Am I Becoming My Grandmother

Looking at this picture, it is still hard for me to believe that this beautiful cake came out of my kitchen. It all began a few nights ago when I was pondering my team partner's birthday and was in a bit of a quandary about what sort of cake to bake. She gave me a few suggestions and off I went on my internet search. What did I ever cook before the internet? When I first saw this gorgeous thing on line it looked completely out of my league. But the more I searched and reflected on the meaning of real food and the connection between food and friendship, the more I began to think that it was doable, even on a school night. And so it came into being.

The instant I poured that chocolate glaze over the peanut butter frosting, and my hand guided the spatula over the edge of the cake creating that waterfall of decadence, something came to life inside me. I didn't know what it was going to taste like but I somehow knew it was going to be heavenly and that I would be changed by it.

I have always been a good cook, not great but good. I've always attributed it to the fact that I am basically a rule follower. Give me a recipe and I will follow it. I'm not one of those people who adapt or tweak them, I just do what it says. Lately a few things have happened to make me reevaluate my abilities as a cook. #1 I have become known at Buchser as an excellent baker. It was funny at the beginning because that was simply never how I was defined at any other school. Someone else had that role. I was always a part of a group that shared recipes and talked cooking but I was never at the top of the list. Last year I laughed about it but this year it is a more serious mantle that I might now be ready to take on. #2 While my sister was in the hospital with her hip replacement last summer we were chatting with our favorite nurse. She asked which of us was the best cook and my sister immediately responded that I was. Once again I laughed at this because I just had never thought of myself as a better cook than my big sister. I have also recently had a few conversations with my daughter and mother about my great love of Thanksgiving dinner and the important role that my grandmother has played in my life. I still think she is one of the most amazing cooks that ever lived. I would give almost anything to eat one of her dinners just one more time.

This morning I woke up and one of the first thoughts in my head was that amazing cake. I just can't wait to make it again. I laughed it away and then began to think about how my view of myself as a cook is changing. It is an evolving vision. By the time I got through my morning routine the thought had moved from that cake to asking myself, am I becoming my grandmother? I quickly laughed this off as well. I don't ever remember seeing my grandmother take a bite of her own cake and moan, yes moan, about how good it was. I clearly have a long way to go before I achieve "Grandma" status.

Analyzing Hope

A new question has arisen. From whence does hope come? How do we give birth to it, grow it and somehow sustain it indefinitely? Why are some people filled with it while others seem to be left with none? I used to label teachers as positive or negative but now I see it is something much deeper. We who live in hope are those who believe that kids and their parents can change and those who seem to be without hope have become calloused to the miracles, the big ones and the little ones that simply start with today.

I have a student who I have been with for 3 years now and yet I remain ever hopeful. There is no way I can explain that except to say that that is why I do what I do. How could I possibly do this job day in and day out if I didn't believe that kids can change, if I didn't believe that what I do and say matter? The amusing part is it doesn't take much for me to grow the seed of hope in my heart. All I need is a smile, a raised hand, a picked up pencil, a completed assignment. That's all! The rest will come on its own.

And why are others so sure that the miracle will not and cannot happen? Perhaps it is just what they choose to look at and focus upon. They concentrate on the accumulation of days when assignments have been left blank rather than this moment when because a circle of adults showed they cared, it changed. They see the few that have failed rather than the thousands that have thrived.

I am thankful that I do my job within the embrace of hopefulness. On Monday I will again do all in my power to get a smile, a raised hand, a picked up pencil, a completed assignment. I know that it may or may not happen but I also know that it is the possible. That is hope, believing in the possible.

180 Days is Plenty!

Today I started the second half of my second year with a fascinating student. More often than not, as that child walked out of my room last year, I could be seen shaking my head, wondering what just happened. I chalked it up to it being my first year in middle school and not really understanding what these organisms really were. I looked forward to a second chance with this student. Year 2 meant there was a paper trail. And the 7th grade teachers did everything you would want them to do - asked questions, held meetings, set goals. The student was put on medication and I was ever hopeful. Well, once again, as this kid walked out of my room this morning, I was shaking my head. So I guess, one year is probably enough.

Thoughts Rumbling Around

I am fascinated by how individual thoughts rumble around inside my head. Sometimes they inadvertently find each other and come together to form a new and deeper perception of the world around me. But sometimes an event way outside of my own little world propels them into each other, creating a massive collision and I have no alternative but to wake up and pay attention.

Last weekend a friend and I were having a typically light-hearted conversation about how in our teaching experiences the good kids don't seem to rub off on the bad ones but the opposite often does occur. There's something about the socialization of young children, that if you have a group of well-behaved 4 or 5 year-olds and insert one not so well behaved, the angels will very quickly start experimenting with the language and actions of the devil. It almost never happens the other way around. Why is that? Why are we humans, even such young ones, so tempted by being bad? So there is thought #1.

Thought #2 comes from a reminder from the book, Stones Into Schools, of the number of children that were killed in the earthquake in Pakistan because of poorly constructed schools and now the criminal collapse of hundreds of buildings in Haiti killing tens of thousands of people. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that I would find value in the American system of building codes. But that is exactly where my thinking led today.

Evidently humans cannot do something simply because it is the right thing to do. We have to have rules to follow. Just as young children seem to choose being bad over being good, so do builders and the government that controls them. Add to the mix, corruption and greed and there is no turning back. There are many pieces of our building code that are just plain silly but in my book, silly trumps death any day.

The visual images of Haiti's desperate and pervasive poverty have torn my heart apart for years. And now to watch in living color with commentary, the death and destruction that has occurred because of a country's reckless abandon of concern for the safety of its own people, I am besought with confusion. I have always had trouble understanding evil in the world but this must be it in the flesh. And we as Americans are not blameless. We have bankrolled and turned our backs on the corruption in that country for decades.

Day after day the death count continues with no end in sight. I wait for it to get better, to heal itself. Money is coming in and supplies are purchased. But just like every other disaster, they are not delivered to those in need. Concerns are expressed that people will riot when the supplies are distributed. So we wait. For what? The potential rioters to die of thirst, I suppose.

My deepest hope at this point is that the money that is being generated can be the agent of change. We cannot allow that money into the hands of the current corrupt government with no strings attached. It is the only possible ray of hope in this entire debacle, that out of death will come life. A new Haiti. A Haiti where a child will be born and loved, not sold. A Haiti where children will be educated and contribute to the global future. A Haiti where poverty is history. A Haiti where the government redefines itself as caretakers not murderers of its own people.

We as humans, must stop turning our backs on these countries in turmoil. This chain of events has happened too many times. We know that it's going on, whatever it is. We feel sad. All hell breaks loose and then suddenly we are ready to fix the problem with money, doctors, aid, and anything else our money will buy. I am so grateful that there are people throughout the world that are willing to stop their lives and run to the aid of those in need; the Red Cross, Doctors Without Borders, UNICEF. For the first time this morning, I wished it could be me.

At the crux of it all remains that question of good vs evil. Small children struggle with it at a sub conscious level but as adults, there must certainly be a clear knowledge regarding the end result of the decisions we make. When we shortcut building construction out of disrespect for safety, someone, sometime is going to suffer for it. They are going to die. The visual images of human bodies buried in the rubble of collapsed buildings must be emblazoned on the minds of those responsible for building the new nation of Haiti.

Connecting the Dots

I recently viewed a commencement speech by Steve Jobs that planted a seed which quickly became an aha! sapling. He talked about connecting the dots of our life events and the importance of remembering that we don't know where those dots are going until we get through them and can look back. I get that. My life has had a series of dots that created nothing more than concentric circles because I wasn't willing to let go of what I thought I wanted. I appear to be learning my life lessons and getting better at letting whatever is supposed to happen, happen. This little Connect the Dots message reverberating in my brain just brought understanding to another recent question. I have been telling all my friends that this school year is somehow different. I have changed. The word I used to describe it is aging. I am calmer. I am not afraid to just sit and I actually revel in it. Weekend goals do not get accomplished and it no longer matters to me. I leave school when I'm tired, not when I'm done. Now, no one agreed that this was in fact a sign of aging. Everybody had a different opinion because aging appears to be a "bad" word in a certain sector of people - mostly those over 55. No it isn't aging. It is finally being where I was supposed to be. This is me being in balance, being able to focus on the important things in life because the energy isn't being diverted on forcing life to go my way.

