here I come!

Finacial Woes

Close to a month ago, I came upon an idea to achieve some of my financial goals; sell my car which would eliminate my remaining car payments for the next 2 years and pocket the extra to pay off my credit card debt and get back to ground zero. Now, I am famous for coming up with crazy schemes that achieve short term goals but are not in my best interest in the long run. So I sat with this one for a couple weeks before I made any moves.

In recent months, my world has become extremely small and it is possible for me to walk or bike to almost anywhere I have to go. I work 8 blocks from home, the nearest Safeway is only an additional 3 blocks away. I toyed with the idea of going carless but knew that was where I had gone too far. So the next thought was to buy an old car to use for emergency trips. I quickly discovered that purchasing an old car would then nix the ability to pay off my credit card. Then, lo and behold, my ex-husband decided to buy a new car and asked me if I would like to take over ownership of his 137,000 mile Jetta. There was the answer!

So I put my car on Craigs List and waited to see what would happen. There were several responses and a few people came by to see it. On the 6th day of the 7 day ad I received a short e-mail that said, "please call ---------- if you're still interested in selling rav4." I figured what the heck. I called the number and the voice mail greeting was definitely British. I wasn't feeling very positive at this point and was already entertaining the notion of relisting the add at a reduced price since I would be making another payment the following Friday. But the Brit found his way from Pleasanton and took a short test drive. He said he was looking at a couple more cars and would need to get approval from his wife who was still in London.

As the week progressed the e-mails and text messages were flying in at an incredible speed. Somehow I held myself together and just took one day at a time to see where it all ended up. We were dealing with DMV issues as well as the transfer of money. The buyer wanted to be assured that the car was in good shape mechanically so I agreed to have a dealer inspection done. This is where my relationship began with the evil doers at Stevens Creek Toyota. I called them Tuesday morning to schedule an appointment for the inspection and they said, "Oh you don't need an appointment. You can just bring it in." So that's just what I did. When I got there and told them what I needed I was told that they couldn't possibly do it today because today was a semi holiday as it happened to be Caesar Chavez Day. So I made an appointment for Wednesday. I showed up Wednesday and told them I had an appointment which the man totally ignored and went through the entire process once again of writing down all the pertinent numbers in my car. We got inside the office and he said, "Oh I see you have done this already." No shit, Sherlock! So I went inside to get comfortable in the waiting room and set about to correct my pile of social studies papers. Shortly after I finished the stack I was given the news that I had a leaking water pump. I updated my buyer with the news and after another flurry of e-mails we decided that we would have it repaired here and plan to transfer money and the car on Saturday. I contacted SC Toyota and dropped off the car Thursday night without another thought about it. As the day progressed I sort of waited for word from the dealer to hear that the car was ready. That didn't happen. I finally called them before my 6th period class. My new friend Eddie said to me, "Did you get my voice mail?" Nope. He then proceeded to tell me that they could not replace the water pump because they were still waiting for the part to come in. I had one of those weird reactions when you laugh at inopportune times. I laughed and kind of shouted, "You're kidding!" I then proceeded to inform Eddie that I was selling my car tomorrow afternoon and I needed a guarantee that my car would be ready by noon. He, of course could not give me a guarantee but assured me that they would do everything in their power to have it ready between 10 and 12 on Saturday. At this point, my increase in heart rate reminded me of how much I hate, yes hate, ineptitude. Friday night passed and I noticed a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. This always happens when for some reason things are not going as planned. Somehow I just know. Saturday morning I received the answer. Eddie called at 9:30 with his deepest apologies and was willing to do almost anything for me knowing this would severely compromise the sale of my car. It turns out that there is a huge shortage of RAV4 water pumps nationwide. Headquarters was saying anywhere from 2-4 weeks to fill the back orders. Now here is the clincher. They had already taken my water pump out before they realized this problem. I have some difficulty understanding this plan of attack. Isn't that a little like deciding to make a cake before you see if there is any flour in the pantry? So the old water pump could not be put back because the seal has been broken; a new water pump is unavailable. What now? The buyer was very patient but understandably did not want to invest such a large amount of money into a car that was laying on pieces on the Toyota garage floor. The last word came Saturday at 3:30 that Toyota was hopeful they could get a water pump in a week but it could be 2 weeks. The buyer is going to go back to his search for a car. I will be relisting my car on Craigs list but right now have nothing to sell.

