This would be funnier if it weren't so ridiculous

Need another punctuation mark? I don't. I like my sarcasm straight up, but apparently some folks do need a punctuation mark  and will pay for the privilege of using it. I had to check twice to be sure this wasn't from The Onion.

Independent reading

Today, about 20 minutes of each English class was independent reading. My students mostly love this time and use it well.  I decided to join them since it was not the entire class period. Since the book I'm reading was at home, I borrowed a book from a boy in my first period called Be More Chill by Ned Vizzini. I've never been overly enthusiastic about young adult literature, but there are some entertaining books out there, and for the most part, if students are reading, I think that's a good thing. This book has an intriguing cover and one of the blurbs was "Imagine Holden Caulfield with Internet access." Not sure why that attracted me; I thought Holden Caulfield was a jerk when I read The Catcher in the Rye in high school. The book was entertaining, but disturbing at the same time. I know, and have known for some time, what subject is uppermost in the mind of most (all?) teenage boys. But this book was so in your face with the "guys just gotta get in" theme that it was disconcerting. The concept of the story: the nerdly boy buys a squib, a computer-in-the-head life coach, who teaches him how to be cool. But the depictions of the girls in the story, the off-hand way they talked about sex, the whacking off, etc., made me so sad for kids today.  There sure isn't much mystery left.  And if girls internalize the message of this book, they'll feel like meat.

I read the book--okay I skimmed a couple of chapters in order to give it back to a student during sixth period, and I won't object to kids reading it. But I think I might say straight out that it distorts something very beautiful--more valuable than any 16 year old can know.

My current obsession

Like the rest of the world, I've begun the new year concentrating on losing weight. Here's my assistant--it's Livestrong.com or more specifically, The Daily Plate. I've counted calories successful a few times before, but this site makes it fun. First, they have everything in the world in the database, every brand, every flavor, every thing. It's amazing. I love that they show me the complete nutrition breakdown, tracks sodium, etc. I think I'll upgrade to Gold when I've tracked daily for two weeks. Hey, whatever keeps me moving forward, I'm for it. Another more troubling obsession tomorrow night.

What would we say if we could?

Read this blog with some professional reading today. The man's point is legit. Teachers are where the rubber meets the road (the juice meets the cell-phone?) in education, but there isn't much energy in finding out what we want and need to do the job successfully. It seems as though in the big picture, we're treated like a crowd of students, everyone gets punished for what some will (or won't) do. Imagine a roomful of politicians deciding what might truly change education. The school they are picturing can't be much like reality. They probably think fondly of the smell of mimeographed copies and remember pounding erasers to curry the teacher's favor. Oh wait, that was my school experience.

But if the question were posed to teachers, "What should be done to improve the overall results of education?" I'm not sure we'd get much information from the answers. There are almost as many answers as there are students. The things I would ask for are intangibles: don't kill their curiosity before they even start school, teach them that learning is fun, that it matters. I want students who are skeptical, but not cynical. Change schools so our work is relevant, connects to what concerns us all in the world, and seeks to prepare our children for an uncertain future. When are those Chinese classes coming on board, anyway?

I do know the answers can't be found in the federal government's pitiful new education program "Race to the Top." I was surprised that even 15 counties in Florida have signed on for a shot at these funds and it's telling that only one union leader out of those counties has agreed. The documentation disseminated about this program before the vote said that a county had to have the union on board, now that only one does, I'm sure that rule will be changed. The state legislature can only see the dollar signs, even though the amounts can't change the big picture. The details are so murky even the superintendents who've signed say they don't know how it will play out. Why would anyone sign a form saying "Yes, I am interested in getting money with many strings attached even while it's unclear what they are"? This writer says it more nicely than I have. But I don't think eyes wide open will cover it. Can you imagine a school board saying no to money that costs them nothing more than increased pressure on teachers?

Dropped out

I took the day off after spending the night up several times with incredible sinus pain and a low grade fever. The doctor saw me early and I dosed up with antibiotics in time to feel better for much of the day.  Tomorrow will have to be soon enough to talk about "Young Good man Brown" with my students. I hate that tight feverish "getting sick" feeling and was happy to sleep it off today and wake up feeling better.

