The Usual Chaos

In the last few years, I've had the opportunity to talk about teachers from my own educational experience who left their mark on me, and I seem to always goof up my answer. I focus so much on my favorite quirks of each teacher that I miss the sincere and lasting impact part. So, today, on this beautifully rainy Sunday morning, I hope to tell it better. Ms. Marquart at her final spring concert In sixth grade, I stepped gingerly into the CC Hardy Junior High band hall and became a band nerd. The gleaming silver flute with one too many keys spoke to me, and I was soon filling my evenings with the squeaks and squawks of a new instrument, as if hoards of people simultaneously pounced onto a flock of birds - and possibly a cat! I suspect my parents may have purchased ear plugs for this portion of my musical journey. But practice I did because Ms. Marquart expected it. And if I was not prepared, I got THE EYEBROW. Yes, you read correctly. THE EYEBROW. It was legendary, yet even th

It's Sunday, my typical blogging day, and today I find myself on my soap box. Not sure where that phrasing originated, but it's where I am at the moment. I've been pondering what to write for a couple of days now, and I've been struggling to recall an idea that sounded fabulous in my head yesterday. Yet, all that thinking and mental gymnastics lead me back to my proverbial box. The box of growth. It's a year of growth for me. I have two new preps at school, one I haven't taught since 1999 and another I've never taught. I have a student teacher, a first for me. Those two combined put me in a place of constant thinking and strategizing and creating. On many days, it hurts my head! But through the pain, I also know that I'm stretching myself as a teacher and person in ways I haven't before, and that's the kind of growth I like. It's the kind I think we should all experience more frequently. As teachers, we expect our students to grow con

My cousin Tina hugged me closely at our most recent family reunion back in July. She said, "I've been telling everyone I talk to, and I'll tell you also. It's the best advice I have. Take selfies. Take lots. I realize now how few photos I have of us together." I swallowed the expanding lump in my dry throat and squeezed her in return as tears brimmed. I thanked her repeatedly for the advice, and in my mind, I thought She's right. This is something I will do. Rusty Thompson '85 Tina's husband Rusty died last March . He was only 54, and a massive heart attack took him too soon. Rusty bled more maroon than any other Aggie I've ever met, and he was a funny guy. Hysterical. After a short stint   post-graduation  of working at a red and black college in the panhandle, Rusty was hired at Texas A&M and never left. Over time, he became a staple, a permanent part of Aggieland. He worked with thousands of students in Residence Life - including me wh

F-R-I-D-A-Y! It's my favorite day, oh my! It's Friday, hey hey, it's Friday! I click on overhead lights and sing the Friday song as I peel back blankets, sheets, and dreams. My kids groan and giggle and ultimately roll out of bed to don their Degan green; they know that Friday brings Eagle Shuffle , their *favorite* thing of all! At the same time, I select a Hebron shirt from my immense collection, pull on my comfy blue jeans, and think of my day. I smile. It's Friday, and it really is my favorite day of the week! It's not just the promise of an upcoming weekend of home and laughs. Not just the temptation of sleeping in or the exhilaration of watching my Aggies play.  It's Fishbowl Friday. My favorite. In English 2 (and prior in English 3), students gather on Fridays to lead the day. In room 1600, they circle up and run the conversation Socratic seminar style. Half talk and half watch. We laugh. We question. We analyze. We mourn. We hope. We talk. And