I am currently more irritated with human beings than I have been in a long time. But at the same time am deeply grateful that I have a car to drive. I would like very much for Toyota to make amends - this is the revengeful side of me speaking - but since the car is still under warranty until April 29th the repair will be free anyway. So in the end, I am just left with my bills and a good idea on how to pay them.

This Week

This week feels a little bit like a driving in a freak snow storm. You can't figure out where it came from and there is no way that you can see your way out of it. Every school calendar has one of those periods where you think the devil must have planned it. Who in their right mind would put all of these things together in a 5 day period? The quarter ended on Friday which meant final grading of projects in order to close out report cards along with comments for all those below C students. Today is the District Science Fair. Tomorrow is Open House. Wednesday and Thursday are block schedule days and the district scheduled both the science and writing end of year performance based assessments to be given on the same days. In addition to all of this, I also have 3 separate BTSA meetings this week. And in the meantime, I am attempting to sell my car. The e-mails flying back and forth are something to behold. It is a great lesson in taking one day at a time. It truly is all I can handle during times like this.

I Love Flour Babies

The 7th graders at my school do a one week project where they take care of a baby for a week. They are required to take the baby everywhere throughout the school day. These babies are five pounds of flour that are enclosed inside the body of a stuffed doll. It is just the sweetest thing to see our goofy little 7th grade boys hauling around their babies before school. There is a seriousness to it because anyone caught disrespecting their babies is of course reported to the office. I have really enjoyed our TA coming in with her baby this week. On Monday the baby was faceless and nameless. During the course of the week, she has acquired a name, some beautiful blue eyes and really long eyelashes along with a cute little frog outfit. Our little mother was having a bit of trouble filing while holding the baby today so I got the pleasure of carrying her around the room for a bit while my students worked on their Greek god posters. My kids went kind of cuckoo for a moment but it was great fun to just think about babies for a bit.

That Time of Year Again

Spring in Santa Clara means junk in the street, loose papers, dust blowing across the lawn and scavengers cruising the streets in search of treasures out of trash. It is our annual clean up time. For years I have said that no one could possibly have this mush crap stored away in their homes to be brought out year after year. And yet, year after year, that is exactly what happens. I am so happy to find my little space of empty curb as I come home each day. I am proud to be junkless this year. My remodeling days are over and I do my best to move my unused clothing and household goods to the Goodwill on a regular basis. In my mind, junk belongs in the trash and we already have a truck that comes by every week for that purpose. I'm not a saver so there is no way I can understand the amount of just stuff I see in the street. Mattresses, broken down furniture, old appliances, boxes and boxes of c-r-a-p. But the most fascinating part of the whole process is to watch the scavengers. They always know the weekend that each part of town is scheduled to put their stuff out. The go getters are out bright and early on Saturday morning and often are putting things in their trucks as quickly as you can bring them to the curb. I fluctuate between thinking that it's a great way for the poor to get things they can use to build what they need and just being irritated at the parade of vans and trucks that puruse the neighborhood throughout the weekend. It is just part of our Santa Clara culture. This year it is expecially messy because of the mixed up weather. Our nice warm afternoons somehow morphed into cold, rain and wind. Not a good mixture with piles and piles of c-r-a-p that have been stored in some distant corner of a dusty, moldy garage for the past 11 months. I am defintely not a neat freak but I am ready for the big truck to come take it all away.

