Good Afternoon, Baltimore

The Baltimore Orioles played their first home game of the season today. There were many years that I made the journey from my residence in the DC area for the opening day game. Even though I have lived in the DC area for almost 40 years, I'm always a Baltimore girl at heart.

I drove right past Camden Yards this afternoon after taking my mom to a doctor's appointment. Even if I couldn't make it to the game, it was nice to be in the area. Everywhere I turned Oriole pride was on full display. The nursing staff all had their orange on today, as did my sister and niece when they headed to their respective schools for a day of teaching.

I listened to the game on the radio as I drove back to DC this afternoon. I turned it on when I got home as well, but I made sure to put on my new Orioles shirt, too.

Today's score? Orioles- 8, Red Sox- 5

Memories

 

Finding my way to my own classroom in Arlington wasn’t the easiest thing in the world.  For some reason, I was good enough to student-teach in Arlington.  I was good enough to work as a long-term substitute in Arlington.  Arlington Public Schools even thought I was good enough to teach summer school.  But over and over, I wasn’t good enough to get the classroom job I wanted.

 

Finally, in August of 1993, someone said yes.

 

Yes, came over the phone after I nervously called from the lobby of a hotel in Scranton, PA.  A week before, my best friend’s father had died.  In that week, I had sat by the side of a grieving friend and, apparently, finally said the right thing in an interview.  Talk about some highs and lows.

Thirty-two years later, I’m thankful for my persistence.

 

I’m thankful that my introverted self kept trying to land that job all while facing numerous speed bumps along the way.

 

“The squeaky wheel gets the grease, Mary.”

 

That’s what my extroverted friend, Betsy, told me.   So, squeak I did.  I stopped waiting for personnel to call me with jobs to interview for.  I broke the stated rules and started calling schools myself.

 

Whaddya know- it worked.  After being told over and over that I didn’t have enough experience teaching a diverse population, I landed a job teaching 27 challenging 5th graders in a very undiverse elementary school. (Along with their distrust of a first-year teacher and involved parents.)

I made it through year one with a few bumps, tears, and puke stains on my shoes, but I survived.  And I grew as a teacher.  I learned quickly that the classroom I was managing was in no way like the classroom I had sat in as a student.  All those youthful pretend games of school didn’t prepare me for the real thing.  My degree only prepared me for the curriculum.  I'd have to figure out how to manage students, parents, and colleagues on my own.

 

Fortunately, I wasn’t completely on my own.  I was gifted with the best co-teacher and educational mentor one could ask for.  Catherine Reising-Jones listened to my ideas, worked with me through my frustrations, and taught me more about working with 5th graders than I’d ever learn in a classroom.  We weren’t quite equals when we started out together- her years of experience in the classroom and mentoring spirit were the lift I needed during year one.  Catherine taught me to appreciate a great working relationship among colleagues.  Kids come and go, but the work the adults of the school do together is what creates a safe learning environment.

 

Oh, and the kids.  Yeah, I’ve learned a helluva lot from them as well.

I’ve learned...

 

1. If a kid says he’s going to throw up, believe him and get out of the way, quickly.

2. Raising my volume does not lower the volume of the class.

3. Boys are more likely to cry in school than girls.

4. The best-planned lessons don’t always work out like they should- abandon them as needed. (Quickly!)

5. Kids who do ridiculous things and then tell you they don’t know why they did it aren’t kidding.  They really don’t know.

6. Kids and parents say unkind things.  Try your best not to take it personally.  (Sometimes that’s hard.)

...and so much more.

All in all, the last thirty-two years have been fun.  Some days are more fun than others, but fortunately, when I look back, the first memories that come to my mind involve smiles, laughter, and fun.

It’s hard to ask for more out of something called work.

 

 

Damn This Traffic Jam

I ran out for a quick errand earlier this afternoon. Everywhere I turned, I ran into traffic, much more traffic than I'm used to on a Saturday.

Heading home, I considered taking a local commuter highway to speed up the return trip. I bailed when I saw what looked like a parking lot of cars on 66.

I meandered through the back streets of Arlington, which I know so well, and was treated to the pinks, reds, and yellows of spring in full bloom.