I am a middle school teacher. It is only now that I understand that statement to its fullest. I don't bring the fervor to it that I did to primary because it is where I am supposed to be. I don't need the extra energy, it all comes naturally.

I am about to become a grandmother. There is nothing about that fact that scares or intimidates me. It is where I am supposed to be.

I am a homeowner. I'm not sure how I have kept the financial pieces together in my life over the past 10 years but somehow I am still here in this little house on Fremont Street, paying my mortgage, property taxes and insurance. Perhaps this too is just where I am supposed to be.

Yes, I am aging. But that is not the explanation for my recently acquired skill at sitting on the couch for long periods of time. It is indeed, where I am supposed to be.

Someone Else's Shoes in my Footprints

I recently had the most unusual feeling during a conversation with a dear friend. Over the years she and I have had many chats about her husband and the challenges of marriage in general. But as the conversation took a turn for the worse she pulled out a copy of "Too Good To Leave, Too Bad to Stay" my personal Bible in deciding when enough was enough in my own marriage. All I could do was hug her and say "no, no no." But as we continued to talk I had the odd feeling of someone being inside my head and speaking my words. As she continued I began reliving my own pain and as I shared pieces of my story the tears returned. It has been 11 years but my pierced heart felt like someone had just ripped it open again exposing the gash to the open air just like it was the first time once more. The feeling of never mattering, never coming first. I nodded my understanding, my empathy, my shared sadness. It was the only time in my life where I could say, "I know just how you feel" and we both knew it was true.

I don't often feel myself worthy of giving advice. Even when asked, I am hesitant to share my views. Who am I to suggest to someone else words or actions that could unalterably change their own personal journey? I can tell my story but I can't put someone else in it. But here was someone who really did seem to be living my story and the most deeply painful chapter of it. If I could alleviate some of that pain or even just authenticate the feelings, it was my duty, my obligation to share my perspective. So for the first time in my life I am leading the way. I am taking it upon myself to check in with her, to see how things are going, to get together and talk through the hard parts. It feels good and right. I am happy to be her refuge in this very difficult storm. It is the reminder that no matter the twists and turns of life, be they joyous or sorrowful, they are all best shared with those who love us.

Happy Birthday Dad

My dad's birthday is on December 29th, not the greatest time of year to think about gift giving. Usually I do his shopping along with the Christmas rush but this year it seemed to be more than I could handle. I just couldn't think of anything to buy. I sent an email asking for ideas and it was suggested that I write a letter to my representatives telling them to stop spending our money. So here is my gift to my dad.

Dear Representative Honda, Senator Boxer and Senator Feinstein,

On Christmas day there was a small article in my local paper, San Jose Mercury News, entitled “Congress Raises Debt Ceiling to $12.4 Trillion.” As a teacher who scrimps and saves to make ends meet each month, this got my attention. According to the paper, this measure was needed as a result of the out-of-control-budget deficit that is predicted to tip the scales at 12.1 trillion by the end of this year. Senators who were interviewed for the article all agreed that they did not want to vote for the bill but saw no other alternative. For several months now, that has been the bottom line; we see no other alternative but to continually increase our nation’s debt and hand out money that isn’t ours to give.

So the end result is that our government has once again voted itself another blank check with no concern regarding from where that money will come. This is a lesson that we teach our children from adolescence into young adulthood. You can’t spend money that you don’t have. When it’s gone you are left with two choices, you can either spend less or make more. The only way the government can make more is to increase taxes and fees and they don’t seem capable of understanding how to spend less. It is always more, more, more; more regulation, more government, more taken out of Medicare, more people added to the system, more spending above and beyond inflation, more pet projects, and more unfunded liabilities. When is enough, enough? When do we say stop? For me it is today. As my representative, I am telling you to stop the out of control spending!

For the first time in our nation’s history, we are almost certain to leave a country that is less, not more than what we received, to future generations. We are no longer respected on the world stage for what we create. The world now sees us only for what we can repay. We are debtors. We owe China 23% of our national debt and Japan 21%. We are quickly approaching a point where our Gross Domestic Product will equal our national debt. This is a very frightening position in which to find ourselves.

Our debt must now become the number one focus for our government officials to address. It’s not health care or crime or even national security. The ever-increasing public debt is the most important problem that we as a nation are facing. We can’t afford the current programs that must be funded let alone the new programs that are being voted in. When you return in January, the number one item on the agenda must be to cut spending. We cannot continue down this path of spending our children and grand children’s money. We are leaving for them a financial disaster that none of us would want to be a part of. It is time to make the tough decisions and make cuts. No more handouts to banks or car companies or anyone else that is supposedly too big to fail. There is no such thing. The only thing that is going to fail in this economic disaster is the hard-working men and women of America. There will be no other alternative than to increase taxes to pay for the debt you have created. And I for one cannot afford one more hit before I will be forced to make my own tough decisions.

The futures of the American citizens rest in your hands. Put yourself in the place of the more humble working class. We are just barely holding on, working hard and paying our bills month-to-month, hoping that the small amount of savings that we can steel away will sustain us in our retirement. We don’t want to live off of our government but it seems that now we will be the ones saying, “I see no other alternative.”

You have choices to make. They are not easy ones but there is no other option left but to make them and to make them now.

Going Mexican

The Giannini family went Mexican for Christmas Eve this year. It started off as a bit of a joke that ended up being a seed that planted and started to take root in my little brain. Tamales for Christmas... great idea. That means not having prime rib two days in a row. Being someone who rarely eats red meat anyway, the thought of an alternative was very enticing to me. That meant a search for the best tamales in San Jose. This was an adventure I greatly enjoyed in the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas. The answer for us was found at El Azteca on 28th Street. The menu took hold - tamales, enchiladas, Spanish rice, beans, corn pudding - and we were ready for the trial run.

The end result was that everyone agreed that this could be the beginning of a wonderful new tradition. There are many advantages to the Mexican meal on Christmas Eve. I LOVE Mexican food so in all honesty, this would probably work for me any day of the year. Cumin and red pepper sauce have a tendency to warm the nostrils even before you take a bite. We loved the warmth of the spices in the air as well as on our tongues. What could be better to warm your spirit on a cold and dreary winter night? In addition this meal included my two favorite beverages in the whole world - Mexican hot chocolate and margaritas. The clincher for me was that it was definitely cheaper and easier to prepare than prime rib. During the time of year that we need desperately to conserve both money and energy, what could be better?

Cookies: The Ugly Step-Child

It is Christmas time, a very big time of year for the lowly cookie. Much like merchandise in the stores, if they don't make it in December, it's not going to happen for them. Cookies have never been my favorite dessert. If you lined up a cake, a pie and a platter of cookies I would always take the cake first and the cookies last. Cookies are the everyday where cake is special.

Over the years, I've tried to make friends with the cookie. When my kids were little I did the cookie thing at Christmas year after year trying to duplicate my own childhood memories. There was the Swedish Spritz, complete with a cookie press and all the trouble of decorating them, cut out sugar cookies, chocolate crinkles, jelly filled thumbprints and pecan sandies. But as the years have gone by I am as close as I have ever been to banning Christmas cookies from my oven door.

First of all, they are just a lot of trouble to make. Cookie batter is thick and hard to manage. It will burn up a portable mixer in no time at all. It is the #1 reason to invest in a KitchenAid mixer. A recipe of cookies will make 5 dozen tasty treats but that's 5 times of loading and unloading a cookie sheet. My favorite time saver as a young mother was to make a recipe of chocolate chip cookies and spread it all out into a jelly roll pan and bake it. TA DA! Cookies are done in one fell swoop! I did this long past the point that it was necessary for me to save time simply because the repetition of spooning batter on and scraping cookies off of a cookie sheet bored me. A batch of cookies takes hours where a cake is in and out of the oven in 30-40 minutes.

Cookies have a tendency to become dry and crumbly within minutes of their exit from the oven. Now, I will eat the crumbs of almost anything but 9 times out of 10, cookie crumbs go in the trash. After all the work of baking those things, you put them in a bag or cookie jar and as it comes toward your mouth it starts to fall apart. That doesn't happen to cake or pie because it's on a fork. Try forking a cookie and see what happens.

Cookies have a feeling of the ordinary. The action of spooning cannot compare with the drama of pouring batter into cake pans. There is a specialness to cake that just isn't there with cookies. It is light and airy where cookies are flat and solid. We take care of cake. We layer it and frost it and even try to make it look pretty on top. Not cookies. One of my favorite cookies of my childhood were Chocolate Frosted Cookies. Why? They had the soft texture of cake and frosting on them - yes, every one of them.

