education reform

Tavis Smiley, in his show with Geoffrey Canada, CEO of Harlem’s Children Zone, and Davis Guggenheim, director of Waiting for Superman:

Some of this Geoffrey, you came out of the classroom, before you were running a school you were a teacher. Some of this to me, I think words have meaning, I think language is important. I want to be frank about this, this term “Race to the Top” which is this administration’s approach to this. This term “Race to the Top” disturbs me. One, education, pardon my English, ain’t a race. It’s not a race; it’s a guarantee. Every kid in this country ought to have access to an equal high quality education. The very notion of a race to the top means by definition that somebody’s going to win, somebody’s going to lose, if it’s a race. I don’t understand how we’re going about solving the problem starting with the language and the process itself.

I really enjoy the fact that Tavis Smiley, (1) let’s his feelings be known, and (2) challenges his guests. It makes me happy that these things happen, but truthfully, in these situations, as a good host, he offers his guests the opportunity to rebut his statement and make their argument stronger.

I haven’t seen Waiting for Superman. Much, if not all, that I’ve heard from the really good teachers that I am connected to, the classroom teachers who spend much more than 8 hours a day dedicated to their craft, their students, their community, is negative. I don’t recall a single one talking about the positive movement that could come to education with this movie. I’ve heard positive publicity from Oprah and NBC’s Education Nation, both of whom are absolutely massive movers of misinformation and superficial thinking.

I also haven’t seen Race to Nowhere, a movie also about education reform. I haven’t heard much about it either, from the classroom teachers or from the media hype machine. I may not see either, simply because I fear being emotionally worked up without being able to respond intellectually. I’m a whole lot more likely to react out of irrationality and anger rather than respond after deep thought. (That’s something that I’m actually working on here.)

So how do I respond to this situation? I don’t know. Mostly what I notice is that the teachers in my school, the smallest building in our district, far on the outskirts of the city, don’t seem to be aware of some of these issues. Truthfully, I need to be more aware of the local issues that are present within our district and city, while I also want the teachers in my small school to be aware of these larger issues that seem to be setting fire to large cities that eventually may affect our small school.

On a barely related note, these are the things I’ve learned about Davis Guggenheim from his Wikipedia entry, in no particular order: he's married to Elisabeth Shue, who's been "hot" since Karate Kid; he was born in St. Louis, MO; he directed and produced An Inconvenient Truth, also a fairly provocative documentary; "he directed Barack Obama's biographical film, which aired during the Democratic National Convention;" he directed It Might Get Loud, a really cool documentary about the electric guitar, told from Jack White, the Edge, and Jimmy Page, and given to me by my brother; and he was an executive producer of the movie Training Day, a movie which scared me in its fierceness and brutality. 

newspaper

I'm trying to get things going with the school newspaper. I really don't have a plan other than creating a space and a time for the kids to write about what they want, create something that they want, and to put it out for the school. There are some things that do "need" to happen. That need extends from my perception of what the other teachers expect. Certainly there are comparisons all the time, statements regarding how things are and how things were, and judgments made about each. I'm competitive by nature, and I don't want to hear something negative about my work. I want to do a good job. I would gladly accept someone pointing out faults or shortcomings of the newspaper, while also telling me what they think could/should go in there; I wouldn't accept the murmurings and whispers about the faults and shortcomings. More than anything, I want to listen to the students and what they want in the newspaper. I want to get them writing, creating, editing. That was the most fun time today, turning them loose on the computers with "assignments" that they chose or they created, and seeing them go to work. They encouraged one another; they challenged one another. It was a really fun experience. I'll be having that time and space available every Wednesday--whoever wants to come is welcome. I think that'll create something really, really cool. And I believe that will make my job better, meaning more enjoyable, and I think it will make PV a better place. I've got to believe it, otherwise I'm not sure I have a reason for doing it.

25 words

Sara jumped right in to the 25 word story hashtag on twitter, and I am totally jealous of her writing ability. I wish I was that creative and that crafty with words. I've been thinking and composing for some time with a 25 word story in mind, but I'm not courageous enough to post to twitter. So here, tonight, I'm cranking through some stories. Maybe I'll grow more confident as I continue to try, and actually publish them.