Eventually, I merged onto 395 South toward the Shirlington exit that takes me home. Cars in the northbound lane into DC were practically stopped, just like they were on 66 East before.  

It's such a beautiful day, where in the heck is everyone going, I thought.      

And then I remembered. 

The Cherry Blossoms are in peak bloom. 

I can't even imagine where all the cars that seem to be heading into DC will park. However, I'm sure it will be a fantastic sight for those who have the patience and the luck of finding a place to park.

Ghost in the Machine

It was about six months after I had a new ceiling fan installed that the problems began. 

I woke up on a Saturday morning earlier than needed because the light was on over my bed. I fumbled around for the remote and turned it off, all while wondering how it got turned on.

My sister stayed with me that weekend, so when I went downstairs, I asked, "Did you turn on my light to wake me up?"    

I didn't think that was the case, and it wasn't.

Months went by, and I often switched off a fan or light that I had never turned on.

Eventually, I realized someone else in my condo complex must have the same fan with a remote set on the same radio frequency (RF) setting.

I asked my neighbors, "Did you have a new fan installed recently?"

Everyone said no.

Then, one Friday evening, I was out front talking with my new neighbor, Beth. She was telling me all about the strange behavior of the overhead fan in her bedroom.

"It just turns on," she said, "I don't understand it."

I smiled, "I know exactly what the problem is!"

I schooled her on the subject of radio frequencies and factory settings. The fix would be easy- just change the RF setting on the fan and the remote.

Actually, that part isn't that easy. It involves dropping the fan, pulling out the RF box, and making the adjustment. I mean it's easy for an electrician, not as easy for me.

Today, I had an electrician install a new AC unit. Brian is a friendly guy, who shows up when he says he will and cleans up any mess he makes.

He's so friendly that he dropped the fan and changed the RF for free.

Did you know there's actually a National Brian Day?

Officially, it's on March 6, but it seems like today is a great day to celebrate too.

Some Sort of Itis

The medical assistant led me into exam room 1 and said, "I'm just going to get some information from you before the doctor comes in."

I knew the drill. I've been a frequent flyer at the orthopedic office for many years. 

"So, it's your wrist? What do you think it is?"

I let out a little laugh, "Well, I'm going to say it's some kind of 'itis'- tendonitis or arthritis."

My favorite doctor came in a little later and moved my hand and wrist in all kinds of directions. He then sent me off to the x-ray room to get "some film."

The results came back quickly and the doctor returned to go over the X-rays with me.

"Yup, it looks like Arthur got you. As you predicted, it's arthritis."

Apparently, arthritis runs in my family because it seems like ever since I turned 50 that diagnosis comes up often.

Doctor M. prescribed some anti-inflammatories, injected some cortisone in the joint to calm it down, and sent me on my way.

"As always, thank you," I smiled,  "Hopefully, you won't see me again too soon."

Waiting

March carries on, and all I can think is, How long until Spring Break?

I remember looking at the calendar in the fall. My eyes glazed over when I saw that Spring Break wouldn't start until Saturday, April 12. Certainly, this has to be one of the latest dates for Spring Break in my 32 years of teaching.

One thing I've learned is how crazy the next few weeks will be. It's unclear if my students even know when our break will begin. Just today, I remarked that we have a 4-day week next week. Hands shot up, and a chorus of "Wait, what?" followed.

Yes, if they are surprised to find out that Monday is a holiday for Eid, imagine how surprised they'll be a mere 9 school days later when they find out it is finally time for Spring Break.

The Sound of Silence

One thing I love about my house is the quietness. Even now, as I sit here I can close my eyes and pinpoint each sound I hear.

I hear Alice behind me, scratching on the scratching post, and then the soft touch of her paws as she jumps down and strolls up the stairs to see what's happening out front. Edgar is by my side, sitting meatloaf style on the arm of the sofa. We disagree on this, but he prefers to use the arm for his scratching post. I hear the weight of his body resettling into position as he turns around on the couch.