There's a reason Christmas cookies make a great Christmas gift. You look at them and you see the hours of dedication that went into just making them, let alone decorating them. Well you won't get cookies from me. I'm a bread, cake, nuts, and fudge kind of girl at Christmas time. Did I make cookies this year? Yes, one batch of Chocolate Crinkles and only because I remember how much my family likes them. It is the reminder of how homemade is filled with more than a recipe and ingredients. This we do for love.

So on Thursday night, I will set the cake aside and let the lowly cookie take center stage.

Dear Santa

This week my son asked me for a Christmas list. My first reaction was that I didn't really want anything. I had everything I needed. But then, of course as I thought about it I was able to come up with quite a variety of things - there's my Amazon wish list, Italian pottery, those cute little yellow dishes I have my eye on at Sur La Table, and of course the predictable sweater or pajamas that is always on my wish list.

The whole wish list idea stuck in my head and I started thinking about things I really want.

Dear Santa,
I know that you are busy fulfilling all the Christmas wishes of the good little boys and girls in the world. But I'm a little worried about the other 364 days for our children. Perhaps you and the elves could look into a few other areas. Here is my Christmas wish list for 2009.

World Peace
I am one of those products of the 60's that is always dreaming of world peace. I have read enough that I understand the psychology as well as the politics of the necessity of war but I refuse to accept it. Perhaps we could just start with the absence of war and see where we can go from there.

A society that values children
I am constantly appalled at the lack of attention that is given to our youngest members. We open their minds to violence, sex, and greed at lower and lower ages. Too many parents are overworked with no energy left for raising children so the kids are left on their own. There are no longer advocates for our babies that are growing up way too fast. And yet we are shocked that they are committing unfathomable crimes and we are left with no option but to try them as adults.

Clean air and water
As I said, I am a child of the 60's and this is more residue. We are making progress in this department but there is still a long way to go. We need to start functioning in the day to day with our grand children's and great grand children's lungs in mind. I want Baby Girl to enjoy the wilderness as much as her Grandma Tere does. I want her to have the pleasure of eating fresh tomatoes and strawberries grown in her backyard for her own children.

I want our parks to stay open. I want the homeless to have jobs, food, clothing and shelter. And while I am it, I want world hunger to end. I want people to respect one another; to just be nice. I want an end to racism and gender discrimination.

Now, here is what I will be giving for Christmas this year:
Warmth - both physical and emotional
Smiles
Laughter
Love - the unconditional kind
The sound of Christmas music
Kitchen smells that will seep into the heart to be reborn again and again
Pumpkin bread, fudge, spiced nuts, and red velvet cake
A chance to create new family memories around our Christmas Eve dinner table
Total commitment to living in the moment so I can enjoy each one deeply and completely.
A promise to let the Christmas spirit live long into January and maybe even a bit longer.

Santa, I'll do what I can to be the change in my little corner of the world. And as you're out spreading the Christmas spirit maybe, just maybe, 2010 together we'll begin to grow the dream of becoming the best that we can be.

Merry Christmas, Santa. Enjoy the cookies and milk.
Love,
Tere

Giving Birth to a Grandmother

I am encroaching upon a new role in my life. I am being redefined. I am very soon to receive additional responsibilities in my job description of Mom. I will have a new title and even more fun. I'm about to be known to the world as Grandma Tere. Up until this point I have just felt happy about witnessing a new generation in the making. I love watching and listening to Maria and Bill talk about the new family they are creating. But lately I have become much more emotional about it all. There has been a softening of my heart that somehow matches the softening of the body that comes with age. I cry more than I ever have in my whole life - at movies, TV shows or just looking at Maria's changing body and thinking about the life that is growing inside. I see babies and toddlers everywhere. I watch them with so much more intent now and wonder what is going through their heads as they learn to navigate the world they have found themselves a part of. It is all I can do not to start talking to strangers' babies or grab their toes and give them a loving shake. My favorite is seeing them in the grocery stores still in their footed jammies, babbling away. It makes me smile, no matter what else is happening in the world.

As the new C-G develops, I begin to ponder the kind of grandmother I am about to become. I remember two of my grandmothers and they played a very important role in my childhood. Although they were very different, I appreciated both of them and still only think of them with love. One spoiled me terribly and would have given me anything I ever wanted if my parents hadn't intervened and the other has been an extremely important model for who I have become as an adult. She taught me that food speaks love and that the effort put into homemade only makes it better. I can't imagine grandparenting like either of them did but a mixture of the two might be nice. I can't wait to see this baby and talk to her and figure out the grandmother I will be.

I am learning that just as parents want to give their very best to their children; so do grandparents I want to make a difference in this child's life. I want to fill her with love and guide her journey in this life. I have learned so much in life since I was a young mom and want so badly to share it.

I am also filled with strange little feelings about the beginning of a new generation. I never was concerned with whether or not my kids had babies. I only hoped that any babies who came into the world would be wanted and loved. I have just seen too many who weren't. But now I find myself rather amazed at the birthing of a new generation. It means that we believe the world is good and that we trust the people in it to support this new life. It is the belief in the future; the knowledge that we will overcome the struggles we face today leaving a land of plenty for those who come after us.

So, welcome little Miss C-G. Welcome to this world. Welcome to this family. We will try to do our very best to create a world of beauty and kindness where you will know that you are loved and will be forever more.

Words are useless

I am in the midst of watching Joseph Campbell on DVD with Bill Moyers. He hits my greatest challenge of language right on the head. The things that are most important to us, the best things in life, those that transcend us can't be named. We are unable to talk about them. There are no words that can communicate what is a thought or feeling which is beyond our physical being. So when I attempt to write about feelings that run deep in my heart like the deep abiding love I have for my children or the passion I have for my profession, I am left wanting. When I talk about the more emotional events in my life, I often say, I don't have words for it yet. And I really don't. But I continue to attempt to define it. I have to learn to be content with saying, I don't have words for it. And now I can add, this is one my best things in life, it transcends both me and words.

Coming Together

It has been a bit of a rough fall for my children. There is no real beginning to the story; it just is. For several years they have been distant from one another. As a rule, we all came together for holidays but the rest of the year felt a bit like a void. As the mom, it was very difficult to witness. I love them both deeply; more than words could ever say. I understood each side of the story and ached for them both. As much as I love being a mom of adult children, at some point you can't mother anymore. You can't make your kids to talk to each other or apologize and say they're sorry. They're grown-ups with spouses who protect their great loves with the fervor that runs deeper than even a mother's love. Maria and Bill's baby announcement on Thanksgiving was thrilling and I loved being a part of it. But back in the recesses of my heart was a giant hole because it was the first Thanksgiving we had not all been together as a family. Things had come to a head and there appeared to be no turning back. It is always good for me to remember that despite the strength of a massive oak tree, given a powerful enough wind, it can still bend and break. The late days of November passed and a wind began to blow. Each of them put forth the effort and they came together. I don't know what was said by either of them and I don't need to know. The greatest gift that they could ever give has landed in my lap. They have both summarized it in the same way "I think it went well." My only response has been to finally breathe out all the worry that had accumulated around my heart and breathe in the possibility of being a family again.

I am simply thrilled that they sat together in a room and let down their respective walls allowing the deep wounds to be seen by one another. I just know too many people that have fought with siblings and died without reconciling. They lived their lives out to the end and most of them couldn't remember what the fight was all about. How sad. I didn't want that for my kids. And I didn't want to negotiate the mind fields of celebrating holidays and birthdays and births and deaths around a feud. A giant weight has been lifted from me. If I think about it very long I cry. I cry for what could have been lost; the chance for Dave to be once again loved unconditionally by his family. The chance for Maria and Bill to introduce their baby to her uncle Dave, who I know will fall madly in love with the little meatball the minute he sees her. The chance for us all to be a family again.

Christmas has come early. I need nothing more than this; but to see my children at the same table, eating and drinking together, smiling, laughing, and yes, even arguing - all the things that a brother and sister do to bind each to the other. I know that in my own life, my brother and sister have kept me grounded with the constant reminder of who I am and where I came from. We laugh about old memories and new, our parents, our kids and the trials that life can bring our way. I want that for my children; a love of their shared history as well as the joy of spending their futures together, side by side laughing and crying, knowing that life is better when we are together.

