Coffee With Chloe

Counting the Days....

2012-03-06T04:40:00.000-08:00

My speech season is almost over. Saturday is our state contest. Once contest is over, I will have much more free time. The poem below contains references to pieces my students are performing this year...

5 Days and Counting
Arriving before most
Leaving long after the others.

5 Days and Counting
"Caps, Caps for Sale"
and
"I'm too young to have the ears of a rabbit."

5 Days and Counting
Do Not Go Gently Hazel and Gus
and
Tiny's voice of love

5 Days and Counting
"MacBeth shall sleep no more "
and
"Cause we're Tuesday people"

5 Days and Counting
Kids popping in during classes
and
The room that is never empty

5 Days and Counting
Laughter
Political conversations
Laughter
My kids

240 days and counting....

Will Write for Comments

2012-03-05T05:11:00.000-08:00

I remember my first post in last year's Slice of Life Writing challenge well. Terrified, I clicked "post" and waited. Would anyone comment? Would anyone even read it?

I waited.

And comments came. They meant so much to me. Validation, if you will, of what I was doing. Each day, each comment gave me courage to write and share the next day.

And I learned the power of positive words.

Sometimes, I forget that when I'm reading student pieces. I try to get them back quickly. I get so busy trying to "assign" a responsible, accurate grade for what the student has written, that I forget each of us have included a piece of our soul in our writing. And that needs validation.

So I am trying to slow down. Trying to give thoughtful, connecting responses to each and every piece as I read it. I am trying to remember to highlight those little thoughts and phrases that I really like.

And a smiley face just won't do the job.

Celebrating

2012-03-04T06:09:00.001-08:00

My freshmen hate to read. Really. Hate. To. Read.

Books suck. Books are boring. Books are a waste of time.
They feel the same way about writing, but that's another post

So, I did what any book loving nerd would do. I ordered great new books. Pulled great old books off the shelf and started a young adult novel unit. I, of course, was met with groans.

"What? I have to read this is 15 days! I'll never finish it by then." This student had proudly proclaimed they had never read an entire book.

"I hate to read." Yea, 'cause I didn't get that from all the whining you have done every time I tell you to pull out a book.

"Do you have anything short?"

"Do we have to read again today?" Yep. Every day for fifteen days.

But

Slowly. Ever so slowly. The voices are changing their tune.

"Do we get to read today?" What?

"Hey. That book looks good. What's it about?" You're talking about books?????

"Can I read that book when she's done with it?"

"Are we going to do this again?" Really? You want to read another book?

Could it be I'll make readers out of them yet?

Recalculating

2012-03-03T05:40:00.002-08:00

Two years ago, I bought my husband a Garmin for Christmas. I don't understand why he wanted a GPS. I think he just wanted a new toy because everyone else had them. But, I bought it for him anyway.

First of all, he can't program it. Why? Because he always drives, so I always program it. I put in the addresses. I listen to the voice give directions.

Recalculating.

Secondly, he thinks "she's" wrong most of the time. No matter where we are, no matter what "she" says, his response is either, "That can't be right!" or "I'm taking this road instead."

Recalculating.

Friday night we packed up after school and headed about two and a half hours north for a visit with old friends. We've been there several times and actually know where we are going (for the most part). But Greg asks me to turn on the Garmin and plug in their address when we are about an hour down the road. He knows the highway he's looking for--he just can't remember the number.

"Nope, that's not right."

Recalculating.

I reset the settings from fastest route to shortest distance. Garmin sends us on a new path.

Nope.

Recalculating.

"Call Tom. I want to ask him how he goes."

Recalculating.

I reset Garmin back to fastest route. She's still not right. But we keep driving.

Soon I hear her say, "In point four miles turn left onto _____ Road." Of course, we don't want that.

Recalculating.

"In point two miles turn left onto _____Street." Nope, not that one either.

Recalculating.

"In point five miles turn left onto ....."

Recalculating.

I turned her off before she exploded.

Is My Zipper Down?

2012-03-02T04:40:00.002-08:00

Giggles. I try to ignore them. I'm sure that they are just talking about prom or what they are going to do this weekend.

They turn around, look at me and giggle. I'm trying to give a lecture (and God, how I hate to lecture).
They giggle again.
"Really? Giggling? Is my zipper unzipped?"
They turn to each other and laugh.

Last period of the day.
The boys in the back of the room, who always snicker and laugh, are looking at me, then snickering and laughing. And it's contagious. The quiet, shy girls in the corner begin to giggle. They look at me. Turn red. And giggle.

I do the subtle check. I turn around and continue lecturing.

I look at my SmartBoard.

Hmmm. A red laser point is dancing around. I look sharply at the boys in the back. They giggle, but I don't think it's them.

The shades are up. The library and several classrooms are across the square from me.

Hmmm.

Detective Day will figure this out.....

Doin' A Happy Dance!

2012-03-01T04:27:00.000-08:00

I'm doin' my happy dance because today is March 1st and you know what that means! It's the Slice of Life Challenge over at Two Writing Teachers!

Welcome to Coffee With Chloe!

Hi, I'm Chloe. Normally, I'm a pretty happy dog, but it's March. I remember what happened last year. Deb ignored me for most of the month while she wrote in this silly challenge (Deb here. I wrote my thoughts about the Slice of Life Challenge a week or so ago. You can check it out here). Really, who wants to write--we should be going for walks, throwing the frisbee, getting rid of those pesky squirrels and birds that keep invading my yard!

But no. If she isn't writing on the computer, she'll be writing in her notebook or she'll be checking out writing sites looking for ideas (Deb again--I'm going to start a new page of sites I have found with writing ideas. Feel free to check it out!). Geez. I'm lying right here. That should be plenty of inspiration!

But, no, she'll sit at the silly computer every morning now. What's the big deal anyway?

Anyway, I'll fill you in a little bit about this silly blog.

Most of the year, Deb doesn't write every day, and she doesn't always write about me--even though its named after me. I just don't get that. I'm cute. I'm funny. And doggone it, people like me! Most of the time it seems she writes about school--that reading and writing stuff. Sometimes she writes about the grandkids--they're almost as cute and funny as I am! Sometimes she writes about her kids at school. I don't know what makes them so great. And sometimes--well sometimes, she writes poetry. Yuck.

Well, that's about it for me. I hope you come back again. At least come back when she writes about me. Hey--maybe I should write my own blog. I could call it Digging with Deb or Doggin' Deb or... well, I'll get back to you on that. See you soon!

Oh yeah. Leave a comment. She kind of likes that.

Calendar Journals And Activities for YA Lit Unit

2012-02-29T08:31:00.001-08:00

Cover on upside down!

I wrote last week about the novel unit that I was starting with my freshmen. Today will be day 6 of the unit so I thought I would write a little about it.

The ~~first~~ most important thing about the unit is choice. Students choose their own book. I didn't have classroom sets of novels. I didn't give them a list of books to choose from. I didn't assign lit circles. They didn't have to choose a certain genre. The only requirement was it had to be "worthy" of them. Not something too easy (I'm pretty familiar with their reading levels). And it had to have some heft to it. It needed to make them think.

They will read this young adult novel in fifteen days. They take the number of pages in the book, divide by fifteen and that's the number of pages they need to read a day. Each day, after reading their pages in class, they have two things to do.

The first thing they do is fill out a calendar journal. Calendar journals was something a friend shared with me from Pinterest. I adapted what I found on The Nifty Boutique site. The page I used was a free download. I did white out dinner at the bottom of each box and wrote in pages so that students had a place to record how many pages they read.

My first two calendar journal entries for The Scorpio Races

My purpose for the calendar journal is so they have a place to record questions/thoughts/summaries of what they read each day.

CALENDAR JOURNAL DIRECTIONS

You need to fill in thecalendar every day. You can fill each square with a variety of things and youcan change the activity each day.

* write asentence or two that summarizes what you read

* write whatyou think the most important word in the days reading was

* draw apicture that symbolizes your reading for the day

* ask aquestion about the day’s reading

* words orphrases you like or

* words orphrases you don’t understand

The activities that the kids do after they finish reading come from a variety of places. I've done this unit many times, with many different grade levels, so the activities have been changed up or reworded. I know that some I use come from Susan Finney. She presented a seminar in our district in 2003. She has several books out that I use for reading activites. I'm sure if you google her, you'll find a list.

The activities this year are grouped into categories: Plot, Character, Word/Style, Setting and Miscellaneous. I wrote out more than fifteen questions so that students have a choice each day of what they want to do. They have to do a certain amount of activities in each category, but they can choose which ones they want to do and when they want to do it. They complete the activities in a booklet they make the first day of the unit.

And that's really it. Students choose books, students read books, students think and write about books.

There will be a writing assignment after this. One of the genres freshmen are supposed to write about it a literary analysis. We'll see how that works out!

Super Teacher

2012-02-28T04:32:00.001-08:00

I am super teacher.

(Hear me roar)

I read

so I can share the good books

I write

so I know the fear of the blank page struggle

I rehearse

so they may know the sound of applause

I counsel

because no one else will listen

I laugh

and share the joy

I cry

and share the pain

I correct

so they learn the right way

I conference

so their writing has meaning

I attend meetings No one else has time for

because no one else cares enough to go

But

Overextending

Doing to Much

Not Asking for

Help

Is the Kryptonite of the

SuperTeacher

And

Sometimes

Good Intentions are

Not Enough

I dropped the ball

I'm sorry

You Matter: An Open Letter to My Speech Kids

2012-02-26T07:34:00.000-08:00

This has been a crazy year with you guys. I wasn't sure I could coach all of you alone, without a co-coach. But I am very protective of you. Not just anyone could step in and work with you, so I decided to give it a try. I told you all you would have to step up and help me out. And you have. You've helped with the mundane tasks like filling out the letter point sheets, double checking the old sheets, and going over registration sheets and making sure I haven't left anyone out.

Then came time for the real work of contest speech.

Rehearsals.

At the beginning of the season, you "old timers" took the "newbies" and showed them how it's done. And you helped them. You didn't leave them out, or view them as competition. You rehearsed with them, you gave them pointers, you cheered them on when it was time to perform.

I saw teamwork with the large group events. You didn't complain when I asked you to take "the freshmen" and make sure they got where they needed to go, with what they needed to have. You hauled props, carried my box of essentials, and made sure everyone had a supportive audience. Even at state, when we had to leave at 4:30 in the morning so a couple of us could leave to go to Honor Band.

And then individual started. 42 events. Each needing to be rehearsed once a week. Not kidding you, I wasn't looking forward to it.

But you know what. You stepped up again. From freshmen to seniors, you stepped up.

You rehearsed each other!

Friday night amazed me. You just took over the school. Rehearsals were everywhere. That's dedication (Ok, so it was also a little panic setting in. It stilled showed dedication). People came in to rehearse with me, sometimes not during their time. I was running late, but no one complained. You just kept practicing on your own until I could get to you.

I just smiled at one point as I stepped into the hall. Amid the teasing and laughing and messing around, there was serious work happening. I loved it.

Saturday came.

And here is where the magic happened for me. I watched all of you throughout the day. (I know. Not your performances--it's impossible for me to get to them all). So, I walked the halls and haunted the gym. You made sure that your friends had a hand to hold, a shoulder to lean on, and a supportive audience. You took the others in your category and rehearsed with them. You calmed down the jitters. You fired people up. You watched as many people perform as you could.

And you were there when the ratings came out. Judges can be tough. And I can say all the right words, but it's you who makes a difference. You cheered for those who received Division 1's. They deserved it. Hard work pays off.

But for those who didn't receive those ones, you were magnificent. Because sometimes, hard work doesn't pay off. You were indignant. You were astonished. You held hands. Gave shoulders to cry on. Talked quietly about performances.

I have never been more proud of students in my life. Being a speech kid isn't always easy. I know sometimes you get teased about it. It takes a lot of dedication, self-confidence, and self-discipline. It takes heart and compassion.

I always talk about you as my "speech kids" (and you are my kids, you know). But calling you kids doesn't seem to be enough this year. I looked up the word "team" this morning. Most of those definitions didn't seem to fit you either. Until I got to Wikipedia:

"A team comprises a group of people or animals linked in a common purpose. Teams are especially appropriate for conducting tasks that are high in complexity and have many interdependent subtasks.

A group in itself does not necessarily constitute a team. Teams normally have members with complementary skills and generate synergy through a coordinated effort which allows each member to maximise his/her strengths and minimise his/her weaknesses. Team members need to learn how to help one another, help other team members realize their true potential, and create an environment that allows everyone to go beyond their limitations.^[1]

Yep--you are a team! And, you will, always and forever, be MY KIDS!

A Messy Business

2012-02-24T05:12:00.001-08:00

It's a messy business

this thing called teaching.

Flying books,

Soaring papers,

Mountains of papers to grade

Scrambled desks,

Kids on the floor,

Kids in the hall

(No kids climbing the wall, thank goodness)

Whispering kids,

Whining kids,

Writing kids,

Reading kids.

Kids who should be there,

and some who shouldn't.

Do real working classrooms ever

Really

Look like this?

YA Novel Unit

2012-02-22T11:29:00.000-08:00

Part of my classroom library

I cringed as I wrote the title of this blog. I always hated novel units as a student. I hated them because either one book was assigned to the whole class with little consideration to tastes or interests, or there were a few to choose from, but only ones the teacher had read and deemed appropriate. The novel unit that stands out vividly to me is from my freshman year in high school. We were all assigned one of two books--Les Miserables or The Red Pony. I have to admit, I ended up liking Les Miserables, but I know that most of the students assigned either one, hated them.

I'm not so fond of how "The Novel" is taught to students today.

Pretty much nothing has changed.

But I'm trying.

I started a Young Adult Novel unit with my freshmen today. Actually, it started a couple of weeks ago when I got new books (all the ones on my wish list!). And then again, last Thursday when I told kids what we were going to be doing and they started earnestly looking through my books.

"Can I read this one?"

"I want this one."

"What do you mean, it's not worthy of me?"

"Really, I can't read it again?"

I started piles of books with post-it notes of names. I began pulling books off the shelves that were good and needed to be read. I pulled books down as I thought of specific kids. I even ordered an Ellen Hopkins book that one of my girls wanted and I didn't have. All in preparation for this week.

Yesterday was book choosing day. If they hadn't already found one last Thursday, then Tuesday was the day. The books were flying around my room. At one point, a book was pulled out of someone's hand (kind of like Black Friday sales!). They prepared their activity book, got directions for the journal calendar, and the activities they could choose from for each day's assignment.

My main goal is to get them to read a good book. And if you've read my blog before, you know I believe in choice. I want them to pick their own books. My only requirement is that it is worthy of them. I don't care what they read the rest of the year, but for this unit, I want them to read something with a little meat to it. Something that will make them think and feel. Something that will make them admit that they kind of like their book.

"Can we start reading our books today? Please? Mine looks really good!"

And so it begins....

Breathing

2012-02-21T04:53:00.000-08:00

Read a few more slices at Two Writing Teachers
Better yet, join us and write your own!

My husband and I took a much needed breather over the four day weekend and traveled to Wisconsin to see his sister and her husband. Getting away was not without its obstacles, but we managed it. It is so wonderful to be able to spend time with family and not have the family drama! We did nothing special, just enjoyed each other's company.

On Saturday, two of their grandsons came to spend the night with them, as both parents had to work overnight shifts. Greg and I really enjoyed this since there were only two. Before you laugh, remember, usually there are so many people around when we are all together that we don't really get to enjoy the kids. With only two hanging out with us, we got to visit and talk and be entertained (Trust me. The Lady Gaga song was entertaining--as were the songs they made up)! Chloe got a kid fix, which she always needs. We couldn't help but laugh as she licked them til they giggled!

We decided to take a trip to the Goodwill store (see how low key this trip was!) The kids were excited. They could pick out something to get "if it was worth it and wouldn't break before the afternoon was up". I was excited--used books for the classroom. My husband was excited--he loves a bargain. Off we went.

We split up and headed to our respective areas.

The boys found hula hoops. The entertainment began. Around their necks and around their waist. Those hula hoops were moving! Of course, those had to go home. Later, hula hooping in the living room while playing catch with the football sounded like a good idea, but Grandpa quickly put the kabosh on that!