By turning around, he gets a better look out the window so he can investigate the other thing we all hear- so many different kinds of birds chirping outside. A ruffle of activity in the hedge outside the back window has all heads turning. Is it the wind or a sparrow?

Listening is a wonderful meditative activity. It allows me to leave the noise and chaos of middle school behind and focus on the smaller, quieter world in my house and backyard.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

I went to Nationals Stadium this afternoon to catch the final Spring Training game of the season. The local team was taking on my home team, the Baltimore Orioles, for the event.

Of course, I'd been watching the forecast since last Friday. Yes, rain was on the radar. Even so, I felt optimistic.

As we got out of the car, Tracey asked, "Did you bring a raincoat?"

"No," I smiled, "I'm hopeful."

Hopefulness did not win today. Neither did either team that came to play.

The rain continued, and eventually, the weather delay turned into a cancellation.

Although the afternoon may not have gone as planned, I got to hang out with a friend, eat a ballpark hotdog, and get excited about the upcoming baseball season.

Let's go, O's!

Cookie Break

The Girl Scout cookies were just the distraction my friend and I needed today. Julie and I were just about at the top of the first of three hills we'd be walking up as we headed home from our Sunday afternoon walk down to the Del Ray section of Alexandria. 

The young blonde girl was actually a Brownie. When asked, she proudly told us she was 5 and in kindergarten. She also told us all about her nice teacher, Ms. Palmer. Apparently, our new friend goes to a bilingual school, and that nice Ms. Palmer tells her students what words mean in English "even though the principal says she shouldn't."

Our little sales girl allowed her mom to handle the transaction, but I'd credit the sale to her adorable smile. 

Thanks to her, the Girl Scouts of America sold another 3 boxes today. 

She Has Confidence

"I told you, it's because I know basketball!"

That was my mother's reply when my sister wondered out loud how it could be that my 89-year-old mother usually wins our family bracket game.

According to family lore, my mom was quite the high school athlete. She played softball and basketball and apparently performed well in both sports. 

She's been picking winners for the men's and women's bracket for several years. Yes, she watches some college games on weekends, but there's no way she watches enough to do as well as she does.

 "I told you, it's because I know basketball!"

My mom is not an unhappy person, but she can be pessimistic. My sister and I often refer to her as Eeyore. She is not exuberant. Her humor is dry. Honestly, I'm pretty much the same way. Even so, there is one place I remember her smiling, and smiling big. 

Years ago, I took her to one of the NCAA Women's tournament games in College Park, MD. We were there to see the Lady Terps play the Tigers of Princeton. We got there plenty early so we could settle into our seats for all the pregame festivities. I took a picture of Mom to send to my sister, Jeen. 

Jeen's reply was quick. Oh my god, she's smiling! Women's basketball makes her smile.

When I woke up this morning, I was tied with my mom and brother for 1st place in the family bracket pool. 

I enjoyed my moment, but with St. John's loss to Arkansas, I dropped to 2nd place. 

My mom? Yeah, she's in 1st place because she knows basketball.

Doctor My Throat

I took a mental note of March 13 last week.  It was on March 13, 2020, that I left my classroom on what was supposed to be a two-week break.

Of course, that didn't quite happen. Besides cleaning up and collecting supplies, I didn't step back into my classroom for almost a year.

Last week, I took time to recognize how nice it is to know that Covid is mostly in the rearview mirror. Or so I thought.

Yesterday afternoon, I noted my 6th-grade teammate, Alex, was wearing a mask. At first, I thought she was just taking precautions because she was heading to Colorado this weekend for a short ski vacation with her family. 

"What's with the mask?" I asked.

"Kaiser just called. I've got f****** Covid!"

She felt absolutely fine. Her home test from the day before was negative, but her PCR test was positive.

Suddenly, my stuffy nose felt stuffier, and my scratchy throat felt scratchier.

I was supposed to meet with my writing group that night. What should I do?

In an instant, it was Covid times again, and we were all trying to figure out how best to keep from getting it.

In the end, my home test was negative. Even so, the writing group decided it was best to wait a week before we got together.

I looked up the pollen count. Tree pollen, my archenemy, was through the roof.  I quickly closed every window in my house. They'll stay that way until June or July.

