tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70883536051693772162024-03-14T02:56:24.967-04:002011 New Hampshire Teacher of the YearDocumenting the mundane, interesting, incriminating, emotional, inspiring, and sometimes irreverent thoughts that occur over the course of a TOY reign.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-21067817224224839802011-12-31T12:01:00.002-05:002013-05-11T13:25:02.550-04:00Next...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There are still so many adventures and stories to write about, but the teacher of the year platform is no longer appropriate. Please visit my new blogs:<br />
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<a href="http://www.boundlessangie.com/" target="_blank">Boundless</a> is where I write personal essays about speaking at TED, parenting, friendships, creativity, politics, and whatever else flits through my world.<br />
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<a href="http://www.whynotrethinked.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">RethinkEd</a>, is my new education blog, where I continue to discuss the issues we face in the education profession, as well as explore technology integration, literacy, and best practices.<br />
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Thank you for all of your support throughout this exciting journey I have been on!<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-20440488993329188412011-12-30T10:06:00.000-05:002011-12-30T10:06:33.474-05:00The End<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Last night when my husband asked me if I had yet to write my final teacher of the year blog post, I had to shake my head no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, I had to admit, I had not updated my blog since November 12—a month and a half ago.<o:p></o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Why?<o:p></o:p></div><br />
Well, partly because I have struggled with looking for a way to clearly articulate the joys, the frustrations, and the transformations that occur when becoming a teacher of the year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because that’s what happens—you don’t walk into the position, you become it, you grow into it, and it takes a year. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But mainly, I haven’t written because I’m back in the classroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The craziness of travel, presentations, speeches, and opportunity is winding down, and I am finding myself focused on what is in my plan book. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And my plan book looks entirely different than it did one year ago.<o:p></o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">In fact, my entire professional landscape looks different than it did one year ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not the same teacher; my head is not in the same game.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While this made teaching a little difficult for me during the fall—I felt out of place in my own school, disconnected from the students I spent so much time away from, and restless as I found myself walking into Holderness day after day without interruption—I am now transitioned, feeling strong, and finding my stride again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have spent long hours talking through muddy ideas with close colleagues and my husband about where my passions lie, what I want to take with me as I leave this year, and what I must leave behind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have finally been able to articulate my goals and my desires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have sat in my classroom late into the night looking at blank bulletin boards that I haven’t had the energy to decorate and reading about educational theory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have collapsed in chairs at the 2:55 bell feeling beaten like a new teacher, and I have cheered at 2:55 feeling like I have conquered the world.<o:p></o:p></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I’m not the same teacher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And who can be after the boundless opportunities of travel I have been granted or the chances to meet engaging, dedicated teachers across the state and nation?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who can remain the same after meeting with state legislators about the damaging legislation we witnessed, sitting on Capitol Hill with our senator, addressing the US Department of Education, the NH Board of Education, and of course, meeting the president?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have been gifted with incredible fortune this year—it has been a life-changing experience for which I will be forever grateful.<o:p></o:p></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Out of the course of this experience, I have come to some conclusions that have taken me by surprise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have discovered that teachers are their own best resources and that we need to support one another through grass roots professional development. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have realized that the world is not always kind to ambitious women, nor is it always flexible or forgiving of human error. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have learned that teaching is a lifestyle—that you cannot do two jobs at once and be an excellent teacher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have learned that our classrooms need to be catapulted into the 21<sup>st</sup> century and that we need to do a better job at teaching on the very ground our students are growing up in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have seen the importance of relevance in education.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have recognized that not everybody who makes legislative decisions about my career knows a thing about my field—that in fact most legislators are not well-learned in the realities of the classroom at all, which means that teachers across the state and nation must be voices of activism and change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We must take hold of the educational conversation and offer proper guidance. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And most importantly, I have discovered that teachers in New Hampshire and across the country are doing remarkable things in their classrooms. Amazing things. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last week I was speaking to a woman from TED2012 and she said, “I just read and watched over 800 teacher applications from around the world, and I can’t believe what kinds of things are happening in their classrooms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish my children could have these kinds of people as teachers.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“They do,” I told her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“They do.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our culture underestimates what takes place in ordinary classrooms—they don’t understand the intricacies of the art that goes into tying together emotion, content, motivation, personality, scheduling, discipline, and creating awe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They don’t realize that all of our children have amazing teachers.<o:p></o:p></div><br />
So I return to the classroom with all of this in my back pocket where we are taking on new ideas, transforming what ELA instruction looks like, and redoing the plan book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My students are happy to have me back, but I am happier to be back in the midst of their learning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For a while I wondered about leaving the classroom to work with adults, but I don’t think that could be a fulltime possibility for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need to stick closer to the roots—to the energy that drives the branches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m keeping that for me.<o:p></o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">On the horizon?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Possibly a professional development organization driven by teachers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A book proposal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Teaching at conferences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Speaking. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A new blog. Who knows—I have many ideas and renewed drive given to me by the consistency of teaching in the classroom every day again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But whatever I do, it will only be done with students by my side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">So in once sense I feel whole again—I’m back in my room, surrounded by the students and books that I love, engaged in conversations about learning, dealing with the intimacy of the written word. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Parts of this feel normal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But in another sense I feel like my whole person is pieced together with new parts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My topics remain the same; my approaches not so much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And with this newness come the remarkable feelings every new teacher experiences—elation, excitement, inquiry, curiosity, and a sense of being overwhelmed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not exactly where I anticipated ending up, this feeling of newness, but I'm grateful for it.<o:p></o:p></div><br />
Thank you.<o:p></o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-73771876328440469672011-12-30T09:59:00.000-05:002011-12-30T09:59:56.543-05:00Bethany Bernasconi, 2012 NH Teacher of the Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jp1ma5s0E_o/Tv3GQFLGw5I/AAAAAAAABg0/30y0J9FIT-8/s1600/IMG_6104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jp1ma5s0E_o/Tv3GQFLGw5I/AAAAAAAABg0/30y0J9FIT-8/s320/IMG_6104.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Bethany Bernasconi, the 2012 NH Teacher of the Year, teaches Science in Windham. Her energy, enthusiasm, creativity, and drive will make her an exceptional representative of our profession this year. I, for one, am proud to call her a colleague and a friend, and I can't wait to watch her transformation over the year. Good luck to her as she takes on the world!<br />
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<a href="http://www.education.nh.gov/news/toy2012.htm">NH DOE Announcement</a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IpXhgijeWtw/Tv3IhcZhNGI/AAAAAAAABhc/GiavSLkIkwY/s1600/IMG_6126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IpXhgijeWtw/Tv3IhcZhNGI/AAAAAAAABhc/GiavSLkIkwY/s320/IMG_6126.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-75376621785943967662011-11-12T21:05:00.002-05:002011-11-13T12:14:57.312-05:00Middle School: The Perfect Storm<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When we middle school teachers alert other teachers that we are middle school teachers, we inevitably receive one of the following comments:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You must be crazy.</i> Or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">God bless you</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You are a special person</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Other teachers know what happens after the students leave their cozy pods of elementary classrooms and what happens before they enter the liberation of high school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it is a bit crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a time of intense change both socially and developmentally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, consider a newborn baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then examine a three year old who can speak, control her bowels, feed herself, walk, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Between the ages of 10-14, children experience the same kind of intense growth and change as they do between 0-3<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">These changes impact family structures greatly. The child who used to come home and tell parents everything is much more selective about what he or she shares.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He or she might even be surly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Removed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Irritable. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Erratic. Looking in his or her backpack creates arguments—because it feels like an invasion to the child’s desperately desired autonomy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A focus on social issues overcomes the household so that the bathroom is never empty, the phone is never available, the computer is always taken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Parents often complain that their children never come out of their bedrooms; that they don’t tell them if homework is done; that they don’t tell them about things that are happening at school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At the same time that all of this is happening, students change educational structures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In our school they move from class sizes of 9-15 with one teacher to a team of 5 teachers who see 85-100 students a day for 40 minute periods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In many schools in larger districts, students move from classrooms of 15-20 to large middle schools where teachers see 100-125 students a day. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is impossible for a teacher to contact 85-125 parents every week. Parents who were once accustomed to getting frequent communication, positive and negative, from their elementary teachers, find that communication drops off as teacher load increases, during a time when their children are also communicating less.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To top it all off, parents were once accustomed to having one teacher to communicate with and now have up to 5 content area teachers, so aren’t always sure where to begin themselves when they have concerns.<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is no wonder so many teachers opt not to teach this level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it is no wonder that so many parents are unhappy with middle schools across the nation. It is a perfect storm of physical, hormonal, mental, and educational change. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the children that parents once sent off to school are not the same ones that come home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">During this time, students start experimenting at school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What happens when they don’t do their homework?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What happens when they talk back to a teacher?