Assabet River June 2011

Zhuang Zi was a brilliant philosopher and strategist who lived in ancient China. His abilities were many and several rulers sought his services. One of them, King Wei, sent his courtiers out to Zhuang Zi’s pastoral home to invite him to come to Wei’s court and be the leader’s chief counselor. They found him there fishing by the river bank.

Seeing his poor situation, they thought Zhuang Zi would jump at the chance for status and reward. Yet when they made their proposal to him, he said, “Once upon a time there was a sacred turtle, which was happy living his life in the mud. Yet, because he was sacred, the king’s men found him, took him to the royal palace, killed him and used his shell to foresee the future. Now tell me, would that turtle prefer to have given up his life to be honored at the palace, or would he rather be alive and enjoying himself in the mud?”

The courtiers responded that, of course, the turtle would be happier in the mud.

To which Zhuang Zi replied, “And so you have my answer. Go home and let me be a happy turtle here in the mud.”

A friend sent me this parable a week ago.  It’s been a very hard month for me and this parable really spoke to me.  But, 23 progress reports to write, numerous assessments to correct, a new graduate course to teach, a paper to write for a course I am in, three after-school meetings, and two broken hearts to soothe, put this blog on the back burner.  But I promised myself when I finished my progress reports, that this post would be my reward.  So, instead of researching the Colonial America unit, checking grad student responses, or working on foundation stuff, I need to respond to this parable.

Storm Drain Behind Our School 1/27/2012

For the past two weeks, I have spent a lot of time in storm drain areas.  The key to getting water samples from these outfalls is that you need to be out there when it is precipitating.   So, myself and three students have done just that.  We have been out in rain, snow, and sun.  I’ve also spent some time before the sun comes up gathering samples from other locations for the students to analyze.  To some, this may not seem like a good time, but for me and my three students, it has been exhilarating.  The students also blogged about this:

“My most memorable experience was going down to the Storm Drain when it was freezing cold and raining. This probably doesn’t sound like much fun, but we got to see and take samples of what it looks like when the water comes out of the drain, and where it goes.”

 “Reflecting back, even though I learned a lot every time we conducted experiments or visited the river, there was one time that really stood out that I learned the most from. The time that we visited the storm drain when it was raining really increased my understanding of my group, the other factors of the SuAsCo Watershed. When we marched down there, the storm drain was full of mucky water and there was a streams of polluted water heading towards the river. This raised my understanding of my group because before that, I thought of a pollutant as a simple fluid or solid or gas that makes it harder for plants and/or animals to grow. But here I was staring down at this filthy water that contains all of the town’s contaminants sitting in an area of ground with absolutely nothing alive. Now I knew what pollutants we were dealing with more than ever.”

“The most memorable experience I have had so far is going down to the river for the first time to get samples when it

Following the Path of the Storm Drain 1/27/2012

was pouring rain. We went outside and there was snow and ice and we were expecting only a few drops of water to be coming out of the storm drain but we got there and found a huge pool with water rushing out of the pipe and a fast moving stream of runoff leading into the river. We were all cold and soaking wet while taking the samples but when we got inside the things that we found were definitely worth the trip.”

Standing in a pool of water, watching the water rush out of the rusty outfall pipe has been an incredible experience.  I have been going down to the river for six years behind our school, but I am now looking at it with an entirely different lens.  But even more than a different lens, it has reinforced my belief that I am like Zhuang Zi:  I’d rather be a happy turtle in the mud than just about anything else.  And the funny thing is that some of my students are also becoming happy turtles in the mud as well.

Moore's Swamp June 2011

Over the past year, I have had the privilege to watch Blanding’s turtle hatchlings hatch, release two turtles back into a swamp, track nesting female turtles, look for released head-starts, and sink a six-foot PVC gauge into the middle of a vernal pool three (soon to be four) times.  Each of these experiences have provided me with a huge rush.  Like standing in the pouring rain collecting samples from numerous storm drains, to feeling the cool water in a swamp, to sitting on the banks of the Assabet River, this teacher is totally happy when participating in these types of experiences.  For me, there is something liberating, something that really makes me feel alive when I’m mucking around out in the natural world.  There is something joyful and soulful while I am involved in these experiences.  One of my students wrote about sinking the vernal pool gauge for the second time:  My memorable experience during the project was sinking the gauges. Even though this was due to the fact that it got stolen, it was still fun to go trudging in the mud and sink a gauge. It was just exciting to go in water/mud that was about a 2 feet tall and sink a gauge. Now don’t ask me why it was fun it just was.

One of my favorite songs from the show “Glee” is “Singing in the Rain”

I’m singin’ in the rain

Just singin’ in the rain

What a glorious feeling

And I’m happy again

I’m laughing at clouds

So dark, up above

I’m singin’, singin’ in the rain.

Great Meadows July 2011

This parable came from a blog entitled “3 Timeless Parables to Regain Perspective”.  Standing in the middle of a downpour yesterday in a stream created by the storm water helps me regain the perspective of what is important.  This allows me to appreciate that life is glorious, that simple things like being out in a driving rainstorm can make me happy.  The greatest gift that I can give to my students is to also pass on that it is not the status or reward that Zhuang Zi passed up, but it is the simple things in life; the ability to appreciate things like storm drains and catch basins and muddy vernal pools, the joyfulness of standing in the pouring rain, the ability to be a happy turtle in the mud is the only status that truly matters.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 5,700 times in 2011. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 5 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

An interesting shot from the day

To many people, my morning would have been considered a complete bust.  Leaving my house at 6:30 a.m, before the sun started to rise., I quickly got across town to CCHS where I would be picking up a vernal pool gauge to replace the one that was stolen from our vernal pool site.  The streets were mostly quiet, as was the parking lot at the high school when I pulled in.  A few stray students carrying poster boards quickly scooted across the lot into the quiet school.  Heading down to find S-1, I thought about how quiet it was.  Finding the door, I tried to open the door and it was locked.  I turned the corner and tried the other door.  Locked.  No custodian in site.  I turned and headed back to my car, thinking of a Plan B to get the gauge.  6:45 a.m and I needed to be at Ripley at 7:30 a.m. to give the accountant some money to pay for our turtle crossing signs.