Greg found a game he'd always wanted. I found a lot of books to take back to school. Success.

Game night followed. First, the game Greg found Fact or Crap. Really, kind of a fun game. More guessing than anything. And the boys felt like they were being naughty since they can't use the word Crap at home. They still didn't get to say it, but they did have the card!

Later we played Apples to Apples. Another fun one to play with kids. Both of these will find their way into my classroom. Because they really make you think! And be creative in your thinking. Perfect for those days when students need a breather.

We left for home on Sunday...relaxed and ready to face the week ahead. And at least I got one more day to prepare myself for that!

Shine by Lauren Myracle

2012-02-20T06:53:00.000-08:00

I finished Shine by Lauren Myracle last week. I've had a little time to digest it. It was one of those books that I liked, but wasn't sure I loved. But it sure did make me think.

Shine begins with a news article about the beating of a local boy, Patrick Truman. He was beaten and left for dead at the gas station where he worked. Labeled a hate crime by the local sheriff, he is ready to blame the attack on gay-bashing out-of-towners.

But Cat, the former best friend of Patrick; Cat, with problems of her own; Cat doesn't necessarily agree with the sheriff. Cat believes the attack lies closer to home. She begins to investigate. Her investigation leads he to many of the secrets of her close knit Southern town. Along the way, she deals with her own problems and finds herself again.

The story is about Cat, but for me, it was really about Patrick. Throughout this book I kept thinking about how horrible it must have been for Patrick to grow up in Black Creek...this small town in the South--although, truthfully, it could be a small town anywhere--even northeast Iowa. How did he handle the day to day living in this town? How did he deal with the prejudice disguised as religion? How did he face the face the comments about his sexuality? And how did he deal with all this from his "friends" and the people who should have been standing up for him? I want to hear from Patrick!

Smiling My Way To A 4 Day Weekend

2012-02-16T18:19:00.000-08:00

Because of two nights of conferences this week, we have Friday off as a compensation day. Monday is President's Day and we have that off too. Hallelujah! A four day weekend. Time to relax and enjoy.

As I left about 6:00pm after rehearsals with some of my speech kids, I met a student coming down the hall. A student I have been working with off and on all year. He has lots going on in his life and school and homework are not at the top of his list of things to do.. He's failing several classes and he's much too smart to fail anything. I check with him every day about work he has to do. Work he's missing. What he's going to work on in study hall. I nag him.

"Hey. What are you doing back?" I laughingly ask.

A small grin appears on his face.

"I came back to get the stuff for my science poster so I can get it done this weekend."

Success.

I'm still smiling.

When Art Teachers Are Bored

2012-02-16T06:28:00.000-08:00

We've had spring conferences the Monday and Tuesday nights (two twelve hour days in a row. UGH) At the high school level, spring conferences are notoriously slow. They are better now that parents may schedule conferences online, but still, at this time of year, they are slow. Especially Tuesday night, when our boys basketball team had a big game out of town. In four hours, I had five conferences. FIVE. I had one of the bigger nights. Some only had one or two. Some had none.

It was good for me because I crossed many things off my to-do list. I did, however, find a little time to check out Pinterest (everyone needs a little brain break!). I found these really cute paper roses:

Source: southernpiphi.tumblr.com via Deb on Pinterest

The art teacher down the hall from me saw them on my board. An email from her said, "I'm bored. Pick one." There was a link http://mybohemiansummer.tumblr.com/SuperSweetTutorials

Directions for lots and lots of lovely paper flowers. I didn't even have time to pick one before she showed up in my room with a couple made from a book page.

Periodically throughout the evening, she would come in with another one. By the end of the night, I had received a lovely bouquet and a container to keep them in.

Gotta love bored art teachers!

Forgetting to Breathe

2012-02-14T06:54:00.000-08:00

Want to read more slices. Head on over to
Two Writing Teachers!

I began this piece in Creative Writing. The first time in a long time I have written with my students. I thought it was going to be a normal Tuesday slice. I began to write--I was going to write about how I need to refocus on my OLW, Connect. But my words had a mind of their own, and this is what came out.

Chaotic. Hectic. Crazy.

No time for anything

But

Work.

Reading drafts

Reading finals

Grading papers

Grading speeches

Conferences

Rehearsing

Forgetting to breathe.

Forgetting to take time to

Connect.

Forgetting to take time to

Enjoy the little things.

Forgetting to take time to

Tell my story.

No reading

No writing

No playing

Forgetting to breathe.

But

Today

In the middle of a

A mile long To-Do List

I took a breath.

It smelled of ink and paper,

and

New books,

and

the promise of an end in sight.

My eyes focused on

Little Things.

Whispers of collaboration

Giggles

Smiles of pleasure over something

Well-written

I took another breath.

And began to tell my story.

Slice of Life

2012-02-12T07:15:00.000-08:00

Writing for me was always a private act. I kept journals and diaries and wrote my life. I wrote poetry. I composed short stories and the beginnings of novels, sometimes in my head, sometimes on paper.

But I never, ever shared.

Until I joined the Slice of Life challenge last March.

Teaching writing for me was a private act. I assigned journal entries. I assigned poetry. I assigned short stories.

But they never, ever shared.

Until I joined the Slice of Life challenge last March.

I can honestly say I am a better writer and a better teacher of writers and readers than I was at this time last year. I take chances with my own writing and in my classroom that I wouldn't have taken before last year. I encourage myself and my students to play around with words, to discover new genres, to build on their skills (thanks, Ruth for Discover. Play. Build.)

My personal writing is stronger because of the audience I write for. My students' writing becomes stronger because of the audience they write for. Google Docs makes sharing easier, but it was Stacey and Ruth and the rest of the teachers I met through Two Writing Teachers that taught me the value of sharing, conferring and critiquing each other's work.

I am a better teacher and a better person because I write. I am much more reflective in my life. I am more honest about my life, both in and out of the classroom. I have grown as a human because I write.

18 days out, and I look forward to this challenge again. I look forward to seeing how this coming year will again change the way I write and teach. I look forward to new ideas. I look forward to new ways of working with writers.

I look forward to seeing you. Join us. Take the plunge. Break out of your comfort zone. Try something new (Here's link to get your started! Gearing Up for the SOLSC).

March 1st. The Fifth Annual Slice of Life Challenge. Two Writing Teachers. Be there.

"Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart."

William Wordsworth

Christmas in February

2012-02-09T04:10:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine happens to be the At-Risk coordinator in our district. A couple of weeks ago we were visiting in her office. She was lamenting the fact that she had money to spend on books, but the teachers of the reading class that I taught last year hadn't given her a list of what they wanted.

I know why. They don't read. At least they don't read Young Adult novels.

I had a list in my head.

So, I did what any teacher who reads would have done. "I'll get you a list! Put the books in my room and I'll make sure they get to the kids who need them."

"Get me a list."

Yahoo! I began rereading posts of blogging friends who write about the books they read (special shout out to Christy of Reading Beyond the Middle). We had a snow day on the day the ALA announced their awards, so I watched the webcast and followed along on Twitter.

My list contained great books. And yesterday, they arrived in my room!

"Mrs. Day, I've never seen anyone get so excited about a bunch of books."

While students worked on a project, I quickly entered the books on my inventory list. As I did this, slowly a few crept up to my desk and began looking through the piles.

"Can I read this first?"

"I want this one."

"Ooo, this looks good."

"Put a post-it note on the one you want to read," I said, "and I'll do those first so you can take them home."

As a true reader, it was hard for me to send some of these out into the world before I had a chance to savor them. Come on. You know what I mean. But, I did let them go. I made kids promise to take care of them, savor them, and bring them back to me...so I could get them out quickly to others.

Merry Christmas! (And thanks again, Mrs. At-Risk. You rock!)

I Don't Wanna Write Either!

2012-02-07T15:56:00.000-08:00

5:52pm. I've been home for about five minutes.

I was sick for five days. In those five days, five mountains of work piled up.

~~Creative Writing pieces to grade~~. DONE

English 9 assignments to correct.

~~Speech outlines to look over.~~ DONE

~~Midterms are due at 8~~ DONE

~~My speech contest registration is due tomorrow.~~ DONE

45 Speech events to get rehearsed in five days.

Writing Curriculum work to do.

~~Three letters of recommendation to write~~ Done

I don't wanna write. I don't have time.

Too much to do. Too little time.

But write I will, even with no time to think, because it's Tuesday and I must. It's part of me now. In one short year, writing has become an even more important part of my life than it had been before. And because I took the time to write why I don't wanna (thanks, Ruth), I now have a plan of attack.

Later, Gator. Must tackle the list!

11/22/63

2012-02-03T04:32:00.000-08:00

I'm reading Stephen King's newest book 11/22/63--I've been reading it for several weeks and love it. But this is a dense read. You know what I mean? It takes lots of stamina, lots of thinking, lots of connecting.

When movies are made of King's stories, he often appears in small, inconsequential parts. Little cameos. I love to watch for him and see where he pops up. His books are often similar--especially this one. He throws in references and characters and settings from his other books. Those references don't take away any enjoyment or understanding for those new to his books, but to those of us who've read them all, reading his books is like a treasure hunt. You must find the Easter eggs.

King creates his characters slowly and with care--even minor characters who would normally be overlooked and ignored. He creates worlds that require readers to suspend their disbelief and live vicariously through characters. He creates unbelievable situations and makes them so realistic, readers have to stop and remind themselves that's its all make believe.

11/22/63 is King at his finest.

Amazon.com review
On November 22, 1963, three shots rang out in Dallas, President Kennedy died, and the world changed. What if you could change it back? Stephen King’s heart-stoppingly dramatic new novel is about a man who travels back in time to prevent the JFK assassination—a thousand page tour de force.

Following his massively successful novel Under the Dome, King sweeps readers back in time to another moment—a real life moment—when everything went wrong: the JFK assassination. And he introduces readers to a character who has the power to change the course of history.

Jake Epping is a thirty-five-year-old high school English teacher in Lisbon Falls, Maine, who makes extra money teaching adults in the GED program. He receives an essay from one of the students—a gruesome, harrowing first person story about the night 50 years ago when Harry Dunning’s father came home and killed his mother, his sister, and his brother with a hammer. Harry escaped with a smashed leg, as evidenced by his crooked walk.

Not much later, Jake’s friend Al, who runs the local diner, divulges a secret: his storeroom is a portal to 1958. He enlists Jake on an insane—and insanely possible—mission to try to prevent the Kennedy assassination. So begins Jake’s new life as George Amberson and his new world of Elvis and JFK, of big American cars and sock hops, of a troubled loner named Lee Harvey Oswald and a beautiful high school librarian named Sadie Dunhill, who becomes the love of Jake’s life—a life that transgresses all the normal rules of time.

A tribute to a simpler era and a devastating exercise in escalating suspense, 11/22/63 is Stephen King at his epic best.

Some Days Just Feel Right

2012-01-31T10:44:00.000-08:00

Join other slicers at Two Writing Teachers every Tuesday.

Last week I presented mini lessons on writing children's books and poetry in class. Yesterday my 40 creative writing students shared their drafts. We share on Google Docs and I can then comment on them as I read their drafts. I would love to always conference with each of them, but the plain truth is, I simply can't get to everyone. By sharing on Google Docs, I can read and comment to all, and they can come to me if they want to talk more.

Last night, as I read and commented, I was simply amazed at the work they were sharing. Especially the poetry. That one genre that most kids--especially boys--think they can't write. Boy, are they wrong!

The opening stanza from one young man's hunting poem--he revised this morning after reading comments and talking to me. Got rid of some extraneous words. Focused in on important details.

4:30 a.m

Blares in my ear
Morning chills run through my veins
Sitting in the woods, no sound to hear
Nothing to see but the steam from my breath

I love the line "Morning chills run through my veins". Even better, the last line of the poem (after he gets his deer) "Excitement now running through my veins."

And how about this one:

Shades of yellows, oranges, reds
Capturing rays of sun illuminating our life.
Sunrises spread across the horizon filling the sky with breathtaking colors,
Shades of yellows, oranges, reds splashed across the sky.
Beautiful moments captured with a stroke of a brush.

Isn't it beautiful? Four stanzas of wonderful descriptions of color palettes. I told this student she should turn this into art work.

Athletes also find inspiration in their sport when it comes to writing poetry. This section of a poem by a swimmer is amazing to me. I can feel that burn and push to finish a race as I read it:

The burn in your legs is still there, but less noticeable.
The end is so close you can feel it.
Energy dwindling.
A few yards to go.
Another gasp for air.
Give it your all.
Five yards left.
Kick, kick, kick.
Two yards left.
Don’t breath.
GO!!!

And even this one gave me a chuckle:

I’m suppose to write poetic
Its not working so well
Its more or less pathetic
I’m giving it my all
If i priced it, it wouldn’t sell
I don’t know what I’m doing
This class is so confusing
I need to learn how to write
I won’t go down
Not without a fight
Last chance to write this poem
I gave It all my might

I gave this one some templates of poetry to try and talked him through a few ideas. He'll get it.

The best part of the morning for me was talking to all these young writers about their pieces. We had great conversations. It helped that I was able to read their pieces the night before. And it helps that not everyone needed a face to face conference. They are so unsure of themselves when they first share. The smiles that appear on their faces as we finish talking are priceless. Their words--timeless.

How About a Little Cheese With That W(h)ine?

2012-01-27T11:50:00.000-08:00

I got it. You hate to write. You enrolled in this class because the guidance department made you take another class and Drawing and Design was full.

I got it.

But do you really need to whine those words a million times a class period?

You whine about journal writing--even though I give you a topic to write about.
You whine when it's time to work on your draft--even though I gave you a topic to write about.
You whine when it's time to revise--even though I give you suggestions for revision.

You whine.

But you know what I think?

I think you are lazy. I think you don't want to think. I think that no matter what I say, you think Creative Writing should be a sluff class.

It's not.

In Creative Writing, WE WRITE EVERY DAY.

Writing makes you think and feel and believe in something. It strengthens brain muscles.
Writing helps you make sense of the world. It lets you explore the world around you.
Writing is joyful, and depressing, and illuminating. It is hard work.

There is no job out there where you will not have to write and communicate. Suck it up and write.

It Doesn't Mean You Can Teach

2012-01-25T18:01:00.000-08:00

It's 1975 and I am a freshman in college. Like education majors everywhere, I have to take an Intro to Psych class. I'm excited about it really. Here's a class that will actually relate to what I want to do with my life. I show up at 8:00am the first day of class.

In shuffles my professor. A wizened man of indeterminate age. Tufts of hair stand out at all angles (I see it gray in my memory, but the yearbook shows me differently) and he speaks to us in a thick Austrian accent ( I didn't know what accent at first, I just knew he was hard to understand). This is my psychology professor, Professor W.

Professor W tells us we will not be using the introductory psych book, instead, we will be using his textbook and learning a new language he has developed. Learning to speak "Aui" will allow us to communicate with extra-terrestrials when they arrive on Earth. Mind you, this is a few years before E.T or Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

He gives us a pretest.

I score the highest score in my class, missing only one.

Really.

I go to class every day for a few weeks. He shares his life at times. He grew up in the Austrian court before "the war" because his father was the tutor to the royal children. He went to prestigious schools and traveled the world.

The man was a genius. He quoted Shakespeare, recited chemistry equations, spoke several languages fluently, and expected the same of us. He was quite disgusted one day to find that we didn't know all that he did.

But he couldn't teach.

He also couldn't find his way out of a paper bag. In the winter, some would take his well worn path in the snow around a tree, which he would follow for a very long time before he figured out he wasn't going anywhere. He forgot his family in a large city about an hour away. He was the classic absent-minded professor. According to our governor's education plan, he would be a great candidate for the teacher education programs in the state of Iowa.

I, however, wouldn't.

Having a 3.0 doesn't mean you will automatically be a good teacher. It mostly means you play the school game well.

It means you can regurgitate volumes of information.
It means you can recite vocabulary words.
It means you can fill in the mad minutes sheet.
It means you can diagram a sentence.
It means you can take a test and fill in the bubbles.

It doesn't mean you can teach.

The Start of a Great Day

2012-01-24T04:56:00.000-08:00

What's the bus doing here so early? Wasn't he told I didn't need him here until 8:45?

