This is my last weekend of the Summer of 2015.
Monday I report to work, this year as a 3rd grade teacher in the county that I live in.
As I look back on the last few months, I celebrate that I had time to:
- attend PD run by my new county for 7 days
- attend TCRWP Reading Institute (the best 5 days!!)
- join a Writing Group and meet with them most Mondays at 9am in July and August
- posted every Tuesday to the TwoWritingTeachers SOL, often the writing I was working on with the Writing Group
- read 4 books within a virtual book club, posting my writing about reading to a shared google doc and participating in 2 twitter chats about the process at #WabtR
- read Colleen Cruz' Unstoppable Writing Teacher book and met with a colleague to discuss how to use the ideas in this book with our next group of students
- took my mom on a road trip for a week to see cousins and my daughter (VA-Louisville-Chicago-Ohio-VA)
- many breakfast, lunch, and dinner get-togethers with family and friends, a relaxing time to reconnect and catch up
I celebrate summer as a teacher. It gave me nine weeks to rest and have time to think about my practice and time to work on my reading and writing while taking breaks to catch up with family and friends.
Saturday, August 22, 2015
Saturday, August 15, 2015
Celebrate - Construction Workers
Thank You posters hung on the construction fences. Cheers and clapping filled the air. Construction workers wearing hard hats formed a long line and my school's PTA served them lemonade and hot dogs as the noontime sun shone down brightly. These many workers are building us a brand new school building - Discovery Elementary School in Arlington county, VA.
We celebrated the hard work being done by the many workers yesterday by feeding them lunch as a sign of our appreciation. Their work is harder because the calendar today reads August 15th and in just 24 days, the calendar will read September 8th - First Day of School. It is going to be a beautiful school. It is designed to be a zero-net energy school by relying on solar panels, geo-thermal wells and a smart energy-efficient design. Today I celebrate these construction workers who are doing all they can, as fast as they can because they know the clock is ticking. They know that on September 8th, teachers and kids with their parents will be arriving to learn in this unique educational space.
Construction workers are a big part of my life now. On January 14, 2014 we had our house knocked down completely and hauled away. My husband is an architect and he designed a modern, energy efficient home to be built on our lot. And the construction workers began to build his design.
We are getting closer to moving into our newly built home. Today it looks like this from the front and from the back:
Today I also celebrate all involved in building my new house. So many construction workers - the ones that knocked down the original house, the ones that placed the concrete and steel in place, the ones that pieced together the SIP panels. Those who welded together the plumbing pipes, threaded the electrical wires through the walls and ceilings and added the ducts and radiant panels. And the ones that carefully measured and hung the siding and the cedar shingles and others that somehow lifted all the big windows into place.
But mostly I celebrate my architect husband who envisioned such a house, a house with light-filled spaces and energy efficient features. A house that is clearly worth waiting for!
And finally, I celebrate the patience required when one builds anything.
To see images of the school construction, go to http://apsva.us/Page/30592
To see more images of my house construction, go to www.whiteouthouse.tumblr.com
Check back after September 8th to see the school being used by my students and me
and in October (hopefully) to see images of us occupying our new white(out) house!
We celebrated the hard work being done by the many workers yesterday by feeding them lunch as a sign of our appreciation. Their work is harder because the calendar today reads August 15th and in just 24 days, the calendar will read September 8th - First Day of School. It is going to be a beautiful school. It is designed to be a zero-net energy school by relying on solar panels, geo-thermal wells and a smart energy-efficient design. Today I celebrate these construction workers who are doing all they can, as fast as they can because they know the clock is ticking. They know that on September 8th, teachers and kids with their parents will be arriving to learn in this unique educational space.
Construction workers are a big part of my life now. On January 14, 2014 we had our house knocked down completely and hauled away. My husband is an architect and he designed a modern, energy efficient home to be built on our lot. And the construction workers began to build his design.
Today I also celebrate all involved in building my new house. So many construction workers - the ones that knocked down the original house, the ones that placed the concrete and steel in place, the ones that pieced together the SIP panels. Those who welded together the plumbing pipes, threaded the electrical wires through the walls and ceilings and added the ducts and radiant panels. And the ones that carefully measured and hung the siding and the cedar shingles and others that somehow lifted all the big windows into place.