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They try on different personas, looking for their identity, hanging out with different groups of kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They make mistakes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But they are most often surrounded by teachers who both love and understand this age group and are willing to provide them with a clean slate the following day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And so we know it’s okay for them to make mistakes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s okay for them to try something new and abandon it the next week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is the time to learn from these errors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we’re there to catch them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We also know that it is their responsibility not to make excuses for themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That it is their job to relay communication accurately to their parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That it is their job to take responsibility for their actions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And so discipline, communication, classroom management, homework policies…none of those things are the same as they were in the younger grades.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because we are dealing with a different kind of kid.<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I frame this blog post in this context: The other day we sat as a faculty and read over comments that were made on our recent school survey completed by parents, students, and faculty as part of our self-evaluation process. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One major theme stuck out:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>dissatisfaction with the middle school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At first it stung.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But if we looked at numbers—out of the 61 parents who took the survey, only 4 of them were consistently negative—the parents were overwhelmingly happy with us. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More importantly, when we read the students comments, my heart felt like it would burst.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over and over again, the majority of our students wrote that the greatest thing about their school was the teachers—that they felt challenged, understood, and cared for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that is our audience:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>those 10-14 year olds who show up every day during some of the hardest years of their lives, trusting us, including us, and taking risks for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are magnificent creatures, these middle schoolers—and maybe that makes us crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe that exposes us to criticism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I can’t imagine a more rewarding job.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-76910090067206812842011-11-08T12:06:00.000-05:002011-11-08T12:06:49.307-05:00How Curiosity Led Me To Game Theory<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><em><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we're curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.</span>” ~Walt Disney<o:p></o:p></span></em></div><em><span style="color: #003399; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 9pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 9pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">In terms of the <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">game theory</span>, we might say the universe is so constituted as to maximize play. The best games are not those in which all goes smoothly and steadily toward a certain conclusion, but those in which the outcome is always in doubt.</span>” ~George B. Leonard (1923)<span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></em><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When a teacher is no longer curious, he or she has brought stagnancy and complacency into the classroom, and I find the idea of those entities being present in our children’s lives unacceptable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And so every once in a while I do a quick self-check.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Am I still curious?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do I still have wonder at how the human brain learns?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do I still want to know more about my subject? Do I still want to know more about my students?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel like as soon as I fail that assessment, it is time to leave the classroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This year, however, the answer remains yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And my curiosity has led me down an unexpected path:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>one that involves technology, game theory, and a flipped classroom approach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anybody who knows me well and has spent time in my classroom knows that those kinds of things make me extremely uncomfortable and certainly don’t define my teaching style.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’ve been watching other teachers make an incredible impact on their students and deliver difficult material in a way that caters to a variety of learners—both in ability and style—and I’ve started rethinking some of my practices.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Start small.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In rethinking my approaches to subject matter, I decided to do a trial run of game theory in my typical 8<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> grade grammar unit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When teaching grammar, I often feel as though I am leaving behind a group of students who don’t get it—yet I have to move on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel as though there’s another group of students whose needs I am directly meeting, and then there is another group who is bored because they got it the first time, and now they are waiting while everybody else catches up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Great Grammar God Game will be an 8 week unit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each student has created an avatar and username and as they earn points during the unit they climb the board.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This past week I would have simply covered nouns, but “Koogle” and “Yolanda” have each mastered nouns and pronouns, and are well on their way to covering the adjective material.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Meanwhile, most of the class is undertaking pronouns, and then a couple of students are still working through the noun material with me, getting some reinforcement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am running the program through Edmodo—kind of a cross between Moodle and Facebook—and on this program, kids access all of my video podcasts (also on Vimeo), all of their written practices, and all of the directions for other activities they must do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They work with one another and help each other master the practice work; they meet with me about questions or struggles they might have; and when ready, they sit down and take a quiz independently. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They get four lives—and so if a student does not get an 80 or higher, he or she must retake the quiz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is my job, after all, to teach for mastery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today, a boy who failed his first and second quiz sat with me and we found a different approach for him to show me his knowledge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Granted the time to sit with him because of the independent learning taking place in the rest of the classroom, I was able to find out that he does in fact have mastery over nouns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He got a 95. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">For each part of speech, the practice work is worth 50 points and the quiz is worth 200.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the kids gain points they climb the board—they start out as a Nothing, move to a Mere Mortal, on to a Monster, Satyr, Centaur, Sprite, Hero, Demi-God, and finally a Grammar God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is also possible to become a Titan with extra points earned throughout the game. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One student came to see me after taking his quiz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told him he got a 96.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t blink.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“But how many points do I have?”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The idea of a student-centered classroom where students are working independently and all of their needs are being met is not a new idea—but some days it feels like an elusive one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I’m not sure how I could apply this kind of classroom to my subject matter entirely, but I’m working on melding my reading workshop philosophy with game theory; I think it will work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My nightstand is stacked with a new collection of books about educational gaming, 21<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup> century learning, and technology for the sake of advancing learning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a place I never thought I’d find myself—but when you’re curious, you never know where you’ll end up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-39044341116413930222011-11-02T21:00:00.001-04:002011-11-02T21:04:36.817-04:00TEDx NewEngland: An Abstract<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="color: black;"><em><span style="font-size: large;">“We need to stop in the course of our busy lives and look at what we already have done and ask, ‘What else is possible?’”<o:p></o:p></span></em></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">“To deny the chaos of reality is a disservice to our students.”<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><u><span style="font-size: large;">“I am what I share.”<o:p></o:p></span></u></span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><em><span style="font-size: large;">Generation Y “will be the one that needs to tackle global and economic issues” and they are a group of “strategic optimists” with “more dreams than memories.”<o:p></o:p></span></em></span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">“There is $50 billion in 4<sup>th</sup> graders’ pocket change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Imagine what they could do with that.”<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><u><span style="font-size: large;">“We need to empower kids to become social entrepreneurs who make a difference for themselves and the world.”<o:p></o:p></span></u></span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><em><span style="font-size: large;">"When you create value, you can claim value.”<o:p></o:p></span></em></span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">“Character is not a trait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is as malleable as anything else.”<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><u><span style="font-size: large;">“You and I are as infallible as anyone else and there are moral circumstances that will test this.”<o:p></o:p></span></u></span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><em><span style="font-size: large;">“How do you cultivate your moral humility?”<o:p></o:p></span></em></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">The above quotes came from the scribbles I hurriedly made in my program yesterday as I sat in the audience at WGBH studios in Boston (and so I cannot claim complete accuracy…apologies to anybody whose words I butchered or accidently re-invented), watching the first ever TEDx NewEngland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe they repres ent the level of thoughtfulness and exploration that then guided conversations well into the evening and the wee hours of morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Artists, scientists, researchers, sociologists, PhD candidates, and educators took the stage in what proved to be a highly successful event, leading us down paths of thought that filled us with admiration for a new generation, questions about our own fallacies, intrigue for the future, and hope that once-thought impossibilities could be seemingly possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think my words can or should compete with theirs, and so I’ll leave my commentary brief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I do want to congratulate the coordinators of TEDx NewEngland on their brilliant inaugural event and thank them for their support of the New England teachers of the year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your generosity and new friendship is greatly appreciated and adored.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-21677917539757123552011-10-31T16:41:00.003-04:002011-10-31T22:19:55.823-04:00Everyone Has a StoryI was standing in the kitchen washing potatoes several years ago--it was a winter night, dark had come already, and there was a steady hum of kids playing, NPR reporting, and my husband working around the house. I reached for a knife to cut off a green portion of a potato when suddenly a childhood story about a homeless man who was in my grandparent's basement eating their raw potatoes came pouring back to me. I quickly cut up the potatoes and raced through my living room yelling over my shoulder to my unsuspecting husband, "I need to go write something..."<br />
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I had a story. I am reminded of this every year when I embark on our memoir writing unit in 7th grade. I start the unit by telling my students the green potato story, and later read what I had eventually written down--words that wove together my childhood memories and my adult realizations of justice and prejudice to show how we find meaning in our memories. On this first day, we sit in a circle in my classroom on the floor and just spend 40 minutes telling stories. The only person who can speak is the one with the bouncy ball.<br />
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Writing memoir is one of my favorite units to teach, but this particular day is one of my favorite lessons. Without any sense of hindrance from getting language fine tuned on their paper, my students begin to pour forth their stories. And so I hear about getting lost in the grocery store; near death experiences, traveling, washing a cat off in a mall parking lot mud puddle, buying a new puppy, getting stranded in the snow, mistaking another adult as a parent...<br />
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Every child has a story. That's one reason why I think teaching English Language Arts is nothing short of an honor; my job allows this intimate glimpse into what my students think about, believe in, and question. But even then, I wonder if I take the time to really know everybody's story. Do we, as teachers, know the stories that are guarded behind a child who is a behavior problem? Do we know the stories behind the quiet student in the back of the room? Because when we know those stories, we are suddenly much more efficient in the classroom.<br />
