Author: Tiffany

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Class Meetings and Kanye

Each year room 202 has a defining moment.

It’s the instant the kiddos change from a rag-tag group of individuals who happen to have the same teacher to a class. The Schmidties.

Some years they’re united by a sense of accomplishment. Some years a tragedy forges a bond that can’t be broken by graduation. Some groups are lucky; they ease into a sense of cohesiveness just because they have similar temperaments and motivations.

This year’s moment happened today. And before it did, I’ll admit – I was nervous. My kiddos this year are eclectic. They’re quirky. They’re individuals who are proud of that individual status. And all of these things are to be valued and respected… but they weren’t engaging with each other. They were too busy noticing each other’s differences and setting themselves apart. Too busy isolating within their niche or established friends.

They weren’t rude to each other – they just didn’t seem to have a use for or need to acknowledge their classmates.

This couldn’t continue. I want a collective. I need a community. A grouping of isolates wasn’t going to create the type of learning environment in which any of them would thrive.

I knew I’d have to get creative. And I did.

Today’s class meeting centered on respecting others’ differences. With little introduction other than, “Some of you may have seen this before. I want you to watch this video clip and notice how you react to the people’s actions,” I played the video of Kanye West interrupting Taylor Swift’s acceptance speech at MTV’s Video Music Awards.

And I watched their faces as they became outraged – or crumpled. We watched the video a second time. This time we paused to discuss how Taylor felt at each stage.

1) Thrilled. Proud of herself for having accomplished her dream.
2) Excited that someone she respected had joined her on stage.
3) Defeated.

They had such insight into Taylor’s response: noting her change in posture from tall and animated to slumped and curled in.

One pipsqueak piped up, “No matter what, that award’s never going to be as special to her anymore. It’s ruined.”

Another said, “It’s like watching a balloon get popped.”

And they got my point. They shared times they’d been proud of an achievement and been disrespected

“I read this book that was really hard and someone said they read it in third grade.”
“I got an A on a hard test and someone called me a nerd.”
“My team won a tournament and someone teased me for not playing much.”

“I just don’t get why Kanye would be so rude,” was a common sentiment – and I didn’t have an answer for them.

“Why do we sometimes make fun of or keep away from others who are different from us?” I asked.

*crickets*

“I wish… I wish that Kanye had gone on stage and sang with Taylor Swift instead,” said one idealistic kidlet.

And my final point was set up perfectly. “I know. How awesome would that have been? Even though they have such different music styles, can you imagine what they could accomplish together?”

As the class nodded their agreement, I played the remix below:

(Thank you, Makaio )

And they danced. Together. And encouraged each other’s zany moves.

In the last 30 seconds before dismissal, I paused the music and told the group – acting as a group for the first time – “We have 28 different individuals in this room. We all have different talents. Can you imagine what we can accomplish if we’re willing to work together?”

Cheesy? Perhaps. Unifying? Definitely.

As they drifted off to safety jobs or waited for their buses to be called, they didn’t sit in their seats – they clumped up. Talking. Listening. Engaging.

Schmidties, I’m excited for Monday. It’s going to be a good year.

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Fearless but not ENDless

Technically the summer’s been over for a few weeks now; I just haven’t wanted to admit it. I ignored Labor Day. I overlooked the crisp apples at the local farmer’s market. I pressed past the aisles full of Halloween candy.

But on Saturday it was only in the 60’s. It’s hard to pretend it’s still summer while curled under a blanket wearing a fleece.

But how can it be over? (I say this despite having completed my 9th day of school).

LUCKY MIA‘s over too… at least this stage of it. And that’s a hard truth to accept. I still wake up with words on my fingertips and itch to insert self-indulgent chapters to the MS. I hear songs and add them to Mia’s soundtrack. I miss the story. I miss the characters. I spent more time with them than anyone else this summer.

And how can it be over? (I say this despite the kitchen dance party that commenced when I read The End for the final time).

I’ll give up summer. I’ll even accept that MIA doesn’t need an epilogue. But I’m not giving up my FEARLESS. The challenges I created and accepted this summer changed me. The never-back-down, what’s-the-worst-that-could-happen?, scared-is-not-an-acceptable-excuse attitude I adopted still doesn’t sit comfortably over my inclination to flee and retreat. But I don’t care. I owe myself more than that.

On Saturday night, as I shivered in my fleece and sipped spiced cider, I took a deep breath and erased MIA from the whiteboard walls of the NTB.


Staring at the blank walls was scary. How to fill them? What to fill them with? Would I love the new project as much as MIA? Where to even begin?