But mostly I celebrate my architect husband who envisioned such a house, a house with light-filled spaces and energy efficient features. A house that is clearly worth waiting for!
And finally, I celebrate the patience required when one builds anything.
To see images of the school construction, go to http://apsva.us/Page/30592
To see more images of my house construction, go to www.whiteouthouse.tumblr.com
Check back after September 8th to see the school being used by my students and me
and in October (hopefully) to see images of us occupying our new white(out) house!
Monday, August 10, 2015
What book from your childhood do you remember reading?
I took a road trip last week over seven days with my 80 year old mother. We drove 1,612 miles from VA to Louisville to Chicago to Loraine, Ohio and then back home to VA. We visited her cousins, her granddaughter (my daughter) and her friend since 3rd grade.
Along the way, I asked those we met, "What book from your childhood do you remember reading?"
Her cousins (ages 65-78) - I don't remember being read to ever. I don't remember my school having a library. But I always read to my grandkids.
Her granddaughter (my daughter, age 26) - As a young child, Dr. Seuss books, then Harry Potter. Also, the Alanna series by Tamora Piece.
Her 3rd grade friend - "I read Seventeenth Summer in my childhood. I was just sharing an idea from that book with my granddaughter who was sad to breakup with a boy. I told her that book taught me:
Afterwards, I did a little research on my mom's 3rd grade friend's favorite book while growing up. It was published in 1942, written by Maureen Daly when she herself was age 17 and it was published while she was in college. Wikipedia states: "Some critics claim that the modern period of young adult literature is often said to have begun with Seventeenth Summer. Daly is a teen writing for teens and her work influenced other writers to write specificially with the young adult audience in mind." And now our libraries often have a Young Adult section. I never thought about a time before such books existed but now I know the book that started this genre!
I was able to download this 1942 classic book to my kindle and read it this weekend. I thoroughly enjoyed meeting Angeline "Angie" Morrow the summer following her high school graduation and preceding leaving home for college, the summer she dates Jack Duluth.
One theme of the book was the growth of love between the main characters. I especially liked how Maureen Daly described the setting so beautifully throughout the book to masterfully match the amount of affection felt between Angie and Jack. The book was divided into three chapters - June, July and August. Here's a glimpse at her setting descriptions -
from the June chapter:
It was just after nine o'clock and I was in the garden picking small round radishes and pulling the new green onions for dinner at noon. I remember it was a warm day with a blue and white sky. The garden was still wet with last night's rain and the black earth was steaming in the sun, while between my toes the ground was soft and squishy - I had taken off my shoes and left them on the garden path so they wouldn't get caked with mud - and I remember thinking how much fun it would be to go barefoot all the time. The little tomato plants laid flat against the ground from last night's downfall and there were puddles like blue glass in the hollows. A breeze, soft with a damp, fishy smell, blew in from Lake Winnebago about three blocks away. I was so busy thinking about the weather, the warm sun, and the sleek little onions that I didn't even hear Jack come up the back sidewalk.
from the July chapter:
We took the longest way, the way that goes through the park and along the edge of the lake where the small boats moored at the shore dip in rhythm with the waves and the blue water is spangled with sunlight. And down the long thin highway toward the country, passing cars with their windows glinting with sun, to the curved gravel road with scum-covered water in its ditches, growing with tall heavy-headed cattails and slim purple iris. Farther on the air is honeyed with the clean, sweet smell of clover and the willow trees shake their varnished leaves till they glitter in the sunlight.
Jack drove with both hands tight on the wheel and I sat close beside him till we came to the place where the Virginia creeper stretches heavy on the fences and the trees beside the road grow thick and gnarled, reaching up muscled arms, and the fields, all wild with mustard plants, are yellow as sunshine. Jack slowed the car while we held our breath and listened to the whole air singing with the sound of insects and the wind in the grass and the warm steady hum that is summer.
from the August chapter:
But even if it was only August there were already signs of summer's dying everywhere. The poppies in the garden that had been tousled pink blossoms only a few weeks before were now full-blown and hung heavy with the busting seed pods, scattering the seed like black bugs to the earth. The corn leaves dried in the sunlight and rustled with wind, while the fine, silken hair that hung from the ears shriveled, tobacco-brown. And I knew by the tomatoes that summer was ending. The vines sprawled luxuriantly over the earth still, but the runt tomatoes ripened before they were full-grown, not trusting the sun to shine many weeks longer.