This morning I felt so much better.

Smells Like Preteen Spirit

If you haven’t spent much time in middle school it could be difficult to understand the ridiculous behaviors of middle school students. If you haven’t taught school, it could be nearly impossible to understand them.

Sixth graders enter each fall as young elementary school kids. They are confused about their schedule, block days, using Canvas, and how to open a combination locker. Usually, by February they figure it out.

Then comes March. At this point of the year, they start to embrace their middle school selves. That could be attributed to the hormones that are kicking into high gear in their bodies. According to the Cleveland Clinic, these hormonal changes often cause moody behavior, and emotional outbursts. I’ve been teaching 6th graders for twenty-two years, and I’ve seen all kinds of moody behavior and emotional outbursts.

Just this morning one of my TA students came in late (as usual). When I looked up to take her pass I noticed she was crying. She was upset because she was assigned detention for being late. She didn’t know that coming in late was a problem, which may explain why she’s been late 36 times this year.

During English class today I was reading a poem when I became distracted by some sort of noise coming from the back of the room. It didn’t take long to realize that it was coming from one of the usual suspects. I asked him to leave the room so the rest of us could get on with the business of English class.

The student and I discussed what happened at lunch. He told me he was reading the poem and humming along.

“Don’t you think that was a little inappropriate?” I asked.

“No, I was reading the poem.”

“But was anyone else reading it out loud? Was anyone else humming?”

“No, but…” he started.

I stopped him, “Your behavior was completely inappropriate. You were asked to listen, not participate in the reading.”

He stood his ground, “ I didn’t do anything wrong! I was just reading the poem.”

“And humming,” I added.

Again, he started, “but…”

I picked up the paper from English that he never completed.

“Follow me, you’ll be in this room during lunch. I will come and excuse you when lunch is over.”

Sometimes, there’s no point in wasting time going back and forth.

That is one of many things I’ve learned in my 23 years in middle school.

Massage Chat

I spent an hour of my afternoon on the massage table. My masseuse, Beth, and I chattered away as she applied all the right pressure to my tight shoulders, hips, and hamstrings.

"Wow, that spot is really tight," I remarked as she dug into my right glute.

"That's exactly what I was going to say," she laughed.

We spent most of the time talking about New Orleans. She goes there often, and I'll head down for French Quarter Fest in April.

"The New Orleans School of Cooking is located right near Jackson Square. Don't miss it! They have, by far, the best pralines to be found in New Orleans. And be sure to look for a second line to participate in. Wait, I have a guy I can contact to see what will be happening when you're down there."

Beth is more excited about my trip than I am. And I'm pretty darn excited!

An hour later I stumbled into the sunlight feeling relaxed and ready to hit the streets of the French Quarter.

Walking In Sunshine

My pale legs made their spring debut this afternoon. I'm sure they were a little embarrassed by the decision. In fact, I heard one whisper to the other, "Geez, you'd think she would get the razor out and touch us up a bit before parading us around the block!"

I'm sorry, ladies. Sometimes, spontaneity rules. I was only meeting up with my trainer, who couldn't care less. I even yelled a warning across the parking lot as he walked up to meet me, "My pasty legs are out today!"

"Mine are too!" he replied with a laugh.

I picked up the pace as I walked a quick lap around the track. I went even faster when I passed the field teaming with young soccer moms and their strollers.

I reassured my legs, "Yes, we used to be as toned as those muscles. Don't worry, if we keep working hard we can get back there."

Tomorrow morning, I'll slide the razor across my skin and clean things up. Then, I'll add generous amounts of lotion to moisten the dry skin that's been hiding beneath jeans, leggings, and sweatpants all winter.

I may even add a little tanning spray, but one other thing I definitely do is keep on walking.

A Change Would Do You Good

So, I'm retiring in a few months. Almost every day someone asks me if I'm "counting down the days."

It's hard to explain that even though I'm ridiculously excited about never having to grade another 6th-grade writing assignment, the feelings I have about retirement aren't 100% excitement.