Story: It wasn’t just sillybandz arrayed across her desk, it was also her hope for a future: an airplane, the sun, seashells, high heals, a sailboat.

Memoir: One image from my evening: sitting cross legged in my living room, munching on corn-on-the-cob, watching soccer, and monitoring the tweet stream. 

Story: It wasn’t the sourness of the pickle that caused her face to screw-up. He did really just say, “I think I shat my pants.”

Memoir: Size fourteens are strewn about in every room of the house, testimony to tired feet and lazy legs. Exhaustion means I can fall asleep anywhere.

Story: She couldn’t understand the words he chose. She knew it was coming. She actually thought she felt the same. But his words left her unsettled.

Story: Her back was turned and no one else would tell. They quickly exchanged papers. This time, he got the A and she got the D.

Story: He wouldn’t call it greed, poor judgment, or dishonesty. He would call it bad luck or blame it on someone else. He would never learn.

I think I'm going to try this out with my students. I've done $2 summaries, where every word "cost" 10 cents, so they basically have 20 words to write a summary of the learning for the day. But a 25 word story is challenging because they've got to be creative with the language, not just summarize. I guess I think both activities are good for being precise in the use of language--summarizing is an important skill, but so is telling a story.

it's been a while

It's been a while since I've stayed up until 1:00 am and enjoyed it, but today is different. The work has been worthwhile, the reading meaningful, and the conversations rich.

Thanks for that, friends and neighbors. Without you, the work would be scattered, the readings uneventful, and there would be no conversation. So, again, I say, thank you.  

what a long week

It’s been a full week for me, and it’s time to do some intentional reflection. I need to learn from this, and I need to document it so that I don’t forget.

1. Went back to the doctor on Monday. I don’t have a bug, or an infection. I don’t have celiac disease. So they’re going with severe anxiety disorder. We’re going to try Paxil (an SSRI, and the fifth or sixth medication since I’ve started this ordeal) and a behavioral therapist (read: psychiatrist). This is why they say doctors practice medicine.

Honestly, I was scared of this. I guess I was scared of anything though, really. If I’m going to admit my circumstance, I’m going to admit my reaction to it. I want an easy answer. I want them to tell me nothing is wrong with me, and that I can go home with no worries. I don’t want to deal with this stuff—fear about how things will go, unsure of my responsibilities or abilities, and the accompanying physical manifestations of those anxieties. I want to feel young, to be confident, to not have any worries. I want to be a good teacher, to be a good teacher-leader, to be a good steward of the things I have. I want to be healthy. OK—that’s enough of that.

2. Wednesday we had a follow-up to our OWP Teacher Inquiry Institute. Keri and I met on Tuesday to go over the agenda and plans. We were rather unfocused, mostly because I’m weighed down by other things on my mind. We’re two extraordinarily busy people. Here I’ll speak for myself: I’m not great at being very disciplined in how I use my time. I want to do this, and I want to do that. But what I get done is only a fraction of my original intent. This was the case on Tuesday night.

Wednesday night was a bit hectic because of school and computer issues and things never quite going as planned. (See previous paragraph.) But we had a great dinner from Pickleman’s, which was delivered and made things oh-so-much-easier on Keri and I (and hopefully the participants) and then we dove right in to our inquiry. It was then that I was reminded of why I am a part of the NWP and work so hard for the OWP. It’s all about the people.

Gathered together were 15 teachers hell-bent on figuring out ways to do their job better, ways to serve their students and their communities better. Some drove more than 2 hours to be there. These teachers ask questions of their practice, ask questions of themselves, seek out relevant research regarding their questions, and collaborate with other teachers in order to look with new eyes and to be challenged in their thinking. It’s a huge pleasure and privilege to work alongside them.

We’ll be meeting together in October, have an online meeting in November, and then meet in December to have preliminary reports to share. I’m really looking forward to being a thinking partner with these teachers more throughout the semester. I’m really looking forward to reading and hearing their findings in December. And I’m hoping we can compile those findings and share them online, even if simply through Google Docs.

