The Usual Chaos

I'm still feeling it. Aching limbs. Dreamy, wistful staring. Frequent Twitter checking for inspiration. Frantic starting of too many books. Jotting of one more new classroom idea.  It's the NCTE hangover.  I was extremely fortunate enough to attend the National Council of Teachers of English conference in St. Louis this year. It was my third conference and first time to present. I was anxious and nervous, excited and, to be honest, a little bit sweaty, and it was the coolest experience!  The books! The authors! The electric energy of thousands of giddy English teachers! Those teachers are the ones who made presenting a dream, smiling up at me and nodding as I told my stories and shared my students' experiences.  But that wasn't the best thing that happened. The best thing was my friends. This year, I traveled with five colleagues, five amazingly intelligent, hilarious, witty women. We fit together nicely; two awaken before the roosters, two at a "normal&q

I'm in tears. (No surprise to many of you, I know.) "Calculus. Think about calculus" is running through my head. Ridiculous, yeah, but it's what I do when the giant bubble is bursting in my throat, barely holding the dam of emotions at bay. I guess that's what you expect from an English teacher - think about math, and it all goes away! Oops, my secret is out... But why the calculus? Student work. I'm battling the response to my students' words with fuzzy memories of derivatives because I am simply blown away by their work. Remember last week's post ? About my class I just wasn't sure I could reach? This week was a different week. It was also full of extremes. The week brought me to the edge of my tolerance, being stricter than I've been in eons in an effort to minimize disruptions and distractions. After all, I owe it to those in the group who are always on point, always on time, always on. The week saw a kind administrator and an influen

Last Sunday evening, after checking and rechecking my plans for the week, I opened a blog draft and stared at the stark white box. Despite the fact that I have a running list of blogging ideas, nothing happened. Nothing came to me. That urge to write and all its sparkle was missing. I left the tab open - yes, with the 42 other tabs in Chrome that are perpetually open on my Mac. By Wednesday, I closed it. It's Sunday again. I've checked and rechecked my plans, and again, that nagging I-should-blog-but-I'm-not-sure-what-about feeling has returned. Except this time, I do have something on my mind. I just don't know what to do about it yet. This fall, I've got a class that has stumped me. It's a small group of students of varying ages, all hoping to grow as readers and writers. They're quick and clever and witty, and I think I'm gonna like them! Yet, I do not know how to reach them. I talked all the books, and they said, "You sure make 'em s

It's a lazy summer day. Ian and Emily and I have "go to the public library" penciled in on our week's plan. Not that it means all that much; we never made it to "clean closets" yesterday. But we want to do this one. We do it each summer - our weekly jaunts to the library. Then, I get a request to participate in an interview on my campus, so our library time is cut a little short. No worries. We scramble through the shelves, searching for Kwame Alexander, Shannon Hale, and Gene Luen Yang. We find Real Friends  along with I Am Fartacus  and speedily check out, bolting toward my high school. The kids set up camp in my classroom, and I race-walk to the front office. Luckily, I'm a few minutes early, so I inhale and chat up the remaining summer staff folks. In the principal's secretary's office, I'm introduced to the new track and cross country coach, Chris, and immediately, I know I know him. He's a 2002 Hebron High School graduate - our fi

Last week, I was finally able to see the state bronze winning one act play,  Elizabeth Rex  performed by Hebron High School. Somehow, I'd missed all of their prior appearances, so I scrambled to get to this encore, speeding away from soccer practice, flying through fast food, and running from the parking lot to make it in time. The kids and I were on "theater time"; luckily, the cast was too, and we made it! Yes, I brought my kids. Ian is eleven and finishing fifth grade. Emily is eight and in second. I knew this production wasn't a musical or Minecraft, so I did have some concerns about bringing them, but I did it anyway. Part of my reasoning was admittedly selfish; I was desperate to see the show. The other part, though, stemmed from my own experience. As a middle schooler, I stowed away in the corners of our high school auditorium on a Saturday full of one acts while my father was the administrator on duty that day. I saw dramas and comedies and tragedies. I l

It's teacher interviewing season here at school, and interviews bring their own sparkle and glitter or, sometimes, not. Last week I visited with a couple of outstanding candidates, one that particular sticks out. Never before has our panel been asked a question like this: "In this last semester, what's one thing that's happened to you here at Hebron that's made you proud to work here?" Hmmm. Thought provoking for sure! Luckily, my answer was immediate. Just a day or two prior, I began a nine-week long activity with my sophomores. It began with the "What if...?" and "I wonder..." sentence stems. I introduced the topic of those ideas and musings that tumble around in our brains, often when we are on autopilot while mowing the lawn or brushing our teeth. Sometimes, these thoughts drift through when the lights are off and the covers pulled high and the body is finally still. I wonder how my relationship with my parents will change now tha

Midterms have come and gone, and state mandated testing has concluded. With nine weeks remaining, I asked my students to reflect on themselves as readers and writers so far, and as always, I received many interesting answers! Thus, in Mr. Fitz fashion, I'd like to use their thoughts late this Sunday night to kick off the final push to summer. "Before I was put in this class I would barely ever read, but the last 9 weeks I noticed I've read more than I ever have." "I have finally finished a book in many years after coming into this class. I have changed by suddenly wanting to read more books during my free time." "I've really taken an interest in the books I read. I even read more in my down time. I have learned that I can relate to a lot of my books and they can assist me in certain situations." Words like these make me ecstatic! My students are getting it, finding themselves in books and slowly making reading part of their lives, a ha