It's Saturday. Contest day. A snowstorm delayed the start for two hours, but otherwise, everything's a go.

I better go tell him the kids won't be here for awhile and we're not leaving until 9, in case he wants to go get coffee or something.

I walk out into the cold and head to the bus. Brian lets me on with a smile.

"I wondered why there was no one here. I'll be fine though. I already have coffee and this will give the bus time to warm up."

I head back to the building, making a list in my head of the last minute details I need to take care of.

MY KEYS! CRAP!

Remember, it's Saturday morning after a snowstorm.

I look around. There are cars and pick-ups down by the locker room entrance--maybe there are some wrestlers running around to let me in.

I pound on the door. No answer.

I walk around to the back entrance by the superintendent's door and the back door to the high school. I pound on both to no avail. I am really locked out.

My purse.
My car keys.
My cell phone.
All locked up with my school keys.

Great.

I walk back around to the front, happy that students will be arriving. I have a plan. One of them can drive down to a fellow teacher's house and get her keys. Problem solved.

Except she doesn't answer her phone and no one answers her door.

Great.

Kids keep jumping out of cars, excited and ready for the day. Except one, who I'm told, seems to be having car trouble.

"Go and get him," I tell one young man. He races off to help his friend.

"Would Bill have a key?" Brian asks.

I look out at the parking lot and see that one of our custodians is plowing the parking lot.

"Yea, he would," I say as the big blue snowplow heads towards the garage

"I'll chase him down and see if he has one." And off Brian drives, with most of my kids on the bus, chasing after the big blue snowplow.

More kids arrive, confused as they see the bus pull away and me standing in front of the school.

I explain the situation as the bus comes back, followed by the big blue snowplow.

Hurray!

Some of the kids and I race down to my room to gather all our props and scripts and ballots and ...well, all that "stuff" needed for the day. Others grab my bags off the table and head toward the bus.

Thanks to my two heroes and a couple dozen great kids, everything and everyone was on the bus and we pulled out five minutes ahead of schedule.

The start of a terrific day....

Here's another little video I found online. Again, it has nothing to do with my post--I just like it! When we get our digital storytelling class going, this will be an assignment...

Wings to the World

2012-01-23T06:38:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Storykeeper, I discovered Every Day Poems on Facebook! And on the web. And on Twitter. And for $0.99, you can subscribe to them and get emails every day! I'm a little excited, can't you tell?

Anyway...

Yesterday's photo of inspiration

Wings To The World

I hope to give you wings

to soar above the world

spreading your message

of passion, enthusiasm,

and love.

I hope to give you wings

to fly through the world

finding those who validate you

and

support your dreams.

I hope to give you wings

you may sail through the

troubled times you experience

and

rise above them.

I hope to give you wings

you may flit and float and flutter

for

fun

without worrying what the fun-haters think.

I hope to give you wings.

He Loves Me

2012-01-20T05:40:00.000-08:00

My husband and I aren't the lovey, dovey, gag me kind of couple. Never have been. But, I know he loves me.

He turns off the bedroom TV when I fall asleep in front of it.
When people call after 9, he tells them I'm in bed ('cause I usually am!)
He tells them I'm busy when they call on Sunday bath nights
He calls and says, "How about we order out tonight?"
He cooks.
He "lets" me stay at the lake most of the summer while he has to go home to work.
He defends teachers--especially to the "Must be nice to be off at 4" or "Must be nice to have the summer off" people.

District speech contest is this weekend, so as always, he was going to go and visit his brother tonight. He hates to stay home alone. But with a snowstorm coming, he probably wouldn't have made it today, so he went last night.

When I got home late from school, the outside light was on so I could see, the shovel was pulled across the cement in front of the house--over the ice patch that has formed, and the kitchen light was on.

But what made me chuckle was the note on the fridge board. I guess he thought I wouldn't notice these things...

Deb

Walk along the fence.

Big ice patch has formed from faucet.

Out of milk soon.

Love,

Greg

Even when he's gone, he's here and taking care of me. That's love.

"Twas the Weeks Before State Visit...."

2012-01-17T04:22:00.000-08:00

'Twas the weeks before state visit and all through the school

All the committees were meeting and checking state rules.

The posters were hung by the doors with care,

In hopes that state visitors would see them hung there.

The teachers were prepped by administrative staff

While visions of data maps danced in their heads.

And principals in chairs and staff in attendance

Had just settled in for an inservice nap.

When out in the center there arose such a clatter

We woke from our naps to see what was the matter.

Away from my computer I flew like a flash

Shut down my Twitter and opened up my trash.

The glow on the screen in the front of the room

Gave a luster of midday to brighten the gloom.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a list of acronyms of which I should fear.

Now, CSIP! Now, SIAC! Now, SINA and MISIC. On ITEDS and Reading.

On, Vision and Mission!

To the top of the list! And not just in the fall.

Now test away, test away, test away all.

Ok--that's it. My creativity is gone. Spent eight hours today preparing for the site visit from the state. My mind is mush. I know our administration is doing the right thing by having this inservice and making sure we all have the information we need. I am just a tad touchy about some things said by teachers during a couple of my meetings. This is how I handle it. I write silly things. Because if I publish what I really think about what some people say (not my administration--really), I'll be in trouble. There will be a post about these things, I just need to figure out a way to say it tactfully....

I really almost linked my post from Sunday--check out my review of John Green's The Fault in Our Stars. Terrific book!

The Fault in Our Stars

2012-01-15T07:58:00.000-08:00

My (signed, yea!) copy of The Fault in Our Stars by John Green was waiting at my door when I came home the other day. I made a decision I normally never make--I started it while I was reading another book. I've been reading Stephen King's new book 11/22/63. I love King's book, but, for me, it's a slow read while I digest what he's writing about.

I thought Green's Young Adult novel would be a fast read and I could get it ~~on my book shelf faster~~ into the hands of kids if I just took a break and read it instead of 11/22/63. And it was, but I may have to read it again.

When I talk with students about books, I always tell them that, for me, if I wonder what the characters are doing without me, that's the sign of a good book. Not only did I wonder what Augustus and Hazel were doing--I wondered HOW they were doing, especially Hazel. She has cancer, you see. Although she's had a "tumor shrinking medical miracle", she's still terminal, and I worried about how she was feeling.

And who wouldn't love Augustus. The hot boy with one leg, who ~~gave up~~ shared his "Wish" with Hazel and took her to visit the author of a book she has many questions about. Really. Who wouldn't want him as a boyfriend.

And then there was Isaac. I loved Isaac too. I worried about his surgery and how he would cope. I loved the relationship he and Augustus had. The banter back and forth between them was so true to life. I hurt for him after his break-up (really--if you worry and think about a secondary character, it's a great book).

Simply, this is a beautifully written book. I started keeping track of the lines I loved, but finally quit writing them down. There were just too many. But I am going to share a couple because they keep resonating in my head (God, I wish I could write like this!)

"As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once."
"But, Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn't trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I am grateful."

This was one of those books where I couldn't decide if I wanted to read it fast, all in one sitting because I couldn't wait to find out what Hazel and Augustus were doing or if I should read it slow and savor it.

I loved the story. I loved the characters. I loved the writing.

I just plain loved this whole book.

...But Ideas Never Die

2012-01-10T20:15:00.000-08:00

Essays
Test questions
Research papers
Text messages
Status Updates
Lists
Orders

All things written by my creative writing students. Most of them say they hate to write--FOR SCHOOL--

At home, on their own, for fun, they write

Rap songs
Poetry
Fantasy stories
Adventure stories
Journals
Stories about their lives
Lists of their likes and dislikes
Letters
Blogs

They write when they're angry,
They write when they're sad,
They write when they're happy,
They write when they can't talk to anyone else, but things need to be said.

And they love it.

And they get better at it.

Hmmmm

As those in power are pushing for more and more testing. Pushing for writing to answer prompts. As people shove students into my class only because they need an English credit. Because it's "easy". I want them to listen to my students. They know they need to learn to write for school. They get that. They hate it, but they get it.

But

Here's the stuff they can't test.

"I like having control over what to write and not having someone tell me."

"When I really feel what I'm writing, it sounds better."

"People can die, civilizations can fall, books can burn, but ideas never die."

"What is a day without words? Chaos.

"...writing is the only way I can really be myself anymore. I use writing to explain all the feelings I would otherwise have left out. It's how I express the real me, instead of the fake me that everyone see walking around these halls now. Writing seems to be my only blessing because I have lost everything else that ever meant anything to me. Writing is all I have left to show even the slightest bit of who I am.

Wolf Moon

2012-01-10T05:01:00.000-08:00

Racing through the doorway

Bouncing on walls

Shouting whatever come into their heads

Never sitting

Always Touching

Always poking

Always shoving

Brains disengaged

Silly questions

Random conversations

No intelligent thought to be had

LOUD movements

LOUD voices

LOUD laughter

Does it happen to you too?

Can you tell there is a full moon

without

looking at the calendar

or hearing it on the news?

The following video has nothing to do with my poem or the full moon. It made me smile today as I head off to school so thought I would share with the people I know will appreciate it the most!

Is It Too Much To Ask?

2012-01-06T16:35:00.000-08:00

Friday. I should have been home early tonight, but I stayed after rehearsals to straightened desks, clean my room, and get things ready for Monday.

It's crazy, I know. But I'm a little nervous for Monday. I have a "J-termer" coming to my class. He/She is a student from the college about 20 miles from where I live. My alma mater. They are freshmen (usually) and come in January to observe classrooms. I received an e-mail last night from my J-termer that was so full of excitement and enthusiasm, I'm afraid the experience won't live up to his/her expectations.

You see, when I was a J-termer, my experience wasn't so great. It should have been right up my alley. I was assigned to the only English teacher in a very small school. She taught 7th to 12th grade English--every student in the building. I don't remember anything about it except sitting and sitting and sitting and sitting and ...

Well, you get the picture.

I know. "Student Observers". But I remember so well wanting to help. Check papers. Make a bulletin boards. Read aloud. Talk to students (even then I wanted to connect). ANYTHING!

I got nothin'. (I do believe they've changed the rules a little bit)

So, since I began teaching in this district and began having J-termers and student teachers, I try to make it the best experience I can. (Shhh! Don't tell anyone, but I break a few "rules".)

I will let my J-termer check papers. I will encourage them to walk around the room and talk to kids. They can give directions for an assignment or teach a simple lesson. Heck, they can make a bulletin board if they want.

I just want them to remember it.

I want them to see a teacher who LOVES her job and her students.
I want them to see that the enthusiasm they feel now, doesn't have to wane towards the end of their career.
I want them to see teaching as a fabulous profession.

And, I want it to be honest.

They should see and hear the unenthused talk about their job.
They should hear kids talk about teachers.
They should hear from teachers who are in the building at 7:30 and those who don't leave until long after 4:00.
They should hear from the teachers who do both.

And, I want them to look back in 30 years and say, "That was a great experience."

Is that too much to ask?

"She Really Gets Us"

2012-01-05T11:18:00.000-08:00

I seem to be having those honest conversations with kids a lot lately. Today it happened in English 9. We are studying author's style and voice and somehow, the conversation turned to what other teachers had taught them in the past (as I have mentioned before, I have been frustrated with how this class has been going, so this conversation was one I had been wanting to have).

"We learned a lot about nouns and verbs and stuff. "

"Yea--and punctuation. Yuck. Please don't do that."

"What do we even need periods for?" Yes, a freshman in high school asked why we need periods. Of course, she was also the freshman who thought you had to chew your food up into really small bites when you were pregnant so the baby could eat the food. And she couldn't find her textbook on the shelf today. Number 66. I pulled it off the shelf as soon as I went back to look. "Unh unh...that's number 99." Really. I couldn't make this stuff up!

"What's a noun again?"

"A person, place, thing, or idea."

"Oh. Yeah."

I had to ask, "Did you write?"

"No. This was English class. We just did English stuff." Can you hear the screaming in my head?

"I understand now. No wonder this class was such a shock to you in the beginning. You really didn't always get what I wanted."

"Yeah. It was hard, Mrs. Day."

"So, you didn't really write?"

"Well, we wrote a story once. And in seventh grade we did journals every day."

"We wrote in Mrs. __________ class. We wrote something every week." Sounded like a scripted prompt to me.

"Well, this is why you're going to write more this semester. You need to! Almost every job you will ever apply for will ask you for a writing sample. You have to know how to write more than a tweet and a status update! And it needs to sound like you...it needs to be real. No one's going to ask you what a noun is or have you diagram a sentence. Not that you don't need to have an understanding of those things. But you need to be able to put your thoughts down and have them make sense to other people! So no grammar or punctuation units. If we need to review something, we will, but we're not going to study it to death and fill out lots of worksheets."

"Listen guys. She gets it!"

I'm not sure what I "got", but hopefully, they "got" that I think writing is more than grammar and punctuation worksheets. That the writing we will continue to do will be real. As for why we need periods, well, I did point out some examples later in the lesson!

But I Don't Have Weird Friends Like You Do

2012-01-04T05:02:00.000-08:00

Connecting in Creative Writing is a little different than speech. It's easier in some ways. For one thing, I have had most of these students in class before. We have a relationship of sorts. I know things about them, they know some things about me. The connecting comes as we work through ideas and write them in our notebooks.

In some ways, it's harder. I already think I know things about them. They already think they know things about me. Sometimes, like this morning, it would be easier to just let them come in and start writing...to just go with the status quo. When I came into my room, they were already hard at work on the writing autobiography I assigned yesterday.

But today, because of my OLW--CONNECT- I worked a little harder at deepening those connections.

I let them work the first part of the period, but with about 20 minutes left, I asked them to put away their computers and get out their notebooks.

I began with the simple words, "I am a writer. These are my writer's notebooks. And when I first began my blog, it was hard for me to continually come up with ideas to write about. So, I began making lists because it's my favorite way to write. This is the first list I wrote in my notebook."

PEOPLE PLACES THINGS

the right side is my people, places, and things list

And I show them my list and how I got started. I relate how I chose people, which sometimes lead me to places or things. My writing scribbles all over my white board. The rows fill as I tell quick little anecdotes about the things I wrote on my list. Then, I ask them to do the same thing.

Most begin writing with a little trepidation. Frequently heard, "But I don't have any weird people and things like you do." They always focus on the two, rather unique people I included on my list. They forget about my college friends, the resort where our cabin is, Chloe, the college I attended...all the normal things I have included.

So, I remind them of the things in their life I know about (this is the easy part).

"What about your friends S and I?" I ask of one student. "They're a little weird. And together, I'll bet you've had a few experiences you could write about. And what about some of the teachers you've had. Any of them have a few quirks that make you laugh?"

Her list begins to fill.

To a young man trying to hide in the back and not fill out his list, "I had you in 6th period English in 7th grade. Are there not a few things you could write about from that class?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Hello...get that notebook back out! Think of how crazy that class could be and all the things you all tried to get away with."

He begins scribbling away.

In talking to those two, the entire class is writing furiously in their notebooks. Lists are beginning to take up most of a page! One small lesson. Two small connections. Success.

How Sucking at Golf Helps My Teaching

2012-01-02T19:05:00.000-08:00

Check out other slicers at TwoWritingTeachers (or better yet, join the fun!)

And so we start anew.
A new day
A new semester
A new year

I love the start of a new semester and a new year. Life just seems full of possibilities. It seems like I can do anything. Be anything.

My plans for today--to begin making those connections with kids. I have 100 new students coming into my classroom. They'll be excited to be back in class, but a little nervous too. Especially those in speech class. I want to let them know it's OK to be nervous, that I don't expect perfection, and that I want to help them.

I model the first speech of the year for them on each first day. It's a paper bag speech that introduces them to class. They are to put three objects in the bag that will help us get to know them. My speech goes a little something like this:

I'm Mrs. Day and I'll be your speech teacher this semester. I know that many of you are a little nervous about this class and having me for a teacher. I'm going to tell you a little bit about myself just so you know who I am.

I was a very shy student until my sophomore year in high school when I took speech and drama classes. Those classes helped shape me into the person I am today. I can still be shy, I still get a little nervous talking in front of people, but speech helped me deal with both of those things. I hope it does the same for you.