Who we become

It seems that lately the paper has been filled with deaths of teenage boys. I was most touched by the Los Gatos high school student who didn't come home from the beach and was assumed drowned. This touched me for a myriad of reasons. Death of the young has a profound effect on the loved ones left behind. P, D and I had an interesting discussion over dinner and wine a few nights ago about the way we have each as individuals been changed by losing a brother and son. Losing my brother at a young age changed who I would become. It changed my place in the family. I went from being one of the middle children to the "baby." I liked being third a lot better. Middle kids can get away with a lot. It changed how I felt about the world. It was no longer a safe place. And it changed me spiritually. I was just certain that I would be the next to go. As I have aged, I have been able to sort and classify a lot of the feelings that resulted from his death but nothing can change the fact that one single event can forever change who I became. I viewed life as a sister who had lost her brother. P and D had similar feelings in the death of their son. Everyone in the family felt that loss in many different ways. But the end result is that they are all different people today because of that event.

In the classroom, we as teachers like to look out at our students and think that we are looking at 11 or 12 year olds, boys and girls, high, middle and low achievers. But that is an injustice to who they really are. Each one of those kids is different. They have had different experiences that have changed who they are becoming. They have had loved ones die, they are living in divorced homes, they have parents who are losing jobs and fighting to hold on. There is only one way I can look at those 60 some kids - as children who are trying to make their way in the world, who are being changed day by day by events of which they have no control, and to look deeply and see the reality of who they truly are.

Lost Generation

Hope is the answer.

I Just Can't Decide...

Today felt like the first day in I don't know how long that I didn't have a meeting after school. I was so excited just to have some time to get my head together on my Ancient China unit. Actually, in all honesty, I don't know if you can call it a unit or not. Not knowing much about ancient China or having any other activities to teach with, I just stuck with the book. We are all incredibly bored and I just want to get it over with so we can get to Greece. Well there was no head-getting=together time today because of the piles of papers that needed to be corrected. So I turned on Pandora and just got busy looking forward to the idea of not taking any work home for a change. I am very focused when working in my classroom and I know I actually get through it faster but I also love, love being at home on the couch. It is an on-going dilemma for me with the additional paper work in middle school. Should I put the extra time in at school so that when I actually do go home I can relax without grades on my mind or do I get out of there as soon as I can and fit the work in at home as the evening progresses? As an elementary teacher, I was adamant about never taking school home but it is much more challenging these days. I am determined to not let the paperwork get ahead of me and so far I have stayed on top of it all. BTSA meetings with the new teachers I support just do not make it possible to finish my work at school on a daily/nightly basis. So today I hung in there until it was all done including my note taking on Taoism for tomorrow's lesson. The problem is I was still sitting at my desk at 6:00. That's not good. But I did enjoy my walk home with a completely empty head. I saw flowers I hadn't noticed before, enjoyed the sun falling into the rising fog and exchanged greetings with the guys hanging around the liquor store panhandling for "bus fare." That's certainly worth something. So my dilemma continues but I don't worry too much about it. This like all dilemmas that I try to make into decisions, will be taken care of by the universe one way or the other.

Earth

The cosmos was once thought to be made up of only 4 elements; earth, air, water, and fire. In my early adult years I had a strong affinity toward fire. Perhaps it was just the leftovers of my teenage angst and college rebellion. The baby years were definitely a time of water for me. But the last few years I have felt my spirit mellow into earth. I am one of those people who has an internal clock that is in total sync with the rising and setting of the sun. I have no need of an alarm clock and only use one if I have an appointment that is completely out of the ordinary. I feel sorry for people who have to be jarred out of their sleep by obnoxious noises.

So here we are in the first day of Daylight Savings Time. Winter is bidding adieu and Spring is taking her stand. This is the time of year when I feel the pull to earth the strongest. The increase in light and drying of the land practically drags me into nurseries and out to the back yard. I try to keep up with my weeds throughout the year but it is in March that it actually brings me joy to pull as many as I possibly can. I clear the path reaching out and bringing back handfuls of green stems and yellow blossoms. I am like a farmer who cultivates in great swaths of his field. I move across the yard section by section sometimes vertically and sometimes horizontally, leaving emptiness in my wake. I love the sight of the brown black earth that lies beneath. It is the blank canvas that will bring forth the unknown summer blooms and vegetables. I'm not one of those people who insists on garden gloves. They're nice when I think about putting them on but I actually love the feel of dirt inside my fingernails. I have often thought it is because I work in a job where it is difficult to see what you accomplished in the day to day scheme of things. But dirt in your nails and clear garden paths make it very clear. You can stand back and admire that and say, "Look what I did today." When I am in the dirt I lose all concerns or worries for the future. I feel completely grounded and know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I am simply there accepting what is and knowing what can never be. Tulips and daffodils only bloom in the spring, tomatoes and zucchini have to wait for their time in summer. I remember once again the importance of allowing the universe to be in charge. As the sun travels across the sky I am being pulled again. I am hesitant to stop my gardening. I want to hold on to the feelings of harmony that have once again returned as I move toward spring. But I know I have a school bag full of papers waiting for me. I promise myself to find time during the week to return to the garden. This is what that mortgage is all about and why I live in a little green house with a big back yard.