I studied them all night, finally falling asleep beneath walls that mocked me with their emptiness.

And I woke with new, nervous words on my fingertips. My first marker strokes were tentative, made of shaky letters and timid bullet points.

But it’s a whiteboard, mistake and changes wipe away with the swipe of a dusting cloth.

By mid-afternoon the wall looked like this.

And that fear and doubt? Replaced by hope and inspiration.

Who’s up for FEARLESS FALL?

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Fearless but not ENDless

Technically the summer’s been over for a few weeks now; I just haven’t wanted to admit it. I ignored Labor Day. I overlooked the crisp apples at the local farmer’s market. I pressed past the aisles full of Halloween candy.

But on Saturday it was only in the 60’s. It’s hard to pretend it’s still summer while curled under a blanket wearing a fleece.

But how can it be over? (I say this despite having completed my 9th day of school).

LUCKY MIA‘s over too… at least this stage of it. And that’s a hard truth to accept. I still wake up with words on my fingertips and itch to insert self-indulgent chapters to the MS. I hear songs and add them to Mia’s soundtrack. I miss the story. I miss the characters. I spent more time with them than anyone else this summer.

And how can it be over? (I say this despite the kitchen dance party that commenced when I read The End for the final time).

I’ll give up summer. I’ll even accept that MIA doesn’t need an epilogue. But I’m not giving up my FEARLESS. The challenges I created and accepted this summer changed me. The never-back-down, what’s-the-worst-that-could-happen?, scared-is-not-an-acceptable-excuse attitude I adopted still doesn’t sit comfortably over my inclination to flee and retreat. But I don’t care. I owe myself more than that.

On Saturday night, as I shivered in my fleece and sipped spiced cider, I took a deep breath and erased MIA from the whiteboard walls of the NTB.

Staring at the blank walls was scary. How to fill them? What to fill them with? Would I love the new project as much as MIA? Where to even begin?

I studied them all night, finally falling asleep beneath walls that mocked me with their emptiness.

And I woke with new, nervous words on my fingertips. My first marker strokes were tentative, made of shaky letters and timid bullet points.

But it’s a whiteboard, mistake and changes wipe away with the swipe of a dusting cloth.

By mid-afternoon the wall looked like this.

And that fear and doubt? Replaced by hope and inspiration.

Who’s up for FEARLESS FALL?

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Mac the Book…

There’s someone I’d like you to meet. I can thank my good buddies at tech support, faux-James and faux-Jordan, for her appearance in my life. If they hadn’t terrified me about another impending computer- pocalypse, I probably wouldn’t have spent the next week waking up in a cold sweat and running down two flights of stairs to check on Huey.

It was time to get a Mac.

So I’d like to introduce you to my birthday MacBook.*


I decided to use a name from my someday-daughters-list to name her, because St. Matt has issued a double-thumbs-down-veto on this one anyway.

So, meet Dulcinea.

St.Matt pronounces it: Dull-sin-neigh-ah
I say: Dull-sin-knee-ah
Both are correct.

We’ll call her Lucie for short.

And Lucie is fabulous! Besides being adorably decked out in a pink&green skin that I designed myself (I am far too proud about this), she WORKS!

Unlike Huey, Lucie will communicate with our wireless printer. I’ve been printing things Just Because. So… if you want some puggle pictures, let me know. Lucie also has a “SuperDrive.” On Huey it’s just a CD/DVD drive, but on Lucie, it’s SUPER.

Did I mention she comes with a remote control? I love remote controls! St.Matt’s first Mp3 player had one and I was ridiculously jealous. Never mind that he repeatedly pointed out mine was waterproof a much more practical feature, and that he didn’t need a remote because the Mp3 player was strapped to his arm. I still wanted one.

And Lucie has one! I don’t know what I’ll do with it, but still… I have one.

If I disappear into a cloud of Laptop-Love full of unicorns and rainbows, I know you’ll understand. (Yes, I’m quite sure that Lucie will be a new Distraction Fairy).

… Or maybe because I’m so infatuated with Lucie, my blog explode with posts…. Er, and they won’t all be about lame-o things like how I learned to print and my so-far-just-fun-to-look-at remote control.

Promise.

*Whenever I say MacBook, I want to sing Mack the Knife. Does this happen to everyone, or just me?

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8) Camping requires lots of STUFF

8) Camping has lots of STUFF you can buy.

I kinda like this part of camping. Okay, I really like this part of camping. Along with all new pink and green river outfits, and my waterproof notepads, there was lots of new STUFF.