(Hold up my writer's notebook)

The first thing you should know is I am a writer. I love to write. Creative Writing is a class close to my heart. I think it's important for people to write every day. It makes you think and feel. This is my writer's notebook which I try to write in every day. I also write a blog about teaching and my life that has become a very important part of who I am.

(Hold up a book)

I am also a reader. I read every day. I read everything I can get my hands on--magazines, newspapers, blogs, books and cereal boxes. I have read at least half of the books on those shelves, so if you have the need for a good book, talk to me. I promise I will find you one. Just because this is speech class doesn't mean you can't check out my books, so find some time to go through the boxes and see what you can find.

These are important things to me and I'm good at them--guess it's why I'm an English teacher!

(Hold up golf ball)

In the last few years, I have also learned to golf. I suck at golf (there's usually a little chuckle here). But I love getting outside with my friends and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. But really, I suck.

Now, let's face it. Most adults don't continue doing things they aren't good at. If they try something and aren't successful at it, they quit. They never do it again. Kids don't get that option. For better or worse, you have to be in this class whether you enjoy it or not, whether you are good at it or not. So golf reminds what it's like to be a student in my classroom. What's its like to not be good at something. What it's like to not enjoy something all the time. What it's like to struggle.

You will see that I usually have a golf ball on my desk, It's my reminder to be patient, to be understanding, to sometimes give you a break when you need it. If you are struggling with things, please come and talk to me about it. My door is always open.

And then I stop. I hand out the assignment and the paper bags, and let them get to work. But I have figuratively opened that door. I've let them know I don't expect them to all be good at this thing called speech. That's it's OK to struggle. That it's OK to ask for help. And this is how I start making connections.

My One Little Word: Connect

Honest Conversations

2011-12-30T06:59:00.000-08:00

My second hour speech class talked a lot. They moved around a lot. They needed music going all the time. They demanded my attention--good or bad. They wanted me to notice them, to talk to them, to like them. Many of them didn't get those things from other ~~people~~ teachers.

One of our last days of class together, as they put finishing touches on their "Commencement Addresses", some of us got involved in a conversation about teachers and school. A very honest conversation.

Most of them hate school and can't wait to "get out of here". They hate homework, boring classes, and lectures. When I asked them when was the last time they liked school, they told me elementary school (except for Mr. Cocky Wrestler, who told me he never liked school). Their teachers were nice and the work was easy. According to them, that changes in about fifth grade. In our district, that's the year they begin switching classes and teachers--and evidently, the work gets harder too.

It's the year we begin losing them.

By high school, their school "personalities" are fully formed...

So what did they hate about the high school? Lectures, the same thing happening day after day after day, paper and pencil work all the time, teachers who write on the board all the time with their back to the class, and teachers who don't care.

What would they like to see their school like? More hands on classes where the work makes sense, less lecturing, less "homework", teachers who care.

They want connections with teachers. They want to know their teachers realize that students have lives outside of school. They want teachers who ask about those lives. And, they even want to know about the teacher's life outside of school.

Connections.

I'm not naive enough to believe that simply asking a student about their day is going to make them love school. Going to their game is not going make them A students or raise our test scores. Attending a concert is not going to make them do their homework. None of that is going to change anything--especially if it only happens one time.

When you ask an elementary teacher what they teach, most say, "I teach ______ graders". When you ask middle school teachers you get a mixed response, but when you ask a high school teacher, 95% of them will say, "I teach ____________ (fill in subject). When did we forget the most important part of our job? In defense of high school teachers everywhere, there is always pressure to cover all the curriculum. To prepare our students for the next class in the spectrum. To make sure they "get it".

My classes make it easier to connect, I know that. In speech, the first three or four speeches are about the students. Actually, since they choose their own topics, all the speeches are really about them. I find out many things about students in listening to those speeches. Creative Writing also gives me opportunities to find out about my students. Their writer's notebooks, their personal narratives, their poetry and stories, all give me a glimpse into who they are.

But I think all teachers at every level can find ways to connect with the kids in their classes. It takes some time. It takes some effort. It takes teaching young adults and not curriculum. It takes knowing that in the end, it will be worth it.

My Favorites: 2011

2011-12-27T08:08:00.000-08:00

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The end of 2011 is also bringing to an end my first year blogging. Although I didn't start Coffee With Chloe until March, I started a different blog elsewhere in January. Last night I deleted that blog. It just didn't fit with my blogging life.

As I read through many of my posts, I sometimes wondered how I had the nerve to publish some of them. They certainly weren't very good. Others I read almost as if I was reading them for the first time--I almost didn't remember writing them.

And then there were the old friends. The ones I loved as I was writing them. And, I think that love shows in the writing of them. I always preach to kids to write what they love--I guess that goes for me too!

So, here they are, from the early ones to the latest ones. My favorites posts of this past year. Not necessarily the most popular--but the posts that I loved writing.

Puppy Kisses The first, the scariest. I introduced Chloe and myself to a whole new world. I'll never forget clicking "publish" for the first time and then figuring out how to link this post to the TWT site. It amazes me I was that brave!
Look Gramma, It's a Princess I write many posts about the grandkids. This story is a particular favorite. I still remember that day vividly. I don't know that I did it justice with my words, but for me it was important to record the memory.
Dance With the Red Dog Another Chloe post. I like this one because it gives readers a glimpse into my mornings. This is a dance I perform daily.
Goat Dog I wrote a lot about Chloe at the beginning of this blog. She is a constant source of inspiration.
Lake of the Spirit "The Lake" is another favorite topic of mine. This piece shares why. Also, it's the first time Alan Wright commented on a post of mine. I admire his blog so much so this seemed like a milestone!
Today I Walk Funny. This wasn't on my list last night, but as I saw the title this morning and I reread it, it made the list. I miss my dad a lot. And our school memory walk is something I am proud of since I was on the original committee that started it. This piece still makes me cry.
Just Read I am passionate about my teaching, my students and reading and writing. This piece did create great conversation and introduced me to The Book Whisperer.
Flying Books A moment in my classroom that made a difference to a few kids. At the end of the semester, a couple of them came and asked me if they could still check out books from my room even if they didn't have me for class next semester. Now that's success.
Let It Be Me More than my teaching, I am passionate about my students. There are always a few I would take home with me if I could. This piece and the poem Throw Away Kids are about two of my students this year. Unfortunately, the young lady in this piece has dropped out of school (well, technically, she's being home-schooled). I'm happy to say, the young man from Throw Away Kids and Just Gone is back and with me.
Time This post ran through my head so many days that it almost wrote itself.

So, from Chloe and I, our favorite posts. Thanks for stopping by!

A Peek Inside: My New Notebook

2011-12-26T08:12:00.000-08:00

I started a new writer's notebook last month--my geekiness is showing, isn't it? I love it. It's actually a notebook that I sent for a year ago and GOT FREE! A cool free notebook--does life get better than this?

I have found the perfect pens to use when writing in it. The right pen is always an important component in writing in my notebook, It's got to look good...

I've been playing with words in it. I did write a blog draft in it. I am adding others writing that inspires me. "Revolution for the Tested" by Kate Messner is one I turn to a lot.

The inside cover of the notebook has a copy of a journal card that my art teacher friend gave me entitled "Introduction".

Introduction

The last paragraph says,

We have to be willing to be observers.

To listen to leaves blow, to look for rare pennies and

to be anonymous.

Only then will our observations begin to

unfold, as we scribble, attack, write, draw, and scribble some

more until who we are slowly appears like invisible ink and

the pain stops for that split moment...and then we do it

all over again.

I apologize I can't credit this right now. When I get back to school I'll get the name of the journaling set. It's awesome.

I've used it with my freshmen and showed them how I add little snippets to it

A place I am comfortable/A place I am uncomfortable

I also copied a form from Angela Maiers that gave me permission to play!

Permission to play

I've stashed some previously written pieces into it. Who knows if they will see the light of day, but they are there. There's a list of ideas for blog posts, there's a list of things to include in a writer's notebook.

I'm excited to share this with my new classes in January!

So, what's in your writer's notebook?

Celebrations for the End of the Semester

2011-12-22T05:22:00.000-08:00

It's here. That most wonderful time of the year. Winter Break! For our district it is also the end of the semester. We've finished those projects and tests, said good-bye to those we won't have in class next semester, thrown away the trappings of the beginning of the year and are ready to move on.

But before I move on, there are a few things to celebrate:

As I listened to my sophomores give their graduation speeches, I was amazed at how much they had all grown. The skills they have picked up during the course of the semester showed as they stood in front of their classmates. Even the boys, notorious for their "Slacker Voice", stepped it up for this last speech. Students who read their speech looked up at us and spoke with enthusiasm. The students who took the time to memorize their speech were phenomenal! Some of the best speeches ever given.
The reflections written by my creative writing students show that I am on the right track with this class. I still am not whole class sharing as much as I would like, but they shared amongst their writing groups well. Most like that they are able to write what they want, when they want. Most liked that they could start a draft and abandoned it if it wasn't going the way they envisioned. I laughed as they also wrote that they learned to never throw a draft away because you never knew when you might want to work on it again.
Our new principal is wonderful. "Bossman" has been in the "line of fire" so to speak since day one. I am amazed at his resiliency and ability to keep smiling after the semester he has been through. He is the ultimate professional and treats his staff as such. It's been a long time since I had an administrator treat me like this. If you want to try something new, he is all over it. Finding you resources, sending you to observe finding the money....
The attitudes and behaviors of students in our building are improving--thanks in large part to our principal. The rules are the rules and they now know if they break them, there are consequences. Students are learning to respect that. Many of the graduation speeches in class talked about his arrival and how it was hard to adjust. They all acknowledge this was a change for the better. He won them over!

And now, on to second semester. I wonder what surprises it will have in store?

Thanks for Being Tough

2011-12-20T17:59:00.000-08:00

Dear Mrs. Day,

You know how most of my speech was about victory and survival? Well, ironically, I can't believe I survived that! I mean, my speech was better than I had expected, but I would never have DREAMED I could turn a four- minute speech into one that might just as well have been a perfect 6 minutes long! Thank you SO much for pushing me like you have in this semester! If you had gone any easier on me, my grade would be even worse than it is now (plus I would still be a chicken on the stage today!)

I often feel like I've failed kids. That I haven't done enough for them. But not this student. The student from the above email, I actually felt like I was picking on him at times.

He's in a wheelchair, you see. Spina Bifida. My instinct was to coddle him. But I soon realized, he had had enough of that. And it was his body that was handicapped, not his mind.

In addition to being in a wheelchair, he had also been home-schooled (Don't jump all over me. I have had some excellent students who have been home schooled. But some, including this one, don't have the skills, social and otherwise, needed to "survive" in the school setting).

In talking to Mom at conferences, she appreciated most of the challenges going to high school afforded him. She wanted us to be tough. And things happened that made me tough with him.

Fast forward to last Friday morning before school. It's our annual staff Christmas Breakfast potluck. We all look forward to it. Shortly before school starts, I see him sitting in his chair outside the library door. I just know he's looking for me.

"Mrs. Day, I really need more time for my speech. I haven't got it memorized, it's not long enough. I just need more time to prepare."

It's tempting to just say OK. But it is clearly written on the assignment handout I give all students that once the order is set for speeches, there is no changing. And if you ~~skip~~ are really sick the day you are supposed to give your speech, then you go to the end of the list. Or maybe, you just receive a zero. Depends on the case.

His case is this. Once he has a computer in his hand, it gets all of his attention. He hears nothing--not people talking around him, not bells, not directions. And even though somewhere in his backpack is a sheet entitled "Commencement Address" filled with all the important information one would need to complete this final speech, he doesn't remember this. Or if he does, like all students, he thinks he is the exception to the rule.

I explain all this to him. Again. (he also accidentally deleted his speech once during the time we were working on it)

"Go down to my room and go over the speech. You are giving it today. It might be short, it might not be memorized. But it is not fair to the people behind you on the list for you to get more time. It is now or never."

"Fine," he snapped as he rolled down to my room.

By the time class started and a few others presented, he was ready. And you know what? It was quite good. A little short. Not memorized. But good. And as you can see by the email at the beginning of this post, he learned more than just how to give a graduation speech.

SIlly Snippet Slices

2011-12-20T04:59:00.000-08:00

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Ok. So this last week has been crazy busy. You all know what I mean. The end of the semester craziness of:

semester projects (and getting them graded),
tests (and getting them graded),
portfolios (and getting them graded).

So, frankly, I haven't written since last week. Nope. Haven't even thought about it. Because on top of all the " of the semester, gotta cram it all in craziness", there's also the "Christmas is coming chaos". You know:

finding the perfect gift (and wrapping it),
baking the cookies (and frosting them),
Christmas cards (scratch that--maybe next year).

So not one word has escaped from my pen. However, that does not mean I haven't thought about writing. Here's the list of never written blog posts:

I even took pictures of my notebook!

I started a new writer's notebook. This makes me inexplicably giddy. It will have a decent start when my new writing classes start in January. I can't wait to show them how I use it. This notebook is so different from my old (but never forgotten) notebook. I bet it will fill up faster too. (On a side note--I found graph paper sticky notes while shopping last weekend. Those excited me also--I love writing notes on graph paper)
I'm frustrated with my English 9 class. New textbook that I don't feel comfortable with is the main cause. It got better as the semester wore on. I hope to have some time to prepare more over break. I also feel like my freshmen are really immature--not just socially, but in their reading and writing abilities. Need to fix that!
I'm thinking of tinkering with Creative Writing again. Sharing is still an issue, but I noticed that my students broke themselves into groups naturally and shared through that. Ruth's post on crit groups has me thinking. It's a much more comfortable way for students to share.
I revisited my New School Year Resolutions. Checked off The Book Whisperer. She and I really do think alike. I have created a new web site for English 9 (oh, did I mention in the craziness I took an online class on Google Apps?). It's finished for class, but I will definitely be working on improving it for the kids.
A student THANKED me for being tough on him. And trust me, that is a story in itself.
I continue reciting my quotes when things get rough: Attributed to Buddha, the first is Life is so very difficult. How can we be anything but kind? The other quote that I used as a mantra last summer and will continue to use throughout the year, You must be the change you want to see in the world. Mahatma Ghandi.

Whew! I really can't go a week without writing again! There's more, but I really have to stop and get ready for school. Semester tests start today! Yippee!

The Elf on the Shelf

2011-12-13T05:08:00.000-08:00

Thirty years ago an elf made an appearance at our house. He didn't look quite as fresh and new as this one. Especially as the years went by. Playing with two young boys tends to take a toll on an elf. But, even with all the abuse he took, he was an annual visitor to our home.

Elf generally made his appearance on December 1st. All of a sudden, he would just appear somewhere in the house. We've never had a fireplace, so we knew he didn't come down the chimney, We lived in small towns and didn't lock the doors much, so I suppose he could have gotten in that way. However he got in, his arrival was always an annual event.

Elf would spend the month with us, making sure the boys behaved themselves in those crucial days before Christmas. It was hard to keep track of him because he moved about the house at will. Sometimes he showed up in the playroom to watch the boys at play. Other times he sat in a kitchen window sill to make sure they ate all their supper. He liked to watch over them at night, so many times he slept in their room.

If the boys had an argument or didn't pick up toys, and sometimes when they were really good, Elf would disappear for awhile. Never for long, and he always came back, taking up his station on a shelf somewhere in the house. He liked to come down and play once in awhile, but the older the boys got, the less Elf got to play with them.

Soon, he just sat on a shelf.

Elf continued to make occasional appearances in our house for a few years after the boys were grown and gone. I think he was lonely and bored. There wasn't much to do without two young boys in the house. And finally, one year, he just didn't show up on the first of December.

I see all the "Elf on the Shelf" books and toys for sale now. He even has his own Christmas special now. The Elf is everywhere. Good for him. Success comes for those who wait....

But somehow, I miss the years when he was just ours.

Saturday Morning

2011-12-10T05:50:00.001-08:00

Hot coffee
Warm blanket
Paper read
Writing done
Homework Avoided.

A whine
Nose in lap

Put that computer down
Writer's notebook, be gone.

I need some morning hugs.

And it's cold with my new
Haircut
Share the warmth

What?

Another cup of coffee?