45 minutes to kill.  What was I going to do?  I’ve wanted to do a blog about the TOT box.  So, I headed back to Concord Center, where I headed to Main Street Café.  I thought a cup of hot tea, a muffin, and 45 minutes of free time to write my blog would be great.  And it was.  A steaming cup of Bombay Chai tea and a delicious raspberry mocha muffin in a quiet café were just a delightful treat.  Sitting at a window seat, I started to type up the blog that has been in my head for about five days.

35 minutes later, I decided I ought to head over to Ripley to both deliver my transcript and to deliver the cash for the signs.  Again, a quiet building awaited me.  Sitting down at the circular table in the waiting area, I started to leaf through a wonderful collection of student writing.  Folks started to trickle in, looking at me puzzled to why I was sitting at Ripley on a weekday morning.  So, I told my story to the first two colleagues.  Then Diana walked in.  “So good to see you, what are you doing here,” she inquired.  I told her my story once again and she said for me to give her the money, that she would deliver it to the accountant so I wouldn’t be “wasting my time.”  I thanked her and headed out the door pondering that line, “wasting my time.”

As I headed back to Thoreau, unfashionably late for me, I came across a wonderful scene of old farm equipment laying in a frosty field.  Yes, I should have stopped and photographed it.  But that seemed much too decadent on an already laid back morning.  The morning to most would be a bust.  I didn’t get my gauge, I didn’t give the money to the person I was looking for.  I did manage to give my transcript to HR.  (but that could have been ponied over).  But maybe it wasn’t a bust.  Being able to sit and write a post, enjoy a cup of tea and a muffin, read some wonderful student writing, observe some beautiful scenery gave me an almost Zen start to the school day.  Maybe I didn’t strike out.  Maybe I gained a quiet hour of time to just sit back and relax.  Maybe a waste of time is what we all need to do from time to time.

As I sit here typing this, a mere 15 minutes before the students arrive, I again feel slightly guilty that I should be doing more.  But, perhaps this waste of time, this quiet, is what the doctor would order during this crazy season.

This is next the blog that I wrote during my 35 minutes of down time:

TOT Box

Totally Off Topic Box (TOT)

Totally Off Topic, TOT.  I don’t really remember how we got this saying, but this fall, a student will raise their hand, and preface their comment by saying, “This is totally off topic but…”. I am also guilty of the same offense, mainly due to my 50+ year old’s brain not being able to recall what I need to tell them five minutes later.  Sometimes I can answer their totally off topic comment, sometimes I need to keep talking about what I am teaching at that moment and I can’t answer that question.

So, several weeks ago, one of my students raised her hand and said “Can we have a box for our totally off topic questions?”.   Our TOT box was born.  A student volunteered to decorate a box, I pledged that at the end of each day to do “TOT” time, and a great idea was born.

The next day, a beautiful red and white striped TOT box appeared with the student.  We placed little note pads at each table group.  At the end of that school day, we held our first TOT time.  The range of questions is quite wide from what is Kyla’s favorite cheese (Kyla is my dog) to why do students learn different ways of doing math than I did to why is kidnapping known as kidnapping when it’s not always a kid who is taken.  I never know what to expect when I pull out a slip of paper other than the question intrigued one student enough to write it, so it will be interesting to see what they wrote.

So, why do the students love TOT time?  I asked them about what they like.  “There’s the ability to ask questions that don’t necessarily fit into a subject area’, “It’s fun”,  “We can have fun and learn at the same time”, “It lets us be more social”, “we can expand subjects to learn even more things that we want to know”, :It gives us time to hear the teacher’s opinion on unrelated topics”,  “It’s a great way to end the day”, “Some of the information could be useful later in life”,  “It gives us a way on suggesting how to improve our class.”

The last time I used a box in class, it was a problem box.  I had one class that loved to fill that up with sometimes really trivial problems.  The TOT box has been such a positive addition to the class, and the students initiated it all.   TOT – sometimes it’s great to let ourselves go totally off topic!

And the last blog of the day:

A Delightful Day Continued…..

So, my hour of “free time” this morning was a completely wonderful way to start my day.  And the wonderful day continued once the students arrived.  If any of you have seen Jerry Maguire, you might remember his manifesto about sports management.  Not all the words apply, but some of these words do ring true:

• “You and I are blessed, he said, “we do something that we love.”
• “And to those young agents who never met him, Dicky Fox always said the same thing when asked for his secret. “The secret to this job,” he said, “is personal relationships.”
• “Love the job. Be the job”

Today, I had the opportunity to live all three parts of that manifesto.  Today was what I envision education to look like and feel like.  Today was DPC Day in the class.  Time to take advantage of the snow-free ground and run some real life experiments.  Not experiments in a box but real experiments created by the students.  Questions that they formed.  Questions that they care about.  Questions that led to more questions.

Before we started though, we had a real treat with an author/illustrator Brian Lies during our library time.  I got to come during the last part of it and was struck by his message.  “Practice makes better”, “pick something that you really enjoy and pursue it.”  All great messages for young people to hear.