Thanksgiving

It feels very strange not cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year but the extra time allows me the time to think about the purpose behind the holiday, giving thanks.

Top 10

1. My family. I am grateful for each and everyone of them from my 101 year old grandfather to the grandchild who is on her way. They continue to guide me along this journey and through my joys and sorrows helping me become the best that I can be.

2. My friends. Many of my friends have become synonymous with family. They are the safe place where I can be who I really am with no concern of judgment.

3. My house. It is much more than a shelter; it is my refuge. In year 3 of the remodel, I still smile the minute I walk through the door every single day.

4. A job that renews me everyday where I am respected for all that I bring to the table be it strengths or challenges.

5. The ability to live in northern California where everything is beautiful every day of the year.

6. My dog, Jack who is the true embodiment of unconditional love.

7. My good health both physical and mental. I have felt a glimmer of my impending age and witnessed the pain of mental imbalance. My health is the #1 thing that I take for granted until it is lost.

8. Clean air and water on our beautiful planet Earth

9. Food, especially cheese and chocolate

10. Love from all those who have touched my life in little and giant ways teaching me over and over again that I am worthy of it.

Happy Thanksgiving!

A Wake Up Call

This week has been one of those when I have realized that I was put on this earth and placed on this path for a specific reason. I am here to support kids. Along the way I do a little teaching but it's really about supporting kids. That support comes in many shapes and sizes. Sometimes it's a little kick in the rear to jump start their academic career and make them realize it's all up to them now. Mom isn't here to hold your hand or help you figure out what you think or why you think it. It's your turn to stand up for what you believe. At other times that support looks a lot like counseling; questioning, giving choices, leading them to new ways of looking at the world. But most often that support looks a lot like mothering. Sometimes that's all we can do is just show these kids that they are loved for who they are and share the vision of who we believe that they can be.

I've said many times this year that my current team of students are quite a pleasure to teach. I personally believe that 99% of that is attributed to me having a sliver of an idea of how to go about teaching middle school English. Although it is an amazing group of kids there are several who are clearly in need of our loving support. There is one who definitely has issues with impulse control that has resulted in some academic issues. Then there is one with serious anger management challenges. We also have a little group of girls who have made some less than productive choices about attendance. Sometimes that's tardiness and others it's not showing up at all. Then there is the girl who challenged me on her class report card which has led to a much better relationship between the two of us. The magic potion on most days is simply a smile and greeting from me as she enters the room. There is the girl who was caught, in the words of the counselor, sucking face with a boy but evidently a little more than kissing was going on. I have a student whose mother thought I was humiliating her kid who I am just now beginning to soften up around. And now there is a student who following a call home thought he would get away with calling me a liar. Too bad about the invention of the speaker phone. We also have a student who I believe is clinically depressed who if left to his own devices would literally do nothing all day. And finally today was the revelation about a student who is living among drug sellers, according to rumor has a 19 year old boy friend and has been avoiding school.

Where do you put all this while going about the business of teaching the state standards of English Language Arts? This all comes before anything else. The smile, the how are you doing, the it's nice to see you today, the what do you need right now, the tap on the desk to reboot the brain. But what is more stunning than realizing that the face of illegal neighborhood drug sales and mental illlnes is sitting in my classroom is listening to the way that some other teachers respond to it. There are days that the hardest thing I do is have lunch in the faculty room. Kids are called names; lazy, slugs, rocks. They are ridiculed. They are kept from learning because of an over indulgence of punishment for a silly thing like chewing gum. I'm not sure how these teachers come to work everyday if they think so little of the students in the chairs. I am blessed to be working with a partner that is like minded. It could be a very lonely job without her.

So tonight while I am lying in bed as my brain unwinds and before I drift off to sleep I will "see " these kids in my mind and think once more about ways to support them, ways to give them what they need that they are not getting anywhere else. These are the faces of middle school students today; truancy, mental illness, illegal drugs, gangs, sexual behavior, language barriers. It is overwhelming on one hand but so simple on the other.

Joys in Life

On the 28th of November I will celebrate the anniversary of one of the greatest joys of my life, the birth of my daughter. Your first child is such an unbelievable experience. I didn't think anything could ever compare to the state of euphoria I felt. Then we took her home and the fun really began. Your heart sings with every new accomplishment. I'm talking about little things like a smile, or a turn of the head as she recognizes your voice, her outstretched arms as she reaches out for the first time. Being a mom was and still is the greatest thing I ever did. Then my baby grew up and I once again experienced that pure joy when I watched her get married. Those are tears that took me by utter surprise. I didn't realize how emotional it would be to watch your child promise herself to the man of her dreams. She had found her great love and was ready to begin her happy ever after. What more could you ask for?

And now here I am again experiencing joy I never saw coming. But this one will last a long long time. My baby is becoming a mama and I am constantly being taken by surprise with feelings of joy. Even though I knew every step of the journey I was still overcome with emotion when they made the announcement that there would be another C-G in the world. At the time I told her I couldn't wait to see her all round but I had no idea how true that would become. I love listening to her talk about the pregnancy, the baby, and the family they are becoming. I love just looking at her and marveling at the life she is creating. Every time I see her, she looks different so as we hug our farewells, I hold her just a little longer than I used to so I can hold on to the image, much like I did as she was growing up. I had no idea it would be so much fun to watch your daughter become pregnant and it has absolutely nothing to do with anything grandma related. It's all about her. I'm not sure I know what all of it is but I know there's something to sharing the stories of motherhood. It is a bond that women share that is hard to put into words. I just feel so lucky to be able to share it with my baby who is going to be such a wonderful mama. I can't imagine the emotions that will erupt the first time I see her holding their beautiful baby in her arms. That must be the greatest thing a mother can ever see, motherhood being passed on and knowing the joy that she is feeling because I have been her.

I've Got Opinions

People who see me at work every day and even some that see me on weekends know that I have been challenged by my reading intervention class this year. We had a meeting on Tuesday of all the intervention teachers with some very interesting results. We did all the ordinary things - group discussions about strengths and challenges, recording them on the chart, planning future units, talking about grading policies and time to meet in school teams. It sounds ordinary but I had a lot of ah ha moments. I tried to air them with the district guru but it didn't seem to go very far. She just told me to write a letter. The last time I wrote one of these letters, it was about the district's failure to close down a school during a horrendous storm and localized power outage. It took a while but eventually a mea culpa and apology was made. OK. You want a letter? Here it is... I doubt it will get any results but I sure do feel better now:)

Dear "Powers That Be,"

I would like to thank you both for the opportunity to be a part of the district implementation of Read 180. For a teacher, there is nothing like the feeling of knowing that you are involved in something that has the ability to change kids’ lives. It’s the reason we enter the teaching field in the first place and it sustains us throughout our careers.

On November 10, 2009 I attended a Read 180 meeting where we were given the time to sit down together and share our experiences, plan units, and meet in site based teams. It was an opportunity for the Read 180 teachers within our district to be able to discuss with each other our successes and challenges. This being the first year of implementation, there have been many hurdles to overcome. I have appreciated the support at both the local and district level.

Read 180 has not been my first experience with reading intervention programs. My introduction to the educational profession was as a first grade teacher where the teaching of reading is paramount. It wasn’t long before I began searching for a reading intervention and became involved in developing a first grade program for the Diocese of San Jose. So when the opportunity to be a part of a secondary reading intervention presented itself, I couldn’t resist. Part of that was curiosity about what a middle school reading intervention would look like and part of it was the desire to be involved in something life changing.

My experience with Read 180 has had its ups and downs. The greatest difficulty for my students and me has been time. Buchser has attempted to keep all the pieces in place in order to make a difference in our students’ lives. The pieces are many; scheduling a balanced academic curriculum for each student, maintaining the students in a regular English Language Arts class and somehow finding the time in the day to allocate for Read 180. The result has been that students are in a 50-minute ELA class as well as 70 minutes of Read 180.

With this in mind, I must admit that I learned a lot at the district meeting. I was surprised to discover the variety of ways that Read 180 has been and will be implemented throughout the district. While I understand the necessity of site based decision making and the importance of a program that fits the needs of the students it serves, we have announced to our communities that we are teaching Read 180. That title means something. Anyone with Internet access will quickly discover from the Scholastic website that Read 180 is a 90 minute daily reading intervention. They back this up with research and a variety of ways to get to 90 minutes but the options all total 90. The reality is that within our district there are a variety of ways Read 180 is being taught. Some schools have replaced their ELA class with Read 180 but others have kept their ELA program in tact while trying to piece together minutes in a day that will come close to but not quite add up to 90. The result cannot help but be two very different experiences for the students and teachers alike.