I'll just go sleep on the couch.

No Gifts With Cords

2011-12-06T04:51:00.001-08:00

I am a "What I Want for Christmas" list maker. My husband is not. I love to make long wish lists of things I would love to receive. My husband does not. I love getting other people's "What I Want for Christmas" lists. You guessed it--my husband does not. My philosophy is if you make the list long enough, you won't know what you are getting, but at least it will be something you really will enjoy. My husband believes it takes all the fun out of opening gifts because you already know what you got.

We "argue" about this every year. It happened again over the weekend as I left a "wish list" of books and music on the kitchen table. Problem was, at the time, there was only one CD on the music list. Evidently, it the one he was going to buy me.

So don't buy it. Look at the list of 15 or 20 books that are at the top of my book list. I'd rather have those.

Now, I'm sure some of you are thinking I'm being selfish, greedy, materialistic. Really, I'm not. Let me tell you a story.

Back when the boys were living at home we always planned a night for our own Christmas before our annual Christmas trip to Mom's. We'd fix a favorite dinner. Later settle in the living room and pass out gifts. The boys were pretty good at finding gifts for mom and dad on limited budgets, always striving for the gift that would mean the most. We'd take turns opening the gifts, appropriately oohing and ahhing over them.

But there was always one. One that my dear husband would qualify before I'd even open it. "Well, this one is kind of for all of us."

The dreaded gift with a cord.

One year it was a toaster we needed. Another year it was a blow dryer.

My question--if it's really for everyone, why is it wrapped and given to me?

Hence, my number 1 gift giving rule for men: No gifts with cords (unless it specifically listed on the aforementioned Christmas list).

If only I could teach him how to search the Amazon Wish list....

A Special Thank-You "You Matter"

2011-12-04T21:30:00.000-08:00

Just had to show off my new "You Matter" picture. The wonderfully talented Christy Rush-Levine made if for me (she also made herself a new header for her blogs). Of course, then I had to redesign my blog again to go along with it.

Christy is starting a new blog also for her former students--students who want and need books to read now that they are in high school. It's called Reading Beyond the Middle. I love that she is going out of her way to make sure they have good book recommendations to keep them reading long after they have left her classroom.

So this week's You Matter goes to Christy for going out of her way to make sure her students know they matter.

Middle of the Night

2011-12-02T08:46:00.001-08:00

3:22am

Ferocious barking coming from the kitchen. Not your " Oh my gosh, I saw a dog (reflection) in the window! Why won't that other dog play with me?" bark. Not "How dare that squirrel, rabbit, stray cat run across my yard!" kind of bark. This bark was of the "Danger! Danger Will Robinson!" variety (of course, at 3:22 in the morning, all barks could sound like that).

Chloe never barks in the middle of the night. Never.

I sit straight up in bed and let the sound register in my head. I walk to the front window and look out. So does Hubby. A red truck is backing out of our driveway. A red truck I have never seen before.

"Good girl, Chloe," I say. "This is a good time to bark in the house."

She wags her tail and leans against my leg, seeking comfort.

"Did you see that red truck go down the driveway?"

"Yea. Maybe they were just backing out to turn around."

"No. They were all the way up to the house. Who would do that?"

"Could it be the weekend paper starting?"

A check of the front door confirms....paper delivered.

We pat Chloe and turn to go back to bed.

Time

2011-12-01T06:36:00.001-08:00

Time is what prevents everything from happening at once. ~John Archibald Wheeler

My life is chaotic right now. I'm so tired at the end of the week, I can hardly wait for bed on Friday night. However, I put all the blame on the clocks in my life. This is how this morning went as I tried to make it to school on time for a 7:30am rehearsal (anytime kids are willing to rehearse at 7:30, I am going to be there!).

got up, according to my bedroom clock, at 6:14am (never mind that my dear hubby sets his clock 15 minutes ahead. So that clock is at 6:34!)
walked downstairs and it was 6:21am (I'm slow in the morning, but not that slow!) Start coffee and take a shower. 6:34 when I head to the living room, according to the clock on the stove--the one on the wall actually tells me it's 6:36
After checking email, Facebook, Twitter, and drinking a cup of coffee while watching the morning news, I left the living room at 7:04am and walked to the bathroom to dry my hair--arrived there at 7:07 (again, not that slow).
Got ready to leave the house. Kitchen clock said 7:21
Started car. Clock said 7:17 (Oooo, I'm speeding up!)
On school street the sign outside said 7:21(still good! I'll make it on time. Understand I only live five blocks from school. I should make it on time.)
Walked into school building. One cafeteria clock said 7:28 the other said 7:31 (really--I don't walk that slow!)
Office clock says 7:29
First hallway clock I pass says 7:30
Turn the corner to my room. Clock in my hallway--8:36!!!!!! Arrrrgggghhhhh.

Really--I'm not making this stuff up. I need to get my clocks together!

The Back Row Kids

2011-11-28T19:22:00.001-08:00

The view from my desk

Since last Tuesday, I've been contemplating a post called "The Front Row" on Otter Landing's blog. I keep thinking about those back row kids. It's hard for me you see, because I don't have a back row. I don't like to let kids hide.

Right now, my desks are arranged in rows (I change my room arrangement a lot). So, I often teach from the back of the room. That way, the back is the front and the front is the back. Those front row kids stay engaged because they want to be the ones to tell you the answers, but the back row kids are now in the front and they can't hide.

My desk is at the side of the room so that when I mix up the desks into little pods of three or four, the side is the front and the front and back are now the sides. Confused? So are the kids sometimes, but no one gets to hide.

I have also been a back row hider myself at times. I have been known to have my desk in the back. That really confuses the hiders in the back row, because now they are sitting beside the teacher. You can't hide when you are beside her!

I think that often the back row kids aren't really hiding. They are waiting, daring challenging you to create something so engaging that they have to come out of hiding. They want you to make them come out and participate. Make it worth their while.

I also believe that the back row hiders want to see if you care enough to connect with them or if you only concerned with getting through curriculum. So make those connections.

Talk to them outside of class--and not about school. Ask about their game the night before, how rehearsal is going, did they get a deer over the weekend, how their race went. And sometimes, go beyond the obvious. When NASCAR driver Dan Wheldon was killed back in October, I asked a young race car driver if it scared him to race after accidents like that. I got a great lesson in the difference in NASCAR and modified racing and why that kind of accident wouldn't happen in his races. But, he knew I had been thinking about him and cared.

Soon, the back row will come to you. They'll let you know about their game, their rehearsal, they'll bring you a picture of that deer.

And, once they come to you, you've got them. Now, you can sneak a little learning in on them. You see, back row kids don't really like to be preached to, lectured, or talked at. They want to do things. They want to be active. Personally, I try not to talk for more than 15 minutes, then we move on to an activity of some kind.

Relate. Talk. Do.

That's my philosophy.

And here's a little secret. It works with the front row kids too.

Thankful

2011-11-24T06:35:00.001-08:00

Ever notice how sometimes the blogging ideas seem to dry up and then all of a sudden, you have more than you can possibly write about? An overabundance of ideas have hit me this week, so the "Things I Am Thankful For" post had to wait until the end of the week.

1. My family: Although life may not always be perfect, although it may sometimes be a struggle, we have each other and can depend on each other.

2. My friends: I have the best. I know that anyone of them, at a moment's notice, would drop what they are doing and come to my side if I really needed them. And that's the most you can ask for.

3. My students: All of them, even the naughty ones, have made me a better teacher, a better person. And it because of them that I look forward to going to work every day.

4. My blogging friends: And that's what you are, you know. Although we have never met face to face, I feel like I know you. You have made this new adventure of mine take off and for that, I am truly grateful.

Happy Turkey Day

2011-11-23T04:55:00.001-08:00

It was my first Thanksgiving away from home. We had always managed to go home before, but this year, it just wasn't going to happen. We had moved further away and my husband had to work on Friday. A one day trip just wasn't in the cards. We were going to try it on our own. My dad and grandpa said they would come up, so at least we would have some family with us. But neither Greg nor I had ever cooked a turkey--that was the grown-up's job. Guess we were the grown-ups now!

The boys were small. Josh had just turned one and was beginning to talk. Mitch would turn six in a couple of weeks. Greg worked for days getting Josh to say "Happy Turkey Day" so that when Dad and Grandpa came he could say it to them.

Greg was in the kitchen, getting the turkey ready for the oven. The boys were with him, watching everything he was doing. He was digging inside, grabbing the bag of innards out. Evidently, the turkey was still pretty frosty on the inside.

"Dang, that turkey's cold!"

"No cold," Josh's little voice piped up. "Turkey happy!"

So Happy Turkey Day to all. Make many happy memories.

Thankful Memories

2011-11-22T18:10:00.001-08:00

I never planned on living in my hometown forever. Always knew that I would move away and start my life somewhere else (even though it ended up only three hours away). But I never considered what that really meant.

Kids sick and needed to miss a day of school? My friends called their moms, sisters or mother-in-law. Me, I had to stay home.

Family member with a serious illness? You can't just jump in the car and drive across town to the hospital to visit or stop by to see how everything's going.

Holidays? Takes some planning.

And then we met Tom and Brenda. Well, actually, Tom and I met first when we were Cub Scout leaders together, but it wasn't long before the four of us became close friends. Thanksgiving became our holiday because we couldn't spend it with family for a variety of reasons. For 20+ years we have spent this holiday together. Our kids have grown up celebrating with this other part of our family. And obviously, there are many, many memories.

The kids "painted" the turkeys for several years when we cooked them on rotisseries. It was their job to keep them painted with the melted butter. Those were the years we also did "turkey updates" with the camcorder--news reports that recorded the day for posterity!

The kids went sledding some years and played football and rode bikes in others.

I had to take one of ours to the ER the day after one year to make sure that the football injury wasn't more serious than what I thought.

Some years it was just our two families. But many times we had other "homeless" friends, those who needed a friendly place to spend the holiday. Sometimes friends just stopped by to join in the fun. The only rule was, you brought a dish to share that was important to your Thanksgiving memories. One year, when Tom and Brenda's oldest was home from college, he brought foreign exchange students to join us. Sushi was one of our side dishes that year.

Our sons and their families have their own plans this year. Tom and Brenda moved a couple of hours away two years ago, so my husband and I are driving there Thursday morning. Friends and family will join us. We'll cook too much food, laugh over old memories and make some new ones. We'll play cards and watch football. Some will head out Friday morning for Black Friday deals. And as always, we'll be thankful for friends who have become family.

My Author To Be is Published!

2011-11-21T09:10:00.001-08:00

I wrote about my "author-to-be" back in August. She, of the bangs in her face and disheveled clothes. She, who constantly wanders around with her nose in a book. She, who is writing, always writing.

She asked me a month or so after that post if I would let her take "Creative Writing 2" as an independent study. There really isn't a number 2 for this class, she just wants to write. So I said yes (unbelievably, a few more have asked!). She can't wait. I hope her enthusiasm for writing carries over to the others in the class!

She met me at the door Monday morning, bouncing with excitement--and I do mean bouncing. Hardly able to contain herself, she skipped and tripped over to meet me.

"Mrs. Day, I could hardly wait to show you this. I'm so excited and it's all because of you."

I'm trying to think what I could have done to elicit this much enthusiasm.

"Really, it's all because of you. Look!"

And she pulls out several sheets of well-worn paper from the envelope in her pocket. It's obvious that these papers have been shared and read many times in the course of a few days. She smoothes one out and then shows it to me.

"Look! Look! One of my poems is being published in a book! It's my 'I Am" poem. The one you made me keep working on and adding stuff to. Look! Here it is. It's all because of you!"

But it isn't all because of me. It's because of her. It's because she never gives up on a piece of writing. It's because she found a contest to enter her poem in. It's because she believes in herself.

"Allie," I say, "I am so proud of you." And I truly am.

My Favorite Holiday

2011-11-21T04:21:00.001-08:00

Thanksgiving. Plain and simple. It's my favorite holiday. There are no expectations except to be thankful for your life. How much better can a holiday be. Great food and thankful.

For me, Thanksgiving is peaceful. There is no running around buying presents or decorating. It's the calm before the storm, so to speak. Growing up, it was always a family holiday, spent with my mom's family. I remember waking up to wonderful smells on Thanksgiving morning (my favorite smell--the celery and onions sauteing butter.). Mom was always a bit frantic, trying to get as much done as possible before the family arrived. After breakfast, it was time to help and I was always in charge of three things:

1. Put together the relish tray: cleaning the green onions (I still don't know why anyone eats them!); filling the celery with some kind of cheese spread or peanut butter; cleaning and peeling radishes and carrots. I remember when I was in seventh grade I learned how to make radish roses. I spent forever making them so the relish tray would look nice. No one noticed and I never made them again.

2. I wish I had a dollar for every potato I peeled for a holiday meal. To this day, I hate peeling potatoes. I always thought one of my younger sisters would grow into the job, but I don't think they ever did...even when I complained. I'm sure I'll hear from them when they read this and they'll tell me everything they did for the holiday meals.

3. Getting down the "good china" and setting the adult table for dinner. I didn't always get to sit at the adult table, but I got to set it! One of my uncles brought the china back for Mom when he was stationed in Germany. It's beautiful and I love it. It goes to me when Mom passes away, but I don't know if I will ever use it. Maybe. We'll see. I haven't grown into a very fancy person.

One of my favorite memories from those years is of my maternal grandfather. The women would be in the kitchen, mashing potatoes, stirring gravy, checking the sweet potatoes, and he would sit in the corner of the kitchen, always in the way. Mom said he was sneaking a shot out of the liquor closet when he sat there, because Grandma would only let him have a beer or two. All I know is that now, whenever someone is just standing around in the kitchen and getting in the way, we call them Grandpa Ellifritz...and smile.

What to Write, What to Write

2011-11-15T06:27:00.001-08:00

5:30am. I awake like I do every Tuesday morning (my body just seems to know it is Slice of Life Tuesday!). Chloe greets me with morning hugs and kisses, I start the coffee and sit down to write.

Nothing.

Really. Nothing.

I couldn't think of a thing to write about today. And then I started reading other blog posts. And I met with my writing group. And the ideas began to flow.

So now I have a long list of ideas and I can't pick just one. So here's the list--watch for upcoming posts:

1. Linda at TeacherDance wrote about her beautiful granddaughter and what a "nice" baby she is. And that moved her thinking to the nice kids in class who sometimes get the short end of the stick when we teach. Thoughts to ponder. Even though I am always an advocate for the "bad boy", there's truth to this.

2. Christy at Living posted about her school being in the news for a bullying incident and how the news stated that the school did nothing about it. Always the bad news about what happens in school. She went on to share a very nice thing that someone at her school did. Much better news for me.

I've avoided writing about an incident at our school and the way it was handled in the press and community. But maybe now is the time. I don't know. But I know it's definitely time for some good news!

3. Ruth and Stacey both brought tears to my eyes as they wrote about those little moments with their children. I really miss those days with mine. I could start capturing some of those moments in my blog.

4. And as my class of really nice kids work on their presentations for their informative speech and talk about movies they haven't seen (Star Wars, Indiana Jones, anything black and white) I could write about movies and books I think they should read or see (although I really hate that when someone tells me what I should read or see).

OK. So now I have ideas to write about. But now my time is done :o(

Things That Go Bump in The Night

2011-11-12T06:55:00.001-08:00

A small noise from outside.
One we don't really hear,
but Chloe does.
The start of a growl comes deep from inside her.
A bark.

"What is it?" we ask.

Another noise,
Another growl,
Another bark.

Suddenly she flies.
Not to the door,
Not to the window,
But to my lap.

Is she trying to protect me,
This big, 60 pound ball of fur?

Nope.
Chicken dog needs to be protected
From things that go
Bump in the night.

You Matter: All Vets Everywhere

2011-11-11T07:27:00.001-08:00

I woke up this morning thinking about them--well, not just them, but all the Veterans I know. Cousins, nephews, former students, friends. They all matter. But there are two who are special, and I wondered what they were doing today.

I've written about them before. My "adopted sons"--students who through the course of years I became extremely close to. Josh, my reading machine, and Daniel, my former speech student; both are young men I am proud to know. But today, Veteran's Day 2011, I want to share my pride. They matter, you see, not just to me, but to all of us. They serve their country proudly.