My big epiphany for the evening was in participating in the protocol with Casey and Keri. Keri and I are the facilitators, and we aren’t necessarily doing an inquiry project, although we are. Mine consisted of my autoethnography, which I wrote during the summer. That is finished now, so honestly I feel like I’m off the hook and free to simply be a thinking partner and witness to the amazing learning that is happening. Keri is leading the research portion of the LSRI VI grant that the OWP received for the professional development partnership we now have with SPS. Anway, Casey and Keri basically cornered me and told me to go through the protocol with them, even though I had nothing on my mind. I begrudgingly acquiesced to their requests, and fumbled through my perceived problem—immature male students with little-to-no self-awareness or regard-for-others as human beings (in a social setting) which, in my mind, carries over into their writing, leading them to have little-to-no concept of the importance of audience and purpose when writing. It was ugly (my protocol attempt), and it reinforced an idea that I think I already knew.

I’m a thinker, but not an “out loud thinker.” I don’t process with others until I’ve spent a lot of time with an issue. I think Keri has a minor understanding of this about me, but I think many of my OWP colleagues don’t quite understand that all that talking that they may do to work through or into an issue isn’t something that I do. If I’m talking, I’ve probably spent hours thinking about something in my head. I don’t want this to be perceived as good or better, or right or wrong. It’s just how I am. My father is the same way. He often talks to himself, but not audibly, as he considers scenarios and situations and possibilities. We catch him deep in thought, mouth jabbering away, ignorant of our presence, processing something. I’m very much the same way, but more often than not I talk out loud to myself. It’s an advantage of living alone.

Wednesday night, having to talk my thoughts out, without having them fully formed, was really uncomfortable for me. I could have written them and shared them with Casey and Keri and felt much more comfortable. But that wasn’t an option. I guess that’s just an indicator of my personal preference, my desire for independence and isolation. Maybe not.

3. Thursday night was Open House at school. Usually this is something that would make me nervous—sweaty palms, dry mouth, rushing around to get crap put up on the walls and make the classroom look really nice. Not this time. I had some pictures I printed with the classroom laser printer (cheap looking, black and white) with some captions I wrote in red and blue Sharpie. I logged on to a few computers and pulled up the class website and the class wiki, and I put out some textbooks (which we don’t use) and Haroun and the Sea of Stories (which I’m reading to the class). That’s it.

Somehow I wasn’t worked up about this. I wasn’t worried. Maybe the Paxil is working already, but I don’t think so. It was great to meet the parents, to put faces with names and to make connections in meaningful ways. It was neat to see the students showing off their classrooms to the parents. It was fun to see the parents look in wonder at all the computers.

Several specific points stand out to me from the night. The first is testimony to what we do as teachers in the 8^th grade at PV. Several former students came back to visit the 8^th grade teachers, and all of them made comments about going to school without computers and how odd it was at first. They talked about having to go to a computer lab, and how the concept seemed so weird to them. They even shared how the teacher was giving them instructions on how to do certain things on the computer, and a girl asked, “Why are you going over this, doesn’t everyone know it already?” without realizing that many of the students in the high school did not go to PV and did not have the luxury of eMINTS computers and experience on the computers. This made me really, really, really happy (for my students). It validated the work that we do on a daily basis, and the work we do in the summer to make sure the tools we do have are functioning well. I think this is also testimony to the fact that exposure to and experience with technology (computers, digital cameras, recorders, etc.) and in a constructivist/project based learning environment gives our students a huge advantage over those without the same exposure and experiences. That should be rather obvious though, I think. 

The second is a sad fact. So often I met parents with different last names, or grandparents caring for children. It makes me really sad for the kids. It makes me wonder what life would be like it these kids had two parents in the home who both valued education and both spent time investing in their kids’ lives. It made me think that teachers and administrators and politicians wouldn’t have to be arguing about education reform, because a lot of that stuff would take care of itself.

4. Today was the Summer Institute Renewal. Keri talked quite often about this being a beginning, rather than an ending. This seemed like a really great thought, because as the OWP grows, we need more and more teachers to take leadership roles. How we accomplish this is my big question.