And a few photos from the road trip:
I recall reading The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E. L. Konigsburg as a favorite of my childhood. I also recall my mom (who now is called Nana) reading Encyclopedia Brown to my brother and me before bedtime!
Along the way, I asked those we met, "What book from your childhood do you remember reading?"
Her cousins (ages 65-78) - I don't remember being read to ever. I don't remember my school having a library. But I always read to my grandkids.
Her granddaughter (my daughter, age 26) - As a young child, Dr. Seuss books, then Harry Potter. Also, the Alanna series by Tamora Piece.
Her 3rd grade friend - "I read Seventeenth Summer in my childhood. I was just sharing an idea from that book with my granddaughter who was sad to breakup with a boy. I told her that book taught me:
"Men are like streetcars. If you miss one, another will be along in 5 minutes" !!
Afterwards, I did a little research on my mom's 3rd grade friend's favorite book while growing up. It was published in 1942, written by Maureen Daly when she herself was age 17 and it was published while she was in college. Wikipedia states: "Some critics claim that the modern period of young adult literature is often said to have begun with Seventeenth Summer. Daly is a teen writing for teens and her work influenced other writers to write specificially with the young adult audience in mind." And now our libraries often have a Young Adult section. I never thought about a time before such books existed but now I know the book that started this genre!
I was able to download this 1942 classic book to my kindle and read it this weekend. I thoroughly enjoyed meeting Angeline "Angie" Morrow the summer following her high school graduation and preceding leaving home for college, the summer she dates Jack Duluth.
One theme of the book was the growth of love between the main characters. I especially liked how Maureen Daly described the setting so beautifully throughout the book to masterfully match the amount of affection felt between Angie and Jack. The book was divided into three chapters - June, July and August. Here's a glimpse at her setting descriptions -
from the June chapter:
It was just after nine o'clock and I was in the garden picking small round radishes and pulling the new green onions for dinner at noon. I remember it was a warm day with a blue and white sky. The garden was still wet with last night's rain and the black earth was steaming in the sun, while between my toes the ground was soft and squishy - I had taken off my shoes and left them on the garden path so they wouldn't get caked with mud - and I remember thinking how much fun it would be to go barefoot all the time. The little tomato plants laid flat against the ground from last night's downfall and there were puddles like blue glass in the hollows. A breeze, soft with a damp, fishy smell, blew in from Lake Winnebago about three blocks away. I was so busy thinking about the weather, the warm sun, and the sleek little onions that I didn't even hear Jack come up the back sidewalk.
from the July chapter:
We took the longest way, the way that goes through the park and along the edge of the lake where the small boats moored at the shore dip in rhythm with the waves and the blue water is spangled with sunlight. And down the long thin highway toward the country, passing cars with their windows glinting with sun, to the curved gravel road with scum-covered water in its ditches, growing with tall heavy-headed cattails and slim purple iris. Farther on the air is honeyed with the clean, sweet smell of clover and the willow trees shake their varnished leaves till they glitter in the sunlight.
Jack drove with both hands tight on the wheel and I sat close beside him till we came to the place where the Virginia creeper stretches heavy on the fences and the trees beside the road grow thick and gnarled, reaching up muscled arms, and the fields, all wild with mustard plants, are yellow as sunshine. Jack slowed the car while we held our breath and listened to the whole air singing with the sound of insects and the wind in the grass and the warm steady hum that is summer.
from the August chapter:
But even if it was only August there were already signs of summer's dying everywhere. The poppies in the garden that had been tousled pink blossoms only a few weeks before were now full-blown and hung heavy with the busting seed pods, scattering the seed like black bugs to the earth. The corn leaves dried in the sunlight and rustled with wind, while the fine, silken hair that hung from the ears shriveled, tobacco-brown. And I knew by the tomatoes that summer was ending. The vines sprawled luxuriantly over the earth still, but the runt tomatoes ripened before they were full-grown, not trusting the sun to shine many weeks longer.