I have had some sort of job since I was 14 and cleaned my dad's office every weekend. I have done everything from work in a gas station self-service booth to cutting roses at a wholesale greenhouse. I have never been fired, although I've come close. I just couldn't figure out what the exact amount of open a rose needed to be when cut. Fortunately, I figured it out before getting cut myself.

With a teacher's schedule, it's been 26 years since I've taught summer school, so I guess you could say I'm unemployed each summer. I view it more as a retreat to rest and recharge before the next school year.

This summer will no doubt feel the same...until the end of August. I'll start noticing the signs: school supplies on sale, yellow school buses practicing their roots, and teacher friends counting down the end of summer.

Yes, I'll be excited that I won't be getting thrown into the chaos that is the beginning of a school year. I also feel a bit untethered, unsure of what's next. Twenty-three years ago, I made the move from elementary school teacher to middle school teacher. Nothing much has changed since. 

I'll be nervous but that's okay. Eventually, I'll find my way just like I always have.

Bluebird

"Is that a bluebird on that branch?"  I asked Jeen.

She squinted a little and responded, "I think it is!"

It didn't take long to see another on a branch nearby.

My sister and I were sitting in her car in the church parking lot. It was the same church where she got married, where her kids were baptised and made their first communion years later, and it's also the same church where my father is buried.

We drove by the cemetery a few times yesterday. Each time we did we shouted out a quick, "Hey Dad!"

I don't see many bluebirds in my backyard. I suppose they are around, but I just haven't seen them. Honestly, the only place I've ever seen bluebirds was in my parents' backyard.

I took yesterday's sighting as a sign from my dad, one of many I've noted recently, and one that brought a smile to my face.

Reunited

The Covid walking gang met up today. In 2019, we all worked at the same school, so many asynchronous Mondays were spent walking around the National Mall. There were four adults and two dogs. Later a third dog joined us as well as a baby girl.

Washington, DC, is a tourist town. Each spring, students and families descend on the nation's capital to check out the sights. In March of 2019, everything changed. It was easy for all of us to meet in front of the Museum of Natural History. Parking? That was plentiful. 

Sure there were people around, but not enough to get in our way as we strolled to the Capitol, the Lincoln Memorial, and back. We walked as spring arrived in DC. There were daffodils, tulips, redbuds, and of course Cherry Blossoms. It was wonderful to walk around an empty city, filled only with local residents in awe of the ease of getting around.

Once school got back into full swing, it was tougher to fit in those walks, and parking was harder to come by.

This morning's walk around the Tidal Basin was the first one since the beginning of this school year. The group has changed a bit. Baby daughter is now toddler daughter. Sadly, Matt's two dogs have passed on. Even so, it was all smiles and hellos when I met up with Tracey, Heidi, Matt, Viola, and Lucy, the best dog ever,  in East Potomac Park.

Only two of us work in the same building now, so I enjoyed catching up with those I don't see as often. I can't say that Viola was as excited, but Lucy was definitely happy to see everyone. She also played the part of tourist, interacting with many of the statues at the FDR memorial.

Best Friends

If you had asked me who my best friend was at the age of 4, I would have undoubtedly replied, "Mrs. Cowger."

She was my next door neighbor when we lived in Silver Spring, Maryland.

Our house sat on busy Colesville Rd., not in a neighborhood that might have been filled with friends like the ones I had left when we moved from Baltimore.

My older brothers had each other. My sister was just a baby, so I spent time alone and with Mrs. Cowger.

I don't remember much about what we did, only that her son taught me how to color without shading outside of the lines.

I haven't thought about her in years, until I watched as my 2-year-old neighbor walked out her front door, took a left and knocked on her neighbor, Heidi's, door.

I asked Heidi about it one night over burgers at a local tavern. 

"Oh, yeah," she laughed, "she comes over all the time. She knows where her toys are and makes herself right at home."

Eleanor has all of us in our 8-townhouse section enamored with her. She greets us all whenever she's outside. Even so, it seems like Heidi is her very best friend for now.

Even though she has a sibling arriving soon, I don't think she'll ever forget Heidi. Just like I haven't forgotten Mrs. Cowger.