Tonight is one of the first night I've dreaded posting, not because I don't have much to say, but because my hands hurt so badly. Ironic that the writing career that has yet to take off --hey, Grandma Moses started late, too--must be challenged by arthritis in the hands.  I keep thinking of my grandmother's gnarled hands and how she doggedly continued her work, crocheting, tatting, basketry, whatever. She wanted something to show for each and every day. She loved to garden and cook.  I miss her. She was one of my first friends, one of my only for a while when we moved out of Miami.

I really must get a bit more orderly about posting. I need a series of some sort. My brainstormed list starts tomorrow.

Now the new year can begin

Today my daughters, two friends, and my son-in-law came over and we packed up the Christmas decorations and tree. It's late to take them down, but we didn't get them up until the 21st, so I guess that's not too bad. We made short work of it, and I even managed to give them a few ornaments to take home. D. tried to get them to take their stockings, but that was not going to happen. They know that when those stockings leave this house, this Santa will never fill them again. They're so funny about being grown-up. I would think they would be ready to move away from childhood traditions; I pretty much ran from my childhood, even though it was a good one, I had no need to prolong it. My girls think I should buy them new pajamas for Christmas every year for the rest of their lives, even though we only began the tradition of new night clothes on Christmas Eve in consideration of Christmas morning pictures. Now that they're old enough to dress before they show up at the tree, I think they can manage their clothing on their own. Not to hear them tell it. Seems they were planning on coming in their pajamas every year. Oh well, plans can change.

I love the cleaned out feeling my house has when decorations are first put away. Clear the decks, let's begin again.

Quiet day, too cold to play

I'm really starting to get antsy about getting outside. I've not properly winterized my garden and now I'll be lazy, wait until this cold snap is over, and get ready for planting. I might have considered doing that today, but it was way too cold for this Florida girl--high 42--that's supposed to be the low temp this time of year.

So, I was lazy with my sweetie. My big outing was a drive to Baptist Hospital South to have my hands x-rayed. They're hoping to rule out rheumatoid arthritis. I would just like to stop the pain. Enough about that.

Sure hope to find a real topic for tomorrow.

Ach! missed a day already

I faced this fact a long time ago, I'm not a creature of habit. That's not to say that I don't get stuck in a rut and end up having a kind of routine. Also, teaching must be one of the most time-limited careers out there. Of course, most occupations are broken into time chunks, but in most, certainly most professions, there's a sense of "we'll work until the job is done." Teaching is not that way. Occasionally, I feel more like a ferry boat driver without the benefit of being out in nature or being able to run behind when I hit a stump than a teacher. That's a metaphor worth playing with later. But I've digressed far from my point. I want to write every day. I want it to be as automatic as brushing my teeth. More. I want it to be something I need to do. This seems like one way to go to make that happen. So, all that to say I hate the fact that a whole day slipped by without as word. A big day, a busy day.

The Transcendentalist Tea was a limited success. Next year, the academic portion of it will come days before the tea. I'll have the kids help me with music, decorations, and refreshments, with some research first on what would be time appropriate. They'll report on their historical figures the day before. Then we'll work harder to achieve a party atmosphere. Costumes will be encouraged, rewarded, but not required. What went down yesterday was oral reports with lovely refreshments. Not bad, somewhat pleasing to these students who do the traditional student routine 90+% of the time. But not a party. Ah, next year. Pardon me while I pause to break into a chesty "Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow, you're always a day away." I love that I get to do it again.

So, that's yesterday's post. Today's comes later.

Scones and tea

I love to cook--sometimes. Tonight began as one of those times. Now I've baked 85 scones in four varieties, craisins with nuts, chocolate chip, chocolate chip with nuts and Heath crunch, and apricot with currents. I'm waiting for the last batch to cool to finish packing them up all up. I still love cooking but my back is aching and I'm eager to be finished.

Tomorrow my students and I will share hot tea and scones at the Transcendentalist tea. It's some high effort (mostly mine) fun to culminate our study of Emerson, Thoreau, Whitman, and Dickinson. The students have chosen a Transcendentalist from a list and will come prepared to adopt the persona of that individual for about fifty minutes. They'll turn in a short research paper, mostly to prove they understand in-text citations, and share some of the accomplishments of the person they've studied with the group. I have some period music on my ipod and a few other props to make it special, flowers, white tablecloth, sugar cubes. I am psyched. It's a monumental task to get all the pieces there and set up, but once it's rolling, it's wonderful. At least, it may be. It's something I love about teaching, you never really know how things will go, but whatever happens, I plan to enjoy it.