If we as a district truly hope to close the achievement gap for these students, instruction in an ELA class in addition to the intervention is a piece that cannot be compromised. Research has shown time after time that successful interventions are a result of best teaching practices in a language arts class in addition to an intervention class. We know this. This is true of Reading Recovery, as well as our own RIS program and Soar to Success. It is tempting to think that Read 180 can do it all but the mathematical truth is that the growth a student will make in a year’s time in a 90 minute class cannot compare with that made in a 50 minute ELA class in addition to the 90 minute intervention.

What may appear to be a time issue, under closer investigation, quickly becomes a money issue. The elementary reading interventions in our district have been successful for two reasons, teachers were hired for the distinct purpose to work with students and classroom teachers and additional time has been dedicated to reading instruction. The reason middle schools are making choices that dilute the 90-minute Read 180 intervention program is that additional teachers have not been funded for the distinct purpose of teaching the intervention class. Money and time are the two variables in education that cannot be ignored. We cannot substitute 140 minutes of daily instruction in an ELA and intervention class for either a 90-minute stand-alone intervention or 120 minutes of an ELA and a compromised intervention class. Likewise, we can’t schedule an extra class for a teacher without affecting the rest of the school’s master schedule. There appears to be no other recourse than to hire teachers for the dedicated purpose of teaching the reading intervention class.

Reading interventions are by their very nature investments in both time and money. But more than that, they are an investment in our students’ futures. Teacher positions need to be funded for the purpose of this reading intervention so that the Read 180 program can be incorporated according to its design. I would love the opportunity to be a part of implementing a reading and writing curriculum that includes best teaching practices in both an ELA class as well as a 90-minute intervention class. I am hopeful that after analyzing the results of this first year of our secondary reading intervention, that we as a district will dedicate both the time and money necessary to give our students the best future possible.

Are these as funny to other people as they are to teachers?

How to fail a test with dignity:

Student Report Cards

I have had one of the most interesting experiences of my career this week. My partner teacher does an activity with our students where they grade their classes. They give each class a letter grade and write a comment about how it is going for them. The comments have been fascinating to read, think about and discuss with the authors. We are all about being the best teachers we can be for each one of our students. Our job is to create a successful learning experience for each and every one of them, without concern for their specific abilities or attitudes. This is one of the greatest avenues possible for making that a reality. The comments had a very wide range. They went from "You're great" to "I love the stories about your dog" to "Thinking about what to write is hard but I've never been good at writing anyway" to "You talk too fast" to "I need you to check in with me." There were two that really challenged me; one could not back up his attack so it has been negated in my mind but the other one definitely called it as she saw it. Our conversation was one of the most frank discussions I've ever had with a student. The fallout is that I am much more aware of her needs. I look for her eye contact when directions on being given and know that is making me much more efficient. There is no longer the need to answer the endless stream of questions that quickly irritate me and make me appear "impatient" and "strict." The end result of this activity is that the connection to our students is better than ever. They know we really do care what they think and are willing to make changes in individual relationships so that everyone can be successful.

Mission Accomplished

From the very beginning of my teaching career, making it to Halloween has always been an accomplishment. In the early days of first grade, it took that long for kids to get down the routines and for me to have a handle on who the characters would be. It also meant that I had gotten past parent conferences and survived Halloween itself. And that was no small feat when dealing with 6 year olds and sugar was involved. The years have past and I have moved up the grades until I find myself dealing with not 6 year olds but 6th graders. Halloween however remains my signpost that now all will be well. This year is no exception. I have taken on the challenge of teaching a reading intervention class in addition to developing a 6th grade reading curriculum. I am not unhappy about either of these, it is just a challenge. Despite the extra time and energy I need to remind myself that I am much happier being immersed in reading and writing than I was last year in writing and social studies. I am grounded once again in my love of language.

Today was the school world's celebration of Halloween. It was fascinating on so many levels. First is the costumes. Everyone should at one time in their life be on a middle school campus for Halloween. It's just fun. The personalities or perhaps their wished for personalities come out as big as life. They are just happy to be alive. And yet they are still able to conduct themselves in an academic manner. I don't do many videos in my classroom but I do try to incorporate the holiday into learning activities. You can't really ignore it when they walk in with big hats or wings or flapping capes.

I was also reminded today of one of the silly reasons I love middle school; the kids who are there leave and a new group comes in every hour. Today my partner and I switched things around so she could go to her daughter's school Halloween parade. The result was that I had the same group of kids for 3 periods - more than half my day. I did my best to smile and greet them with enthusiasm each time but I was reminded of my elementary experience of having the same kids all day long. There wasn't anything wrong with it at the time, but after being in middle school I have discovered that I like the change throughout the day.

So here we are at another Halloween, the crossroads of the school year. The worst is over and is a memory and the best is yet to come.

Fluctuating Standards

The Reading Intervention class has had an interesting effect on my usually solid standards of behavioral expectations. If principals from my past could observe me in the READ 180 classroom, they would need additional proof that the woman in front of the classroom is actually me. I am now in the business of making all kinds of deals to get kids to do what they need to do. I have become more flexible than I ever imagined possible. And, yes, it is beginning to produce effects. I suppose the primary one is that these kids are finally starting to believe that I care, that I'm not going anywhere, and that I will do anything for student success. The curriculum has become more predictable for them so they now know what is coming as we work our way through each unit. I still have a couple student challenges to overcome and I cannot predict the way it will all fall out when it's over. They will either be gone and replaced with other Far Below Basic students with a better attitude about life or we will continue this dance of making deals, enduring consequences, and making more deals. It is exhausting and stressful just thinking about what those two boys have in store for me on a day to day basis. I can let it go after second period but I seem to relive it every night before falling asleep. Sometimes I try it with a different ending just to get myself reading for the next day. The next morning I am able to put it on the back burner until I am heading out the door for the Read 180 classroom. Then the stress finds a home in my shoulders and I try to prepare for what lies ahead. If only I could figure out what that was before it hit me smack between the eyes. This week my most challenging student said to me, "I'll just do the rotation. I don't want to cause problems for you." WHAT? I was absolutely stunned. And then the other shoe dropped. He suggested that he might like to go to SSR to work on the class Red Ribbon Week poster. So we made our deal. He did his small group and computer work and I sent him off with a smile. We were both very happy with the results of the deal. But when asked what his plans were for the next day, he was very non-committal. So this was not the win that I thought it was. We'll just see what tomorrow brings.

The Reason People Leave Teaching

This morning I came in early to work to get a jump on next week. Instead I was confronted with a letter written by a parent to the vice principal. This letter was a scathing attack on me with a claim that I had been physical with her son on two occasions, that I was biased and had humiliated him in front of his peers. I was absolutely stunned. I have gone from shock to hurt to anger. The letter has settled in my stomach feeling like a solid punch that could take me out at any moment. It was in the middle stage of hurt that I had the great ah ha. Yes, this is why people leave the teaching profession. We pour our heart and soul into everything we do from planning to delivery to assessment and the public has nothing but criticism and wild accusations.

My next thought was that this was something that could easily go to the next level. Before you knew it, I could be left without a credential or job. I am blessed to be working for an amazing administration who know me well and understand the craziness of pre-adolescents and their parents. Nonetheless, I am left stunned by it all.

Attitude is Everything

Yesterday was the day I had been waiting for all year. It was the day determined by the district that the reading intervention program would give the first retest to determine progress made. I couldn't wait to see the look of happiness and pride when these students realized that with time and effort you could actually quantify learning. The first few students looked good. There was an increase 30-50 lexile points. Nice. I was hoping for more but this was a step in the right direction. Then things took a turn for the worse. The next few scores came out LOWER. And then it kept happening over and over again. By the end of the period 10 students improved and 10 went the other way. Thank God that 4 of them were absent. This is why I walked away from special education. I can't handle not believing that what I do makes a difference. But numbers don't lie, do they? So the end of class was an opportunity for them to think about the reason for their scores. My downward readers all said things about not really trying, guessing, not reading the whole passage, and not caring. How do I as a teacher MAKE students care about their own education and future? Maybe there is some illiterate teenager out there that could come give them a wake up call. It is clear that what I am saying and doing is having little effect. I am grateful to have the weekend to recover. Monday, there will be 10 students retaking the test with a hopefully improved attitude.