I walked into the cafeteria for morning duty and looked around. The Veteran's were there in uniform, eating breakfast at a special table set up just for them They looked so proud in their uniforms. And there he stood in his Army fatigues, filling his tray in the breakfast line with the older Vets. I felt tears welling up as Josh came over and gave me a big hug.

The tears spilled during our Veteran's Day assembly as I watched him, in uniform, sit in front of our junior and senior high school students. Josh said it best when he spoke briefly. "Two years ago, I was sitting where you are, listening to the Vets. Last year I was in Afghanistan. Today, I am proud to stand next to these men up here."

And we are proud of you--both of you--all of you--for serving your country with pride and dignity.

Thank-you.

Another Vet who matters to me is our nephew, Kyle. He and others have started a company called Oscar Mike, run by and for the benefit of disabled Vets. Check out their new video and their web site

I AM OSCAR MIKE from OSCAR MIKE on Vimeo.

"Tis the Season

2011-11-09T09:36:00.000-08:00

Today is our first late start of the winter season and I am basking in the moment. Snuggled up in my blanket, coffee and Chloe at hand, I am just enjoying the unexpected freedom. There are many thing I could be/should be doing. But they will wait until I am ready to face them.

Possibly today, but maybe tomorrow
Really, I promise.
Only don't count on it if it snows
Cause then, all bets are off.
Readying myself for
A crazy
Schedule.
Trying to stay focused on work,
Instead being dragged away by
New
Activity on Facebook and
Twitter.
Imagining a day
Of
Nothing but nonsense.

Hard Work

2011-11-08T04:05:00.000-08:00

So, this whole NaNoWriMo thing isn't going so well. Writing 1,667 words a day is HARD WORK! And when you pile that on top of teaching teenagers all day-- reading writing and assessing their learning-there isn't much left of me at the end of the day. Some contest speech practices have started also, and I'm getting ready to start the rest. Oh, and have I mentioned that writing 1,667 words a day is HARD WORK!

I started the month well. The writing flowed, the characters were strolling into my mind and letting me in on their story. Fantastic. And then the reality hit. Oh yeah. I have a job. There were commercials to grade, papers to read, lessons to plan. Oops. On the plus side--if I ever become independently wealthy, writing won't interfere with my work life. But I have a feeling writing 1.667 words a day will still be HARD WORK.

The weekend came. A good time to catch up, right? Nope. Our youngest son and his family came. And who in their right mind would try and write while there is a baby to play with, and first grade to find out about, and who knew all that went on in preschool nowadays. So, I cooked, I played, I rocked. But I didn't write. Not one word.

Not even a blog post. And I missed that.

This morning I will meet again with any students who show up to our NaNoWriMo support group. Last week we discussed writing platforms, and how writing 1,667 words a day is HARD WORK! We talked about how to find time in our day to accomplish it. We all decided that worrying about daily counts just didn't work for us. That weekly goals would fit our lives better ( how can I tell them I failed at that too???). And no one shared what they wrote. Too early, I guess.

After all this whining, am I quitting? Nope. The characters are still talking and their story still needs to be told. I'm back to writing in the morning. It seems to be the best time. If I write before my life starts, I listen to them better. I'm just not going to worry about 1,667 words a day. Or 50,000 words in a month. I won't be a "winner", but I will still be a writer on a journey.

Let the Wild Rumpus Begin

2011-11-01T04:28:00.000-07:00

I am officially crazy. In the midst of a crazy school year, with contest speech starting, I am participating in NaNoWriMo. You've heard about it. That insane challenge to write a 50,000 word novel (about 175 pages) in one month. 30 days. That's 1,666 words a day.

I didn't mean to. Hadn't planned to. But the whispers in my head haven't gone away. They keep giving me little snippets of life--just enough to keep me interested. Just enough to make me want to dig up more about them. Just enough questions that need to be answered.

This, and several students are doing it and want me to join them. We are going to meet on Tuesday and Thursday mornings for our own writing group. We'll share successes and failures. Talk about our writing. Give each other pep talks. And I imagine, a little food will be involved.

Just thought I'd warn you, in case you don't hear from me for awhile. I'm taking the plunge and will be drowning in an ocean of words--I hope.

"Let the wild rumpus begin!"

You Matter Sunday

2011-10-30T19:36:00.000-07:00

We've been friends for almost a quarter of a century. We raised our kids together--everything from diapers to driving. We cheered those kids on through rock bands and basketball teams, high school musicals and college tests, dating to weddings.

We bought lake trailers next door to each other. Learned to golf together (although she is now MUCH better than I am).

We cried and hugged through the deaths of parents and the birth of grandkids. I can't imagine her not in my life.

She is one of the strongest women I know and also one of the best friends. She taught me how to stand up for myself. She got me to go out and have fun and until this year, always rode the roller coaster with me.

She buys me presents she keeps for herself. Or gives them to me early so she doesn't keep them for herself. She always has chocolate stash that she willing shares if I need it.

She keeps treats for the dogs in the area, although her family says she doesn't like dogs.

She shares my love of Bobby Sherman, the Osmands, the Jackson 5 and American Idol.

We know the same "lullabies" and can sing the words.

She cries easily and loves fiercely.

She's my friend and today is her birthday. We can't be together, but I want her to know how much I love and appreciate her. Today and always.

Little Things

2011-10-28T06:14:00.000-07:00

It was a week of big things: Two nights of conferences, post observation conference, and the commercial project in speech. How was I going to focus on one little thing like Ruth challenged us to do in her post? Looking at the big things took all of my time!

But this morning as I uploaded pictures from a visit to our oldest son's last weekend, I found myself smiling--at the happy, giggling smiles of our grandkids, the proud smiles of our son as he holds his youngest, Grandpa's smiles as he plays with them all.

How
Can something so small
and perfect
Create such a
Large swell of feeling
Inside me?

How
Can those upturned corners
and sparkling eyes
Melt my heart and
Make my arms ache?

How
Can the giggles that escape
and grab my soul
Still be there
Today?

But those smiles weren't the only ones that I thought about:

Student smiles as they walk into my room, excited to work on the current project. They talk, they giggle, they show me what they've done.

Parents step into my room with such trepidation. Each one wondering/worrying that I will have something bad to say. Each one hoping I will make a difference in their child's life. Each one smiling as they realize that I truly like their child--even the naughty ones--and will do my best to give them what they need, whatever that may be.

Stepping into my principal's office after conferences for a conference of my own. My first real evaluation in an extremely long time took place last week. We were meeting for my post-observation conference. His smile and welcoming words put me at ease immediately.

A simple little thing that makes the world a better place....

Of Course, It's Monday!

2011-10-25T04:55:00.000-07:00

A typical high school Monday--a little bit of everything and conferences to boot!

The morning went well. Kids worked pretty hard on their commercials. Almost all of my alternative school kids showed up. And someone put apple bars in the lounge.

Life was good.

Until after lunch.

Two groups were working in the hall and in the reading/writing center outside of my room. Something that goes on most every day. I was in the classroom when I heard a crash/clank. I went into the hall...

"What?" Surly voice, surly look, defensive posture. This was not good.

I give my best teacher stare, "What is going on?"

"He called me a c&*^%*%$er," the surly one replies (rather calmly, I might add).

"He laughed at our story," an angry young man on crutches answers, "And then he kicked my crutches!

Dealing with 16-year-old boys for quite a few years, I am not surprised by the language, but I am angry about the crutch kicking!

"I'll see you both at 2:15."

That should end it. Meeting with Mrs. Day after school normally ends a confrontation.

Normally.

The jawing and posturing continue. I don't catch it all because they are mumbling under their breath. All I know is this is escalating at a rate I don't like.

I snap my fingers and point. "With me!" I command, with no room for refusal.

I march them to the office, a place where I hate to dump my problems, but this situation quickly became out of control and I needed to diffuse the situation.

On the bright side, a parent thanked me at conferences last night and said they see a real difference in their child. More confidence, more self-esteem, more enthusiasm for school. And they credit my speech class for a lot of that.

See, Mondays aren't all bad!

Whispers

2011-10-23T18:49:00.000-07:00

They speak to me at odd times. Sometimes in the morning during a quiet cup of coffee. Sometimes while I play outside with Chloe. Last week, they kept whispering to me during Creative Writing and I just had to put down the papers I was reading and write down their stories.

Will they continue sharing with me? Do they want the world to know about them?

Or will they continue to just whisper, never fulling revealing who they are?

Harriet the Spy

2011-10-21T07:37:00.000-07:00

What a coincidence! My post yesterday for National Day of Writing credited my love of writing back to when I read the book Harriet the Spy as a child. I wanted to be Harriet. I wrote in my own little notebook as I spied on the world around me.

Then, this morning I am checking my Twitter feed (mrsday75) and a tweet by Sharon Creech caught my eye. All it said was "Harriet the Spy" and gave a link to the Children's Book Almanac site. Who knew that on October 21, 1964 Harriet the Spy was published. And somewhat controversially, it seems. Harriet was a new kind of children's character in the '60's.

And, I wasn't the only child to want to be Harriet.

Now, if you'll excuse me. I need to go revisit an old friend's neighborhood!

Why I Write: National Day of Writing

2011-10-20T04:59:00.000-07:00

What I write:
Grocery lists
To-do Lists
Scattered Poetry
Scrapbook journals
Diaries
Journals
Comments to kids
Notes to colleagues
Thank-you notes
Facebook messages
Tweets
Birthday cards

Why I Write:
To keep in touch
To Share
To Learn
To Explore
To Rant
To Create
To Give Encouragement
To Leave a Mark
To Record My History

But really, I write because I always wanted to be Harriet. You remember Harriet...Harriet the Spy ? After I read that book, my life changed. I took my little writer's notebook and roamed our neighborhood, spying on the neighbors and writing down what I saw. I wanted to be Harriet.

Eventually, that writer's notebook became a diary. I wrote down inconsequential things that meant nothing to no one. I remember keeping real feelings locked inside and only wrote down what I thought people wrote in diaries.

Mrs. Henke and Creative Writing entered my life in high school and along with her a love of writing poetry (notice I didn't say a love of teaching poetry). My diary became a journal (really--what is the difference if it still is full of the inconsequential), and my writing became the fluff of silly teenage girls everywhere.

With college and an English minor, I wrote as I imagined the great writers wrote. Stuffy. I hated it. And writing left my life for a good long time.

Except, of course, for the annual Christmas letter, which I tried to make as creative as possible.

And, now, I'm back. Writing for me. Writing because I can't imagine not writing. Writing about life so the world (well, mostly the grandkids) knows I was here. Writing so others know I cared.

But, seriously, I write because deep down, I still want to be Harriet!

Thief of Dreams

2011-10-18T04:25:00.000-07:00

Inadequacy
Creeps in,
Stealing creativity,
Squashing ideas,
Putting out the fire.

Inadequacy screams,
Better than you have tried and failed.
Inadequacy whispers,
Just shut your door and teach.
Inadequacy writes,
What makes you think you are good enough?

Inadequacy,
The thief of dreams.

It's Not the What, It's the Who!

2011-10-13T04:24:00.000-07:00

It's 5:00am and I woke early. Not sure why, but I am. I was going to post about being evaluated today, but I read blogs and checked Twitter instead.

I reread Christy's Slice of Life from Tuesday again because I love the way she wrote her post about the young man in her classroom. The intro, especially, grabbed my attention and I wanted to use it today as a mentor text with my freshman. But most importantly, she is connecting and making difference in that young man's life.

I read a new blog for me, but one I enjoy, JennM at I Hablo Espanglish. She made an analogy to the starfish story and two students at school. One she kept from being bullied at lunch, one she helped get her locker fixed. She made a difference in those two lives.

And then Michelle tweeted a post. I generally read anything she tweets about because it's usually good stuff! And it was again this morning. A new blog to follow Justin Stortz at Pursuing Context. Justin comes right out and says the important theme running through these blogs--It's not what we teach, but who!

So, as I go back to looking over my lesson for today, as I make sure my room is in order and the SmartBoard works, as I teach a mini lesson on writing great leads for their personal narratives, I need to remember that the what I am teaching is not the most important thing in the classroom--although it might be the easiest thing to observe and evaluate.

These are

Living and Learning With Passion

2011-10-11T05:47:00.000-07:00

Last week was Demonstration Speech week in my speech classes. I think it's my second favorite speech that students give. With this speech I learn my students' passions. I learn what gets them excited about life. Students who may struggle with other speeches shine when they give this one because this is where they live and love. This is something they enjoy.

I took pictures for the yearbook of students presenting their speeches, and wish I had them with me to include. You see, the speeches don't just take place in my classroom. The kids present everywhere. We were in the gym (lots of volleyball speeches), the parking lot (I think I could change my own tire after that one), on the track (learned to throw a shot put and do the long jump), and the back lawn behind the building (I can throw a pretty good spiral now).

Passion.

And then Friday night at the lake, we had a little jam session in the store at the resort:

Here are guys, doing what they love. It might not be their job, but they kept their passion in their life. Some plays gigs on weekends, but they all play for themselves and for the joy it brings to their life.

Passion.

Today, I traveled with four like-minded teacher friends three hours from our hometown to visit another high school. We're observing a new way to teach kids. We'll be observing in classrooms of what I am sure are other like-minded teachers. We have one thing in common--finding new and better ways to reach students. We are passionate about our teaching and becoming better at it.

Passion.

What's yours?

2 Songs

2011-10-10T04:43:00.000-07:00

2 Songs

If I can only choose two songs, then I would have to choose songs that make me smile.

1. I'm Yours by Jason Mraz
2. Down At the Twist and Shout by Mary Chapin Carpenter

Both make me happy and I can sing along to both of them at the top of my lungs (not that you'd want to hear me).

3 Films

2011-10-09T07:05:00.000-07:00

3 Films

This might be as hard as the four books! Although maybe not a surprise:

1. Gone With the Wind: I also saw the movie with my grandma when I was 11 or 12. In the theatre. Truly my favorite and one of my favorite memories.

2. Wizard of Oz: Again a movie with lots of memories attached and one of my favorites. This could be a blog post all on its own! And just might be!

3. August Rush: My husband and I watched this movie a couple of years ago. It is such a beautiful quiet movie about a young musical prodigy who uses his music to find his birth parents. The soundtrack is one of my favorite things to listen to in the car.

4 Books

2011-10-08T18:34:00.000-07:00

4 Books

This will be hard. How to choose only four books?????

1. Gone With the Wind: The first grown-up book I read. I was 12. I have loved it ever since and find something new to enjoy every time I read it. A must have...

2. Inkheart: I fell in love with this whole series. But the first adventures of Meggie in the Inkheart world are my favorite. For anyone who has disappeared into a book they were reading....

3. Rebecca: This is another book that I discovered as a teen and I love it to this day. This would satisfy my need for suspense and mystery.

4. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Doesn't a Harry Potter book have to be on a list?

5 Foods

2011-10-07T05:08:00.000-07:00

5 Foods

1. Skippy Honey Nut Creamy Peanut Butter: No other will do. In fact, if by chance another brand or another "flavor" shows up in my cupboard, it's probably for cookies or Chloe (she loves a little peanut butter in her Kong). Peanut butter goes with everything--one of my favorites is as a dip for apples.

2. Grilled steak. I don't usually order steak when we go out to eat because my husband and friends do such a terrific job on the grill.

3. Warm chocolate chip cookies and milk. I don't think this really needs any explanation. A wonderful comfort food.

4. Homemade soups: I love to make homemade soup of any kind. They are all my favorites: chili, chicken and noodles, beef and noodles, beef stew, cheeseburger, chicken enchilada.....mmmmmm.

5. Chocolate: I have to have my piece of chocolate every day. And I have cravings for different kinds of chocolate. Sometimes I want brownies, sometimes a snicker bar, sometimes ice cream. It just depends.