Emerson would approve and enjoy himself. Thoreau would not attend. Whitman would make a celebrated appearance and be sure to speak to everyone. Dickinson would have tucked the invitation away with a quiet smile without considering attending, or perhaps she would attend and sit quietly in the corner observing. I'll have a few of those, I'm sure.

This is year two for the Transcendentalist tea. I can hardly wait.

Things I loved today

• My soft purple gloves
• Seeing my student's surprise at the paper-white Narcissus in my class that bloomed over the break
• Thinking about my students' lives as they came in and out
• A good nap after a dip in the hot tub
• Speed grocery shopping
• Ben and Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk--a farewell serving
• Hugs from my sweetie
• Beginning to enjoy my schedule again

Pretend it's still yesterday

This is the entry I would have written last night if I had taken the time away from grading to do it.

The three most overused phrases in my world--when I'm involved in a crazy quantity of grading:

• Use text support!
• Direct quotes are preferable to a paraphrase.
• No thesis statement

I guess I know what I should be focusing on as we proceed with the second half of the school year. And this is just the short list.

I think I can, I think I can...

I've had a good day gearing up for the storm of activity that is to come. When I think about all that must happen between now and Friday, it scares me. I didn't make my goal for grading, but I came darn close. I believe I can finish it tomorrow, and if one assignment has to slip to next term, life will go on. I am determined this term to not get bogged down, to turn every assignment around more quickly, to learn to love grading. (Can that even happen?) I'll stop there because I'll be setting myself up for failure if I go much farther than that.

D and I are enjoying the winter, mostly hibernating in the bedroom during home time and staying warm. We have a pretty good plan to stay warm without spending much money. I'm finally on board with his economic goal. It's basically to live as cheaply as we can--within reason--for a few months and see how much we can come out ahead now that we no longer have kids around regularly with their hands out for twenties.

Bedtime! Last night I stayed up half the night due to dread/excitement. Turns out I had nothing to get excited about. Tonight I am more sensible.

School tomorrow

Not really school, simply a work day to get ready for school which begins in earnest on Wednesday. I am less than excited about going, mostly because I've not made much of a dent in the mountain of grading I still must do before Wednesday at 10:00 am. I can do it; I will do it, but I continue to dislike it. How can I love teaching English, love talking about the works, love seeing them ponder new ideas through literature, and still hate reading their work so much? I actually remember a time in my own education when I decided to focus more on literature than teaching writing because I knew that teaching writing would lock me into a lifetime of reading bad writing. But here I am, with stacks of 10th grade work to mark and little desire to do it.

Hmm. On the bright side: I love my classroom, love my students, have a few wonderful colleagues and many others I do not know yet. My husband is wonderful, my kids are doing well, I have a new plan for my own fitness, and some optimism stored for the future. Grading papers is a minor woe. I can handle it.

Five reasons these holidays have been an odd, limbo existence.

This is part one of a year-long effort--I know, I'm a day late starting.

1. Still taking pain meds; some days are strange in that way.

2. Trash pick-up and recycle schedule is messed up and we can't get it right, can't remember what day it is for more than a few hours.

3. My DH has had a hernia repaired on 12/23 so some usual holiday activities are out.

4. I barely saw my mother and don't know when I'll see her again.

5. The weather changes so much the season makes no sense.

Oh yes, I am a teacher

I've been reluctant to begin this year. Our fearless leader hit us with a scolding over our school grade on Monday and most of the faculty were not pleased. Imagine if we told kids that they had to do better when they scored a B! Needless to say, the data did not go down well. Morale was not great and I was right there with my colleagues albeit with a knowledge that none of it really mattered.

Today was orientation. I met about 25 or 30 of my 87 Pre-IB English students and 4 of my journalism students. They are charming, smart, and ready to go to work. I remember why I do this. I hope all, or at least most, of my colleagues are feeling the same way. If so, we'll be just fine. Thank you, God, for youth and energy and another year in the classroom immersed in language.