So, a little after 11:00 a.m., we set off to the Great Outdoors.  Meeting under the gazebo, the expert groups gathered their equipment and set off to start their tasks.  One group tallied the amount of students that ran up and down the hill during all the recesses during the day.  In addition, they measured the rate of water as it ran down the steep eroded hill.  They started doing some outreach with the younger students about erosion and started to graph their data.   Another surveyed all the invasive species on campus, pulled garlic mustard (why is this stuff still so green?) and ran soil pH tests.  The River Experts calculated the flow on the river, analyzed the temperatures and pHs of the water and evaluated the types of rocks on the river’s bed.  The Path and Stone dust Experts completed very thorough experiments, conducted pH tests and created wonderful visuals to their results.  Finally, the storm drain experts “unearthed” a lot of debris from the storm drain pipe, tracked the path of the water as it flows to the river, ran pH tests on soil and water, and came up with a slew of new questions. Watching my students take charge of their learning, be totally engaged and interested in their learning was mesmerizing.  I continue to marvel at their growth, their confidence, their enthusiasm.  It was a wonderful day that integrated all that I feel good teaching and learning should encompass.

Twelve hours later, the sun is well down and I am back in a quiet house.   I have an inbox full of vokis and blogs to review.  But for now, I am allowing myself the luxury once again to finish writing, to pursue something I love to do (blog) and to reflect on how much I love what I do in life.  This day was one where I was batting 1000 for sure!

As the sun started to set behind the dusty gray skies, I headed to my car to head home.  I needed to get an article written to submit by Thursday and start correcting my Regis papers.  Sitting down in the driver’s seat, I noticed the letter that I needed to mail today to get it into Framingham State University in time for a course.  So, instead of heading west on 62 to go home, I headed towards West Concord Center.  As luck would have it, a train was coming through and the traffic was backing up Church Street, so I swung into the parking lot by the cleaners instead.  Patiently, I waited for the train gates to come up so that I could cut through the Minuteman Press building to get to the post office.  I walked on the sidewalk towards the post office, where a very cute dog with soulful eyes sat tied around the lamppost.  An elderly woman and myself approached the dog, which was extremely friendly.  Heading towards the post office door, I held the door open for the woman and commented on what a cute dog he was.  We both asked an elderly gentleman who was leaving if it was his dog.  “No,” he replied, “but his owner is right up at the counter.”  I got in line to mail my letter while the woman was fumbling for some change for her postage.  “You’re going to kill me but all I have is a twenty-dollar bill for this.  I know it’s only 48 cents, but I don’t have anything else.”  Remembering the movie, “Pay It Forward”, I stepped forward and offered to pay the 48 cents.  Unzippering the wallet part of my purse, the woman said, “Really, you will pay this?”  “

“It’s not a big deal, I want to do it for you,” I replied, pulling out a quarter, two dimes, and three pennies.

“These are my deceased daughter’s estate papers,” she said, “no mother should have to bury her child.”

Nodding emphatically at her, I said “I know, I lost my youngest sister at a young age.”

“How old was your sister?” the stranger in the post office asked.

“Thirty-two, one week short of her 33^rd birthday,” I quietly told her.

“My daughter was just 33.  You are my thanksgiving.  Thank you so much for doing this.”

It’s amazing how a simple act of kindness can do for someone.  As she headed out, she turned and said, “What’s your name?”

“Susan,” I answered.

“Mine’s Suzanne, we were meant to be friends.”  Turning, she disappeared out the door.  I finished my transaction, speaking with a former parent in my room, coincidentally also named Susan.

As I headed outside, I looked for Suzanne and her soulful dog.  But she had vanished into this warm November darkness.  But not before leaving a huge mark on my soul.

So, how can I turn this story into a lesson for the classroom?  There are a lot of conversations at school on how to best maintain an environment that reflects our core values.  But my question is how can we inspire children to act towards one another kindly and respectfully?  You never know how a random act of kindness can help someone get through a tough time.  You might make a new friend.  You might give someone a glimmer of the best of human spirit.  With the statewide initiative on anti-bullying, how can we instead make a model of how to pay it forward with our students?

Going on-line after starting to write this, I found that Benjamin Franklin wrote about this concept many years ago.  He said: “I do not pretend to give such a Sum; I only lend it to you. When you [...] meet with another honest Man in similar Distress, you must pay me by lending this Sum to him; enjoining him to discharge the Debt by a like operation, when he shall be able, and shall meet with another opportunity. I hope it may thus go thro’ many hands, before it meets with a Knave that will stop its Progress. This is a trick of mine for doing a deal of good with a little money.”  There is also a Pay It Forward Day http://payitforwardday.com/

48 Cents.

Yesterday, we headed down to the river’s edge.  We went back to our journals and took digital cameras along instead of our iPads.  The minute we arrived down at the bank, I heard one of my students exclaim, “this is so relaxing down here.”  She was propped up against a tree, snug in her warm down parka, as she surveyed the white clouds dancing on the teal blue, slow-moving water.    Since we now go to the vernal pool once a month as well, we only get down to the river once a month.  With no offense intended to the vernal pool, the river is much more a magical place for us all.  I don’t know if it is the soothing river water, the empty bare branches, the leaf that floats along on its journey, or the remains of the asters.  Something about this place just mesmerizes us all and brings out the best in us.  So after they had done their observations, they took a digital camera and recorded their observations through the camera’s lens.

Today, we took those cameras to the lab and imported them to iPhoto.  Some of the students played with the effects, some of them re-exported them the way they were, but all of the students were equal in their compliments about everyone’s photos.  I printed some out, and the students were moved to see their work on paper.  Since we have a photo gallery in our room, we discussed how we could hang more up in the classroom.  Watching their pride in their work as they worked on these photographs reminded me of the continued importance in allowing that inner artist flourish in many different manners.  Photos, movies, comic strips, Scratch, and SAM animation are all ways for the students to show their artistic side and it doesn’t involve having to draw.  As someone who also loves to take photographs, I could totally relate to their pride.