Day 6

2011-10-06T13:12:00.000-07:00

6 Places

1. Sandbar Beach Resort: My favorite place in the world. Home of my soul.

2. Louisiana: If I have lived a past life, I'm sure it was here.

3. Barnes and Noble: Is there a more perfect store in the world?

4. My room at school: It's me. It's mine. My home away from home.

5. Vegas: I don't know why, but I love it's tackiness

6. Any theatre, anywhere. If you can put on a live show there, I love it.

Day 7

2011-10-05T04:32:00.000-07:00

7 Wants
1. I want to end bullying in my school--heck--I want to end it everywhere, but you have to start someplace.

2. I want to win the lottery and then create a technology wonderland in my classroom. Of course, first I'd have to have more than two plug ins in my room :)

3. I want a Prius.

4. I want to go back to Vegas--I'm thinking the four days off over my birthday might be a good time.

5. I want to wake up and be a size 12.

6. I want someone to come in and redecorate my house---of course, they'd have to clean it really well also. And they'd have to convince my husband to throw away the last 50 years of his life!

7. I want to see a Broadway show ON BROADWAY.

Let It Be Me (part 2)

2011-10-04T04:50:00.000-07:00

Check out other slice of life stories at
Two Writing Teachers

"Really, those people don't matter. Just ignore them. I know it's hard, but really, they don't matter." Those words propelled me out my classroom door and I saw her. Swollen red eyes, sniffling nose, dejected look on her face. My girl, my project for the year.

A former student accompanied her--another one of the lost souls who roam the hallways of high schools. Now the mother of two children, she speaks to my girl from experience.

"High school stinks. But get through it. It won't matter when you are out. I promise. I talk to those same people now and it's all different."

"I just want to go home," she sniffles.

"Walk with me," I answer.

I put my arm around her and the three of us walk up the hall.

" You matter to me," I tell her. "I want you to be in my class this afternoon. Somewhere, deep inside you, you have to find the courage to ignore them and take care of yourself. I know it's hard. I know you don't want to. Talk to your teachers. Tell them what is going on. Ask them to move you in front of their desk. Stand up for yourself. Don't let them win."

I talked and talked and talked. I hugged. I pleaded. I left her sitting in the counselor's office with her friend. I hoped she would be in class today.

She was. And before she left for the day, she turned to me and said

"Thank-you for talking to me this morning."

I patted her on the shoulder and answered, "Thank-you for making it to class. I'm proud of you."

Sometimes we don't know if what we've said ever sinks in, but every once in awhile, you have a moment like this and we remember why we teach in the first place--the kids.

Day 8

2011-10-03T13:51:00.000-07:00

8 Fears
1. Something bad happening to a family member.

2. Staying overnight alone. I hate it. I still "let" my husband go on his weekend trips to his brother's or fishing with our son. I just don't like to be home alone over night.

3. Saying something that will seriously damage a student. I can be sarcastic. I need to watch that!

4. Heights. I don't even like to walk on the dock at the lake. Freaks me out. And getting into a boat is scary too. I do it because I don't want to be left out, but....

5. Snakes and other creepy crawlies (but not bugs).

6. Things that go bump in the night---you know what I mean. You wake up to a strange sound and stay awake trying to figure out what it is. I'm just a big chicken.

7. Hitting a deer on the road at night. I've done it once. Don't want to do it again.

8. Making a fool of myself and having people laugh at me. I laugh at things I do a lot. But I'm always afraid that I will do something really stupid that I won't think is funny, but those around me will.

I fight through most of these fears and face them whenever they come up. But they are still fears....

Day 9

2011-10-02T18:09:00.000-07:00

Nine Loves

Obviously, friends and family would top the list. I'm opting for nine other loves

1. My Job! Even though it can be trying. Even though there are days I would rather not go back. Even though teachers don't always get the respect they deserve. I love my job and can't imagine doing anything else with my life.

2. My Students (current and former)

3. Sunday night baths. Don't call me at 7. I am unavailable. Every Sunday night since the boys were babies this has been my time. And no one disturbs me.

4. Rainy days where I can wrap up in a blanket and read all day.

5. Snow days. Shhh. Don't tell my husband!

6. Warm chocolate chip cookies and milk. 'Nuff said.

7. Tuesday wine night. My husband works later on Tuesdays and it has become my habit to have glass of wine while dinner cooks.

8. Sandbar Beach. Our lake place and it truly is the most wonderful place on earth.

9. Really good chocolate ice cream.

I laugh as I read this list. I sure like to baby myself. But it I don't do it, who will?

You Matter Sunday

2011-10-02T06:36:00.000-07:00

Today's shout out goes to the entire staff at Crestwood High School. This includes not only the teachers and administrative staff, but the paras, nurses, secretaries, and custodians. No matter what gets said around town, you are making a difference in the lives of the teenagers we see every day.

I watch as you arrive early to work with the kid who just doesn't get it.
I watch as you stay far beyond 4:00pm to do the same thing.

I see that you take students under your wing and give them the love that they aren't getting at home (and sometimes the kick in the rear that they need!)
I see you cry when bad things happen and you don't know what to do.

You take on jobs without extra pay because it's good for kids.
You work hard at creating a welcoming, learning environment.

For all this and more, You Matter.

10 Day Challenge

2011-10-01T06:50:00.000-07:00

Reading the blog of a former student, I found that she has started this blogging challenge. I don't know where she found it, but I liked it. So here we go. 10 secrets

1. I am a terrible procrastinator. If I can put it off, I do.

2. Teaching still scares me. I'm always worried I will screw some kid up for life!

3. I love sappy movies and books that make me cry. They don't need any literary merit what-so-ever.

4. I still love Saved By The Bell.

5. My grandkids really are the smartest and the cutest kids on the planet. Sorry for the rest of you.

6. I've read Gone With the Wind about 20 times. I used to read it every summer. I've probably seen the movie that many times also!

7. Appearances are deceiving--I'm very disorganized.

8. I am a "bleeding heart liberal". Wait--maybe that's not such a secret....

9. If it's on sale and I have a coupon, I'll probably buy it--even if I don't really need it.

10. It's hard for me to share the inner-most me, so these secrets are really superficial.

Versatile Blogger

2011-09-28T06:14:00.000-07:00

What a fantastic way to start a gloomy Tuesday! I began the morning like I do every Tuesday--going to my blog to begin my slice for the week. And that's where I found that Linda from TeacherDance had named me a Versatile Blogger. I had never heard of this, so of course I HAD to google it (what did we do before Google?) I still didn't find much out about how this award got started, but I still liked the idea of recognizing blogs that inspire you.

I started blogging early this year and began reading lots of blogs. Some good, some not-so-good. The good ones provided LOTS of inspiration and I am not ashamed to say that I "stole" some ideas for my posts. This is a great way for me to say "thank-you" to my new friends in the blogging world.

Here's the "rules" for the award:

Thank the person who nominated me and provide a link back to their blog
Share seven bits of information about myself
Pass the award along to 15 other blogs that I have discovered

First of all, thank-you Linda for the award. I feel like we would be great friends and colleagues if we lived at least in the same state! Your comments on my blog EVERY DAY are sometimes what keeps me going. It's also nice to know that I am not alone in my beliefs about teaching reading and writing. If you hadn't nominated me for this, I would have nominated you!

7 Bits of Information About Me

If my husband and I had the room or lived on an acreage, we would have LOTS of dogs. We would either board them or raise them. I'm afraid if we tried to breed dogs though, we'd never sell any of them. As it is, we will have to be content with Chloe.
I didn't begin my teaching career until I was out of college for about 10 years. I was an assistant manager at a country club, I subbed in many different schools and stayed home with my boys during that time span. When I finally began my career, I KNEW for sure it was what I wanted to do.
I love technology and what it can do. I am exploring the idea of a "flipped classroom" for my creative writing class. More on that in future blog posts.
My two sons and their wives have all gone back to school and three of the four of them have blogs of their own. I like to think I'm a part of that.
Six grandkids--how did that happen? (I know HOW it happened, but how did I get old enough to be a grandparent?)
I can count on one hand the number of students I can honestly say I didn't like. Not bad for 20 years of teaching.
I procrastinate too much. Right now I have tests to correct and it isn't going to happen.

My 15 Blogs of Inspiration

Two Writing Teachers: Poor Ruth and Stacey have been mentioned in almost every blog I've read, but they are true inspirations to many of us. They teach, they write, they keep other blogs. But if it wasn't for their March Slice of Life challenge, I'm not sure I'd still be blogging.
Ruth Ayers: Ruth's personal blog about her writing life is a constant source of inspiration for both my personal writing and my creative writing class.
Stacey Shubitz: Stacey's blog about her life outside of the classroom.
Diana at onelitcoach: I began reading Diana during the slice challenge. She had wonderful stories and pictures about her childhood. Now I am following her stories about working with teachers in classrooms. Another person I am sure I'd be friends with if only we lived in the same town.
Christy at Living: One of those young teachers who keep me on my toes. Christy is always sharing wonderful ideas from her classroom and her life.
Tam at Clay Fragments: She is showing us all how to retire from the classroom but not from being a lifelong learner.
Donna at Mainly Write: A great blog of personal and professional writing.
Storykeeper at Windows 2 My Life: Beautiful stories and poetry.
Chuck at 2000 Hours: An Iowa teacher who is documenting the hours he spends on school work or professional development outside of his school day.
Allen at Living Life Twice: I respect his teaching and writing so much that when I get a comment from him (or he LINKS to me from his blog) I feel like I have one the Nobel Prize for writing!
Mardie at Mardie's Muse: A kindred spirit.
Libby at Fountain: My (ex) roomie. Her posts always make me laugh or cry--sometimes both!
Tanya at Blue House Studio: Another teacher friend. She shares her beautiful photography.
Jana at Thinking Out Loud: She shares great things!
Kasey Buick: My guilty pleasure blog. She and her family have pulled up roots and moved to Hawaii. The stories and pictures she shares are marvelous!

Whew! This is a long one! Thanks to all of you for being an inspiration to me!

Chloe Teaches Teaching

2011-09-27T04:32:00.000-07:00

As with most mornings, Chloe is trying to get my attention and I am trying to accomplish something. She is much like my teenagers at school!

When Chloe and my kids whine about things, they need a little attention for whatever reason. They need a little stroking. They need to know I care. If they don't get the attention, they will do something that gets my attention. Usually, not something good....

Repetition of routines until everyone gets it down--yep, even high schoolers need repetition of routines. They need the "this is how we do things in Mrs. Day's room" modeling. So does Chloe---then she knows what to expect.

Along with repetition, they need consistency. They need to know if they do something well, this happens. If they are "naughty", this happens. The rules don't change from one day to the next.

They get bored, though. If you don't mix it up a little. If you don't have a new "toy" to throw out there, a new way to get their attention, they get bored. And when they get bored, they get into trouble. Then we all get grumpy.

And we all need a little fun. Sometimes, we just have to put the books away and enjoy each other. We talk, we play, we laugh. This is the lesson I need to remember!

Banned Book Week: Don't Let This Happen to YOU!

2011-09-26T08:23:00.000-07:00

You Matter Sundays

2011-09-25T06:24:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been thinking about this blog a lot and the format for it. I knew it would be easier to come up with topics to write about if I designated certain days to certain topics. Now I don't want to be limited to writing about Chloe only on Tuesdays or my classroom only on Fridays. But themes might help me write through some writer's block. And then this morning I watched this video from Angela Maiers

Now, Angela gave this talk in June and the video has been roaming around on the internet for awhile--especially around my area because Angela works with our school district periodically. I love her. She inspires me to be a better person. She matters.

But lots of others in my life matter also--family, students, friends, co-workers, fellow bloggers...well, you get the picture. So after watching this video, I decided I would make Sundays my "You Matter" day. A day to write a post telling my world why they matter to me.

This week I'd like to tell you about my new principal and why he matters--

Tim Felderman is young--heck, I think I have dust bunnies under my bed older than he is. But he is a keeper. He tries to visit classrooms EVERY day. Imagine that. A high school principal who comes into your classroom just to see what you are doing. He's enforcing rules that have been around awhile but were not always followed.

He laughs. Even when the jokes on him.

He listens. Even when you don't say things out loud....

He notices. Even when you are trying not to be noticed.

He treats his teachers as professionals. Something some of us haven't felt in awhile.

So Mr. Felderman, this one's for you. You matter.

A Rant: Let's Just Take 'Em Out and Shoot 'Em

2011-09-21T15:32:00.000-07:00

I know that teachers get tired of student behavior. I understand there needs to be consequences for "bad behavior". I believe consequences should make sense for the offense. But honestly--sometimes I believe all some think of is "How can I get this kid." As my (ex) roomie tweeted, "When did we forget we're here to help not hurt?"

side note: I have found that tweeting my thoughts during inservice keeps me from going crazy.

Our new principal asked a simple question this afternoon.

(By the way--I love my new principal. He is doing good things in our building!)

What did we think was an appropriate length of time for both in-school and out-of-school suspensions? Talk about opening up a can of worms! The conversation led to what about the work that these students miss while they're not in class. Given? Not given? Graded? Not graded?

"People!" I wanted to scream. "We. Are. Educators."

But I didn't and I should have. I let the loud ones believe they are right and that I agree with them. I won't do that again. I hope.

Seriously.

(my first hour students would laugh at that word--they think I use it too much!)

Most of the students we are talking about (my wonderful SSB's, for the most part) need to be in school. They are having trouble in classes anyway! So the best consequence we can come up with is to take them OUT of class?????? Arrrrggghhhhh! And in the "worst case", out of school altogether????? Double Arrrrggghhh!

What does that accomplish? We give them a "vacation"--one that deep down most don't want. We take them away from those people who do care about them. We put them further behind in their classes if they get to do the work. And if they don't get to do the work, we punish them twice.

Great.

Way to let students know we care.

And if we really don't know what to do about them--let's send them to the alternative school. At least we won't have to deal with them.

Excuse the rant, but blogging really does make me feel better!

Random Acts

2011-09-14T15:32:00.000-07:00

Two random acts prompt this post--one positive, one negative. Both have me thinking about how my actions affect others. My mind is a jumble of thoughts and ideas about this, so I hope this post makes sense.

Random Act #1
The volleyball team and their supporters proudly wore their new t-shirts yesterday. They were cute. A team builder phrase on front. Unfortunately, one with a double meaning. My second thought when I saw them was, "Oh, this could be trouble."

And it was.

As I walked through the office, a young man wearing the shirt was standing there waiting to see our new principal to see if the shirt was school appropriate. Why only this young man? He's a former SSB! He's made bad choices in the past, but this year seems to be trying to correct himself. But where are the 20 others wearing this shirt? Nowhere to be seen. No one sent them to the office...

Unfair to pick on one. Totally. Unfair.

And demoralizing to the young man. I'm sure he thinks, "What's the point?"

We need to think about how our actions and words affect a person before we single them out.

(on the bright side, the team stuck up for this young man. Good girls!)

Random Act #2
Through Slice of Life I found a great post about a random act of kindness. A barista at Starbucks offered to make her a new cup of coffee after she spilled hers on the way out the door (You really need to read the post!). The Barista said to her, "I want to make your day better."

How awesome would this be if we all thought that in dealing with the people around us.

I wish I was that kind of person. Sometimes I am. But many times I am not. I had a chance after school yesterday to make someone's day better and instead opted for for making them do something they should do, but if I had done it, it would have made their day better. I wish I felt bad about it, but I don't. Sometimes people need to do things for themselves. But it would have been easier for me to do it and it would have made their day nicer....

So here's to thinking about how we affect others and making their day better.

Happy Dog

2011-09-13T05:16:00.000-07:00

Ears flapping, fur flying, she races in a crazy figure eight pattern in the backyard.

Freedom.

You see, we fenced in part of our yard for Chloe. We never did that for our other dog. Jake just always had a very long cable and never got to just roam the yard. But Chloe is the dog of our "golden years" and we spoil her just a bit.

She generally walks the yard with me and sticks close to my side. But every once in awhile, that crazy puppy energy takes over and she races around to get rid of it. Before the fence she stayed in the yard for the most part, but sometimes the energy propelled her across the street and into neighbor's yards.

She never ran away from me, she just raced to release all the energy.

She raced for fun.

I swear, she smiles as she runs.

Where Were You?

2011-09-11T06:38:00.000-07:00

"A plane crashed into a building in New York City."

A seventh grader said those words to me. He had heard that from another teacher. It was all we knew early that morning.

But the news became grim.