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Last week on an 8th grade trip to Boston, I stood on a cement wall a couple of feet above my students, in front of the Holocaust Memorial, explaining to them what the towers and numbers represent. An elderly man and his wife wandered over to our group and stood among the students listening. I wondered why they were standing there, and I have to admit, my first reaction was one of annoyance. As the kids left me and began to stroll through the memorial, I saw some of them give the old man a quick lookover and then promptly move away from the stranger. I walked over and reached out my hand. "May I help you?" I asked.<br />
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The man was a WWII Navy pilot who flew over the concentration camps, never knowing what they were--he was never told until his service was up. He was shot down over Yugoslavia and it took him 10 days to get to safety. He asked me why my students were so interested in the Holocaust--he didn't think they would care.<br />
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And there you have it--I almost missed his amazing story because of an initial response to a stranger "infiltrating" our group. And he almost missed the story of how 14 year olds are passionate about justice, find meaning in history, and are fascinated by the Holocaust.<br />
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Think of all the stories we miss in a day because we are too busy, overwhelmed, annoyed, overbooked, scared, shy. We must not only remember to take the time to hear each others' stories, but to teach our children to take the time to hear one anothers' stories as well. And we need to, above all, make sure that our school environments are safe and comfortable enough for our children to share their stories.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-53799860655805508302011-10-22T18:34:00.000-04:002011-10-22T18:34:15.442-04:00One Week at Home: Final Reflections<em>"She was beginning to understand that evil is not absolute, and that good is often an occasion more than a condition." ~Gilbert Parker</em><br />
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I had hoped to come to some solid conclusions about life in Cuba after my brief visit. I had hoped to sit down in the airport terminal in Miami and let it all pour onto the paper. But draft after draft filled pages of messy, unorganized writing and unclear thoughts.<br />
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If I learned anything on this trip, it is that things are not black and white. And while we often give lip service to this cliched adage, nothing more so as my experiences last week has made it more clear.<br />
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When faced with different ideologies, we Americans, revolutionists and patriots at heart, tend to lean toward polarization--we feel that there must be a right way and a wrong way. We crave justice and justification. But I came away from Cuba with the new understanding that humanity is a leveling factor that simply defies ideology. We are so quick to judge another country's downfalls without examining our own, and we are afraid of embracing and learning from successes that our enemies may have encountered along the way.<br />
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I recently received an angry three and half page typed letter from a Cuban exile who personally attacked me for my views posted on this blog, requesting that I "withdraw that fantasy drivel" that I have written. At first, I began to compile research so I could write a rebuttal. But then I went back through to reread my "drivel" and realized that we are reading through two different sets of eyes. We are of different generations, different nationalities, and have different historical perspectives. What I write as inquiry and wonder about a process and its results, he misperceives as awe and admiration for a gang of bloodthirsty thugs. What he has determined as black and white for so many years now, I am now viewing as gray.<br />
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This is the very problem with policy and polarization. Cuba has a bloody revolutionary past. At the end, many left, frightened and having lost everything. Loved ones went missing. Others saw their families settle into better situations, experiencing greater equality. Anything historical can be seen through two sets of eyes. As Americans, we can admire our innovation and Western expansion of this great land and nation, while Native Americans may recall a time when 30,000 of their people were lost to combat and 80-90% of their population fell victim to smallpox. It's all about perspective.<br />
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Cuba is fresh though. Those who prospered and those who suffered are still alive, trying to make sense of a living history as Fidel Castro lay sick, and his 80 year old brother leads the country. And the changes that are positive, like health care and education, feel outweighed at times by the documented human rights atrocities and limitations on freedom of speech.<br />
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Nothing is black and white. Some situations elicit inconclusiveness. But no situation eludes the necessity of inquiry and exploration.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-32470666692749476412011-10-21T23:42:00.002-04:002011-10-21T23:46:16.219-04:00Examining Cuban Literacy: aka The Reason for my Travels to Cuba<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_dfj5Oiv-yA/TqIrio6ieSI/AAAAAAAABgA/QT3lqXfqFsI/s1600/IMG_6532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_dfj5Oiv-yA/TqIrio6ieSI/AAAAAAAABgA/QT3lqXfqFsI/s320/IMG_6532.JPG" width="320" /></a>In 1961, the rural illiteracy rate in Cuba was 42% (illliteracy in urban areas was closer to 11%) . During that year, nearly 270,000 teachers traveled into the countryside to live alongside families to teach functional literacy. Of those 270,000 "brigadistas," over 100,000 were between the ages of 10 and 19 and more than half were female. Within one year, the illiteracy rate was lowered to 4%, and today, 50 years later, Cuba has the second highest literacy rate in the world and is called upon by numerous nations to assist with raising their literacy rates.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oF8ZyIUC1R8/TqIsp79a3mI/AAAAAAAABgQ/82Gn7oakHRg/s1600/IMG_6554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oF8ZyIUC1R8/TqIsp79a3mI/AAAAAAAABgQ/82Gn7oakHRg/s320/IMG_6554.JPG" width="320" /></a>I find this fascinating. There are pictures of hundreds of thousands of teachers returning to Havana, marching into Revolution Square, carrying large, wooden pencils where their leader greeted them. Teenagers were willing to leave their families to go and teach others--it was a political initiative and it embraced the youth.<br />
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"Yo Si Peudo" is the name of the Cuban Literacy Program that is now implemented across the world. The program works with coutnries such as New Zealand, Mexico, Canada, and Boliva. In 2006 UNESCO recognized Cuba's innovative methods and recognized its work with over 15 countries to improve social conditions through literacy.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UFgKdstCbw0/TqIs6ZEh4xI/AAAAAAAABgY/HDf9ZL4k8hM/s1600/IMG_6571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UFgKdstCbw0/TqIs6ZEh4xI/AAAAAAAABgY/HDf9ZL4k8hM/s320/IMG_6571.JPG" width="320" /></a>At the Cuban Literacy Museum we were given a presentation and shown the materials used in "Yo Si Puedo." And while we only had the time to quickly peruse the English materials, I didn't see anything remarkable. What was remarkable were the initiatives that embrace such materials, the cultural sensitivity when applying them in different countries, and the developmental pedagogy involved when educating adult learners. Each country who has enlisted Cuba's help in literacy training has made it a priority. And while putting youth in uniforms and marching them into the fields is a bit extreme and unlikely to occur in any other country than post-Castro Cuba, the sentiment remains the same: literacy is a priority. When Cuba collaborates with another nation, it does not just make adjustments in language; it calls for developing materials that align with the intended audience's culture. Actors from those countries are brought in to create the video clips used and written materials address local customs and culture. Adult learners are given adult topics; it is recognized that making connections is a critical element to reading comprehension.</div><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N_7dNHEYNEk/TqIt5lNm_yI/AAAAAAAABgo/W1SnZF9lv4E/s1600/IMG_6548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N_7dNHEYNEk/TqIt5lNm_yI/AAAAAAAABgo/W1SnZF9lv4E/s320/IMG_6548.JPG" width="213" /></a>The United States has a 99% literacy rate--only .9% behind Cuba. But the largest difference is the value placed on education and literacy. Detroit has a 47% functional illiteracy rate. Imagine, with our force of powerhouse teachers and youth, what could occur if we gathered our own sorts of reading troops and made adult education a priority. That would be unheard of..<br />
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Like the history of Cuba and Castro or not, the country's commitment to adult literacy is impressive.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-28385051422186459512011-10-14T18:55:00.002-04:002011-10-14T18:55:59.962-04:00Day 4 In Cuba: Just the Facts<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">On the first day here, Sarah Daisy, our guide, asked us to hold off until the end of the week before we drew any conclusions about her country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the time being, here are some of the facts that have come to light for me, which I will use to form my opinion: <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Every single person in this country is given a ration of food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today I was able to sneak a look at a ration book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Among other things, each person in a household receives 2 pounds of chicken and 7 pounds of rice per person. Other foods include cooking oil, flour, eggs, pasta, juice, beans, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If they want to trade their ration at the store for something else, the grocer will generally allow it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If they want other foods, it comes from their paychecks. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Everybody is guaranteed housing, and they pay 10% of their paycheck for their homes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just recently the government passed a law that residents are allowed to sell their houses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, there is a major housing shortage, and so if somebody wishes to move, they need to find somebody else who is willing to swap homes with them at the right price.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This makes moving into a nicer home or a bigger home difficult, because it is rare to find somebody in a nice, large home who is willing to trade for a smaller, dilapidated home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And there are many of those, because the government decides when you can refurbish or repaint homes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the 90s, during the Special Period, the economy was particularly bad for Cuba, and then in 2005 the island was hit by numerous hurricanes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This has left many buildings uninhabitable and in disrepair.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">3.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Cuba has the second highest literacy rate in the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have some of the best doctors in the world, and their infant mortality rates and average lifespan rival first world countries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is because when Castro came into power, he focused on healthcare and education.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I find this fascinating, because for any country to rise from poverty and become empowered, those basic needs must be met.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In countries like Sudan, you see efforts focusing on healthcare and education.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because of this, when you walk around Havana, you see healthy people, and most of the people we have encountered here are well educated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These are priorities.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">4.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Because the government pays for all jobs, people who work in the tourist industry and receive tips sometimes make more money than doctors or teachers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of our cab drivers was a teacher, but decided to become a driver because he makes more money that way.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">5.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The embargo makes getting simple supplies expensive and this creates great hardships.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With a bit of digging and talking to people who were finally willing to share, we heard that hospitals don’t have enough supplies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have amazing doctors, but no supplies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People don’t have enough food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are guaranteed a certain amount, but it is not enough, and their salary is so low (one man told one of us he didn’t even make $200 last year) that they have a hard time paying for food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While we have been shown beautiful schools, we have passed other schools that are in shambles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have heard that there are not enough books for children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are allotted 2 pencils per month per child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One man in the streets begged me for pens for his nephews.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">6.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The government subsidizes the publishing houses, and because so many book publishers are tied with American publishers, it is difficult to get outside authors published in Cuba. Four hundred copies of every book that is published are placed in libraries around the country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>According to the director of the Cuban Book Institute, they are not interested in publishing the likes of Dan Brown, because he is not literature.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Any kind of writing that would encourage violence will not be published.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The government has the final say in what kinds of literature the people will read.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">7.