Since today was a long day Tuesday, we sometimes have specials in the afternoon and today we had gym from 1:45 to 2:25.  I had planned on having the students work on some social studies when they arrived back.  However, there was a little kink in that plan as one of my colleagues attempted to play a joke on me.  She wasn’t quick enough to pull it off, so it left me to explain to the students about our history of playing jokes on one another.  This led into a discussion, not about the Spice Trade, but a “payback” joke.  I don’t want to play my hand but let’s say by 3:05 p.m. , we were all singing “Give me that filet of fish, give me that fish.”  We were all quite animated when leaving and as one of our parents, who was there to pick up here child said, “wow, you all look really excited about something.”

While this discussion and singing was going on, I felt some momentarily twangs of guilt that we weren’t doing social studies.  But, everyone was totally engaged in the discussion.  I let go of my guilt.  My students work really hard all of the time while they are in class.  There really isn’t much down time.  I have seen things really change over my 13 years of teaching, and there seems to be less time to do things like the river.  Recently, one of my former students contacted me about a Native American cooking experience and luncheon that we had while he was in 5th grade.   I did not remember that we had actually cooked things in school.  Now a freshman at Boston College, he is a member of the Native American club there and he invited me to a cook off that they are holding.  Obviously the cooking we did in fifth grade stayed with him for all of these years.  So, it was okay to let go and have some fun.  Sometimes, it’s those lesson that aren’t part of the curriculum frameworks that are the true learning experience.  So, we sang and danced our way out to the buses and it was joyful.

Picture taken by my son while he was in Prifti's class

About an hour later, I heard a piece of news that reaffirmed my choice in letting go.  The beloved CCHS photography teacher, Dave Prifti, had died after a two and a half year battle with pancreatic cancer.  Dave blogged about his illness throughout this time period.  He was an inspiration to us all in that through his illness, he reminded all of us how to live, to treasure those small moments, that bite of a cookie, the beauty of nature, and the importance of friends, families, and even random strangers.  Dave wrote his last blog post about three weeks ago.  He thanked everyone for supporting him and his family throughout his illness.  Little did he know how much his words inspired us all.  Reading the 240 plus comments posted after that post contained so many joyful moments from his students and colleagues.     It was pretty clear that they moments they treasured were those fun times, the times that they laughed together, the times that Dave encouraged them to find their own paths.

So to Dave, thank you for inspiring so many students, including my own sons, to find the beauty in everyday moments.

And my colleague best be on alert.

From Google Images

“Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally” or PEMDAS is a new concept being introduced to the fifth grade students this year.  It’s been a few years (okay, more than a few years) since I have last worked with this concept, but I remember the mnemonic as standing for “Parentheses, Exponents, Multiplication, Division, Addition, Subtraction”, aka “Order of Operations.”  Not only have we learned this, but we have also learned about brackets and braces as well.  Some problems that we have encountered have been relatively straight-forward, while others have been on the somewhat tricky side.  So, several nights ago, this was one of the problems on the homework:

24 – (8/2) + 6 =

I always do out the answers before starting to correct the problems.  I calculated that the answer should be 26.  Sitting down to correct the work on Wednesday evening, the first student had 26 for an answer.  So far, so good.  But the next five students had 14 for an answer.  Clearly, there was a difference of opinion on the correct answer.  Since, I am always subject to making my own errors, I wasn’t sure.  Since I have been getting ready for an observation, I was recently reading over “22 Verbal Events in a Class that Lets Kids Get Smart.”  One of the suggestions was to for students to take initiative to explain another student’s thinking, including how they might have made an error.  So, I decided not to make that answer right or wrong and put it in front of the class for discussion.

On this rainy Thursday, I started our math class by putting that problem on the ActivBoard and put down 26 and 14 as a possible answer.   I asked for volunteers to explain how someone may have arrived at 26 for an answer.  ”You divide 8 by 2, which is 4, then you subtract 4 from 24 which is 20 and add 6 which is 26.  As soon as that student finished, over half the class raised their hands, saying “no, you do addition before subtraction, remember PEMDAS.  Addition comes before subtraction.  So, 8 divided by 2 = 4, 4 + 6 = 10, and 24 – 10 = 14.  Another girl raised her hand and said she had a similar question on this problem the night before and her father had looked it up on the internet, where he said that addition and subtraction are treated equally and one should do the operation from left to right.  More mass confusion rang throughout the room.  But, you taught us PEMDAS, addition is before subtraction.

Quickly, I decided to phone a friend, in this case our math specialist Mrs. Link.  She shortly came downstairs and respectfully listened to the “26″ camp and the “14″ camp.  She listened to the student who talked about her dad’s research and nodded that she agreed with that theory.  Again, more confusion.  Always diplomatic, Mrs. Link announced to the class that was going to consult with some other math experts and see if she could clarify the confusion.  Off she headed, and we tried to settle down to do some place value work.

After about five minutes, Mrs. Link returned, a book in her hand, to deliver her “ruling.”  Everyone waited for her to open up her “Math on Call” book.  Opening up to section 208, she started to read the definition that multiplication and division are treated equally and are solved from left to right as are addition and subtraction.  A learning moment for us all for sure.  I thanked her for her work in searching out the truth for us.  She headed back upstairs again and we were left to work on some addition and subtraction problems before lunch.

Since lunch was next, I headed upstairs to talk with Mrs. Link.  She commented on the students’ passion for discussing math.  Too often, the students just sit there passively and are not actively engaged.  Not these 20 students (3 were out today).  They were passionate in their views, they challenged each other’s views, and they willingly admitted (as did I) that they were confused.  I felt that this was a learning moment for us all.  Sometimes, it is not about being right, it’s about learning from one another and being passionate about your views.  I don’t think that any one of us will ever think about PEMDAS again without thinking about this great learning experience.