First Grade is Such a Distant Memory

Long long ago I was a first grade teacher and I did it for a long long time. As a support provider I once again find myself in first grade classrooms to observe my teachers. The same feeling washes over me each time I cross the threshhold. I did this? I stood in front of these little bodies for 180 days at a crack and taught them to read and write and add and subtract? You have got to be kidding me! As I look at these little ones with confusion over who I was or who I have become I distinctly remember my family saying the same sorts of things to me. How do you do it? Where does the patience come from to work with 6 year olds? I have absolutely no explanation of the journey I have been on. But when I looked at those kids today it was like being on another planet. They have such round little faces and bodies and speak with such squeaky high pitched voices. Looking into their eyes, the word diligence came into my head. They all looked so darned serious about what they were doing. They sit up straight in their chairs and speak with the upmost respect to any and all adults. Seriousness pervades their very being. It is such an opposite world from my sixth grade students who just flop into their chairs and meet your gaze with that "I dare you to teach me look." Glancing around the room you're amazed at the cleanliness, for lack of a better term. The girls are so cute from the top of their perfectly parted hair below a crown of headbands and frilly little scrunchies all the way down to their shiny sparkly shoes. The boys are almost squeaky clean in their tucked in polo shirts and perfect pants. They're even cute when they are getting in trouble. The lower lip gets sucked inside the mouth and you wait for the tears but they are held tight inside. They sulk down in their chairs until you think they will completely melt away. Minutes later someone is walk/skip/dancing across the room. You hear something that resembles a song and realize that one of them is read/chant/singing the directions on the paper. It is close to comical but the seriousness that is everywhere in the room keeps the smile on your face from being vocalized into a giggle. Something catches my eye and I see an upside down index finger being inserted into a mouth like iron to a magnet. Is the seriousness turning into something more? As I rise to leave, I see one of those perfect princesses running towards me. I bend down to meet the outstretched arms and she says, "Thank you for coming to watch us today." How cute is that? But really... I did this? Everyday? For 8 years? It is umcomprehensible but at the same time a wonderful reminder of this amazing journey I am on.

The Comfort of Old Friendships

The comfort of old friendships is a feeling that can not be duplicated. I had dinner with an old friend tonight for the first time in quite a while. Our lives took a few turns that caused us to lose track of one another for a couple years so this was our chance to reconnect. We go back more years than I care to admit but we first met during the days of the vegetable coop and soon after that our kids went to school together. Those "kids" are now 31 years old. Hard to believe. We taught together many many years ago. She was as close to a mentor as I have ever had. I cannot imagine the number of hours we have passed talking literacy in the last 20 years. She has moved on to administration and I to middle school. We have often compared our friendship to a pair of old shoes. One day you rediscover them in the back of your closet and immediately remember how comfortable those shoes are and put them back on just for the pure pleasure of it all. Oh yes. I love my old shoes. The wonder of those tried and true friendships come from being so well known. There's no need to try and explain who you are, where you have come from or how you ended up where you are today. It is all understood. The conversation is easy and it just seems to flow from one topic to another. There is no issue with sharing food or splitting bills. It is all just so comfortable. I am grateful for the journey I am on and all those I have been given to accompany me. But I really like it when I circle back around and have the joy once again of hanging out with an old friend.