The Usual Chaos

To say that it's been a while since I blogged is an understatement. Looking back at my blogging history, 2018 has been abysmal. Embarrassing. Shameful. Thus far, I've posted a big whole twice. Me, the teacher who preaches how being a writer makes me an improved writing coach. How sad. I've missed it. So much. I often find myself thinking, "Ooh, I could write about that!" ... and then not. Later, as I'm washed with guilt, another idea explodes in my mind, but I still don't write. On a hazy Sunday evening when I find five minutes of solitude, my fingers tingle at the idea of writing... and then I can't remember any of my ideas. What a tragedy. What frustration. Last school year was rough to say the least. I recall not feeling good about it when it all started, and I don't even know why. Near the beginning, I already struggled with relating to a particular group of students, and that simply continued throughout the spring semester. Paperwork p...

On Friday, I cried.  I cried when an about-to-graduate-and-go-be-amazing Ac Dec senior gave me a teacher appreciation card. I cried when my principal showered me with embarrassingly excessive praise. And I cried when asked by visiting administrators about my teaching style. Friday, four curriculum administrators from a neighboring district came to watch my class. They wanted to see a workshop style classroom, and so they were invited to mine. With them was my district curriculum supervisor, my inclusion teacher, and me. Seven adults. Maybe 24 kids. An unusual ratio. First, my students read their choice books, and I managed to confer with three different kiddos. Next, they prepared themselves and their thoughts for their fourth book club meeting using the ultimate academic tool, Post-it notes. Then, off we went. Book clubs met and discussed their questions and findings while recording their conversations for me to view and giggle at later (they are always hysterical and en...

It was late. My husband sat on the couch, finally eating his dinner after a long day at work. I chatted him up from the love seat, sharing the daily details of our kids and home. I told him about the toad my daughter found in the flower bed and how my son actually cleaned a bathroom. Then, the conversation shifted to the #MarchForOurLives, and he asked a serious question. "Do you really think those kids are doing it all? The writing and the planning and stuff?" "Yeah. I really think they are. I think the world is finally seeing teenagers the way we teachers see them every day. It's amazing, right?" It was an important question he asked, one on the minds of so many adults and possibly even other teens at this moment. Are the students from Parkland that eloquent? That energized? That persuasive? Yes. Yes, they are. I'm sure there are many adults assisting them with the logistical aspects of planning the grand scale events they've pulled off. I...