A quick note about the photographs.  Before starting my writing, I went onto my iPhoto library to look for some pictures that I had taken.  In my library, there was a roll of images from one of my students, who took these during a trip to Cousin’s Field this week.  They are spectacular and much better than any of my current images.  I am not sure if this one child who gave me his camera is the photographer of all of the pictures (there may be more than one student’s work), but I do want to credit one of my fifth grade students with these photos.

Photo of a Flower at Cousin's Field from an Erickson 5 Student

Blog-Say One:  The Importance of Providing Different Tools for Student Learning

I am a firm believer in having students be able to express themselves in different manners.  Over the past two years, first with the “Digital Farm”  and then with “CBL and DPC” last year, I have been so blown away with giving students the freedom to present their work in different manners.  Students who didn’t like to write with pencil and paper created web sites, video games, and movies.  Students who are not exactly the best with drawing taking gorgeous digital pictures (proof — the picture at the right).  Instead of book reports, students this year created beautiful book trailers, incorporating and evaluating music for their movie as well.  Watching the students themselves become bloggers is equally satisfying.  One post last week talked about how at that point, the class had created 399 posts on their Kid Blog site.  (and I thought I was a hot shot with 110 blog entries on this site).  I have seen the students interact with one another so respectfully on this blog site, encouraging one another about a story that one boy has written, to another one pondering big questions like why do politicians keep insulting one another.  Through their own blogs, they have found that our classroom extends beyond the physical space of our room’s walls.  A coming attraction in our room is the arrival of the iPads this week.  On Friday, the students became editors of each other’s September writing sample.  I approached three students and asked them how we were going to get everyone their comments.  One started off that they could cut the paper up into strips.  I kind of shrugged at that suggestion.  ”What about doing a podcast with the comments?”  The wheels of our mind started turning.  I rushed over to get my new iPad, told them about Audio Boo, and we were off. “We could create Vokis, we could do this, we could do that.”  Then I heard one child say, “why don’t we just write it down?” and another one quickly said, “Because Mrs. Erickson wants us to go ‘digital’”.  I want my students to be able to leverage all different types of platforms to display their learning.  To strengthen this argument, my oldest son will be graduating from college this spring and is just starting the job search.  Over a cup of tea last week with a dear friend, I mentioned that he had a phone interview.  She just sent me an article entitled “Your New Job Security Starts Here:  A stable work future isn’t about finding a lifelong employer.  It’s about being able to land the next professional opportunity – which means mastering the digital job hunt.”  This article includes making your own website, a video biography, being ready to have a video interview, becoming a blogger, and stepping it up with social media.  These are all tools that we use to enhance our learning in my classroom, and it seems like learning these tools is essential in the workforce that my students will one day be entering.

Another picture of Cousin's Field from an Erickson 5 Student

Blog-Say Two:  When Just Good Enough is not Good Enough

During this past summer, I blogged about the passing of my band teacher Al Yesue.  At Back to School Night, I dedicated my year to him.  During our first personal essay unit, my model for the children was about Al.  My three main points were that Al taught me to believe in myself, that he taught me to go outside my comfort zone, and finally he taught me that “good enough is not good enough”  This paragraphs reads as follows:

“One lesson that Al taught me was that “good enough” is not good enough.  You can get by in life by putting the bare minimum or you can get the most out of life by putting in your very best effort into everything you do.  I remember that hot summer night in July.  Lined up on the parking lot at Riverside Park, we returned to “the line” once again to play the opening measures of Holst’s “Jupiter” once again.  I couldn’t understand why we were sent back again and again to re-do it.  It sounded good enough.  But to Al, it didn’t sound “good enough”.  He wanted it to sound great.  He wanted us to play it with feeling.  He wanted us to play it liked we meant it.  So back to the line again. And again. And again.  For three, long hot hours we kept going back and repeating those three measures.  At the end of that night, we weren’t necessarily happy that we spent three long hours doing the same thing over and over again.  But in the long run, it taught me to always put 100% into anything I undertook.   Thirty-five years later, I am still practicing this life lesson. “

In teaching, I don’t feel it is right to “be just good enough.”  I always am looking at better ways to engage my students.  I am always looking for new things to learn.  I never teach a unit the same way twice.  I am quite comfortable going outside my comfort zone for the good of my students.

But this week, it was the students’ turn to learn this lesson.  On Friday, October 7th, we took our first unit post test in math.  The day before, we had reviewed the material for the test.  I told the students that there would be a “challenge” problem that I couldn’t tell them about but that as a whole, they were excellent math students and they would do fine.  I told them about how much I enjoy watching them consume “Dynamaths” and how much I enjoy them being excited about “tiny tests”.  I overheard one student say “She’s giving us a pep talk.”  The next day, I handed out the tests, reminded them that they could do this, but to be careful.  A week later, the corrected tests were returned to me.  I was dismayed as I looked them over during lunch.  The scores overall were not good.  Concerned that I had not done a good enough job teaching the students, I went upstairs to ask our math specialist her take.  ”The tests are full of silly mistakes,” she told me.  ”It’s not that they didn’t know what to do.”  I suddenly now knew why Al made us keep playing those three measures for three hours.  I now knew how dismayed he must have felt by our complacency, we were champions, but he believed we could be better than just “good enough”.  I had to approach the children gently, as for some of them, they had never received such a low score.  I talked with them that at time our failures lead to our best learning.  This was a new beginning.