Like, my flashlight. It has FOUR settings. One of them is the Spinning Disco Lights setting. That is TOO COOL. Yes, everyone else had official looking headlamps. But my flashlight blinked Green, Red, and Yellow. Theirs did NOT.

And there are tents and sleeping bags and cup holders that float. And waterproof bags and sparkly helmets. And campfires that run off of propane tanks. And, did you know that you can buy ice in 18 inch cubes? This reminded me so much of Little House on the Prairie and the blocks of ices they cut from frozen ponds.

There are mattress pads that come in all sorts of colors and waterproof MP3 players (which I totally should have had b/c I stupidly brought Speedy the iPod on the river and he stopped working after day 1… he magically recovered once we were back in PA).

I just wanted to go in a sporting goods store and buy all of the gadgets and widgets and electronic things that look like they fell out of Westerfeld’s UGLIES.

In fact, on our way home from the airport – before we’d eaten or showered or done anything prodcutive, I convinced St.Matt to detour to E.M.S. so I could just look at it all again.

He wouldn’t let me buy any! Not even when I argued that there may come a time when we need a throw bag in our backyard…

Return to Lessons From the River

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7) River trips have their own language.

7) The Language of the River.

I spent a good part of the trip having no idea what anyone was talking about. This glossary should be about 12 zillion words long but A) I procrastinated in writing it and forgot most of them B) I tend to tune out things I don’t understand, so…

Anyway, here is river-language, according to me.

Groover – A box that is pooped in. So I hear. Not that I would know. Ewwww!

High Side – A command that means throw yourself at whatever part of the raft Capt. D points too. I was glad we never had to actually use this command b/c I am convinced I would have overzealously thrown myself OUT of the boat and onto whatever obstacle we were trying to skirt.

Kubb – My new favorite beach game. It involves throwing things at other things and knocking them down. It also has a castle. I’m good at falling down. I like castles. I don’t throw very accurately, but no one seemed to mind.

PFD – Personal Flotation Device. You and I know this as a “life vest.” I called it a PDF by accident at least twice a day.

Master Blaster – It has a flame and makes the coffee. That’s all I needed to know.

Throw Bag – This is a bag that is, um, thrown when someone goes overboard. But before you throw it, you have to make sure that you hold on to one end…

Return to Lessons from the River

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5) If you haven’t used your underwater camera in a year – check it before going shutterbuggy

Doesn’t our underwater camera look cool?


I posed and hammed it up for all sorts of FEARLESS shots – I only learned to row the boat so that St. Matt could take photographic proof. I even took a picture of me completing one of Victoria’s dares. A photo of me cannonballing off of a moving raft into the river.

And I delayed writing this blog until I could go pick up the pictures and photo CD’s. You were all going to be so impressed…

But then the photo place had a machine malfunction and we couldn’t pick up the pictures ’til last night. So we bounced in (okay, I bounced and St. Matt walked) and I proudly handed the woman our slip and her face fell. “Oh, yeah. About your order… We were going to call you…”

They’re blank!

Two rolls of blank film.

72 frames!

How could that even happen? The camera flashed, blinked, advanced – shouldn’t there be images? So I have my safe-on-dry-land Petunia pics, but any photographic evidence that I did more than pose on the banks of a river will have to come from my river compatriots. Guys? *

*And did they! Thanks Katie and Joshi for letting taking pictures that are GORGEOUS and letting me borrow them.

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Tiara Day

I’ve been battling the End-of-the-Summer Plague (the doctor says it’s a respiratory infection, I still think I’m allergic to the start of school).

It makes me sound less like this:

photo link

And more like this:

photo link

Did you notice what both of those images have in common? Stellar head-wear. Which is convenient because this Friday is Tiara Day on Twitter. A day full of positivity and sparkles that many literary tweople celebrate by displaying a bejeweled avatar. For more details or to enter a Tiara Day contest, see the Sparkle Queen, Susan Adrian’s website.

‘Cuz, who couldn’t use a day of positivity, sparkles and tiaras? On the last Friday before school starts, I know I could.

If you’re looking for me on Twitter that day, I’ll look like this:

I hope Tiara Day brings you sparkles, good news and a surge of optimism and luck. I also hope it brings back my voice!

Start practicing your royal wave…

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Why I Cried in my Classroom Today

“Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.” – Dr. Seuss

I was talking to another teacher yesterday and he was telling me he’s ready to come back to school. “I hate the end of things – whether it’s the school year or the summer – I get impatient to start what’s next .”

I hate the end of things too, but for an entirely different reason. I hate endings.

  • I always hesitate before turning the last page of a truly great book – because I’m reluctant to say good-bye to the characters.