Acting Like I Care

I have been struggling the past couple weeks to keep my stamina up to last through the day. My reading intervention class still challenges me in the management department. They are just totally exhausting every minute of the 75 that I have them. I have begun to notice that by the time I get the second half of our team 5th and 6th periods, that there just isn't much of me left to give. I am trying out a little Love and Logic and it does seem to be helping but today I had to just give it up and take to the stage. As I walked to the door to greet them I knew I was going to have to dig down deep so I just pretended to be an actress who had nothing but energy and enthusiasm. I don't know where the energy reserve comes from in teachers when there isn't any left but sure enough, there it was. This was second draft day for our memoir unit. So I stood in front of the class and in my most exciting voice announced that this was the day they had been waiting for. And by golly, they believed it was. I love watching the reflection of my smile and energy coming back to me on their faces. But the truth is that I really am tired. It must be time for my annual blood test to check that darn thyroid. But for now I will just put away the character descriptions that need to be graded and go to bed. Hooray for Friday!

Old Fashioned Phones

Today was my turn to hold Homework Club in my room after school. One of the students had become confused about the location and wanted to call his dad to tell him where to pick him up. I suggested dismissing him a minute early so he could walk over to his classroom and meet his dad there but he wanted none of that. No, he couldn't waste a minute of homework club! So he whipped out his cell phone to call him. One look from me told him that it was too early for cell phone use. I pointed to the classroom phone on the wall and he said, "Oh no, Ms. Allen, my dad doesn't answer those kinds of phones." I started to explain that the age of the phone used to dial had nothing to do with the number dialed but just laughed instead. Yes, I still love 6th graders!

People We Put on the Shelf

This is a phrase I have used for many years inside my head. It has come to mean the family members or friends that we basically put on hold. It happens for a variety of reasons. Perhaps a family member continues to say the same thing over and over agian and only sees one facet of our being. Or maybe a friend can only see us serving a single purpose. You are my mom. You tell stories about my past and give advice about how to take the next step in life. You are my friend.I tell you about my problems and you listen. I don't listen to your problems; you listen to mine. When we put our friends and family members on a shelf a dangerous thing happens. We define who they are and their role in life and they remain in that position "forever." They are stuck in time. I have done it to friends and family and it has been done to me. Sometimes it happens as a result of the business of our lives and we just get in the habit of life without them. Sometimes it is purposeful because it is just too difficult to continue the relationship in the state it is in. It seems to have happened a lot in my family and I still have no idea of how to fix it. That's because people can't be fixed. We are who we are, a constant work in process. Every day changes who I am and who I am becoming. I meet new people and they change my perspective on my life and my history. I am a reflector so the meaning I put on an event is in a constant state of flux. Part of that is the recognition that time dulls pain and I cannot evaluate all sides of a relationship when there is pain at its core. So as I get distance from a difficult conversation with a friend or family member I can put it where it belongs. I am on a shelf. It doesn't mean that I'm not loved. It is simply the only way that that relationship can continue without ending. The question is how does one know if it would actually be better for everyone involved to stop. Stop playing at a relationship. Stop pretending. Stop hurting. I don't know. I just take each day as it comes and accept the gifts that are given and hope that at the end of the journey it will all be made clear.

Peopl We Put on the Shelf

People We Put on the Shelf
This is a phrase I have used for many years inside my head. It has come to mean the family members or friends that have put me on hold. It happens for a variety of reasons. Perhaps a family member continues to say the same thing over and over again and only sees us as one thing. Or maybe a friend can only see us as one version of who we are. You are my mom. You only give advice about how to take the next step in life. You are my friend.I tell you about my problems and you listen. I don't listen to your problems; you listen to mine. When we put our friends and family members on a shelf two things happen.. We define who they are and their purpose in life and they remain in that position "forever." I have done it to friends and family and it has been done to me. I am always aware of its power and pain. And when I am on the receiving end it always leads to reflection on why this is happening and am I willing to accept it. It is up to me to change the relationship so that I am not defined by our past interchanges. I need to shout from the rooftops "The me you see is not the me I am." Adjust, adapt or just leave me alone.

Observations of a Sunday Walk Through San Jose

I love to walk. It slows me down and puts everything in perspective. But today I took part in my first half marathon walk. That's quite some walk - 13.1 miles. I'm really not sure that I will ever do it again but I am really glad that I was finally healthy enough to do it once. It's been a goal of mine for a couple years and sometimes it's good just to meet a goal and say "I did that." I'm really not competitive. I could care less what other people are doing but I do challenge myself to constantly do things better and faster. My #1 goal was to finish the "race." My #2 goal was to maintain a 15 minute mile rate. That would mean I should finish in 3 hours and 15 minutes. So when I registered I put myself in the 3:30 category - just in case. My finishing time was 3:13 so I am very pleased with myself. But along the way I saw all kinds of things and did some interesting thinking. Here is a smattering of the inner workings of my brain:

I am confused by how people rate themselves for events like this. At different times of the day I was walking alongside of people in corrals 12 (mine), 13, 10, 8, 6 and even a 5.

It is good to have medical care along the route but I was disturbed when I actually saw people using it - laying on gurneys or inside of ambulances. The ambulance drivers were careful not to turn on their sirens until they had passed the runners.

I am a new fan of Gu. I tried it for the first time just before I reached the 10 mile mark. What a boost at just the right time. Maybe I should keep a supply at school to get me through the day.

I think my race is really the 15K. A 5K is too short: I still have something left after a 10K but by the time I reached the 15K marker I could have been ready to stop. Unfortunately a half marathon is more than a 20K. So I can safely say I gave it my all today.

I was deeply amused to see people texting while jogging. I would never be able to multi task in that way.

I loved seeing all the different ways that people cheered us on: cow bells, drums, inflated bats, cheering (complete with pom poms) and what they were drinking. As we walked east they were drinking coffee but as we neared the rose garden area the beverages changed to mimosas. One person was even selling them for $1. I can't say that I wasn't tempted:)

I was fascinated by the route. We started downtown, wound our way down Jackson St and into Japan town, through the rose garden and into the Kaiser track and back into the Rose Garden and downtown again. The houses and people living in each area were very differnt. We are a diverse population. I was amused at how most people dressed in their work out gear to watch others work out.

We also walked by lots of dogs who looked desperate to walk with any one of us. But all they were allowed to do was watch. Poor doggies.

I am definitely glad I did it. 3 hours is a long time to walk. Thank goodness for bands and iPods and other diversions.

News Headlines

I had a huge AH HA! moment this morning. On the front page of the Mercury News was a story about the effects of divorce on a young family. Now, it is rare that I can pass up a good divorce story, just because. I read the headline and then slipped over to the photo captions and immediately recognized the last name as that of a Sutter family. As it was an extremely rare name it definitely caught my attention. I read on and realized that, yes, indeed it was our Sutter family. So there was this child and her parents along with her younger sister splashed all over the front page of the newspaper. Hmmm... what is it like for a 10 year old to read the dirty laundry of her parents' courtship, difficulty conceiving, couples theapy, affair or not an affair depending on who you talk to and ending with the details and $,$$$ spent on lawyers, child support and alimony. It bares to question, what were these parents thinking when they agreed to do a piece for the newspaper? Did they know that pictures of the mom and her two kids were be in living color on the FRONT page? Did Dad know that the claim he made about being nothing but a baby machine would be in print for his babies to read and reread for all of eternity? What were they thinking?

This of course led me to synthesize this article to all other human interest articles I am drawn to. I just love "train wrecks" and in all honesty read more of those articles than the news in Iraq, Iran, Samoa or North Korea combined. These articles are all about real people who live in real homes and are trying to do the best they can for their families. They all go to school somewhere and have friends whose parents read that paper and say, "Isn't that your friend so-and-so who's in your class?" Yeah. What is that like for a 6 and 10 year old child who are just trying to learn to read and add or subtract or write a decent essay?

I am sorry. I am sorry for my curiosity. I am sorry for the desperation that leads people to use the newspaper as a friend that will listen to their side of the story. I am sorry for these broken families and their children that must somehow now find their way in the world.