I didn’t really have anything to do with the planning of the event, so it was refreshing to walk in and simply take instructions about what to do and when to do it. I must admit though that I was a bit worried about how things were going to turn out, even though I do have faith and trust in my fellow teachers, and believe that there are few things better than getting motivated teachers together in the same room. When that happens, good things will happen, even without plans. But plans we did have—writing, sharing, more writing, more sharing.

It was an amazing and wonderful day. Teachers came together to show off what they had done in their classrooms early on in the year. Some brought student work. Some shared stories. We listened. We laughed. We asked one another challenging questions and shared our own learning from previous/similar experiences.

I was struck on several occasions by the potential for wonderfully instructive vignettes to be written by these teachers. Sara Allen has made huge strides with students as they free write in her 5^th grade class. Art Daniels is using journaling in response to deep questions in his Biology class. Tanya Hannaford is experiencing a change since she’s begun to write alongside her students, rather than offering her own model text written ahead of time. Sarah Keeth has been validated as a teacher through the collaboration of the OWP, and is seeking out a book study group and/or writing group. Betsy McQueen is leading elementary teachers in their PLC, and through their experiences, the classrooms in her building are changing.

I finished the day so happy. The Summer Institute could have been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life. Really. But now I look back and see how teachers have been changed, and learning within the classroom has been changed because writing has been introduced and used and taught in so many different, promising ways. I’m energized because of this. Truthfully, more than anything else, I want to continue serving these teachers. I want to continue to offer space and time for collaboration. I want to get the good word out to their principals and administrators about what they’re doing and how amazing it is. I want to continue to be a part of something that may not be huge, but is making a huge difference in the classrooms across southwest Missouri.

I know that’s several poorly written sentences all in a row, but it’s my thinking. Thanks for listening, if you’ve made it through all that. 

Tucker the Trucker

I started class today with the "Tucker the Trucker" sentence combining activity. Here's the scenario:

1 - write the following four sentences on the board: Tucker is a trucker. He is from Winnemucca. He is stuck in the muck. He is out of luck.  

2 - have someone combine the sentences as the model sentence (in this case it was my Assistant Principal, who's in her first year at the school)

3 - challenge the students to combine the sentences themselves; if anyone gets it exactly right they win a prize (in this case $5)

I did this with four separate classes, approximately 120 students total, and only one kid came close. And that's because he cheated with a student from an earlier class. The cool thing about it all: when I approached the AP about doing this she was in a huge hurry, which is how she basically walks the halls everyday. Well, she started to write a sentence, then scratched it out. Then she wrote a sentence and didn't like it. So she wrote another sentence. After rereading and thinking, she decided on the second sentence. Pretty awesome. She was thinking, revising, editing, and doing so in a way that it was transparent because the students got to see it all. It provided a great example of what writers do.

It is a fun challenge. It got the kids thinking. I'll be trying things like this just about every Tuesday, before we go to the Library. And now, after a good day like today, I've got to say that Tuesdays could be one of my favorite days as a teacher. It's days when I chunk the material down: 8 minutes max for intro activity--something quick like "Tucker the Trucker" or a similar sentence level writing activity; to the Library for information about new books, new reads, and for the students to check out books and read; discussion time about your books interspersed; return to class for a closer--could be anything, today it was updates on writing contests and outside publishing opportunities, and games of Free Rice.

I've got to say a huge thank you to Julie Sheerman for introducing me to the "Tucker the Trucker" activity, and to Julie Mahaffey who is our school librarian and works amazingly hard to make sure that the library offers lots of different books for our kids. They're both awesome people, and in a time when I'm beginning to feel isolated in my classroom, I know that I am nothing without the awesome support around me.

PS - I'm trying to get into reading more of the yalit stuff, so I'm reading Meg Cabot's Pants on Fire, and it's pretty much hilarious simply for the front and back cover picture, but it creates opportunities for discussion with the kids, even more so than when they see me reading my own books (I'm currently still trying to finish Zeitoun and How Soccer Explain the World).

it was a good day

Well, I'm extremely tired, so as has become my custom, I'm going to keep this short.