It was slow at first, a trickle of nervous educators moving into the small gym drop by drop, and then, the deluge. Our line was three or four or five deep, all waiting patiently with portfolios in hand and hopeful eyes. I harnessed all of my focus to engage each teacher, offering my full attention for a few fleeting moments, listening for that perfect fit. By noon, my feet aching, I flipped through the folder of English applicants, pleased with the possibility that awaits. Saturday was the Super Teacher Job Fair for my district, and this year, my campus hosted. Like my own house when company comes, our school sparkled for its early morning visitors. I had the honor of manning our campus table with my fellow department chairs in hopes of discovering the right teachers to join our ranks. Once the chaos begins, it is an onslaught of people, but it just may be one of my favorite things to do. I love watching people in general, and when I know those I'm watching are teachers, it'

It's Sunday evening, my usual writing time. It's a beautiful, rainy, graying day, and I'm snuggled in a comfy chair in a comfy sweater. The new wrinkle this day - I'm listening to Hamilton,  and it's causing all sorts of flashes in my mind. You see, I made the mistake of admitting to my Academic Decathlon team that I'd not listened to the soundtrack start to finish... so they fixed that problem in the many hours we were trapped in a giant vehicle together last weekend at the state meet. I see my self turning into the hotel parking lot one more time as "Take a Break" plays. I hear all five of my riders singing at the top of their voices as "My Shot" plays. I laugh again as I remember them rapping the cabinet battles - edgy words and all - while watching my face!  But most of all, I am again feeling the momma-like pride about all nine of those kids. It's sometimes hard to explain just how proud I am of them. Words just don't do it. An

"I can't stop reading this book! I've never liked a book this much before!"  - Lexie, English 2, first period. Beautiful, musical words to my English teacher ears! I grinned for hours after Lexie told me that last Friday, especially since the book she's referring to is my absolute favorite young adult book, The Sky is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson . I've read it three times. Only three! I guarantee I'll read it again too. There's just something about those words in the most amazing combinations that grab me every time! My co-teacher, Mr. Barb, tells me it's  because I am the main character, Lennie. Maybe. I've never had a sister. I played the flute rather than the clarinet. But in some ways, I guess I get her. And one day, when I grow up, I want to write like Nelson does. One day... So selling this book to my sophomore readers is rarely a problem. I gush over it every time I talk it to them; I just can't help it! And finding a reader

I remember her face. A sweet smile. Long, shiny blonde hair. Sparkly blue eyes. A look of determination situated between her biting of her lip and her gripping of her pen. She would succeed. And succeed she did. She spent her life fighting dyslexia and, though enjoying a good story and good discussion, always found English class to be an uphill battle of words in her mind and on her page. She worked and worked and worked. She focused. She revised. She conferenced. She improved. And finally, the day came when she received that essay, that elusive, difficult A. Tears streamed down her face and onto her pages. She took that essay home and hung it on the fridge - a first to finally happen in her eleventh year. I remember her face. A silly grin. Big, hopeful brown eyes. Always joking. Always hugging and laughing, yet under her humor brewed a touch of despair. She knew she could succeed, but she hadn't yet. And her attempts to achieve on state testing continually fell short. Just shy.

It's Sunday. The wind is whipping around my house, howling and moaning and stirring our chimes into a noisy frenzy. The fireplace is crackling, and Maggie the cat is sprawled luxuriously near by. A new to-do list explodes in my head as I think of all the things that must be accomplished quickly to get our newly qualified Academic Decathlon team to the state meet in a month. My fingers click furiously across keys and screens, tallying expenses and researching lodging. And then I pause. I find myself staring off into the quiet with a smirk as "Old Man River" winds through my mental jukebox again. I love these kids. This team. These teens. Friday and Saturday's regional meet was a roller coaster of emotions to say the least. I felt tense, anxious, and nervous. Excited, silly, and chaotic. Exhausted. Frustrated. Over the moon! After certain events, they weren't exceptionally confident in their performance. After certain score releases, we coaches weren't excep

the greatest smile the dimples the hair fidget the laugh He is Christian Dawson, a former student of my #FriendEng3 class. And he is gone. In the early hours of New Years Day, Christian celebrated with his friends at a party on the second floor. Below, a still unidentified stranger on the first floor opted to open fire, smashing bullets through walls and windows in front and above. One of those bullets found Christian. A kid with a smile more contagious that the flu. One speaker at his funeral said, "If you needed a smile, Christian always had one to share. If you already had one, Christian gave you one to give away." So true. And so beautifully put by another young person who shouldn't have been saying goodbye to his friend at only 19. It still breaks my heart to think about it. Sometimes, I don't understand the world. What a tragic, deep loss of an amazing spirit. Christian's funeral, while at times excruciatingly difficult, was a true celebrat

Along with my fellow humans, I find myself reflecting in these early, frigid days of January. This time around, reflecting is tougher than usual it seems. 2016, particularly the second half, wasn't so hot. As I ponder it, I feel as though I spent most of the fall semester apologizing for why I didn't have myself together, both at home and at work. Seems that I did a lot more "I'm so sorry" that usual. "I'm off my game!" I continued to tell my husband and my colleagues and my students.  I don't know why.  However, now that 2017 has arrived in a warm-then-chilly-and-soon-to-be-warm-again way (thanks, Texas weather), it's high time I adjust my attitude and revise my systems and get to work. At home, I accomplished some big projects. I finally opened some remaining boxes from our long-ago move, and I organized and decorated the front room of our house. It was summer, and I was relieved to get that overdue job completed. Since, though, I dro