Friday Update

Computer: Today I walked back in my room after Read 180 and discovered that my computer was on. Yahoo! It's back! My new computer is back! I went to check my school mail account to see everything I had missed so far in the day but something was very wrong. The latest mail available was dated August 31st. As I investigated further I discovered that was not my new computer; it was my old computer. Luckily my "savior" helped me solve the mail problem and I slowly adjusted to being grateful for my old friend being back once again.

Student Guidelines for words Ms. Allen doesn't like to read: Please add to the list suck, sucks and sucked. When asked if they knew sucks is a "bad" word they were all stunned beyond comment. I can't wait to have breakfast with my friend, the 5th grade teacher this weekend and ask what in the world is going on in elementary school writing workshop!

An Announcement I Never Thought That I'd Make

The world may need a little background information on this one. We have been working on envisioning in reading and sensory images in writing. A few of my young authors have gotten a little carried away in trying to make their olfactory images come to life for their "reader."

Teacher announcement made today:
Ladies and Gentlemen,
I'm not sure if you understand this or not but the audience you write for in this classroom is ME. I am a 55 year old woman who lives a very simple life in a nice little house with her dog. Even though I love teaching 6th graders, I am not one of your friends and I am not amused by 6th grade humor. I don't like reading about barf and poo. Up until this moment I have been writing comments on your papers about these words being inappropriate and you have been asked to redo the assignment. Let me just say here and now from this point forward, I do not expect to see anyone use either of those words or topics ever again. Are there any questions? Good.

Erase That Happy Thought From Yesterday

I would like to rescind all my happiness about my new computer. I came into work this morning eager to get started with my day AND my new computer. I turned it on and it went totally berserk. It just started loading documents and Internet Explorer until it knocked itself out. I'm talking hundreds of them. There were all kinds of flashing lights. It tried to find and resolve its problem with no luck at all. By 7:15 I was utterly despondent. I don't think I have ever been that sad about a material object in my life. It is a lesson learned about the transientness of happiness and the yin and yang of our existence.

The Little Things in Life

I knew it was coming but I was still so excited to be the recipient of a new teacher computer today. We somehow kept the old one functioning over the past few weeks. And I am lucky enough to have people who care about me and my life at school that I ended up on the short list of new computer recipients. There is just a feeling of respect that comes along with new "toys." So thank you to everyone out there who made it happen. I am a happy Bobcat!

Passing Back Papers

Most of the time I don't really like passing back corrected papers. But it occurred to me this morning that there are a couple reasons I take on that responsibility in the beginning of the year. The #1 reason is that the kids don't know everybody yet and it takes them forever as they wander aimlessly around the room looking for the kid that matches the name on the paper. But I was reminded of the other reason this morning. For some reason 6th graders come to middle school with a very unrealistic view of their writing skills. They all think they are horrible writers and are shocked to see papers with As or Bs on them. Now part of that is because it is the first time they have gotten letter grades. As important as teaching the standards are, the elementary standards based report card just doesn't connect with kids. Getting a 4 cannot compare to the status of an A. Last year my kids HATED writing and I spent the first couple months of school showing them it can be fun. This group definitely came in with a better attitude and now that letter grades are flying around the room are loving it even more. My favorite part as I crusie by, dropping off a table load of papers is the sucking in of air that seems almost instinctual followed by the long sigh and the comment, "I got an A. I can't believe it." I don't give grades and my kids know it. So the smile and little wiggle in their chair as they sit a little taller is just so cute. I'm about ready to pass on the paper responsibility to the students but I have to admit it did bring a little burst of happiness to my day.

First Sub Day

Yesterday was my first sub day of the year. Sub plans has always been one of those things on my "Why I Love Middle School" list. It still is but I had a huge AH HA about choosing a sub this year for my Read 180 class. These are not typical middle school students. Many of them are not fluent in English, most have been failing for a long, long time and don't really like school. So I guess it takes a special someone to handle my little darlings. I wasn't ready to leave them with a sub because we were just beginning to have a shared focus. So I told my sub I would be there and she could just monitor independent readers or just hang out and watch the program. She responded by telling me that she wasreally interested in tutoring adolescent readers and would love to be there. So 2nd period rolls around with no sub. I start teaching and she comes in and plops down at the small group table. Once rotations begin, I tell her that she can go read with anyone in the independent reading area. She takes off and as I'm beginning my small group lesson, I see her approach a couple kids but I don't see any reading going on. She slinks back to my table and says, "I don't think they want me here" and left the classroom. Oh if life could be that easy and we could just leave when they don't want us.

Taking a Fall

I have never been in the least bit graceful. I walk everyday and everyday I stumble and almost fall. It was only a matter of time before I was unable to recover and actually hit the deck. Yesterday, on my way to walk with a friend, I tripped over an uneven piece of sidewalk and was unable to catch myself. I actually felt more coordinated going down than I ever imagined I would. But the end result was a scraped up knee and a very sore wrist. I had a very restless night but made it through the day today without too much pain. The wrist is loosening up a bit and the knee is beginning to heal. This is another one of those reminders of how quickly life can make a turn and change for the worse. I could easily have broken a bone in my hand, arm or leg. So I continue to walk but am just a tad bit more careful and looking down more often than out. The hesitancy will pass but for now I am giving thanks for my gifts and wounds that will heal when given enough time.

A Long Time Between Posts

It has been a long time since I have updated my blog. I have no excuses, reasons or explanations beyond the simple fact that the beginning of school is an extremely busy time.

I am loving teaching reading and writing to my darling little 6th graders as well as my intervention class. It has been quite a venture being involved in the start up of a brand new middle school program. I have no doubt that I was placed at Buchser to be doing exactly what I am doing. It is the culmination of my teaching experience all put to its best possible use - primary reading instruction, special education and middle school all rolled together into one. However, the materials and technology set backs have been many. I am hopeful that by next week everything will be purchased, installed and in the hands of students and I can stop my weekly and sometimes daily e-mails to the powers that be.

Another challenge in my school life has been a down computer in my classroom. I guess for other teachers this wouldn't have been a problem but I have recently learned that I am one of the rare teachers that only has one computer in her classroom. So for 6 school days I only had access to a computer while I was in the READ 180 room. I was definitely more efficient both as a classroom teacher and when I was on line. In the classroom there were no distractions in dealing with e-mails between classes but it was also a struggle to handle the day to day things upon which we depend on technology. It meant doing attendance on paper and sending a student to the attendance office within the first 10 minutes of class. I also became aware of how many times during the day we say "Did you see that e-mail from ___ about ___? There were even times when I would tell someone something and s/he would say, "Could you send me an e-mail about that?" But the positive side was that my focus was entirely on those 32 kids in the classroom and not on attendance, or on-line grades, or e-mails to remind me of upcoming events or meetings or information about absent kids. I was just teaching.

We are in our third week of school and it is about now when I begin to surface again. My grades are up to date, I have given the first writing assessment and have a pretty good idea of where my readers are. I know everyone's name and can even recognize them when they are in the quad and not in their assigned seat. But thinking back on the past few weeks is a little shocking. So, here are some of things that go on in the opening weeks of school:
August 24th - First day of school
August 26th - Team Meeting
August 27th - School Walk-a-thon followed by locker assignments
September 2 - Grade level meeting followed by a Faculty Meeting
September 3 - Back to School Night
September 9 - Team Meeting
September 10 - Google Calendar Training followed by READ 180 Meeting
September 15 - Picture Day
September 16 - Department Meeting
September 18 - 6th Grade Social

As I so often like to say, "Yikes."

Day One, Year Two

Before beginning the writing of this post, I thought it would be interesting to see how my feelings today compare with those of a year ago. As I searched the archives I sadly discovered there is no history. I didn't come back to my blog until mid November. Well, that says a lot about where I was last year at this moment.

So I will just start at the beginning. This is my second year of middle school and it feels so much better than my memories of 2008. I remember not sleeping for days and having horrible dreams of ill mannered juvenile delinquents who I had no idea of how to manage. In contrast, this year I have to admit that while I have lost some sleep over worries of starting a new year, there have been no weird dreams. I would just wake up and pre-play the first day. And before you know it, there was enough daylight that I could legitimately get up and make my coffee to start the day.

Day 1 finally arrived and I was as prepared as I wanted to be. I could have spend the whole weekend obsessing over tiny little details but knew that would not be healthy for me or anyone else in the classroom. I puttered around my room this morning until it was time for yard duty and went out to welcome a new crop. I was taken by surprise at how happy I was to see my now 7th grade students and my old friends from Sutter. It is that feeling of home that always brings my feet back to the ground. I constantly forget how important it is for me to be known.