1. School went well. Lots of different short activities. Talked symbolism in Haroun and the Sea of Stories; heard from the kids about their own ideas. My favorite interaction: Student 1: "Are turtle doves a symbol of anything, Mr. Maerke" Me: "I don't know. Why don't you use the computer to see if you can find an answer." Student 1: "Sweet." Students 2, 3, 4: "Hey, can I look up something too?" Me: "Is it about symbolism?" Students 2 and 4: "Yes." Student 3: "Uh, nope." Me: "Yes and yes. What are you looking up?" "Student 2: "What time the Chiefs' game starts tonite." Me: "Nope." Student 1: "Hey, 2 turtle doves from the 'Twelve Days of Christmas' song represents the Old and the New Testaments from the Bible. I found a site that tells about everything. The five golden rings isn't about rings at all, it's about the first five books of the Bible." Student 12: "What's with the Bible?"

2. Exploratory even went well today. We read. We watched a video of Irving Roth's testimony. We even watched Channel One. They're getting the hang of things. Good thing, because it's the fourth week of school. Tomorrow we respond to the video on the wiki. I'm excited.

3. After school I did my best to get organized. I'm not great at that, but I tried.

4. I met with Lisa and Sarah about their experiences in Berkeley with the NWP MAKE initiative. They had some really cool stories to tell, and I loved hearing them. I'm hoping that experience really was a positive one for them, and helps them find a niche. We talked quite a bit about a mini-grant for the site. I don't even know if a mini-grant is necessary, but it sounds like they're going to spend some time working one up. When I heard what they were doing I was really excited. It sounds amazing and wonderful and I'm totally jealous of their experiences.

5. At the meeting with Lisa and Sarah, at Panera Bread on N. Kansas Expressway, I saw a former student and his mom. It wasn't a pleasant meeting because none of our meetings when I had the student in my classes were pleasant. All are unfortunate.

6. I could have gotten more grading done than I did, but I'm totally ok with out it. It'll get done.

eating

I just want to go on the record and say that of all the stuff I expected from the future, and particularly the 21st Century (moon boots, flying cars, even bigger and cooler hair, clothes that clean themselves), I really really really want smaller, faster, healthier meals.


Yesterday I kept forgetting that I was either making food or supposed to be eating the food. This meant that I had to continually reheat and reheat. Today I’m taking the easy route and just doing the microwave thing, but I keep having to get up from my desk to fiddle with some meal as it spins in that radioactive box we somehow believe makes our life better by making our food hotter faster. Truly, eating is a distraction for me. I enjoy getting to do it when I’m with friends. It can be a good experience when the food is good, but most of the time my life is interrupted by the need to eat. And I don’t like that.

Yesterday I kept having to stop cleaning or writing to eat. Today I’m continually stopping my writing to eat. And now I’ve stopped my regularly scheduled writing to write this, about how much eating frustrates me sometimes. How is it possible that something my body absolutely needs has become an aggravation?

3 thoughts from today

1. Today, at school, I slept for about 1.5 hours on a couch in a closet. It was awesome. I wish I could do that more.

2. It seems that, regardless of how much I comfort myself with food--today it was a smoothie from Cold Stone Creamery, chicken and potato soup (that I made with Kristin), Triscuit, Oreos--I still somehow lose weight. Maybe I do have a worm or a parasite.

3. I'm not a good leader; I'm just a good doer that occasionally does things well enough for people to appreciate and attempt to emulate. I wish I were more transparent in my thoughts (that might be scary) and actions, so that I really could be replaceable. I've always thought of that as the best indicator of good leadership. I like to ask myself the question: how fast I could be replaced by someone I've led? If I'm not replaced, and the job goes undone--like middle school soccer at Pleasant View--then I've been more negative than positive. If the outcome reveals that people were totally dependent upon me, then I've done the opposite of leadership. If I'm replaced easily, and the transition is smooth, then I've done a good job. But I don't have any examples of that right now, so I'm back where I began: I'm not a good leader.

new school year

I'm pretty sure I'm one or two days away from making the couch my permanent bed, as I've done the past few years. I was really hoping that I might be able to make my way to the bed every night, but the truth is, it's a whole lot easier to simply stretch out on the couch and fall asleep. When I do 80% of my work on the couch, it's not hard to make that transition.