And a few photos from the road trip:
 |
| Nana on far right with her cousins - Jan, Alice and Ronnie (from left to right) |
 |
| Nana with Bridgit in Chicago |
 |
| Nana with Marilyn, her friend since 3rd grade |
I recall reading The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E. L. Konigsburg as a favorite of my childhood. I also recall my mom (who now is called Nana) reading Encyclopedia Brown to my brother and me before bedtime!
What book from your childhood do you remember reading?
Saturday, August 8, 2015
Celebrate - The Daily Show ends their conversation
Thursday night I watched Jon Stewart's last show.
Toward the end, Stephen Colbert said to Jon:
"We owe you because we learned from you. We learned from you, by example, how to have a show with intention, how to work with clarity, how to treat people with respect," Colbert said. "You are infuriatingly good at your job, and all of us who were lucky enough to work with you for 16 years are better at our jobs because we got to watch you do yours, and we are better people for having known you."
This is what I hope my students/parents would say about being in my classroom.
This is what I hope I can say to my co-workers at my school.
As teachers, many watch us do our jobs.
I hope they can be better for having known us.
If you are a fan and missed it, click here -
Last episode of The Daily Show
Toward the end, Stephen Colbert said to Jon:
"We owe you because we learned from you. We learned from you, by example, how to have a show with intention, how to work with clarity, how to treat people with respect," Colbert said. "You are infuriatingly good at your job, and all of us who were lucky enough to work with you for 16 years are better at our jobs because we got to watch you do yours, and we are better people for having known you."
This is what I hope my students/parents would say about being in my classroom.
This is what I hope I can say to my co-workers at my school.
As teachers, many watch us do our jobs.
I hope they can be better for having known us.
If you are a fan and missed it, click here -
Last episode of The Daily Show
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
Fish in a Tree - my writing about my reading
In Fish in a Tree by Lynda Mullaly Hunt, the main characters are trying to figure out how to act when they find themselves in situations where the skills they possess do not help them succeed and it feels futile. Ally, now a 6th grader who struggles with reading, bluntly tells her teacher, "No one can help me."
As a teacher reading this book, I connected more to the secondary characters who work with Ally and her classmates. Though all the teachers are depicted as flawed, they do strive to help the students as best as they can succeed in a place that instead makes them feel like a "fish in a tree". This metaphor is explained when Mr. Daniel's tells Ally, "Everyone is smart in different ways. But if you judge a fish on its ability to climb a tree, it will spend its whole life thinking that it is stupid."
At the beginning, Mrs. Hall and Principal Silver are introduced. Both are clearly too busy to see Ally and her struggles. But I'd argue that teachers are busy. They are real people with real lives, some having babies, some running a school. So in haste, they shout things like, "Ally, why would you do such a thing." I know I have been that teacher. I've blurted out a stupid statement to a little one in my charge, occasionally in a voice louder than necessary. As I ended chapter three with Mrs. Hall leaving to go on maternity leave, I thought to myself, "No wonder our schools struggle. They are run by Mrs. Hall/Principal Silver-types."
Then in walked Mr. Daniels and he epitomized what all teachers strive to be. A teacher who builds community, who gets to know the interests of his students. He really looks to notice students' strengths. He watches as students struggle. By watching Ally, he sees her shine when given an auditory task like "guess what's in the sealed box?" and orally defines the words lonely and alone. But struggles with all things written. Then after all that looking, he brilliantly introduces Ally to the game of chess to build on her nonverbal skills.
As the story continues, Mr. Daniels is knocked off the high horse I mounted him on. He draws the wrong conclusion about Albert's family and he isn't able to connect yet with Shay who is allowed to be a terror to others. And he stupidly leaves unclear directions for a substitute teacher who ends up humiliating Ally. Yet Hunt's portrayal of Mr. Daniels is spot on. All teachers are trying. Sometimes we get it right and can help our "school of fish". Other times, we are overwhelmed by all the "fish" that we can't see the forest for the trees.
The story ends a bit happily ever after for Ally. But the teacher in me is still wondering about mean-girl Shay and hungry Albert and the three bullies who used him as a punching bag. All the characters, the students and the teachers, will stay with me as I begin a new school year. This year I hope to show grit as it was explained in this book by allowing myself to fail and by pushing through even when it is hard.