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For a Cuban to travel, he or she must receive a written invitation from the person he or she would be visiting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if this occurs, it is difficult to save enough money to visit other countries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The United States is supposed to give 20,000 Visas a year for Cubans to visit, but last year only allowed 400.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sarah Daisy saves Euros and American dollars in the hopes that someday she will have enough money to save to travel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she could go anywhere in the world, she would choose Canada.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">8.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Under Batista, there was legalized segregation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fidel Castro integrated buses, schools, and workplaces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With slavery as their backdrop of history, Cubans are highly aware of race relations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And while racism still occurs, interracial marriages are more common, and the general public, especially in Havana, is fairly tolerant.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-50037920643741183012011-10-13T18:43:00.001-04:002011-10-14T01:19:20.605-04:00Havana: Day 3 In Poetry<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Havana<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With rum that pulses in veins to the <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">rhythm<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>of cha cha bands—<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">men caressing guitar strings,<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">muting trumpets, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">and swaying their hips—<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">it easy to forget the call of democracy.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">No ocean breeze <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">penetrates the age old heat <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">that is trapped by walls of stone<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">in a town square.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Vibrant blues, greens, and<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">oranges take our attentions captive<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">so that we do not recognize the absence of <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">the life we know.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Laundry blows from a balcony<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">and cigar smoke lingers in the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lilt<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">of foreign tongues dance while<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">a man with smooth brown skin winks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bueno.<o:p></o:p></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A child laughs. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">An old woman, hunched in an arched doorway<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">watches, nods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We forget heartache.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Che Guevera, impossibly handsome, overlooks<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">every move from a poster here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A billboard there.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">His warm eyes convincing us<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">that revolution can be progressively suave.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The people are warm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ask us anything</i> they tell us.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">We will be honest</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But the cab driver from Guantanamo <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">driving a 56 Chevy<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">doesn’t quite answer my questions about Castro.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the tour guide with her open smile dismisses<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">me with humor.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But I understand.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I too live in a country where the corrupt are forgiven or forgotten.<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Where those who have sinned against us <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">do not need to repent, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">and the people who have<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">been sinned against, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">do not often know.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-67814961358299148632011-10-11T22:18:00.001-04:002011-10-11T22:22:38.924-04:00Day 2 In Cuba: Old Cars, Long Meetings, and a Little Cha Cha<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day 2 In Cuba<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tuesday, October 11, 2011<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am still pinching myself—I am in Havana. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Old cars cruise the street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Music blares from apartments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Laundry hangs over balcony walls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dogs roam the sidewalks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Old women smoke cigars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People everywhere are falling in love.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Looking at our agenda, I would say that today was probably the most difficult day for me. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I cannot sit still long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Meetings that stretch for hours leave me doodling or pacing in the back of the room, and no matter how compelling the speaker or the subject, I lose interest and become impatient, antsy, and rammy. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately, I experienced this a bit today—an engaging, charismatic teacher—one who was part of Castro’s original literacy movement 5o years ago ran a session for us to inform us about Cuba’s education setup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sarah Daisy, our guide/escort/interpreter for the week translated her words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the lilt of the words and the cadence of the Spanish began to lull me, and I once again found myself standing in the back of the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That being said, the professor’s session was incredibly informative and struck a cord with me, as she kept mentioning the importance of family and community involvement with their schools.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cuba underwent a huge public awareness campaign called “Educate Your Son” (yes, I know, I too have a problem with this title…) that really brought the importance of early childhood education (0-5 years) to the forefront of parenting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The campaign reminds parents that they are the most important resource for their children in those early years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She talked about how decisions for children are made with the families and how they are involved with the school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was very impressive.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Before our next meeting, we had an hour of free time, and so my new friend Peggy and I hit the pavement and explored the neighborhood taking pictures, meeting new people, and just soaking it all in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The streets of Cuba teem with life and color.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We then traveled over to the organization that is hosting us and met a lovely woman who spoke to us about how they work with other international organizations. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We discussed political issues—particularly the one with the Cuban 5—five men who have been arrested in the US and are being detained and accused of terrorism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is very interesting to read the US version and then to hear the Cuba version.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It makes you realize the different perspectives that emerge from cultures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It also makes you realize that Cuba may not be the only place that uses propaganda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am finding myself wondering how much of it we are fed ourselves.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We had a city bus tour, and this would be my third bus tour this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>DC, Huntsville, and now Havana.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I will say is I hate bus tours and ended up falling asleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">With an hour and a half back at the hotel, I finally got out for a run along the pathway that weaves alongside the waterfront—the Atlantic on one side, Havana on your other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The intense pollution, uneven tar, inhibiting heat, and ridiculous machismo of the men sitting on the seawall, riding their bikes, or just driving by, made running difficult, but <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>how often do you get to run in Havana?<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Dinner was heavenly—and I was able to rouse my delegation to some dancing to the cha cha band; we even got the cook and waiters to dance with us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it was a restaurant for tourists, and I am desperately wanting to find my way into the real Cuba to talk to real Cubans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked Sarah Daisy about this, and she told me that tomorrow when I am free for the afternoon to just start talking to people and adventure will find me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to eat at roadside stands and walk crumbling streets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to hear people’s stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think I can talk a couple of the other delegates into this as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was not able to successfully convince anybody to hit up the jazz club across the street tonight, but I’m working on it.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My vegetarianism doesn’t quite fit into the pork pork pork diet here, but they are delighted that I eat fish, and so I have had fish for four straight meals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has all been delicious, but I wonder how much fish I will have eaten by the end of the week!<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I miss my TOY friends—we would have a blast here together and it feels odd to be on a trip without them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I miss my family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My husband and I travel well together, and there are so many times I wish I could turn to him to exclaim over something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Tomorrow we get to explore on our own. My goals: find some souvenirs, ride in a big old car, dance with a Cuban, and talk with a child.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just want to absorb it all. So I am.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-19402078798624531192011-10-11T08:35:00.000-04:002011-10-11T08:35:25.482-04:00Day One In Cuba--Entering Surreality<div align="right" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Monday, October 10, 2011 11:06 pm<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div align="right" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day 1<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Cuba.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am in Cuba sitting on a bizarrely large bed made up of two double beds pushed together (thanking whoever the room gods are that I don’t have a roommate) in a room that overlooks the city skyline of Havana.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The air outside is humid, and while I know I should be tucked in, putting myself to sleep, contagious Latino excitement fills the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today is a national holiday for Cubans, and the streets are lined with people sitting alongside the ocean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The jazz club across the street exudes waves of blue and green lights, and the mojitos here slide down a little too easily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sleep eludes me.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This morning—which feels a lifetime ago—I started out in Miami.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a late night of couch talk with my old high school friend, I awoke this morning and strolled down to an Argentinian bakery and sat outside eating croissants and drinking fresh squeezed orange juice reminiscent of Mexico.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I arrived at the airport, I found myself in a terminal that did not compare to any my other flight experiences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Men resembling Oompah Loompas in their black outfits with neon green stripes around their midsection canvassed the terminal, convincing passengers to excessively wrap their luggage in neon green plastic wrap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>English was barely heard anywhere, and the counters were barely labeled with small signs of airlines I have never heard of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Police officers rode through the hallways on mountain bikes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I looked out the window, it was obvious we were in a very remote area of the Miami International Airport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I walked around a bit and finally found my airline—Sky King.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Really.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then I found the rest of my delegation—a diverse group of mostly university professors from around the country (except dear Rebecca, who made a very long trip from Uganda).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They stood in a group to the left of a long, snaking line full of Cubans with carts stacked unimaginably high with neon green packages—TVs, fans, tires, and bags and bags of who-knows-what-kind-of-stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We got our boarding passes and checked our luggage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently, you can fly out of Miami directly to Cuba.