Waking Up Is Hard To Do

I was dealing pretty well with the darkness of my morning commute, or so I thought. Just this morning, I bragged to my teammate that I wasn't affected by the dark mornings that returned this week.

This afternoon I felt differently. 

It may have been morning number 4 for getting up in what can only be described as peak darkness. It could have been that I was spending so much time convincing myself I was fine.

It could be that with March comes the crazy time in middle school. The kids who've been squirrelly all year are even squirrellier. And then, some of the kids who've been just fine take on a new personality.

Many factors are zapping my energy. 

It's all part of the cycle of the school year. Plodding along through the early morning darkness only means that the end of the school year is in sight. 

Even so, I look forward to the sunrise on March 31. It will occur at 6:53.

Bloody Hell

I got a bloody nose this afternoon. That's not so significant for many, but it was for me. In my 63 years on earth, I've never had one.

One minute, I was heading over to a celebratory happy hour, and the next, I was searching my car for any sort of clean napkin I could find to shove up my nose to stop the bleeding.

By the time I got home a few minutes later, I had used every available napkin in the car console- clean and sort of clean.

I knew tilting the head back was no longer the preferred treatment method, so  I did a quick internet search while holding a tissue in my nose to catch the continual stream of blood.

Pinch the nose for 10 minutes. Don't stop pinching to see what's going on.

I spent the next 10 minutes scrolling through Instagram and Facebook, and just as the time usually does when on social media, the 10 minutes was up in a blink of an eye...or should I say the stoppage of a stream of blood in the nose?

Hospital Hum

There is a quiet hum in the hospital this morning. I watch as my mother rests quietly after her procedure. Every once in a while she opens her eyes, remembers that I'm here and starts a conversation.

"Did Lily go with you to the zoo?' she asks.

I reply with as few words as possible, hoping that she'll remember she's trying to rest, not entertain me.

"I want to ask the doctor if I can get a milkshake on the way home," she states.

"Okay," I reply, "I'll help you remember that."

Her eyes close once more. I curl up on the small, blue loveseat and close mine as well.

The Waiting

One of my secret superpowers is the ability to sit and do nothing. This superpower was developed through years and years of sitting in mass with my parents each weekend. It was further strengthened during all those special masses we attended during my years at St. Joseph's Elementary in Texas, Maryland.

More growth occurred after my dad had his first heart attack in his late 30s. Such training made it much easier to sit in a hospital waiting room for 8 hours while he had his second open heart surgery twenty years later.

Over the years I've spent countless hours in hospital waiting rooms in support of others. There were knee surgeries, hip surgeries, cancer surgeries and so much more. Technology has made things even easier. Just last month I sat with my mom while she waited to be admitted to a nearby hospital. She was sleeping and I watched a movie on Netflix, graded papers, and texted my siblings with the latest updates.

My 89-year-old mom is back in the hospital, nothing dire, just some stuff to take care of, and I will sit with her again. If she's feeling up to it, we can play a few rounds of rummy. If not, I never did finish that movie I started last month.

Can I Get My Hour Back, Please?

I'm always fooled on this first day of Daylight Saving Time. This year was no exception.

Jeen and I met up with her daughter (my niece) in the Bloomingdale section of DC for a quick bite to eat before my sister headed back home. She wanted to leave DC by 2:00 PM, which was great for me since I had school and home tasks to catch up.

As soon as we said our goodbyes, I got right on my laptop to finalize my plans for tomorrow and work on an IB Rubric for an upcoming summative assessment. In the back of my head I was toying with the idea of hitting the grocery store. Finally I remembered I have a doctor's appointment at 2:00pm tomorrow, meaning I'll leave work early and have some time to hit the grocery store after.

Feeling some space in my afternoon, I downshifted my work pace into low gear, plugging along while distracting myself on social media and the NY Times word games.

I went into the kitchen to refill my water bottle, noting the stove clock. It read 2:34. 

Wait. What?

I'd been working for at least an hour. Jeen left at about 2:15. How could it be...? Ah ha! These days every other clock in my life adjusts itself one hour ahead automatically. Well, every other clock except the ones on my stove and microwave.