As a teacher, I am given the gift of working with students whose minds work differently. After reading Fish in a Tree I now see that teaching is a whole lot like playing chess. I need to see the whole board. I need to know each piece. I need to strategically plan each move. And I must humbly remember that I'll win some and I'll lose some. But I will keep playing! I recommend that other teachers read this YA novel and I hope we all vow to play the best game I can for our students.
As a teacher reading this book, I connected more to the secondary characters who work with Ally and her classmates. Though all the teachers are depicted as flawed, they do strive to help the students as best as they can succeed in a place that instead makes them feel like a "fish in a tree". This metaphor is explained when Mr. Daniel's tells Ally, "Everyone is smart in different ways. But if you judge a fish on its ability to climb a tree, it will spend its whole life thinking that it is stupid."
At the beginning, Mrs. Hall and Principal Silver are introduced. Both are clearly too busy to see Ally and her struggles. But I'd argue that teachers are busy. They are real people with real lives, some having babies, some running a school. So in haste, they shout things like, "Ally, why would you do such a thing." I know I have been that teacher. I've blurted out a stupid statement to a little one in my charge, occasionally in a voice louder than necessary. As I ended chapter three with Mrs. Hall leaving to go on maternity leave, I thought to myself, "No wonder our schools struggle. They are run by Mrs. Hall/Principal Silver-types."
Then in walked Mr. Daniels and he epitomized what all teachers strive to be. A teacher who builds community, who gets to know the interests of his students. He really looks to notice students' strengths. He watches as students struggle. By watching Ally, he sees her shine when given an auditory task like "guess what's in the sealed box?" and orally defines the words lonely and alone. But struggles with all things written. Then after all that looking, he brilliantly introduces Ally to the game of chess to build on her nonverbal skills.
As the story continues, Mr. Daniels is knocked off the high horse I mounted him on. He draws the wrong conclusion about Albert's family and he isn't able to connect yet with Shay who is allowed to be a terror to others. And he stupidly leaves unclear directions for a substitute teacher who ends up humiliating Ally. Yet Hunt's portrayal of Mr. Daniels is spot on. All teachers are trying. Sometimes we get it right and can help our "school of fish". Other times, we are overwhelmed by all the "fish" that we can't see the forest for the trees.
The story ends a bit happily ever after for Ally. But the teacher in me is still wondering about mean-girl Shay and hungry Albert and the three bullies who used him as a punching bag. All the characters, the students and the teachers, will stay with me as I begin a new school year. This year I hope to show grit as it was explained in this book by allowing myself to fail and by pushing through even when it is hard.
As a teacher, I am given the gift of working with students whose minds work differently. After reading Fish in a Tree I now see that teaching is a whole lot like playing chess. I need to see the whole board. I need to know each piece. I need to strategically plan each move. And I must humbly remember that I'll win some and I'll lose some. But I will keep playing! I recommend that other teachers read this YA novel and I hope we all vow to play the best game I can for our students.
Saturday, July 25, 2015
Celebration - Virtual Book Clubs
I met Cathy in July at TCRWP Reading Institute and she shared how she blogged each Saturday as a celebration. I immediately liked the focus of this Saturday ritual. I have made it a habit during the school year to blog on Saturdays. But my focus was just a looking back at a week where I was noticing my life being back in the classroom as a classroom teacher after spending 10 years as a reading specialist. Yes, sometimes I was celebrating but that was just by chance. Now as I am relaxing in July, away from the classroom, I do think I will being to embrace posting to this Saturday Celebration Blog group.
Today I celebrate reading in a BOOK CLUB. While at TCRWP Reading Institute, my advanced sections had me read and share within a book club. That reflection can be found here:
WWI book club work
NF Book Club work
Once I returned home, I continued to communicate with the smart teacher participants I met at TC. We live all over the USA and we wanted to practice this work more during our summer time. So we formed a virtual book club. A book was picked - A Handful of Stars by Cynthia Lord and google docs were shared. Then I sat and read in VA. I thought about the chapters I read and jotted notes, looked things up, made notebook pages and shared all this thinking to a google doc shared with my virtual club. I then read their thoughts and made comments and they did the same. And because we are in the habit of having twitter chats with TCRWP, we had a twitter chat using the hashtag - #WabtR (writing about reading).
And because that first club book went so well, we decided to do it again.