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who knew? Everything appeared to be normal, until the attendant came around with a pad of paper and publicly took down everybody’s body weight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was definitely an icebreaking moment of unexpected group intimacy, but I was suddenly a bit nervous about the possibility of a delicately balanced airplane.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We then received notice that our flight was delayed by 3 hours, so settled into a hotel lobby to meet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Quick introductions indicated that we have a group of all women who, while committed to research and literacy, are truly part of this delegation because of the desire to visit Cuba.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Adventurists at heart, we will find excellent companionship among one another, I think.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Security and the flight were surprisingly uneventful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The plane was large, and the landing was one of the smoothest and most relaxing I have experienced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We caught sight of Havana outside our window, and then swooped over the lush, green countryside skimming the landscape for some time—so low we could see the details of palm trees and cars on the highway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps this was a piece of propaganda to show us the beauty of the land? I appreciated it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Inside the Havana airport my picture was taken in Customs and I was made aware that intricately designed fishnet stockings are the current trend for the women workers at the airport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We waited for some time for our luggage and then left the interior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A large crowd awaited their families’ arrival outside—it looked like a Beatles concert—people reaching over the gate, cheering when a recognized face emerged.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We got a brief taste of the gorgeous scenery and old cars that await our cameras over the next few days and met our personal tour guide—Sarah Daisy—an articulate, honest, engaging Cuban.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Ask me a question, and tell me what kind of answer you want,” she cheerfully told us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The official answer, or the regular citizen answer.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is honest in the struggles of Cuba, but also revels in its successes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is a wealth of knowledge and tells interesting stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She asks that we cast no judgment on her country until we’ve examined it closely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m looking forward to spending the week with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our hotel is a 5 star hotel that sits alongside the Carribean and my room is on the 13<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> floor, on which the elevator does not appear to want to stop.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Dinner was served in Old Havana—a maze of cobblestone streets and old, brick austerity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cats meander across the architecture 20 feet in the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dogs laze around in the square.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Families play with their kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Women with baskets of fruit on their head, smoking cigars ask for money.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mojitos are served with meals and the fish is simply to die for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The heat does not break.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I exchanged US dollars for CUCs at the hotel and went across the street to a small market where I had to spend $8.40 CUCs for a 12 pack of bottled water (approximately $9 USD).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I am supposed to run tomorrow, and already feel dehydrated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cannot figure out how to log on to the Internet, for which I also had to pay, but will attempt that in the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The walls are thin; I can hear the mopeds zooming by on the streets and the couple next door engaged in a lively conversation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Propaganda about America and Castro line the downstairs lobby hallway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They clearly know who their audience is.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tomorrow we begin our explorations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am anxious to start thinking about literacy rates, healthcare, and the desire for socialism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My readings have reinforced the importance that I cannot look at the culture through my American lense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are two sides to every story, and this story, I believe will be an interwoven one full of the complexities of humanity, struggle, and justice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-40036835653977842982011-10-05T22:23:00.000-04:002011-10-05T22:23:28.179-04:00Testing Season'Tis the season.<br />
<br />
For eight straight days, my 8th graders are settling into my room, uncustomarily set up in sterile rows facing front, handed #2 pencils, and asked to sit in silence for over an hour to complete their NECAPs. It does not feel natural, and the students comment that they do not feel at home in here, in this setup.<br />
<br />
But they listen attentively as I read aloud the same instructions they have heard for the past five years. The same instructions that all students across the state and New England are hearing. They do not feel as though I am personalizing their instruction. They do not like that I cannot help them or guide them. Yet, they still open their booklets, at the same time, and begin to read and write. They use up every last minute allotted to them. They fill their spaces. I watch them and hope that all I've taught them about reading for information and writing about texts will become evident here, because even though this test was never intended to test my teaching, it is used in that way.<br />
<br />
As a teacher who often works from intuition, who knows that science and data cannot name or dictate all parts of life, my first instinct is to criticize standardized testing in schools: there is irrefutable research that shows that noninstructional factors--like poverty, parent education, and community--explain most of the variances between school districts. When the 2010 PISA scores were examined closely, the only consistent correlation between achievement and another factor they could find was that between student achievement and parent education. And when teacher accountability and performance is tied in with test scores gains, there is a 26 percent error rate. Clearly these are red flags. <br />
<br />
Yet, I am also a teacher who loves data. I analyze what my students know and then use that to drive my instruction--because that's what we should be doing. We should be able to justify every single moment of teaching in the classroom. And to do this, one must test; it is inevitable. Testing is not perfect. It can be biased, and accuracy can be thrown by too many personal issues that students carry in the door with them--they will be the first to admit that. But this imperfect source of gathering information is a place to start. <br />
<br />
I talk to my kids about all of this. I go over their scores with them, so they know where they can improve. We talk about what these scores mean and what we need to do in the classroom together over the course of the year. I do not teach to the test. I teach my curriculum, and I must do so with confidence that the test is aligned with my curriculum. I explain each part of my curriculum to my students and tell them why it is important. I listen to their frustrations about testing, but watch them pour over the data. They see value in this, too, despite the obvious imperfections.<br />
<br />
Amidst all of the criticism of standardized testing, voices of reason fail to emerge. We need reform in this area, absolutely, but we need not throw the baby out with the bathwater. We need to push for more adaptive testing that indicates growth and not status. If policy makers had included educators in the decisions that led to this test-heavy educational environment, we may have arrived here earlier. Once again, we are reminded that teachers, the experts, need to be the guiding voice in these kinds of decisions and educational policy. But we do eventually learn from our mistakes. New testing practices that are being examined do adopt better practices, and educators are being included in the conversations. For the time being, however, we must embrace what positive we can from our imperfect system and use it to benefit our students.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-69952279922430203902011-09-27T19:13:00.004-04:002011-10-05T20:55:41.231-04:00Goodbyes<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">“Let me say before we part, so much of me is made of what I learned from you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You'll be with me like a handprint on my heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And know whatever way our stories end, I know you have re-written mine by being my friend...”</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;">~Elphaba (from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Wicked</i>)</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
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</div><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MJi0ASWPa3E/ToJU-RAhQ5I/AAAAAAAABeE/dmdOnGxQZFg/s1600/Jay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="132" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MJi0ASWPa3E/ToJU-RAhQ5I/AAAAAAAABeE/dmdOnGxQZFg/s200/Jay.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jay Maebori, WA</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">There is physical pain in saying goodbye for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel it when my 8<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> graders graduate or when a student moves away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the heaviness that squeezes my heart today after having said goodbye to the other 2011 State Teachers of the Year is nearly suffocating.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-haKLZyG5_xo/ToJTqyYsBeI/AAAAAAAABd4/2x70KoSLjdQ/s1600/IMG_5922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-haKLZyG5_xo/ToJTqyYsBeI/AAAAAAAABd4/2x70KoSLjdQ/s200/IMG_5922.JPG" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wilma Ortiz, MA </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><v:shapetype coordsize="21600,21600" filled="f" id="_x0000_t75" o:preferrelative="t" o:spt="75" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" stroked="f"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <v:stroke joinstyle="miter"> <v:formulas> <v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"> <v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"> <v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"> <v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"> <v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"> <v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"> <v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"> <v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"> </v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:formulas> <v:path gradientshapeok="t" o:connecttype="rect" o:extrusionok="f"> <o:lock aspectratio="t" v:ext="edit"> </o:lock></v:path></v:stroke></span></v:shapetype><v:shape alt="Description: \\hcs-svr-file\users$\Teachers\amiller\My Pictures\NJ NYC\IMG_5981.JPG" id="Picture_x0020_1" o:spid="_x0000_s1030" style="height: 169.85pt; left: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 13.7pt; mso-height-percent: 0; mso-height-relative: page; mso-position-horizontal-relative: text; mso-position-horizontal: absolute; mso-position-vertical-relative: text; mso-position-vertical: absolute; mso-width-percent: 0; mso-width-relative: page; mso-wrap-distance-bottom: 0; mso-wrap-distance-left: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-right: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-top: 0; mso-wrap-style: square; position: absolute; text-align: left; visibility: visible; width: 113.25pt; z-index: 251658240;" type="#_x0000_t75"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <v:imagedata o:title="IMG_5981" src="file:///C:\Users\ANGIEM~1\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image001.jpg"> <w:wrap type="square"> </w:wrap></v:imagedata></span></v:shape><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We have met as a cohort four times over the course of this year—in Dallas, where we were prepped for the year; in DC where we were set forth to use our voices; in Alabama where we learned to take risks; and finally, this last trip in New Jersey and New York City where we were able to process our insecurities, confusions, dreams, and futures.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gavw5MQz48A/ToJVAg-o5uI/AAAAAAAABeI/A3kkH5RiXvM/s1600/Jennifer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gavw5MQz48A/ToJVAg-o5uI/AAAAAAAABeI/A3kkH5RiXvM/s200/Jennifer.jpg" width="161" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jennifer Facciolini, NC</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><v:shape alt="Description: \\hcs-svr-file\users$\Teachers\amiller\My Pictures\NJ NYC\IMG_6017.JPG" id="Picture_x0020_2" o:spid="_x0000_s1029" style="height: 180pt; left: 0px; margin-left: 221.25pt; margin-top: 42.7pt; mso-height-percent: 0; mso-height-relative: page; mso-position-horizontal-relative: text; mso-position-horizontal: absolute; mso-position-vertical-relative: text; mso-position-vertical: absolute; mso-width-percent: 0; mso-width-relative: page; mso-wrap-distance-bottom: 0; mso-wrap-distance-left: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-right: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-top: 0; mso-wrap-style: square; position: absolute; text-align: left; visibility: visible; width: 120pt; z-index: 251659264;" type="#_x0000_t75"> <v:imagedata o:title="IMG_6017" src="file:///C:\Users\ANGIEM~1\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image003.jpg"> <w:wrap type="square"> </w:wrap></v:imagedata></v:shape><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The relationships built through these trips have grown to become part of our identities, both professionally and personally. I know what this looks like from the outside. We have, after all, only spent a total of 22 days out of 8 months in one another’s company; it sounds absurdly shallow to say that these are some of my best friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But we have been woven together during a time when we are juggling the complexities of new roles and being immersed in experiences at home and nationally that have changed who we are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not one of the 55 of us is the same teacher or person we were a year ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And in the midst of exciting, turbulent change, we have needed to reach out to those who fully understand, simply because they are experiencing the same. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I think this is a difficult concept for many of our colleagues, friends, and families to accept.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wm6tk6X_BlI/ToJUzOZ7odI/AAAAAAAABeA/-Ict-o47Tfo/s1600/IMG_6017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wm6tk6X_BlI/ToJUzOZ7odI/AAAAAAAABeA/-Ict-o47Tfo/s200/IMG_6017.JPG" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Erika Webb, KY</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">And I understand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because how is it possible to fully describe my preciously wild Wilma, who embraces me each time we meet and reaches out to hold my hand during dinner?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or my steadfast Jennifer who lets me curl up on her bed in my pajamas in the middle of the night, and then says just the right things to ease my mind?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How do I explain that my beautiful Erika’s spirit is so much the same as mine, that the very first time we met, we fell into a conversation like old friends?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no way to articulate my comrade Jay’s ability to make me laugh aloud at absurdities, and then moments later delve into a serious discussion about pedagogy, a good novel, or humanity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And words cannot accurately capture the treasured friendship of my dear Paul, whose honest, forthright conversations have accompanied me on many long meanderings through Alabama heat, city traffic, and riverside trails.</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Tahoma","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-no-proof: yes;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DvBRF71bIj8/ToJURziE6SI/AAAAAAAABd8/D_Vo7JXYruE/s1600/IMG_5906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DvBRF71bIj8/ToJURziE6SI/AAAAAAAABd8/D_Vo7JXYruE/s320/IMG_5906.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paul Andersen, MT</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">These are my people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I have fallen in love with them. They have reinvigorated my teaching and challenged my thinking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are</span><v:shape alt="Description: \\hcs-svr-file\users$\Teachers\amiller\My Pictures\NJ NYC\IMG_5906.JPG" id="Picture_x0020_4" o:spid="_x0000_s1026" style="height: 121.5pt; left: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; mso-height-percent: 0; mso-height-relative: page; mso-position-horizontal-relative: text; mso-position-horizontal: absolute; mso-position-vertical-relative: text; mso-position-vertical: absolute; mso-width-percent: 0; mso-width-relative: page; mso-wrap-distance-bottom: 0; mso-wrap-distance-left: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-right: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-top: 0; mso-wrap-style: square; position: absolute; text-align: left; visibility: visible; width: 182.25pt; z-index: 251661312;" type="#_x0000_t75"> <v:imagedata o:title="IMG_5906" src="file:///C:\Users\ANGIEM~1\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image009.jpg"> <w:wrap type="square"> </w:wrap></v:imagedata></v:shape><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> part of what defines me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have left “handprints on my heart.” There are many things that have taken me by surprise this year, but nobody prepared me for the intensity of the friendships I would build, nor the heartache of leaving those people on a warm September morning in Times Square. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>But then I remember,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>we were all brought together because we can make amazing things happen—and there’s nothing so amazing about visiting an old friend. We’ll see each other again. It’s what friends do, after all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-68375095575439944992011-09-19T21:24:00.000-04:002011-09-19T21:24:04.421-04:00A Little Honest Reflection"<span class="body"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">And, because there was an honesty about all that was going on, it connected with the people in the street." ~Ben E. King</span></span><br />
<br />
Confession: I did not want to return to school this year. <o:p></o:p><br />
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<o:p> </o:p>In the days leading up, I agonized over how to stay upbeat and positive in the classroom, how to pretend I cared during endless meetings, and how to invest the time necessary to do a good job. I confided in my husband that I wanted a job that didn't overwhelm me--one that didn't overtake my life. I daydreamed about writing books, public speaking, consulting...anything but the classroom.<o:p></o:p><br />
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Before speaking at three inservices, I broke down to a friend that I felt like a complete fraud. How can I stand in front of what totaled thousands of teachers and inspire them to go out into their field and take on the world, when I didn't feel like I had the strength to do so myself? <o:p></o:p><br />
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And so I resigned to starting my year with a "fake it til you make it" kind of attitude, feeling the word fraud emblazened upon my forehead. <o:p></o:p><br />
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But I didn’t have to fake it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because as soon as real live kids walked through those doors, I fell in love with teaching all over again. It is nearly impossible to break away from clichés when you are talking about love, I tell my students when they are writing, and that is how I feel when I talk about teaching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Teaching is love for me. A breath of fresh air, a drink of cold water, contagious energy…it’s all there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was immediately engulfed in their very joy of living.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did I really contemplate not spending my days with such an amazing creature as the middle school student?<o:p></o:p><br />
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When I arrived home from school one day last week, I joyfully declared to my husband, "You will be happy to know, that I love my job." He smiled at me, wearing that smug, "I told you so" kind of look, and reminded me that he had actually ignored all of my griping. "I knew," he said, "that as soon as you got back in the classroom with the kids you'd be fine. It's who you are--what else could you be but a teacher?"<o:p></o:p><br />
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He's right. The other day I watched some of my students play with a professional musician as part of our Artist In Residence program, and I left the room crying because the joy on their faces spoke so strongly to me. A student wrote about me, "It sounds like Mrs. Miller has a great family, but what I love about her is that she treats us like we're her family too." I have had parents thank me and I have watched students' eyes come alive as they understand a new concept. I have already had to sit and have some really difficult conversations with students that led to productive decisions. I often come home feeling like I have triumphed. I laugh out loud every single day at my job. How many people laugh out loud countless times every single day because of their work?<o:p></o:p><br />
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I love teaching. What else would I do?<o:p></o:p><br />
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But I don't do well with hiding my feelings, and I feel like part of my job is to be honest with fellow teachers. Know that these confessions do not come easily, because I have been criticized heavily for my honesty this year. However, when I step back and look at where the criticism has come from, it has never once come from teachers. The teachers I have worked with over the past year have thanked me for saying what they feel they can't say (although I argue each time that they too can say these things), and have greeted me so kindly with their support. It is those not in the classroom who expect us to defy the forces of human emotion and smile without acknowledgement of the difficulties we face each day.<o:p></o:p><br />
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Sometimes we just need to hear from one another. We tend to suffer in silence, feeling as though nobody else understands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it’s okay to confess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s okay to be real. We just need to remember that there is a reason why we came into teaching—the kids. And we need to forget the other stuff and embrace the learning and life that exists in our classrooms. And be honest about it. Because only with honesty do we find the truth.<o:p></o:p><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-84126474042647123882011-08-30T17:34:00.000-04:002011-08-30T17:34:49.507-04:00Ten Great Things About the First Day of SchoolAfter kissing my oldest daughter goodbye at 2 am before she headed off to Chicago for college, being left with an empty gas tank (and all the gas stations in town are under water because of the flooding from Irene), leaving my plan book at home, and not being able to access my emails where all of our schedules and locker numbers exist, I was thinking today shouldn't be the first day of school. It seemed too foreboding of bad luck and catastrophe. But then the students came in and breathed life into this empty building, and I was again reminded why I love the first day of school. My ten great things about the first day are:<br />
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1. A group of students stands outside my classroom door reading the thank you notes from the Holderness Town Library and the Joplin, Missouri Goodwill office in which our students' generosity from last spring is applauded.<br />
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2. A sixth grader looks down at his toes and back up the length of his body, and then says to me, "I just don't think I'm big enough to be in sixth grade."<br />
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3. Students arrive with feathers in their hair, pink stripes, darker colors, daring cuts...so bold and confident of their ability to be themselves.<br />
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4. When I ask my sixth graders how summer reading was--if it was too much--they yell in chorus, "No way!" One kid looks up at me and says, "I love the challenge. It was fun."<br />
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5. An eighth grader grabs me and says, "I can't wait to come to your class--and I have it last, just like last year!"<br />
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6. Our seventh and eighth graders walk in, sit down, and prove why looping is so beneficial. No introductions, no expectations, no testing boundaries. They know us. We know them. And we work--right from the moment they sit down.<br />
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7. I measure my advisees--some have them have grown 5 inches in the past year--but not only are they taller; their voices are deeper, their wits sharper, and their ability to express themselves clearer. It's amazing to watch this transformation that only occurs in the middle level grades.<br />
<br />
<br />
8. An observer and future teacher who follows the students today to get a picture of what the first day of school looks like in middle school, comes to our team at the end of the day and tells us each teacher is so very different, but all the important things are consistent. In a private conversation, she tells me she's surprised that not one of us went over a list of rules during the day. "But respect," she says. "Each of you have said, 'Just be respectful.' Is that your only main rule?" "If you stress respect," I tell her, "everything else falls in line." And as I looked around my wing, I realized how true that was.<br />
<br />
9. As I end my day with a four mile loop near the school, I pass a track kid running the loop in the other direction, with her brother in tow on a bike. We stop to talk, and the brother expresses concern about having to do poetry with me. But his sister says to him, "It's okay. Poetry with Mrs. Miller is fun. She makes it like a game...it's perfect for your brain." Thank you for that.<br />
<br />
10. 5 pm and the building is empty--everybody has their rooms clean and isn't yet stressed about how to make everything happen. There is a sense of contentment in the air. The sky always seems to be crystalline blue on the first day of school, and despite the utter exhaustion that drives us teacher to bed early on this day, we feel satsified. This day is always a reminder of why we teach.<br />
<br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-92079230931793130492011-08-23T19:59:00.002-04:002011-08-23T19:59:42.821-04:00August Newspaper Column<a href="http://www.fosters.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20110823/GJCOMMUNITY_01/708239999/-1/FOSNEWS">Beginning of School Year Full of Hope</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-25427515875533856392011-07-31T10:28:00.000-04:002011-07-31T10:28:11.722-04:00Is Re-Entry A Go?<div class="MsoNormal">Each time I have returned from a trip where I have congregated with the other state teachers of the year—a group filled with people who have unexpectedly become some of my dearest friends—I have used the term “re-entry.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The time spent with them is always filled with professional learning, passionate conversation, uncontrollable laughter, and adventure after adventure, much as how we wish life could be, but is often not due to responsibility and routine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So returning home where laundry, grading papers, and meals rule my schedule is always an interesting transition (my husband might use another adjective there), and “re-entry” does in fact nicely sum it all up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal">For the past week, I have been a space camper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have sat in classrooms and studied rocket propulsion systems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have met astronauts, authors (one of them was Homer Hickam, the author of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rocket Boys—</i>the book that inspired the movie <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">October Sky</i>), and engineers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have sat quietly and reflected on that day back in seventh grade when I watched the Challenger explode, rode the bus quietly home, and then sat on my front porch crying for our lost New Hampshire teacher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have built bottle rockets, engine rockets, and thermal protection systems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have played math games, foolishly running around and grabbing friends’ hands so that our numbers would add up to the correct sum, and rolling dice in fierce competition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have piloted the most inappropriately and absurdly funny shuttle mission with one friend by my side as Commander and another in my ear as Mission Control, both of whom continuously keep me laughing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have proudly worn my flight suit in a picture taken next to my team after we landed our shuttle successfully, but not before hitting some trees and swamp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have eaten camp food that sat in my stomach like a brick, have slept on a plastic lined dorm bed, and have sat in the “commons” until the wee hours of the morning talking and always, always laughing.