  • I’ve never seen the final episode for Full House, Wonder Years, Dawson’s Creek, or Gilmore Girls because if the screenwriters choose to NOT give the characters a happily ever after, I didn’t want to see it. I’d prefer the unknown to a resolution that would haunt me.

  • The end of the school year makes me cry – those kiddos will go on to great adventures, but I won’t be in their day-to-day lives to see their triumphs.
But there’s something particularly awful about the end of summer, because not only does it mark a new beginning, but it requires classroom set-up as well. I am not a visual-spatial person. The idea of setting up a single room so that it’s functional for 28 people is beyond my scope. So each year I stand in the chaos of desks and boxes, folders and textbooks and I cry. Every year.

But why? I’m not a crier and even though I never believe it in-that-moment, I know it will all get finished and organized – or at least shoved away somewhere.

So why tears?

It’s because of the NEW. I’m not crying for loose-leaf paper or post-it notes. Not even for that last desk that won’t fit anywhere or the spelling book that’s gone missing over the summer.

I’m crying because I’m worried about the NEW. My tears say: Hey New Kiddos I Don’t Know Yet, I want this classroom to be perfect for YOU and I hope you like it and I hope you like me.


I know by late September I’ll be able to tell any of these kiddos to find a spot for the index cards or a better way to store the extra copies of Time For Kids. They’ll be telling me where they want to sit and how to rearrange the desks.

… but that first day, when we don’t know each other yet, I want to offer them perfection.

I feel the same way about writing. I’ve been dreading and procrastinating about my next writing project. LUCKY MIA’S still on the walls of the NTB – even though I haven’t needed those notes in months. I just can’t bring myself to erase them yet.

What if I don’t love my next project as much as I love this book? What if the characters don’t resonate as loudly or keep me up at night with fierce wonderings? My outdated MIA-notes are a literary security blanket, they’re a reflection of my endings issues. I don’t want to let go.

But it’s FEARLESS Summer, so I will. I spent yesterday afternoon making notes on potential next projects. I’ve got five vying for my attention, clamoring to be noticed. I used my big teacher paper and markers – I’m not ready to commit one to the whiteboard walls yet – and gave each story the chance to say “Pick me!” And they ALL did.


So, baby steps. I’ve got them on paper… I’ve hung the paper on the wall in the NTB.

Someday soon I’ll be reaching for erasers – both in the classroom and the NTB – and in both instances I’ll learn, as I always do, that while new may be scary… it’s also so exhilarating too.

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Virus Scan Wars

You know the moving walkways at airports? And how if you walk against the motor, you make no progress? Welcome to my day.

It started when I tried to open a file. I just wanted to peek at yesterday’s revision. The file wouldn’t open.

So I tried another file I’d work on last night: a friend’s MS that kept me up way-too-late. It wouldn’t open.

I tried everything I could think of, but neither file would cooperate. All my other Word files were fine. Not the end of the world, but it was a waste of a night’s work and a good *nudge* to update my virus software.

Updated. Easy-peasy. Started a scan.

While I was waiting, I figured I’d open the latest version of LUCKY MIA and re-do the chapter numbering since I had two chapter 31’s and no chapter 3.

Only, when I opened the file, it didn’t look like my story. It was a dense mess of text.

All the formatting was gone: Single spaced. No indents. No italics. Nothing centered. Hard returns deleted. Comments gone.

A chaotic block of words.

*PANIC*
But not horrible, I figured I’d just open the file from the day before – I resave my MS each day as a separate file.

Clicked on LUCKY MIA 8-11: A chaotic block of words.

*Super-sized PANIC*
And thus began my adventures with online virus scan support, because when I looked in the scan log, it showed the software issuing ‘violation reports’ and ‘denying’ parts of Word*. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never found double-spacing so offensive that it should be banned. And while I may overuse italics, that’s hardly a reason to revoke my emphatic privileges.

Off to ‘tech chat’ I went. First I had Jordan, who based on his syntax and creative use of the English language, is probably not really named Jordan Carter.

Jordan was confident he could fix my problems. Until I followed his instructions and they didn’t.

Jordan: Please proceeds by restarting the computer.
Me: Will this fix the problem & restore my formats?
Jordan: I recommend that you restart the computer.
Me: But won’t that end our chat.
Jordan: The chat session will be terminated.
Me: But what if it’s not fixed?
Jordan: (who I imagine is now doing a gleeful dance that he will be rid of me). Please contact online support if you require any more assistance. Refer to chat #844671
Jordan: It was my pleasure to work with you. Have a nice day.