Today I celebrate my book club friends, most I have NOT met or just met briefly during our intense week of learning in NY. They are learners who are working so hard at their reading this summer in order to teach better come the 2015-16 school year. Because I am reading and spying on myself as I read and then sharing my notes in the company of very smart and devoted teachers, I literally can feel myself growing as a reader!!
Thank you, book club friends!
Today I celebrate that I get to read books WITH you.
I think I will always remember the Summer of '15 as the summer I became a stronger reader and I owe this growth to being able to do the work in a club. I can't wait to guide my 3rd graders into partnerships and clubs once school starts in September.
And I can't wait to read and post my thoughts later today to my virtual book club google document.
Thank you TCWRP and thank you book club friends!
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
The Visitor
Ding dong.
Evelyn heard the sound and out of habit, she set down her cup of coffee on the kitchen table and walked to the front door. She could see a woman smiling and waving hello through the window panes along side the door. Evelyn mimicked the actions by waving her hand and smiling. Automatically, Evelyn pulled open the door and the woman said, "Hi, Evelyn. I'm so glad you are home. I brought pictures to show you from Anne's graduation."
Evelyn heard this woman call her by name and she was smiling. She must be my friend or maybe a friend of Michelle's, she thought. She tried to explain how Michelle was out and that Michael was downstairs. But the only words voiced were, "Michelle...Michelle...out" in a stuttered manner.
The smiling woman, holding a small photo album in her hand said, "That's okay. I came to show you my pictures from Anne's graduation from UVA" and she started walking toward the kitchen. Evelyn followed this lady who seemed to know her way around her home.
They sat next to each other on the kitchen island stools and the lady showed her photo after photo of people posing. One was wearing a black robe and the lady called her Anne. "Isn't Anne a happy UVA graduate!"
"Happy," Evelyn parroted.
Evelyn pulled the photo album closer to her face. She studied each photo a second time, trying to understand, trying to recognize the people. "UVA," she said aloud.
"Yep, just like your Michelle, my Anne's a UVA graduate!" The woman said proudly.
Just then the sound of the front door opening could be heard. "I'm back," a voice called. Into the kitchen walked Michelle, Evelyn's daughter.
"Sally, it's so good to see you."
"I came to show your mom the pictures from Anne's graduation."
"Oh, let me see," and Evelyn handed the photo album to her daughter.
Evelyn thought, "Sally...she must be a friend. I wish I could remember. How come everyone around me remembers and I can't? How come everyone around me can talk easily and I can't?"
Evelyn folded her hands tightly and looked from Michelle to the woman and smiled.
Evelyn heard the sound and out of habit, she set down her cup of coffee on the kitchen table and walked to the front door. She could see a woman smiling and waving hello through the window panes along side the door. Evelyn mimicked the actions by waving her hand and smiling. Automatically, Evelyn pulled open the door and the woman said, "Hi, Evelyn. I'm so glad you are home. I brought pictures to show you from Anne's graduation."
Evelyn heard this woman call her by name and she was smiling. She must be my friend or maybe a friend of Michelle's, she thought. She tried to explain how Michelle was out and that Michael was downstairs. But the only words voiced were, "Michelle...Michelle...out" in a stuttered manner.
The smiling woman, holding a small photo album in her hand said, "That's okay. I came to show you my pictures from Anne's graduation from UVA" and she started walking toward the kitchen. Evelyn followed this lady who seemed to know her way around her home.
They sat next to each other on the kitchen island stools and the lady showed her photo after photo of people posing. One was wearing a black robe and the lady called her Anne. "Isn't Anne a happy UVA graduate!"
"Happy," Evelyn parroted.
Evelyn pulled the photo album closer to her face. She studied each photo a second time, trying to understand, trying to recognize the people. "UVA," she said aloud.
"Yep, just like your Michelle, my Anne's a UVA graduate!" The woman said proudly.
Just then the sound of the front door opening could be heard. "I'm back," a voice called. Into the kitchen walked Michelle, Evelyn's daughter.
"Sally, it's so good to see you."
"I came to show your mom the pictures from Anne's graduation."
"Oh, let me see," and Evelyn handed the photo album to her daughter.
Evelyn thought, "Sally...she must be a friend. I wish I could remember. How come everyone around me remembers and I can't? How come everyone around me can talk easily and I can't?"
Evelyn folded her hands tightly and looked from Michelle to the woman and smiled.
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