I made a decision to continue on with as normal routine as possible until we knew for sure what was happening. We turned on the TV the last ten minutes of class to watch the news of the event. I didn't think any of us, but especially twelve-year-olds, needed to watch the horrific news all day. To this day, I'm not sure it was the right decision.

I went home and sat glued to the TV. Tears fell often. The image seared in my mind is of a reporter giving her report when a piece of the Towers went down and then she was covered in ash.

I remember the deaths of JFK and his brother, Robert. Martin Luther King, Jr and John Lennon. I can tell you where I was when I heard the news. But this was different. I could see it happening. My kids and my students could see it happening. And this wasn't famous people killed by a crazy one.

This attacked us all.

Other reflections on 9/11

Reading Zone

Schwamman's Snippets

Billy Collins The Names

When I Grow Little....

2011-09-06T08:23:00.000-07:00

I love listening to how kids learn language. They use unique expressions to get their point across. They mix up letters in words--baseghetti, anyone. Or they say things like, "Can I flush the toaster?" (Really. Think about it.)

So conversations with my grandkids are always delightful.

Me: So Tony, how is preschool? Are you having fun?

Tony: Yep. I learned "Going on a Bear Hunt."

I recited the first line and asked if that was the right one. He assured me it was and proceeded to recite the whole thing (with actions, of course).

"I like that, Tony! Will you teach it to me?"

"Well, Gramma, when you grow little, maybe you will learn it at school."

When I Grow Little

When I grow little

I will sing with passion

Even if

I don't sing very well.

I will draw lots and lots

of pictures

And not care

that no one

Knows what I drew.

When I grow little

I will skip down the sidewalk, and

Wear my favorite clothes

(Even if they don't match).

I won't care what I look like

in a bathing suit.

I will take naps when I need them

(With my favorite toy).

When I grow little

I'll eat cold hotdogs for breakfast and

Warm cookies and milk for lunch.

I'll lick the frosting off my cupcake.

I'll make someone else kill the bugs and

take fish off the hook

(Even if they don't like them either).

I will say

"I love you"

a million times a day

(Just to make sure

they know I mean it)

And I will always start my day with

Morning Hugs

When I grow little.

A Change of Seasons

2011-09-04T07:35:00.000-07:00

As I sit in my swing, wrapped in a blanket drinking coffee, Chloe at my feet barking for the neighbor kids to come and play, I realize it's not just the calendar turning to September that signals a change in seasons. There's a chill in the air this morning. Fall seems to be peeking in the door and wanting to join the party here at the lake. Today the sun won't chase me from my comfy place to look for shade. Today it will be a welcome companion.

I love fall at the lake. There's just a different atmosphere during our weekend visits. After Labor Day the regulars come less and less. Especially those with kids in school. Just too many activities going on and not enough time to make it to the lake. The cabins aren't as full either with kids in school. It will be mostly fishermen coming on the weekends now. At times there will be more geese on the beach than people and more wood ducks swimming than kids. The sunsets have moved down the lake and we know that soon it will be time to close for the season.

I'll trade shorts and tank tops for sweatshirts and pants. The beach towels get packed away and the extra blankets come out. Life jackets also will find their winter home and warm jackets get used more and more.

Our group changes too. There are less visitors coming to stay (who wants to go to the lake in the fall?), so there is more time for us all to get together. We're just not in such a hurry after Labor Day. We still golf, but many times now we'll play best ball in very large groups just so everyone can be together. There won't be as many trips to Barefoot and the concerts at the park are finished for the year. Instead, we'll gather at the store to watch football games, play cards and eat. We'll grill less and have soup in the crockpot more. Summer salads and sweet corn will be a thing of the past. In their place we'll have "must-go" nights and we'll eat those things in the freezer that we just don't want to have to take home at the end of the season.

There are lazy mornings in pajama pants and sweatshirts with large mugs of coffee. We'll visit about how fast the summer went and make plans for get togethers during the winter. We start sorting through belongings and make decisions about what to leave over the winter and what needs to go home.

And we dream of the summers to come....

Guest Post

2011-09-02T10:48:00.000-07:00

The most nerve-wracking piece of writing I have done in a long time is posted at Two Writing Teachers.

Slacker

2011-09-01T07:52:00.000-07:00

Not the boy in the blog, but this is what he looks like

Usually in the hall he looks full of energy. He greets most people with high fives or the boy shove that is so popular. I get a "Hey, Mrs. Day." as he strolls into my room. There, he slumps in his desk in the front of the room (his choice) and waits for me to start class. Sometimes I swear his eyes glaze over as I speak. He will participate some days and when he does, he obviously knows what is going on. Some would say he should know what's going on--he's been through this part of speech before.

Head on his desk, eyes semi-closed. It's time to work on an assignment and his book isn't even open.

I've know this young man since he was a seventh grader, back when I taught junior high. Always a slacker, this is the third time he has been enrolled in speech. Oh, he's never failed it. He just never completes the semester. He moved one year and dropped out the next. So here he sits in my class. A senior, who must pass speech in order to graduate. How will that ever happen? Many would give up on him now. It's his problem if he doesn't pass.

But

Here's what I learned from a speech last week. He's working a forty hour week at a local factory. Goes in at 4:00pm and most nights gets off at 2:30am. He does his homework (when he does it) when he gets home because he can't go to sleep right away. He goes to bed about 4:00am. School starts at 8:15am. He usually gets up at 7:30am, quickly showers and dresses and races to school from a small town about eight miles away. No breakfast.

That's why his eyes glaze over and he wants to sleep in class.

We talked about him at lunch the other day. One teacher didn't think it was legal for him to work those hours, even if he is 18, since he is still in school. We could probably call and report him to the factory or report the factory, but that won't help anything.

I think he needs the job and the money. I don't believe there is much support from home.

But, he also needs to graduate.

So, I've done the best I could. The guidance counselor and I decided that moving him to another class and moving his study hall to first hour might help. With a study hall first hour he could get homework done then. And if he would fall asleep, at least it's study hall and not a class.

They didn't teach me about this in methods class....

Update
I wrote this piece this morning before school. I've since learned that the GO talked to him yesterday and the young man refused to change classes. He thinks it is better to have a morning class because it gets him moving for the day. Of course, he didn't show up for class this morning...

Things That Made Me Smile

2011-08-30T06:53:00.000-07:00

I read a blog post today that gave some great ideas for activities in writer's notebooks. Since we are really just getting a start on ours, I thought we would try some of these this week. I apologize I'm not linking to the post. I found it on Twitter at home this morning, but when I come to school and the link is blocked by our AEA's firewall. Grrrrrrr.

But that's another blog post.

Here's what we added to our notebooks today:

THINGS THAT MADE ME SMILE THIS SUMMER

1. Chloe swimming in the lake for the first time. Like a kid, she dipped her toes in the water, testing it out. Then a wave came at her and she decided it needed to be attacked. Chloe spent several minutes trying to catch the waves and eat them. Slowly she started walking out and then finally swam. When she got out of the water, she shook off and then ran around in circles like crazy.

2. The grandkids swimming on the 4th. Grandma's lake rule: You have to eat breakfast before you go outside. I think they broke the land speed record in downing those bowls of cereal. Clothes were never an issue. They just put the suits and life jackets on and down they went. Luckily, the beach is right across from the trailer so the adults could sit and have coffee and watch them. Every two hours or so we brought them up for a sunscreen and a snack. As the sunset, we made them come up and get ready for bed. There were no arguments!

3. The look on a friend's face when I showed up at the hospital before her surgery. She didn't know I was coming, but the look on her face when I walked up as she was standing in line to register was worth the early morning drive. Even better, the look on her face when she got to go home.

4. My new golf clubs and golfing with friends. Now, you need to know that I suck at golf. Really. But I look great on the course with my new clubs. And I have fun. I enjoy being with my friends, so it's all OK.

5. Concerts at Arnold's Park. We have our favorite bands that are don't miss events and we've checked out some new ones. It's always a fun night dancing and singing along. Good times.

6. The lake neighbor kids coming to pet Chloe in the mornings. They were all a little nervous at the beginning of the summer because she was sooo much bigger than last summer. But once I showed them how to approach her and convinced them that she just wanted to give them puppy kisses, they were hooked. Now they stop many times during the day when I am out just to see Chloe. I love their giggles as she licks them all over.

Other things that made me smile:
The boat dying in the middle of the lake and being towed in by a smaller boat.
Swimming
Being home
Pajama days
Rainy days
Sunny days
Making sangria
The lake neighbors setting up a screen and projecting fights outside--just like a drive-in
School starting

Yep--lots to smile about. And lots to write about! I hope my students find their lists as helpful as I find mine

Anatomy of an Author-to-Be

2011-08-24T13:51:00.000-07:00

Hair in her eyes, glasses perched on the end of her nose, ill-fitting clothes and a perpetual smile, appearance doesn't seem to matter to Allie, who long ago decided she was going to be an author--not a writer, an author. She walks down the street today with her nose in a book and I wonder how she walks and reads without running into a tree or falling over the cracks in the sidewalk. When I tell her that later, she giggles and tells me it has happened before.

I see her sitting in class, alone, reading whatever book she is reading at the moment. She was on a steady diet of R. L. Stine when I first met her as a seventh grader. I was bound and determined to get her to read something else. Allie was just as bound and determined to read what she wanted, no matter what I, or anyone else, had to say about it. Today, she still loves her teenage horror novels or once in awhile a love story, but you still aren't going to get her to read anything but what she wants.

When I happen upon her at lunch, it is often with a notebook and pen in hand. Not a diary keeper, she is constantly scribbling in them, usually another chapter in another novel she is writing. I wish I was as prolific as she. Constantly on the lookout for new readers for her work, she needs fresh eyes to appreciate and marvel at what she has written.

One day, I imagine, she will finally publish her first novel. She will still have her bangs hanging in her eyes. She'll still have to push her glasses up from the end of her nose. Clothes still won't mean a thing to her. She will tell the world that all she ever wanted in life was to be an author. She will go on and on about all the writing and reading she did to prepare for the day her first book was published.

And I will be proud to say, I knew her along the way.

The Flying Book Kids

2011-08-23T05:22:00.000-07:00

Last Friday I wrote about how the books flew(literally) into the hands of some of my students. As an English department we talked about making sure kids have independent books to read in class and how to make sure they get some reading time every week, so that was the reason for the flying books. The kids needed them for class. I often wondered over the weekend if any of them even looked at the book or if this was just crazy Mrs. Day trying to get kids to read again. Even though I knew I had found good books for them, I worried they wouldn't give the books a chance (Coincidently, I started reading The Book Whisperer by Donalyn MIller over the weekend. It's scary how alike she and I are.)

Fast forward to Monday.

One came in carrying Tears of a Tiger by Sharon Draper. "20 pages, Mrs. Day. Good Book."

The wrestler came in carrying Four Days to Glory by Mark Kreidler, a book about the state wrestling tournament here in Iowa. He didn't comment. HE SAT DOWN AND READ!!!!! And he read every time there was a break in the action! I didn't have the heart to tell him to put his book away (He did tell me after class that I was right, the book was really good).

In every class, students came in carrying books. Only one came up to me and asked if she had to finish the book she picked out or if she could get a different one. "Life's too short to read bad books," I told her. And then I asked if she needed help finding a new one.

"Nope," she replied. "I know the one I want."

So, I feel the flying books were a success. Books are in the hands of students and they are being read because the students made the choice.

I feel validated.

Enthusiasm

2011-08-22T11:09:00.000-07:00

Last week I read a blog post by Angela Maiers that made me sad (and her too!). She described a conversation with her children after their first day of school. What did her kids tell her about their first day?

Boring.

Now I know that many kids say school is boring and that many teachers say they aren't there to entertain kids.

However

It was the fact that none of her children's teachers expressed any excitement, enthusiasm or passion for the coming year that bothered Angela--and me!

And then, before school this morning, I took Chloe out in the yard for a few minutes before I left for school. She played fetch with me a few minutes, but then she took matters into her own paws. She picked up her leash in her mouth and began to run.

Chloe loves to run and I love to watch her run. She does it with such enthusiasm and joy. She runs for the love of running. And this got me thinking too.

I teach for the love of teaching. Really. I could and have taught many subjects (including 8th grade math, but that's a story for another day), but do I teach with enthusiasm and joy?

I try, but I don't know that I always succeed.

And so that is why my word for the week is ENTHUSIASM.

Let me share my enthusiasm for the spoken and written word with my students and those around me.

Starting now!

The Outlaws

2011-08-21T08:06:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to a free concert in Arnold's Park with my husband and a friend. They are both music lover's (not that I don't like music, but not like these guys!) and my husband, especially, had been looking forward to hearing the opening band, The Outlaws. I had never heard of them. Evidently they were around back in the 70's. It also happened to be the Polaris Victory Rally.

A motorcycle rally.
Motorcycles--something I will never understand.

But it was a great night for people watching. I didn't take my writer's notebook with me, but I sure filled it in with details when I got home!

Anyway, this poem comes from that experience.

The Outlaws

Graying,
Long-Haired hippies.
Faces lined with the
Evidence of hard living.
Trying to recapture
What it was like to be
Seventeen again.
Or twenty-one.
Or young.
Dancing in place
To music that resonates with them.
They feel it
Loud and pounding,
Vibrating the ground,
Crashing right to their soul.

And for an hour they are
Young again
With plans to take on the world.

Like all of us.

Do they still have those dreams?
Do they still have those ideals?
Do they still have the reckless abandon
That stereotyped them?

Or
Are they part of the mainstream
In their everyday life?
Regretting choices not made.

Graying,
Long-Haired hippies
Trying to recapture
Their Youth.

Weekend Morning

2011-08-20T07:14:00.000-07:00

It's been a week of
   alarms going off
   being on time
   get to the next meeting
   finding packed away items
   teacher chatter
Then
   bells
   schedules
   teenage laughter and
   high fives
Always moving on to
   the next thing
Always noise.
Always in a hurry.

But then comes
   Saturday.
Puppy kisses and
Bird songs
Wake me slowly to the day.
The coffee perks and
I know
There is plenty of time for a leisurely cup
With a piece of fresh peach pie.

Neighbors wave as they head to their boats.

And the only noises I hear are
The sound of
The waves
Gently lapping at the sand
And the call of a solitary gull.
Only the swallows don't understand
The need for
Peaceful weekend mornings.

Flying Books

2011-08-19T08:31:00.000-07:00

High school kids always say they hate to read--especially the boys. They proudly proclaim that they never read. Haven't read a book since 6th grade. They just watch the movie and fake it. Lots and lots of excuses. I, of course, find it amazing that they have never read a book that they liked. Too many teacher choices, I guess.

My second hour speech class is filled with those kids. I told them they had never read a book they liked because I was never their reading teacher. I said if they would be honest about it, I could find them books that would interest them.

The challenge was on.

"Find me one, Mrs. Day!"

"Me next!"

Me, Me, Me....

I started pulling down boxes and throwing out books. Literally. (It's kind of fun to amaze them when the book actually lands on their desk.).

Five boys and a girl took books with them as they left today. Alliterate, nonreaders. Kids who may actually try to read a book because I found books that interested them.

I'll have to check back in with them next week.

Hope it works!

Let It Be Me

2011-08-18T04:32:00.000-07:00

I saw her name on my class list. It was one of "those" names. All teachers knew the family and the background. I remembered her mom in seventh grade.

I watched her in the halls during freshman open house as she wandered without friends from room to room, accompanied only by her step-father, himself from one of "those" families. Fearful, she figured out where she needed to go each hour. What a contrast to most of the other kids who laughed and greeted friends as they danced from room to room.

I greeted the two of them as they stepped into my room. A dirty face, unkept hair, clothes that had seen their better days, it was hard to imagine she was a freshman girl. The only words she spoke were, "I'm scared to come here."

My heart broke. Tears filled my eyes.

Let it be me. Let me be the teacher that makes school a safe place for her. Let me be the teacher she connects with. Let me be the teacher that makes a difference in her life.

Let it be me.

Exhaustion

2011-08-17T05:09:00.000-07:00

Exhaustion.
The Good Kind.
The kind of exhaustion
That lets you know
Your brain hasn't turned to
MUSH
Over
The long, hot summer.

Exhaustion.
The Good Kind.