bitterness

I sat through church, and a sermon on Bitterness from Ephesians 4:31-32, and thought to myself, "I'm really not the type of person who is bitter about anything." And part of me was quite doubtful of that statement. Why would I not be a bitter person? Am I really not bitter? I kept trying to think of things about which I might be bitter. I'm not even bitter at Matt Clopine, who I once got in a fight with and who broke my nose in that fight. I may be bitter against the United States Postal Service for losing a bunch of my books and shoes and work for my Masters degree, but now that I wrote something completely different and have finished my Masters, I'm pretty sure I'm over it. I'm pretty sure I'm not even bitter against the people at KSPR Weather for trying to get my fired because I didn't like how they kept cutting in to the World Cup Final; that's more embarrassing for me than anything--more of a reminder of my stupidity. So, am I really not bitter?

Soon after church I found myself in my car, attempting to drive somewhere. It doesn't take long for me to be completely set off because of bad driving. And that's when I realized it. I'm bitter against stupid drivers. I hate it when people drive with no intentionality. It's like people in the midwest really are just out for a drive. They have no where to go, but they drive around for the fun of it. They don't care about the environment. They don't care about oil consumption. They don't even care about the other drivers on the road who actually may have somewhere to go. It's maddening. It's enough to make someone bitter.

perspective

Yesterday, while flipping through students' binders to check their Reading Records, I realized that I had made a pretty big mistake. Students must read at least 6 books per quarter, 24 books per year. I read one book aloud to them, Haroun and the Sea of Stories by Salman Rushdie, and the rest is up to them. We go to the library every Tuesday so that they can check new books out. I try to develop an atmosphere where reading is understood as at independent way to learn and grow as a human being. I also emphasize to the students that their interests will dictate much of what they do for the rest of their lives, so they should read about what interests them. It sounds simple, but with reluctant readers it can be very tough. And it's a constant job of making sure that students have books that are engaging to them. But it is so rewarding when they have conversations about the good books that they are reading. When students gather around the stacks in the library, or sit at tables and pass books and tell one another about what's going on, talking about characters like they're real people, or share insight in Science or Social Studies from something they read in a nonfiction text, it makes the constant effort worthwhile.

Well, the students must keep a Reading Record to keep track of all the books that they read, even the ones they don't finish. Students must keep records of the genre, total pages, lexile level, and the date finished or date abandoned. Students must all use MLA citation format for documenting the other pertinent details of the book (author, title, publisher, etc.). This seems like a whole bunch of crap to keep track of as a reader. No adult reader keeps track of this stuff, so why should my students? Well, that's a great question. I want my students to learn about themselves as readers--what genres they like and dislike, how much they are reading over time, and what level of the books they are reading (although I'm not too hip on the whole lexile thing to begin with). I also want my students to be be familiar with and practiced in using MLA citation; they'll be using it my class, in Social Studies, in Science, and all through high school.

My problem is one of perspective. I have the perspective of one who has experienced much in the way of education, and I have all these thoughts in my mind. My students obviously don't see things the way I do, and don't find keeping these records important. I've talked to them about why we keep track of the genre, page numbers, and date finished or date abandoned, but not about lexile levels or MLA citations. And what do you know? The biggest problem I'm seeing in the students Reading Records is in the lexile level and MLA citation documentation. Where I have not explained the importance of the documentation, the documentation suffers. That makes too much sense.

So on Tuesday, after we come back from the library, we'll not only be going over how to cite some different books using the MLA standards, but we'll also be talking about why citations are important in the first place. I really hope that leads to a discussion about copy right laws, especially those affecting music and movies, but even getting into things like intellectual property and things like the borrowing of html code.