And two days later, we took a pre-test in our next unit.  For some, more of the same carelessness.  But for one student, who had done quite poorly on his post-test, he was almost perfect on this one.  I pulled him aside and told him how well he did on this one.  And he said to me, “I know I am better than a student who got a 59% on the last test.”  He got the lesson that “just good enough is not good enough.”  I marveled at his insight in learning this lesson at such a young age.  And I hope some of the others also catch one for as a teacher, this was one frustrating experience, when you know your students can do well and then they don’t.

Blog-Say Three: Parking Valets, Eye Technicians, Respect, and Confidence.

Two years back, I wrote a post called “Japanese Flower Arranging, A Glaucoma Eye Test and Teaching”. I concluded that “I need to be reassuring, and make sure they fully

Another Plant at Cousin's Field by an Erickson 5 Student

understand what we are doing and why.  I need to scaffold tasks for them at times and then gently sit beside them as they attempt it on their own.  If they are nervous about doing something, I need to acknowledge their feelings, while at the same time encouraging them and providing them with the information for them to be successful.  I need to laugh with them, and nod and smile at them.  I need to remember what being a learner truly feels like.”  Last year, due to the unfortunate incident with my elbow, my eye appointment did not happen.  So on September 27th, when I headed off to that appointment, I was feeling confident after the experience that I had the last time I was there.  (in case you don’t read this old post, I hate that Glaucoma test more than any other medical exam) .  I was late leaving school and was already flustered when pulling into the Emerson parking lot.  Since my foot was in a boot after an unfortunate encounter with a large tree root, I debated about using the valet to park my car.  But the line was long, and I was already running late, so I headed to the parking lot.  If you have ever been to the Cummings/Emerson parking lot, you will know that it is a nightmare on most days and hours.  And the minute I pressed that button to get the ticket, I had begun to regret my decision not to valet.  I headed down one long aisle of cars and then up another where I saw a car leaving its spot.  Up that aisle I swung and quickly pulled into the spot.  Then I realized, that I was much too close on the passenger side to the other car’s driver’s door.  There was no way they could get into their car.  And looking at how close I was, there was no way I was going to be able to pull my car out without hitting the other car.  Panicking, I hobbled over the the valet and asked him “Can you help me?”  This young man calmly asked me what he could do to help me.  I told him I had parked too close to another car and that I couldn’t get my car out of that spot.  Seeing my distress, he said, “Lo0k, you must have an appointment.  Just give me your key and I’ll take care of it.”  Hobbling into the building, I thought his mother would be proud of how he helped this damsel in distress.  My calmness had eroded over the past fifteen minutes.  I was hoping for Marian, the same technician that I had the last time for my eye exam.  But instead of Miriam, a young technician called me in.  I explained that she was going to have to talk me through the exam, hopeful for the same success that I had two years ago.  But she did not have the same bedside manner.  She was impatient with me,  and I could not sit still when the machine came towards my eye. I jumped again and again.  I could sense her aggravation building towards me.  ”Let me try it one more time, ” I asked her.  ”No,” she said, “I’ll have to have the doctor do it.”  Sitting back out in the waiting room, I felt like a failure.  Tears, not from the drops, ran from my eyes.  My ophthalmologist was wonderful and we were able to get the test done, but my confidence had deflated.  Heading back outside to the valet station, I remembered that I had left my computer in the car, something I never do if my car is unlocked.  I went over to the valet who told me he would go and get my car.  The cost for valet parking is $5.00.  When he came back with my car, I handed him a twenty dollar bill and told him to keep the change.  He asked me if I was sure, and I said I appreciated how much he helped me.  He was respectful of my situation, he didn’t say “lady, I can’t do that.”  He just did it.

This mere 90 minutes reminded me of the importance of respecting my learners and of inspiring my students to be confident.  The valet respected my distress while the eye technician did not respect my fears and left me feeling like a failure.  I will keep this lesson in my on when working with my students who are having difficulty with a topic.  I need to be respectful of who they are as learners as well as trying to get them to be confident in themselves and their abilities.

This year in class, we have instituted a “respect” card as well as a “confidence” card every day.  This has been rewarding to watch the students helping one another.  They are respectful of each other’s learning styles.  I love seeing a quiet student speak up confidently while answering a math question or saying “I think I nailed this math facts quiz.”  We have now weaned it from my selecting the person to them nominating one another.

Confidence and Respect.

Yellow Flower with Bee by Erickson 5 Student

It felt really great to get some blogging done, before heading back out to do some errands.  I guess my short “blog-says” could have been three different posts, but I think as a trio, they fit well together.

“Remember when the days were long

Don Henley

I had meant to write my 110th post on this blog on the first week of school.  However, after returning from a day of teaching my grad students, I quickly went onto my facebook page before venturing out to mow the lawn, and here was a post from my friend Robin about 9-11.  After reading her recollection about 9-11, while mowing my lawn, I too remembered back to that day ten years ago.

There was a brilliant blue sky that September Tuesday morning.  This was my first year teaching 4th graders after two years of teaching 5th grade.  I gave away basically 6th graders and now was teaching essentially 3rd graders.  They were smaller and unjaded by the hormones that had begun to sprout in my former students.  I don’t remember what day we specifically started school that year, but my guess was it was the Thursday preceding this Tuesday, so this was our fourth day in school.