What a difference a year makes! Last year I had so little knowledge of what I was doing. It was about all I could do to just to keep breathing. Fast forward to this year. I was totally shocked to see that deer in the headlights look from almost every student in my classroom until after lunch. Few of them made eye contact with anyone, let alone the teacher. Only the 3 Sutter kids who had me before even came close to laughing at my lighter comments. The poor things. The afternoon was a little better and I'm hopeful that after a good night's sleep these kids will remember Ms. Allen's words. Today is the worst of it. It's all downhill from here.

A New Beginning

One of the things I love most about my job is that every fall brings a new beginning. It's like renegotiating your contract and saying "Yes! I want to do that again!" That's how I'm feeling today but more so. I have to contain myself not to shout out how excited I am about going back to school. It's not socially acceptable to be excited about the first day of school but in all honesty, that's who I am as a teacher.

Summer school is now a distant memory. My vacation to Washington was very nice. But I am all about being HOME and am deeply defined by my profession. It is time to begin anew once again.

Yesterday was my first day back which meant I was very distracted. There were people to say Hi to, summer school stuff that needed putting away, desks to move into position and a second classroom to prepare. I will be teaching a reading intervention class this year which needs its own room so special ed and ELL can also use the materials. I now lovingly call B-10 my annex. It was a long day but I was a little more focused by the time it was over.

Today when I returned I knew I had to get the paper up on the walls and start some lesson planning. Late this afternoon, I pulled out my "Beginning of the Year" folder and was overwhelmed with feelings of last year. I had no idea what I was doing but I had lists of talking points (which I believe came from my partner teacher) and getting to know you activities, most of which I never used. The past 2 days have been a huge AH HA of how little I knew just a year ago. I am overcome with how much calmer I feel going in to my second year of middle school. I know lots of people whom I had never even met at this time a year ago. Meeting new people is a huge challenge for me so the sense of familiarity makes me feel instantly at home. I know the writing curriculum and how I want to tweak it to make it better this year. But the biggest piece of the puzzle is the fact that I am once again teaching reading. I think it's much more emotional than academic. I am a reading teacher. It's where I started and to some extent defines who I am as a teacher. The things we read change what we think about the world and who we become. The deep conversations that go on in the classroom occur as a result of our shared reading experiences and what we think about them.

There's a tiny piece of me that just can't wait for Monday morning. But I also know that on Monday morning I will be nauseous and wishing the introductions and getting to know you stage was over and learning had already begun.

Mystified

I have made a few comments here and there about one of my student teachers from Summer School. I won't belabor the point of how surprised I have been by how it has all turned out. I remain mystified and a bit humbled that every now and then our first impressions can be way off course. Today she gave me a thank you note and I have to say she was clearly paying attention

"Thank you so much for allowing me to be apart of your classroom this summer. I have enjoyed the past 5 weeks and learned more than I thought possible. I especially appreciated your use of positive reinforcement and loved seeing the students respond to your encouragement. I will miss your ability to see the potential in every student, but I hope to carry this outlook into my other classrooms."

Wow...

Week Number Five - The End

Summer school 2009 is now history and so today a breathe a huge sigh of relieve. The end is always anticlimactic because so many kids don't bother to show up but nonetheless I am thrilled to be done with it. It wasn't as bad as I often thought it was but I still don't want to do it again. I'm tired. It's just as simple as that. The money is good - no doubt of that - but it is all just so exhausting. I'm not the kind of teacher that can take anything lightly. I lose as much sleep over summer school kids and lesson plan as I do during the regular school year. I just can't shut it off. And that is no way to spend a summer vacation. But I have to admit I have grown and learned many new things as a result of my summer school experiences.
1. Sometimes my first impressions of people can be a little off. I had a student teacher who I would have bet money on the fact that she didn't think I knew jack about teaching. I was dead wrong. I still don't think she fully comprehended everything she was seeing but the girl was just hungry for more. Her questions weren't necessarily questioning me, they were just questions.
2. It is still hard for me to give up control of the classroom but I definitely improved in that department this summer. I allowed student teachers to dig in without my intervention and resentment did not rear its ugly head. That is definitely a step in the right direction.
3. I saw great growth in several kids that I kind of thought were players. Patience and maintaining eye contact for ungodly long periods of time can be very effective.
4. The very most important thing a student can do to begin a successful career is to show up and pay attention. That's it. That's all it takes. The brain will do the rest automatically.
5. I truly had no idea how much I have missed teaching reading. I LOVE the deep conversations that come about because of stories and the way people share who they are through those conversations.
6. I continue to learn how to make connections for kids between the school world and the real one. One of my best lessons this summer was convincing my students that they are the main characters in the story of their own lives. It was a powerful way to link to their new identities as middle school students. Every day we decide who we are projecting to the outside world. This is still a life lesson for me. Who am I? Would the people who know and love me answer that question the way I do? If not, I need to reintroduce my "character" to my readers.
7. Afternoon naps are amazing. I'm quite sure I would have ended up in a heap without them.

And now I think that is just what I will do - go take a nap.

An Awareness of Aging

I am aging. This is something that has been playing on my mind this summer. I'm not old. I just feel myself changing. Living in the moment forces you to see things and feel things that you might ignore otherwise. I now notice changes in my body; new lines, aches and pains, gravity taking its toll. Actually, this is probably a change for the better. In years past I would ignore those aches and pains, truly believing that my body would heal itself and there was no need for intervention. My first bout with tendonitis a couple years ago taught me differently. And it seems lately there has been one reminder after another. The past school year I had some weird foot thing, a frozen shoulder and shingles. That's a lot in a very short period of time.

I revel in everything I am still able to do but I also know it could very well be transient. Walking the Wharf to Wharf reminded me that I am still able to maintain a 15 minute mile for a distance of 6 miles. On the other hand, my very own sister who is only slightly older than I am, is having a hip replacement next week. How is it that we are old enough for such things? This is by no means the end of the world; it is just an awareness of aging. I'm not sad or upset or depressed - just aware.

The flip side is senior discounts. On two occasions this month I have been made aware of senior discounts for those who are 55 and older. The first time I was too afraid to ask for it; I figured they would card me but the second time I told them I would be 55 in 2 weeks... No dice. It must be about time for my gray hair to stop playing around and get serious.

As I turn 55 this week I am also aware that it is a midpoint of sorts. I have loved my 40s and 50s but I'm a little wary of the upcoming 60s. 60 just sounds older to me - the age of retirement, social security and medicare. I, of course, look forward to all of these things but they are symbols of growing old in our society. So it has taken me aback to realize that in just 5 short years, I will be 60 something.

While I am a strong believer that age is an attitude, there are some very real things that accompany it that can not be denied. I sleep less than I did a year or so ago. I tire in the garden more easily. There are pains that must be dealt with. I am simply aware of a change in the air. However, you can be assured that this does nothing to diminish the enthusiasm I have always had for my birthday. I still think it's the best day of the whole darn year.

Week Number Four

The end is near. We are down to 4 days of summer school. That is only 18 hours of contract time and 16 hours of face time! But who's counting? Week number four definitely had its highs and lows. The kids found their rhythm and seemed much more aware of their end of the responsibility of the learning game. Show up and tune in. It's as easy as that. But part of the reason for them finding their rhythm is me bringing the hammer down. No, we don't throw erasers. We respect things that have been GIVEN to us to use. No we don't write nasty comments on other people's name tags. That is rude and disrespectful. The erasers are now being closely monitored and the name tags are currently being recycled into another piece of paper somewhere. So maybe starting the day with basic expectations makes for a better learning atmosphere. I just don't like wasting my time on general behavior that is a given by the time you hit middle school. But you gotta do what you gotta do. The end result is that the writing was more fluent, there were new voices in the room and the unit is feeling connected.

The student teachers and I had our assessment conferences today. That is where I tell them my observations and opinions of their work in the educational profession thus far, according to the teaching standards. Yes, we have standards too. Last year these conferences occurred on the last day so I didn't have to worry about them stalking me down a dark alley in the dead of night to get retribution. I had to watch my words this year since we still have another week together. But it turns out I had nothing to fear. The refreshing part is that each of them was already aware of the challenges which I addressed. I stayed after our meetings and wrote up the reports so now all that is left is the students' End of Session Progress Reports. I think I'll put them off for a day or so.