I restarted. It was a mistake. Upon attempting to log-in, Huey-the-laptop informed me that “Unauthorized Changes had been made to Windows.” He then told the changes would “Limit Windows Functionality” which was particularly scary since it had been less than functional before.

Forty minutes and an entire stress-eaten jar of macadamia nuts later, I was logged in. The problem was NOT fixed (darn you, Jordan!). I scurried off to online support again and was paired up with “James.”

“James” has even less understanding of the rules of English, and he also might have been cooking lunch or mowing his lawn or something, because he took for-ev-er to respond to my pleading requestions.

After reading the transcript of chat#844671, James told me to do the same thing Jordan suggested.
Me: I’ve already done that.
James: Re-read my directions. This is for the VirusScan Program not to scan the Microsoft program.
Me: I followed your directions. It takes different steps, but both you and Jordan instructed me to add Word.exe to my exceptions list. It’s there. I checked.
James: Is the problem fixed?
*I visualize a kid in an elevator here – you know the one that repeatedly presses the same button like that will make it travel faster*
Me: No.

James: I will send you instructions. You open up Wordpad or Notepad and copy them incase we get disconnected.
Me: Ready.
…. Long wait while James stirs his soup or clips his toe nails.
Me: All set! James?
James: *directions* including: Press the Firewalls and Security Options button on the left side of the screen.
Me: I don’t have that button.
James: Then do not press it.
Me: Um, done?
James: Please follow the directions to exit the program.
Me: Okay, I’ve exited the program.
James: I will send you direction to exit the program.
Me: It’s okay, I right clicked and exited. I don’t need directions.
James: *sends directions*
James: Let me know when you are ready to proceeds
Me: (wondering if he read my last messages and why James and Jordan both struggle with ‘proceed’ Are they really the same person? If I start a new chat, will I get John or Jacob or Joe?) All set. What next?
James: Does the problems still occur?
Me: *checks… chaotic block of text* YES.
James: The problem is not with our software. Contact Microsoft for assistance.

This is where I went into oh-no-no mode.

James: I recommend you uninstall the virus scan, system restore, reinstall.
Me: Will that fix the problem?
James: I will send you directions.

I uninstall.

Me: It says that I need to restart the system for the changes to take affect. Should I do this?
No answer.
Me: James? Also, last time I restarted, I had real problems logging back in. Will those be fixed?
Loooong pause. Perhaps James is walking his dogs. Maybe he could come walk the puggles, b/c they’re getting a little impatient with my crazed computer staring.
James: Proceeds to uninstall the virus scan.
Me: I did. It’s uninstalled. It says I need to restart.
James: Yes, restart.
Me: But what about the systems restore and reinstall?
James: Restart first. I will send you directions.
Me: So will this fix it?
James: Follow the directions.
Me: After I do the systems restore, it should be fixed, right? So then, when I reinstall, is it going to recreate the problem? Should I ‘exclude’ Word right away.
James: I do not recommend that.
Me: But last time, when I started a virus scan it messed up Word.
James: I recommend you try it first.
Me: And if it recreates the problem, I’d have to uninstall, restore the system, reinstall.
James: I recommend this.
Me: Is it worth the risk?
James: Yes.

Clearly, James is willing to play fast and loose with my files.

I save his directions. And restart…. you may have noticed that James never answered my question about whether or not I’d have problems logging-in. That was an artful dodge my tech-help friend. Crafty.

Log-in screen: “Unauthorized Changes have been Made to Windows”

Thus commenced a 45 minutes of a loop where I put in my password, it give me this message & restarted. Since I was out of macadamia nuts, I ate blueberries by the handful and paced. The puggles trailed me in my stress-induced game of follow the leader.

To switch things up, Huey began warning me that my version of Office may be counterfeit. No. It’s not. It’s the same version I had last night. The same version I’ve had for 2 years. Unless sneaky software bandits crept into my house between the hours of 3AM and 6AM, it’s authentic.

Finally! Success. And Word works too! Only, Huey tells me he has updates he needs to install and he wants me to restart…

40 more minutes of me pleading… really, it is authentic, I haven’t made unauthorized changes, I love you Huey, work with me… I’ll try not to abuse italics, I’ll use those special screen wipes you like… Sleep mode? You’ve got it!

Six and a half hours later, I’m back where I started: the same two files still don’t work. And my virus scan is now, not only out of date, but uninstalled.

I could reinstall it like James recommended… but then I’d have to restart.

*I do not want to identify the company for fear that they will send me ALL of their viruses, since surely they have plenty.