School started at 9:00 a.m., as I think this was our schedule before the 900 hours law came into effect.  So, unbeknownst to us all, as my 4th graders entered my classroom that September morning, a day, that would become our Pearl Harbor Day to this generation, had already begun.  I think my students had only been in the classroom about 40 minutes when my husband appeared in my doorway.  Dressed in his typical suit, he beckoned me to the door.  I hurried over to him, thinking something had happened to one of my parents.  In a hushed voice, he told me that planes had flown into the World Trade Centers and Pentagon, and he didn’t know if the country was being attacked.  He told me he had hid cash in one of his dresser drawers, and if this was the case that we were under attack, to take our boys, the money and head up to our cottage in New Hampshire.  With that, he turned back out the door.  I needed to pretend that everything was fine as I went through the motions of teaching, not knowing what was happening.  Our social worker walked by our classroom, and I motioned to her.  I whispered to her what my husband had told me.  She left to find a TV to find out what was going on.  Whispered conferences took place between staff members.  It was decided that we should stay in school for our usual half day on Tuesday.  It was decided that we would not say anything to the children since a large amount of students had parents who traveled.  It was decided that we would go on like business as usual on this 4th day of school.

I remember the end of the day dismissal.  Walking my students out to the buses and waiting parents, I wanted to hold them close to me.  I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring.  I didn’t know if anyone had parents who had traveled that beautiful fall morning.  I didn’t know the enormity of the day.  I just didn’t know.   After dismissing the children, the faculty gathered in our library where our principal had one of those TV stands that Robin mentioned on.  Together, we watched the buildings collapse. Since we were all in a state of shock, we could not begin to discuss how we would talk with our students tomorrow.  I headed home to gather up my own sons, who my husband had picked up.  I remember being out in the yard with them that afternoon.  It was still absolutely gorgeous out, a brilliant blue sky.  But that brilliant blue sky was missing something that afternoon, it was totally silent from any air travel.

The next morning, our faculty gathered before school to discuss how we were approach this with our students.  I don’t remember the specifics, but all too quickly the students arrived.  Gathering in a circle by the back door in our classroom, I remember just asking the children what questions they had about what had happened the day before.  One little red-head, freckled face boy named Max asked me a question that has stayed with me to this day.  ”Why did the pilot fly his plane into the building Mrs. Erickson?” he asked.  To a nine year old child, this didn’t make any sense.  To the then 41 year old teacher, that didn’t make any sense either.  I grew sad for both my own sons and my students that a sense of innocence no longer existed.

Ten years later, I think of all the other teachers all around the world who have had to explain senseless acts to children.  I still have the same sense of wanting to protect my students from these senseless acts, and let them just be children.

The Teacher as a Runner

Back in the day when I use to run track, cross-country, and then road races, the day before a big race is traditionally a pretty light day.  Some stretching, maybe a very light jog, a few windsprints, and early to bed.  After some hard training, you want to give your legs a break, so they will be ready to react to the starter’s gun.  You wanted to feel antsy at that gun, not so tired that you couldn’t envision running 800 meters, 5K 0r 10 miles.  You needed that day to let your muscle fibers heal up a bit.  I remember back in 1982 when I was running between 55 to 70 miles a week, that this “off day” felt very strange.  Your body was at loose ends, use to the high mileage, but “forced” to run maybe only two to three miles.  You wanted to go further, but knew that in your best interest for the race tomorrow, that you should not.  So, here I sit on this lilac chair, wanting to go in and put up that last piece of bulletin board border, wanting to futz around with my opening day challenge, but knowing I should not step foot in the door today.  I did my “light” training, running (rather driving) to Staples to pick up a few last things and then over to the Natural Resources office to pick up my Conservation Land Use Permit.  I finished reading Teach Like Your Hair is on Fire, worked a tad on my graduate class that I teach, and basically soaked in as much natural Vitamin D that I could stand.  Just like the day before a race, when I use to envision what that race may look like, I did the same analysis of my school year.

First and foremost on my mind is that I am looping with 21 out of my 22 students from last year.  Back a few moons ago, I have been a looping teacher before.  I went from being a 4th grade teacher, taking 12 students with me in a 4/5 combination.  The following year, I took 11 out of 12 4th graders in that combo class, and became a 5th grade teacher again.  While a good percentage went forward, 21/22 is a really high percentage.  These students know my tricks.  They totally will know what I expect from them, but they know my tricks.  I totally need to switch up my beginning of the school year activities.  I agonized over my letter to them.  Always before, they received a bag of sand.  But I didn’t want to repeat that this year.  I needed to switch my race strategy.  I’ll let you know how this switch turned out after our first week.  This reminded me of when I was a 800 runner in high school.  I liked to take it out from the gun.  This strategy went well, I was undefeated heading into our last dual meet.  Didn’t work so well at that meet, I was caught by another runner, ending my quest for an undefeated season.  With the League Championship a week away, I needed to change my strategy.  And for that race, coming off the final turn behind the runner who had just beat me a week earlier, I was able to sprint by her, winning the Midland League Championship.

I thought back to another race, the Yankee Homecoming 10-Miler in Newburyport in 1982.  I went out extremely hard,

Pre-Race Taper Strategy

going through two miles in 12 minutes and 36 seconds.  Then my legs “fell asleep” (this resulted in my having surgery 4 times in the ensuing years).  Around 7 miles into the race, they came back to normal again, and I finished in a very respectable time of 68 minutes 2 seconds.   So, how do I start this long race (180 days to be exact plus weekends for me) on the 6th.  Do I go out hard?  Do I go out steadily?  Do I go out slowly?  I have two new students to add to the 21 students, so I probably need to go out a tad slower than full speed ahead.  In a long race, you certainly don’t want to crash and burn during the first two months.  How do I maintain some semblance of an exercise program, of some down time with family?

Then there’s the challenge of your other competitors.  In my teaching case, the challenge is to be a learner along with your students. What direction will they push me this year?  (and that is in totally a good way!) What new things will light my fire this year?  The best projects are usually those that are not totally planned out.  My “pre-race” guess is that the students will want to take another crack at DPC this year.  I’m a bit worried about that as I don’t want it to be a “forced” project.  I want it to be just as exciting a process as it was last year.  So parts of the race are somewhat worrisome to me.  This is like when you don’t know the race course.  You’re not quite sure where the hills are, where the turns are.  To me, teaching is like this as well, you are never quite sure until you actually get going.  Even when you get going, there are obstacles along the way.  I have a new learning space to “learn,” new curriculum, several new students, and even those returning students have grown over the summer.  Just like the day before a race, my mind races with the possibilities.