And in unrelated news:
I was on a walk today. It's something I'd like to make a routine on Saturdays: take a walk to refresh my mind and body. Well, as I was walking a group of young guys went riding by on their bikes. The last one turned as he passed me and did a double-take. Then he slammed on his breaks, almost making him fall, and asking, "Mr. Maerke, is that you?" This was one of my students from my first year of teaching at Cherokee Middle School. He's a senior now, if my math is right and his grades are right, but who knows. The kid's about 6'3" now, tall and lanky just like the way he was in 8th grade. He was one of my brightest students, but never quite did well in any of his classes. As he's riding away, he turns and says to me, "Oh, I'm probably going to be a teacher." It completely took me by surprise. Here's a kid who figured out how to game the system. He was smart enough to get by without doing much, and was clever enough to figure out where the line was with each teacher, and made sure not to cross it. This meant that, although he could have had straight A's in all of his classes, he got C's and D's and made sure he had a good time doing it. 


Seeing former students is always fun, and this encounter especially, because of what happened at school yesterday. An especially challenging student, who had a long list of problems through 6th and 7th grade is starting out on a poor note in 8th grade. This student is also very bright, and has great potential, but he needs to make better decisions. I flat out told him this in last period on Friday. I told him that even if he got very little from my English class, when it comes to reading and writing, if I could help him understand the importance of making better decisions--first of all being considerate of and to others--then I would be pleased that he learned something this year. And I mean that. Yes, teaching reading and writing is why I collect a pay check from SPS, but students are why I choose to do it. Working with them is my passion and pride. Running into them years later, seeing them as more mature young men and women, who have gained perspective, is a great joy. 

scratchy and twitchy

That's the way I feel when I don't take my new medication. My head itches. My shoulders ache. I want to run.

I think I'm going to get a hair cut tomorrow. And tomorrow, I will write about the need for making things important. When things are important, people care. When I'm able to show the importance of a lesson, students pay attention and care.

More to come tomorrow.

from yesterday, and today, so I'm counting this one twice

I really like writing with pen and paper. Pencil and paper is nice, but I like pen and paper more. Typing is good, but I spend so much time on a computer during the day, that when I pull it out I can't help but open email, and twitter, and Google Reader, and check the OWP Ning. All of that feels like work. Lately, when I sit with pen and a notebook and write on paper, I can almost feel like I'm flying. That’s totally cliché and junior high, but it’s true. I'm becoming a writer; writing something that I want to do on a regular basis. It's something that, when presented with a new scenario or a problem, I want to do to sort out my thoughts.


Yesterday, after school, I went to MSU for an OWP meeting. It was nice to see people, and we really needed to get some work done. It was raining pretty good on my way in to Siceluff, so I didn't bring my computer in. (And I really didn't want to because then I would be more distracted and it would feel more like work). After sitting down at the table and reconnecting with everyone using our talking stick, I started to write, unprovoked. That's something that rarely happens. But now, as I'm writing every day, I'm looking for things to write about, and I'm finding things that I want to write about even when I don't have time.

I began writing about ironing. It's something that I've wanted to write about for some time, but just haven't. Below is not the exact version that I wrote, because I did go through and edit, but I actually told myself, as I was writing, that I would go through and edit. It's cliché filled and lousy, but I hope you enjoy.

Ironing.
It presses out the creases. It gets out the wrinkles.


It’s a great way to start a day. I do it to cleanse my mind. When I “press” my shirts I can feel my tightened mind loosen. I prepare myself for work by making myself “look sharp”—as my father might say. I act to stop the grind while somehow participating in the grind: I must iron my pants and shirts every morning; it is part of the routine. But somehow it is apart from all the rest of it.


Ironing comes after I read and journal and pray. That is a two-part intentional choice. I don’t want to sit down and wrinkle my newly crisp clothes. Sometimes I don’t want to read and journal and pray, but I force myself to do it, even when I’m running late. The intent is to prepare myself for the day—mentally and spiritually. The outcome is usually a desire for more time to sit and be quiet before my Creator. It’s then, in my morning routine, that I rise to iron out the wrinkles from my clothes. It is then that I feel my muscles begin to relax, and my mind grow at ease with the plans for the day. Yes, there is much to do, but with the right combination, anything is possible.


When I walk out of my study, where I iron, I walk out a neatly dressed, new man. I walk out armed to take on the day. There’s a mental shift that takes place, a loosening of the anxious bonds that rush me from shower to shave to shake to vitamins to _______________.


I don’t know why or how or when it happened, but I love ironing in the morning.