It was 3:34. I immediately thought of all the things I needed to accomplish: laundry, dinner, lunch for tomorrow.

I regretted all that wasted time on the internet. Then I put my head down and got to work, missing that hour the entire time.

熊猫日

A photo memory popped up on my phone the other day. The picture of the gray wolf was taken at the National Zoo nine years ago. My sister and I had gone to the zoo that day to see the newest baby panda, Bei Bei.

This morning, we were back again, checking in on the newest residents of the panda exhibit, Bao Li and Qing Bao. These pandas did not disappoint. There was some rolling around in the grass, lots of bamboo eating, and lots of oohs and aahs from the crowd of panda-enthusiasts.

We also stopped in at the Ape House to visit our very distant cousins. Baby Zahra entertained the crowd as she climbed, scurried, and swung through the enclosure. We exited the Ape House in time to see the orangutans travel across the raised O-Line that is suspended 50 feet above the crowds.

By around 11:30 the crowds were thickening and our stomachs were growling, so we walked up Connecticut Avenue for a mediocre lunch at an Irish Pub and a delicious afternoon treat at a French cafe across the street.

DC really shines in the spring. Today was no exception. 

Hello Darkness My Old Enemy

This morning was the last sunrise I'll see on my drive into work for some time. How lovely of mother nature to put on such a colorful show this morning. I left my house at about 6:40 am and took in the beauty of the early morning light. Once I got on the highway I smiled as I looked at a distant apartment building shimmering in the bright sunshine. Wispy pink clouds spread across the sky wiping away any hint of nighttime.

I made sure to take it all in. 

When I leave my house on Monday morning, it will be dark. There will be no hint of sunrise for about an hour. My students will be groggier than usual, and arrive even later than usual--if at all. It will be up to me to bring all the energy into the classroom.

I plan on resting up this weekend.

Wondering Where the Lambs Are

March is here and she is not messing around. The saying goes "March comes in like a lion, out like a lamb."

Apparently, lions are full of self-confidence. An internet search tells me they are happy to take charge if no one else will, but they can also have problems when others tire of their dominance.

March decided to take charge yesterday. 

On Saturday, March 1, we had a lovely day. The high temperature went up to 68. I sat on my back patio with a book and a smile- happy for such gorgeous weather. Maybe March won't be so bad, I thought.

How silly of me.

By Tuesday I was having a full-blown allergy attack. The tree pollen was back and so was my sinus headache.

Yesterday? That was crazy. The afternoon was full of rain, wind, and more rain.

The wind is still here today, and the cold weather also returned. 

So far, March is dominating like the lion that she is. I'm just wondering at what point the lamb may be let out of the pen.

Change for the Better

Thanks to a last minute change in my afternoon plans, I had 6 hours of unscheduled time all to myself. I had taken leave this afternoon so I could drive 90 miles north, take my mother to a doctor's appointment, and then drive back home.

Earlier today, my sister texted to let me know she could take my mom to the appointment and suddenly I had nowhere I had to be. I suppose I could have canceled the leave I took but a rainy afternoon lounging on my comfy couch seemed like such a better idea.

So, lounge I did. The soft patter of the rain was all I needed to drift off into an out of the ordinary afternoon nap.

It was a blissful afternoon.

What's Going On?

One of the other 6th grade English teachers was given a student teacher this quarter, and since it's almost the end of her placement, Hermione is taking some time to observe other classrooms. Today she dropped in on one of my smaller, but tougher classes. I have two students in particular that struggle with English, partly because of the inflexible nature of their disability, and partly because well...writing is hard. I have an assistant during this class period, so whenever we are working on a long writing project (like today) she often takes both students to another room to work. That way they can vocalize and take breaks as much as they need without disturbing the other writers in the room.

Student #1 came in today and proclaimed her writing was done. She went on to tell me she had done everything else I could possibly want her to do. 

Student #2 complained about the torture of English class (as always), wrote about 50 words and proclaimed he needed a break.

The assistant and I exchanged glances. We then talked about what each student should work on and she took them upstairs.

I sat down with Hermione at the back table. "English is tough for them, so of course they don't like the class that much," I explained.

