Another Meeting

There was a meeting after school to discuss a likely change in grading policies in the county. The purpose was to discuss the possibilities and weigh in as a school regarding what we think is best. All secondary schools in the county will report and the powers that be will make recommendations to the school board based on the consensus.

It took us 75 minutes to decide that a grading scale of 4, 3, 2, 1 and 0 is better than the traditional A through E ten-point scale. We also decided it's best for teachers to round up when figuring out a final grade.

There was a great deal of conversation, and for the most part it was interesting to listen to everyone's point of view. However, I wonder if we would have arrived at the same decision if we took a vote before discussing the pros and cons of each choice.

Rest as Needed

I've been fighting a cold since late last week. The scratch in my throat has been off and on for about a month now, but I didn't really start feeling the drain of a cold until Thursday or Friday. A weekend packed full of activities didn't leave much time for recovery...until this afternoon.

I met friends for a birthday brunch this morning and made a quick stop at Tyson's Corner Mall. I returned home about 1:30, threw on a pair of sweatpants, grabbed a blanket and hit the couch. I stayed there most of the day.

I'm hoping an afternoon of rest and an early bedtime will be enough rejuvenation to get me through Monday.

An Easy Trip

It's always nice when field trips go better than expected. We took the students to the Museum of the American Indian today prepared for a bit of chaos. The information we received from the museum regarding our tour was a little sketchy, so we weren't sure what to expect.

Worry number one was the traffic. Our school is less than 8 miles from the museum, but with rush hour traffic it was tough to guess how long it would take to get there. Fortunately, the rush hour gods were with us, and we arrived 10 minutes ahead of our scheduled tour time.

Then there was the tour. When asked what the guide would cover we were told there was no way to tell...every tour is different. The mystery was slightly disconcerting, but we went in ready to roll with it.

The tour guides were fabulous. They were informative and engaging. The students not only listened, they also answered and asked questions.

Concern number three was whether or not we would be able to get back to school in time to eat a quick lunch before going to afternoon elective classes. Again, no problem. The bus was ready and waiting for us when we walked out of the museum, we were back in the classroom 15 minutes later with plenty of time to enjoy lunch.

One field trip...no problems...a nice way to end the week.

Not the Boss, Or Is She?

I attended my monthly PLC group this afternoon. The meeting is held at another middle school in the county and is facilitated by another 6th grade reading teacher. The PLC is supposed to be a place for fellow teachers of grade 6 reading to share what they're doing in their classroom. I have a sneaky suspicion that in time it will become a place to make sure we're all doing the same thing...in the name of accountability. Of course, that's a whole other thing, not the thing I want to write about today.

This was our second meeting, and also the second time that the facilitator reminded us that she was not the boss of the room. She was merely there to send in attendance and give us a place to meet. She assured us that she wasn't in charge. The assurances came from her seat behind her desk. From my perspective in the desk usually occupied by a student, it seemed like she most definitely was the boss of the room.

Confession

A confession:
I read the first Harry Potter book but never bothered with the rest. On a related note, I've only seen the first two movies in the series and doubt I'll see any others.

I'm sure this makes me some sort of weirdo, but I'm okay with that. I just don't "do" serial reading. That's not to say I don't enjoy reading books by the same author. I've read several books by John Steinbeck and Barbara Kingsolver. I love Roald Dahl and Kate DiCamillo. I spent two weeks at the beach one summer and finished five books by John Grisham--although after the fifth one I decided I didn't need to read anymore Grisham books.

No offense to J. K. Rowling--it's just that I found out all I cared to know about Harry and Co. in the first book.

New Shoes

I traded in my running shoes for a newer model on Tuesday night. The decision came after a run that had me focusing more on every twinge and ache I felt than the scenery that I was passing through. Years ago a friend told me that she buys a new pair of running shoes whenever she starts feeling pains that she hasn't felt before. I thought of that conversation as I ran earlier this week wondering what was going on with my shins.

I put in a mile and a half and headed home for my wallet and car keys.

New shoes always feel great, but new running shoes feel better than great. As soon as I slid my right foot into my new pair of Mizunos I felt comfort. The mesh outside hugged my foot like an old friend. A walk around the store introduced me to a bounce in the sole that I hadn't felt in quite awhile. I exhaled a sigh of relief.

My old shoes went in the box; I paid and glided out the door with a smile on my face.

Sneaky Turnips

I've never trusted turnips. They always had a sneaky way of ending up in my mashed potatoes when I was a kid. Obviously, they didn't get there by themselves...Mom did it. She likes turnips. Who else but a turnip-lover would dare mess with a perfect portion of mashed potatoes?

I watched carefully as my sister made the mashed potatoes last night. She added butter, milk and sour cream. There wasn't a turnip in sight.

My mother made turnips this afternoon-- she knew better than to mess with the already-perfect mashed spuds. The turnips sat in their own little bowl at the end of the buffet table. A few people ate them and enjoyed them. I stayed way, far away.

My brother-in-law's brother stopped by as we finished up our dinner and was offered a turnip. (By my mother, of course.)

"I don't like 'em." he said. "I never liked it when they ended up in the mashed potatoes."

Exactly.