</div><div class="MsoNormal">One thing different about this gathering was the addition of some international teachers of the year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I first heard other teachers would be joining our group, I felt uneasy—I wasn’t sure how “outsiders” would fit in, but my worries were immediately dispelled as I spent early mornings and late nights in my dorm with my Norwegian roommate, listened to my Australian flight director beat box in our Mission Control headphones, accepted a new Swiss Army knife from a tall, lanky Swiss man with a sharp sense of humor, and walked arm in arm with my new Dutch friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our group is already diverse, and instead of straining the dynamics, the addition of these 16 international teachers made us feel whole.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yesterday morning, after another breakfast of cheesy eggs, biscuits, and grits, we said our goodbyes with tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had become part of us.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">On our final shuttle mission as a team, my job was to oversee our astronauts as they undertook a mission of repairing and replacing heat tiles on the outside of the shuttle so that it did not burn up upon re-entry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The feeling of weightlessness was simulated for them by being suspended in an intricate system of straps and tethers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They reported back numbers to me and then I guided them in the repairs—of which they completed with shaving cream and a spatula.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without these repairs, the shuttle would not be able to sustain the immense heat that is experienced when re-entering the earth’s atmosphere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One chink in the tiles could mean a disastrous return. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’ve been thinking about that the past couple of days as I had to perform my own re-entry. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The transition of moving from an environment where you feel weightless—unbound by the gravitational forces of life’s responsibilities—into one where your feet must land on the solid ground of reality is always a difficult matter for me. But I think I have my heat shields in order—my family, my friends, my health. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They might sustain some damage, just as heat shields often do, and I might still experience some turbulence, but as we would say in mission-esque speak, “T+01:23:12:08, all systems are nominal, and re-entry is a go.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Roger that.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A few pictures from the week:</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-03Nh-qLsQFo/TjVcxIHnhbI/AAAAAAAABdE/vaiEYrqoXCU/s1600/Angie+%2526+Paul.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-03Nh-qLsQFo/TjVcxIHnhbI/AAAAAAAABdE/vaiEYrqoXCU/s320/Angie+%2526+Paul.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pilot Angie and Commandersen Paul, after our successful Discovery shuttle mission</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7sewe1XDPSA/TjVdLQp0xmI/AAAAAAAABdI/eBNPGSvpEIE/s1600/apollo+11+patch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7sewe1XDPSA/TjVdLQp0xmI/AAAAAAAABdI/eBNPGSvpEIE/s320/apollo+11+patch.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apollo 11 patch--the astronauts chose not to have their names on it, because they wanted it to represent mankind.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UXqdEQSzlwI/TjVdqQMZ6JI/AAAAAAAABdM/4fiUT3gAxFI/s1600/Apollo+16+mooncapsule.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UXqdEQSzlwI/TjVdqQMZ6JI/AAAAAAAABdM/4fiUT3gAxFI/s320/Apollo+16+mooncapsule.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Command module from Apollo 16 flight</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z9Lx-6KNLZ8/TjVeEdAeNVI/AAAAAAAABdQ/OEiY7JnbccQ/s1600/boarding+thebus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z9Lx-6KNLZ8/TjVeEdAeNVI/AAAAAAAABdQ/OEiY7JnbccQ/s320/boarding+thebus.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boarding the bus</td></tr>
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</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zpjv9PZVih8/TjVfXc9c8XI/AAAAAAAABdY/xxDx6QFDoKk/s1600/Egg+drop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zpjv9PZVih8/TjVfXc9c8XI/AAAAAAAABdY/xxDx6QFDoKk/s320/Egg+drop.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ryan (Minnesota), Jay (Washington State), Me, and Jeff (New York)--our egg drop team</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ets7Sz3onBc/TjVf1obxwTI/AAAAAAAABdc/NOitu4njOEo/s1600/jeff+and+matinga+bottle+rocket+construction.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ets7Sz3onBc/TjVf1obxwTI/AAAAAAAABdc/NOitu4njOEo/s320/jeff+and+matinga+bottle+rocket+construction.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matinga (Michigan) and Jeff (Pennsylvania) work on our bottle rocket </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bNDWwrU3c1U/TjVgU5Q86nI/AAAAAAAABdg/ViXLxuuDINI/s1600/Joe+breakfast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bNDWwrU3c1U/TjVgU5Q86nI/AAAAAAAABdg/ViXLxuuDINI/s320/Joe+breakfast.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joe (Delaware) enjoys another camp breakfast of sausage and grits.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Rfa-Z2A_Ew/TjVgvXIqxzI/AAAAAAAABdk/cItC53OrcKA/s1600/moon+rock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Rfa-Z2A_Ew/TjVgvXIqxzI/AAAAAAAABdk/cItC53OrcKA/s320/moon+rock.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A moon rock</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6loj12ETemY/TjVhIozl76I/AAAAAAAABdo/xhTKTaP6zzg/s1600/pathfinder.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6loj12ETemY/TjVhIozl76I/AAAAAAAABdo/xhTKTaP6zzg/s320/pathfinder.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Pathfinder</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I6VZmoul_jA/TjVh0a2m8lI/AAAAAAAABds/K4ugpiAvPz4/s1600/Pilot+Angie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I6VZmoul_jA/TjVh0a2m8lI/AAAAAAAABds/K4ugpiAvPz4/s320/Pilot+Angie.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me in the pilot's seat of Discovery</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hL0cYcH93VE/TjViRFpI9DI/AAAAAAAABdw/680fQPdFkug/s1600/rocket+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hL0cYcH93VE/TjViRFpI9DI/AAAAAAAABdw/680fQPdFkug/s320/rocket+pic.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my favorite views--the rockets silhouetting each other</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AeQ2aB74qPY/TjVijQYaBdI/AAAAAAAABd0/MfklKwnvvlE/s1600/thermal+protection.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AeQ2aB74qPY/TjVijQYaBdI/AAAAAAAABd0/MfklKwnvvlE/s320/thermal+protection.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John from Greece closely inspects our thermal protection unit</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="stageWrapper" style="border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-color: transparent; border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: transparent; border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; border-top-color: transparent; border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; bottom: 90px; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; max-height: 720px; min-height: 500px; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 10px; width: 960px;"><div class="stage" style="cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; height: 520px; line-height: 521px; max-height: 720px; min-height: 500px; position: relative; text-align: center; width: auto;"><div class="fbPhotosTheaterTags tagContainer" id="fbPhotoTheaterTags" style="cursor: pointer; height: 520px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 720px; z-index: 1;"><div class="tagsWrapper" style="display: inline-block; height: 480px; max-height: 100%; max-width: 100%; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 720px;"><div class="tagBox" id="tag:1677733166" style="height: 160px; left: 39.444488525390625%; line-height: normal; position: absolute; top: 15.833333015441895%; width: 160px;"><div class="borderTagBox" style="border-bottom-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-color: transparent; border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: transparent; border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; border-top-color: transparent; border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 160px; position: relative; width: 160px;"><div class="innerTagBox" style="border-bottom-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 4px; border-left-color: transparent; border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 4px; border-right-color: transparent; border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 4px; border-top-color: transparent; border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 4px; box-sizing: border-box; height: 158px; position: relative; width: 158px;"></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><div class="stageActions " id="fbPhotoTheaterStageActions" style="-webkit-user-select: none; border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-color: transparent; border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: transparent; border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; border-top-color: transparent; border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; bottom: 90px; color: #333333; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; max-height: 720px; min-height: 500px; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 10px; width: 960px;"><a class="next hover" href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=2271784920342&set=t.1677733166&type=1&theater#" style="background-image: url(https://s-static.ak.facebook.com/rsrc.php/v1/yf/r/_IKHHfAgFQe.png); background-position: -33px -147px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; height: 32px; left: auto; margin-top: -16px; opacity: 1; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; position: absolute; right: 5px; text-decoration: none; top: 50%; width: 32px; z-index: 2;" title="Next"></a><div class="fbPhotoTheaterButtons" id="fbPhotoTheaterButtons" style="-webkit-user-select: none; bottom: 38px; color: white; cursor: default; height: 0px; left: 14px; line-height: 28px; position: absolute; right: 14px; z-index: 2;"><span class="like">Like</span>Comment</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-21263019801677893452011-07-12T18:47:00.000-04:002011-07-12T18:47:58.751-04:00Summer Malaise<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ask anyone in my house lately:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have been grumpy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn't help that all my plans of hiking and running great distances without a ticking clock have been sidelined due to a painful double whammy of plantar fasciitis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I don’t think the foot pain and immobility can totally make up for the overwhelming sense of irritability I have been feeling the past couple of weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything gets under my skin, and I haven’t written here or for my newspaper article because I’m not one who can fake it well, and so I have been worried I would write something that I might later regret.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But this week I started teaching at writing camp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And this morning, sitting with six girls who have sanctioned off this time to be with me and my co-teacher, Heidi, because they <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">love</i> to write, we began to talk about books we are currently reading and started this fantastical conversation about what characters we would be if we could be anybody in literature (I waffled between Isabel Archer and Hermione Granger, but finally decided I have more in common with Hermione).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our conversation became lively and I felt myself relax into what is comfortable as we discussed settings, character attributes, and literary techniques used by authors.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Later on in the day, I saw a student of mine who enthusiastically told me about a powerful book she just read about September 11; we discussed the pros and cons of Kindles; and then she let me know that the business letter she wrote in class for me that accompanied a torn Northface jacket was just answered—with a BRAND NEW jacket enclosed!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her face was aglow and I felt happy and involved with the conversation—not irritated.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And then I realized—sometimes it’s right in front of our faces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we are deprived of what we love, we become cranky people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I love teaching and learning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three summers ago I was a liaison between a restaurant and a community organization as I taught teenagers business strategies. Two summers ago I worked with the Pakistani Institute at Plymouth State University.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last summer I worked with the Plymouth Writing Project at the University.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was actively and routinely engaged with educational conversations that made me think deep about what I do and why I do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This summer, so far, I have read a bit, taken small hikes as my feet heel, and done a lot of sitting and complaining silently in my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No wonder I’m irritable!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had, in fact, planned this summer to be low key and relaxing due to the hectic nature of the past school year, and while I have loved the time with my family, I think I went from one extreme to the next—this has been too much down time and too little educational involvement.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One of my goals for the summer was to write a book proposal, and the beginning stages of a first draft sits on my desktop taunting me every day as I check email.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When a friend asked me if I’d gotten any further on it and I told him about my summer malaise, he said, “Angie—it’s plantar fasciitis, not cancer.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Point taken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two weeks of writing camp stretch ahead of me and I plan to use every ounce of youthful energy these passionate writers share to remind myself of what I love to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Early morning writing sessions are planned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And someday soon, I will run again…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the meantime, it is summer, and it’s time to enjoy it!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-59815682833868641982011-07-02T12:23:00.003-04:002011-07-04T08:42:03.334-04:00Living Today for Evie<div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1c3u1FY9qik/ThG04qAPZvI/AAAAAAAABdA/OqgNYo3c2oI/s1600/DSC_0081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1c3u1FY9qik/ThG04qAPZvI/AAAAAAAABdA/OqgNYo3c2oI/s320/DSC_0081.JPG" width="214" /></a></div><br />