She looked a little confused, but we went on discussing other English classroom related items. I didn't realize how confused she was until I walked into my English CLT meeting later in the afternoon.

"Hermione said there were a lot of teachers coming in and out of your room," stated Kerry, her mentor teacher.

I looked at her with a puzzled expression, "Oh, you mean the teachers that are always coming in to get things off the printer?"

"No, she said there were two kids that don't like English and somebody came in and took them away."

I laughed, "I guess it did look like that."

When Hermione joined the meeting later, I clarified, "So, those two kids are in the ______ program. The lady who came in works with them, and sometimes it's better for them to write in a room where they can be as loud as they want. That's where she took them."

"That makes more sense," she replied.

I laughed. This year my classes are pretty chaotic. I guess it's obvious to a visitor.

Hey Cortex...Wake Up!

It’s quite a coincidence that today’s TA lesson reviewed how the amygdala runs the feeling parts of your brain. The video that went with the lesson explained that the immediacy of the amygdala means the shaking and stomach churning you feel when angry or nervous is because the cortex hasn’t woken up enough to help manage your emotions.

As I sat down at my computer this afternoon, my amygdala was undoubtedly trying to awaken my cortex to an emotional situation. However, it didn’t act quickly enough because as soon as I opened my email account, my stomach started turning. It churned the same way when I first tried to figure out long division. I was nervous- just like I was back then.

Today was the day I would email my principal and the district to let them know that I am retiring effective July 1. The churning in my stomach wasn’t all nerves. It’s more a combination of excitement, disbelief, pride, and anxiety. 

I typed up my short email, and let it sit there for a while. A few minutes later, team member Starr came in to grab something off the printer in my classroom.

“Can I read you my letter to Keisha?” I asked. Starr was a wise choice, she sent her retirement letter a month ago.

“Wow, that’s much better than mine,” she smiled, “I only wrote about three sentences.”

“Alright then,” I replied, “I’m hitting send.” Off my words went- into the internet. I threw my arms up and smiled. Once I hit send, the only emotion I felt was happiness. I guess my cortex woke up.

Restoring Order

About three weeks ago, I started sleeping in my guest room. My back was a little achy, and I thought sleeping on a firmer mattress was best. 

I came to enjoy the simplicity of the guest room. It's a smaller room, so there isn't room for much more than an end table, bookcase, and a small desk that I  added to the room to serve as a luggage rack. The starkness of the room is quite different from my own room, which has become cluttered with extra furniture over the years. In the three weeks I've been soundly sleeping in the guest room, my room has also become a combination big dressing room, clothes hamper, and post laundry staging area.

Simply put...my room became an absolute mess. It was easy to ignore. Closing the door meant the piles of clothes were out of sight and out of mind. And since I live alone, there was no one else around to give me a hard time about the mess I created. (A perk of single living) I slept in blissful denial of the havoc I had created a few feet away. 

This morning it was time to tackle that mess. Four hours, and five loads of laundry later, order has been restored to both bedrooms in my house.  I have a house guest arriving on Tuesday, but who knows where I'll be sleeping after she leaves on Thursday.

100 Days of Excitement and Surprises

Introducing the 100-Day Writing Challenge to my 6th graders is always one of my favorite days of the school year. However, the day also brings a sliver of hesitation, simply because it's a toss-up whether the classroom response will be positive or not-so-positive. 

It's been a tough year in 6th grade. There are a handful of students that I have had a difficult time engaging. On some days, those students can throw off an entire lesson. I understand it comes with the job of teaching. Each school year is different. Getting all students onboard for growth and learning happens at different points of the year. The years that it takes until March or April (like this year) are exhausting for me. It's not easy being all the energy in the room day after day.

On Wednesday, when I reviewed the parameters of the challenge, I was not faced with the pessimism I expected. Obviously, there was some hesitation, but when it came down to writing that day, 98% of the students found something to write about.

By the end of the lesson I was excited, not hesitant. I was excited to find out who would take on the monthly challenge and who would make it all the way to June 5 and write every day for 100 days. One thing I know for sure is on day one it could be anyone.