Two weeks ago all of the teachers and staff of Holderness Central School sat in the school library and said goodbye to Evie Spodnik. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sadly, like so many other positions across the state, our reading specialist position had been cut, and we were losing Evie. I sat across from her, so close I could reach out and touch her hand. So close I could see the specks of dark gray in her eyes. I looked into those eyes while our principal spoke eloquently about the job she had enthusiastically and happily done over the past few years at Holderness, before opening the floor to anybody else who would like to speak. Teacher after teacher began to talk to and about Evie—and we heard how efficient and effective she was as a reading teacher. We heard how kind she was. We listened to success stories about struggling readers who became proficient and confident. Tales were told about families she connected with and students who left the classroom for her care and help with beaming smiles on their faces—they relished their time with Ms. Spodnik. It was an outpouring of support, collegiality, and such positivity and appreciation that does not occur enough in our regular days. When I got home that night, I called a friend I teach with, and told her how touched I was by the luncheon. How wonderful it was to hear our colleagues laud Evie’s magnificence and celebrate her on such a sad day, when we had to say goodbye. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I didn’t work closely with Evie, since we spent our days in two separate wings of the building with two different student populations, but we bumped into one another frequently in the teachers’ room, where she would regale me with adventures of living in Tulum, Mexico and other places abroad. She always had an interesting story to tell about interesting people she had once met. We would stand next to one another by the photocopier and she would look over my materials and inquire about my practices and we would discuss reading philosophies. Once in a while, I would bump into her while eating and we would exchange recipes and food ideas. I never once remember her complaining or frowning—she always had a smile on her face and a kind word to offer, even when she was obviously crunched for time. I departed our conversations wishing I had more time to see her, more time to work closely with her, because I sensed we shared similar beliefs and values. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And then this terrible news arises about her murder on a beautiful July day and shocks our community. Wondering and worried about the children she worked closely with, the families she supported, and the primary grade teachers she collaborated with, I keep bringing myself back to two weeks ago when I sat with her at lunch.<br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I have a crazy theory that I don’t often share with others about wrinkles—I believe that as we get older, our wrinkles tell the stories of our lives. And they tell us if we have spent more time smiling or grimacing, laughing or pursing our lips out of stress. And as I sat across from Evie, looking into those speckled eyes, I was overcome by the laugh lines that surrounded her mouth and the creases that originated from the corners of her eyes, and as those beautiful, articulate, kind and loving words filled our school library, I recognized that this was a woman who had spent her entire life making sure happiness and joy were ruling emotions. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Two summers ago I lost one of my best friends, another much loved teacher, to a car accident. Overcome with grief, sobbing, I sat on a very similar warm, sunny summer day and wondered what she would want me to do today. And I knew: help others, be a good friend, run, and eat ice cream. So I did. And I consciously carry a piece of her with me daily. Sometimes when I am teaching, I know that I am doing it for her. And when I am out on a long run, I can feel her at my side. When I call a friend, I know that this was the kind of friend she was, and when I eat ice cream, I close my eyes and enjoy every last spoonful just as we did so many times sitting next to one another. I see her face everywhere, and it catches my breath. I still feel sadness, but then I wonder if these quick glimpses are her way of saying thank you for living the way I would want you to.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">When I think of Evie’s kind, kind eyes and face that was so quick to burst into a smile, I find myself with similar thoughts. How would Evie want us to live today? This woman, who walked the beaches of Mexico …who hiked out west and traveled abroad…this woman who sat patiently with small children while they struggled with reading, making them feel like they conquered the world when they overcame those troublesome Bs and Ds in words…how would she want us to live today? We learn from life, and in the face of death, need to remember to continue to do so, and I don’t think we would learn anger, resentment, or hostility from Evie’s life.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So today we should read a good book. We should walk outside and embrace the beauty of summer. We must be sure to burst out into laughter and smile, and be willing to take on an adventure. We need to slow down, and offer patience to a child. And we will do it all in honor of Evie Spodnik.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-41604526984955680362011-06-17T05:44:00.000-04:002011-06-17T05:44:22.024-04:00June Newspaper Article--Teachers Don't Often Toot Their Own Horns<a href="http://www.fosters.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20110614/GJCOMMUNITY_01/706149978/-1/RocNews0103&template=RochesterRegion">June newspaper article</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-24648990175076084782011-06-08T17:07:00.001-04:002011-06-08T17:34:35.934-04:00Practicing: A Poem for TodayPracticing <br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">In honor of my seventh graders </i><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">who so willingly took on my public speaking assignment.</i><br />
<br />
Liam stands astride a garbage bin like a Greek God<br />
and Nolan sits on a bench in the field. <br />
Aurora's hair catches the breeze alongside <br />
Sydney's spirit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maggie paces across the top of a bench, <br />
the endless pristine blue of sky backdropping her animated gestures,<br />
while Daniel perches on the swing set always looking so relaxed, so cool, so nonchalant.<br />
Mercedes leans on a shady picnic table, her face to the quiet heavens.<br />
A hot, early summer sun bakes our <br />
skin while Isaac sits in the dugout<br />
and Eli balances himself on the railing.<br />
Their words weave into the wind<br />
and across the distances between them.<br />
I know I should visit each of them <br />
spread over this campus<br />
and offer guidance, but <br />
<div style="text-indent: 0.5in;">their commitment their determination their enthusiasm </div>is palpable and<br />
stills me to stand alone.<br />
I cannot hear each word<br />
specifically, but I can nearly touch the<br />
cadence of their voices.<br />
<br />
I am again reminded of the power<br />
learners hold tight in their fists, unwilling to <br />
share it with those of us who<br />
want to control and deliberate over their every learning action. <br />
And while it is difficult to relinquish these ideas <br />
that we clutch as solid truths, I know that<br />
sometimes my students create learning right in front of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
Sometimes they create poetry.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-2688438732216167382011-05-24T06:52:00.003-04:002011-05-24T08:53:23.918-04:00Do Good With Your Students Today: A Call to Teachers<img height="254" src="http://www.washingtonpost.com/rf/image_606w/WashingtonPost/Content/Blogs/blogpost/Images/joplin1.JPG?uuid=5HqsNoUzEeCi7vkEdQ_QJA" width="400" /><br />
I don't know about yours, but my students do not watch the news. And therefore they are often oblivious to the events in our world that bring hardship and pain onto others. As adolescents they are naturally inclined to think about their own hardships--they forgot their gym shoes, they don't like what's for lunch, they missed the bus, they failed a test--but they don't spend much time thinking about what other people may struggle through.<br />
<br />
And this will be the case this morning. As thousands of people in Joplin, Missouri wander the streets in disbelief, looking for loved ones, standing in silent tears not sure where to begin the rebuilding of their lives, my students will complain about another rainy day.<br />
<br />
But please do not interpret their lack of interest as a lack of heart. Kids believe that if it is important, we will address it at school--they expect us to; they rely on us for this; they trust us to do so. And when we address tragedies like the one that took place in Joplin with our students, they think hard about their world and their values, and they thank us for taking the time to show them. And when we don't address these issues, we breed apathy.<br />
<br />
This morning I will be sitting with my students and looking at pictures. We will decide how we can help. Yes, it will take time out of our precious curriculum, but frankly, don't we have an unwritten curriculum for the heart? I hope in the long run my students will leave my classroom able to read analytically and write coherently. But more than anything, I hope to see them give and care endlessly.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7088353605169377216.post-72216073092215402682011-05-21T16:00:00.001-04:002011-05-22T08:16:18.450-04:00The Best PD Available: Sometimes It's Right At Our Fingertips<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A busy week has swept by me once again, full of school functions, school visits, speeches, and track meets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too much to write about and not enough time to write about it well, but in the little spare time I have had, my mind has been occupied to the point of explosion by exciting thoughts.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The one thing that has really struck me this week is the importance of teachers watching teachers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have had the pleasure of sitting in 5 of our 8 semifinalist classes and visiting their schools, and I have walked away from each observation with ideas for either my classroom or my school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have been thinking about the importance of mentoring programs; gotten a glimpse of integrated arts at work; watched kids come alive in a science classroom; seen how reading, writing, speaking, and supporting arguments can be so easily integrated into a social studies lesson; and witnessed technology playing a seamless role in classrooms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have pages of art ideas, book titles, and contact names in my notebook that I have furiously gathered on the side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have returned to school, eager to share with my peers.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">This makes me think about the role professional development plays in our schools.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Professional development is usually us sitting in a classroom or at a conference having a professional speak to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we then either put the information in a binder or privately implement a new practice into our classroom, returning to our schools where we too often teach behind closed doors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I have found that sitting in these classrooms and walking through these hallways really makes me reflect upon my own practices.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do I give students enough time to process before they answer?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are my objectives for a lesson made clear?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do my class sizes impact how I teach writing and how could I overcome that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is the culture we set in our school?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This week has been some of the most effective professional development I have received, because sitting in other teachers’ classrooms does not only give me new ideas, but it forces me to reflect upon my own beliefs and practices.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">What if within our districts our doors were more open and we spent more time visiting other classrooms?</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">I teach in a regional district of 8 schools. What if I was granted the time to sit in every other middle school classroom and they, mine?</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">What if we had the chance, as 8</span></span><sup style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">th</sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> grade teachers, to spend time in 9</span></span><sup style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">th</sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> grade classrooms? What if 9</span></span><sup style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">th</sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> grade teachers spent time in our 8</span></span><sup style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">th</sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> grade classrooms?</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">I can’t imagine anything more transformational than this.</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">We could suddenly share ideas and materials, offer support, help one another in nonthreatening ways.</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Our doors would be flung open and we would be a much more reflective staff. We would become teacher leaders, natural mentors, and collaborators. </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Teachers yearn this.</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri", "sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">Is there any reason why we can’t make it happen?</span> </span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0