13 years into this “race”, and the same insecurities exist the day before.  This is not a race that seems to get any easier as the years go by.  But one thing that still exists is the excitement of getting started, the excitement of watching my students grow, the excitement of learning along with them.  It is that excitement that gets me over that steep hill, that keeps me hanging on to the finish line.  I’m ready and raring to go.

Billowing Cumulonimbus Clouds Over the Boston Skyline

After lunch with two oncologists at a converted jail (that might be a story in itself), I had about 90 minutes to kill before my train back to Concord.  I debated on what to do…Red Line to Porter Square to look at books, walk around the West End…or head to the banks of the River Charles to check out what is happening on this sultry late summer afternoon.  I elected to head down to river to sit on a bench and read.  Crossing over Storrow Drive, I noticed small waves on the river and the U.S. flag waving in the breeze.  I sat down on a bench, looking at the building cumulonimbus clouds billowing up over the river.  Out on the river were many small sailboats darting back and forth.  These sailors are part of the Community Rowing Center.  I overheard one elderly gentleman proudly telling another women that his two grandchildren are out there as he watched them head towards the dock.  A young boy, wearing a CRC life jacket strolled past me, talking on his cell phone to presumably a parent.  Runners, drenched in sweat from this humid afternoon, ran down the  bridge ramp westwards towards the Citgo sign in the distance.  Looking at my watch, it was now 2:00 p.m., one hour from my train time.  I wanted to stroll along Charles Street in Boston, so I set off over the bridge, back to the Charles Street area.

Remembering the delicious honey-ginger-lemon ice tea from Mango Mango in Amherst this past week, I set off to look for perhaps a similar drink.  Charles Street represents some very good times and some very bad times for me.  The good memories involve my dear friend Jo-Ann who went to MGH’s School of Nursing in the late 70s and her housing at 20 Charles Street.  It was always fun to go and hang out there with her.  We got our ears pierced some where along that street.  The bad memories involve when my sister was dying.  I use to take breaks from MGH and strolled along Charles Street quite frequently.  I remembered a good cafe, so I set off to see if they served that a unique ice tea.  Finding the bakery, I was disappointed to find they only had bottled ice teas.  So, I headed back out onto Charles Street.  I passed many unique antique stores along my walk, before happening upon the Cafe Vanille.  There was non-bottled ice tea, so I purchased a cup of black ice tea and a strawberry biscotti and headed to the outside seating area to enjoy people-watching.  An elderly woman honked while scooting around the street corner on her hot pink scooter.  A tour bus stopped and I heard the narrator talking about slavery.  A little sparrow perched on the cast iron chair next to me, in search of the elusive crumbs.  I tried pretending that perhaps I was sitting at an outside cafe in Europe.  Checking my phone clock, I now had about 30 minutes to make my train.

Waiting at the corner, I decided to cross the street to see what was on the other side of Charles Street.  A cool children’s shop, an organic pet store, a Starbucks, a shop that had little stuffed “Westie” like dogs.  Mindful of the time, I did step into see what the little dogs cost.  They were stuffed “Tin Tins”, I believe a British children’s story.  The price was more than I was willing to pay, so I set off back down Charles Street to get over to North Station.  It was then that I spotted it out of the corner of my eye.  Another person was stopped, taking pictures of this store window.  Why would this window hold such interest?  It was full of unique, yes you guessed it, doorknobs.

A Store Window Full of DoorKnobs

I couldn’t believe my eyes.  For years, the fourth graders at my school have written a story right before taking the MCAS Long Composition about visiting the National Museum of Doorknobs.  (this museum, as far as I know, does not exist)  But here in front of me, on this now really humid and darkening August afternoon, was a plethora of door knobs.    Door knobs made of different materials such as pewter, brass, glass, and stone.  Elaborately decorated door knobs, beautiful green and blue door knobs.  These door knobs were pieces of art.  Again, I glanced at my clock and that 3:00 p.m. hour was getting closer.  So, I snapped a few photos, and now picked up my pace down Charles Street.

Heading back, I stopped to ponder about turning around and going back to the shop.  Perhaps purchasing one of these door knobs to have a reminder of the need to stop, slow down, and look around you.  No, I needed to get home.  I kept stopping, I really should get back, so what if I miss the 3:00 o’clock train? I kept thinking to myself.  No, can you only imagine what those door knobs cost?  Again and again, I stopped, turned around, to turn back towards the train.  ”You can’t afford a door

A Rainbow of Doorknobs

knob,” “You can afford a door knob,”  ”You should get home and tidy up,” You should go  back.”  For several city blocks, this self-talk continued until I actually did turn around to go back.  Two factors turned me back around towards the train.  One, the clouds were getting darker and darker.  If you know me well, you know the thing I am scared most of…. Two, on my left foot, I could feel a rather large blister forming on my little toe.  Okay, for now, you can print out a picture of the door knobs and then dedicated a Saturday in September to going back and picking out a doorknob.  Settling my self-battle, I did head back towards the train.

Looking out the train window, the storms pelted down around us.  It would not have been an enjoyable experience getting drenched.  (Later reports of hail in Boston solidified that this was a good decision on my part)  But, I did think about the importance of

Slug

slowing down and looking at the world around you.  Whether it be bicycles parked at a public lot, a slug hanging out on a decomposing branch, or a window full of door knobs, I am going to set one of my personal goals for this year to try and build this in on a more regular basis.  With the craziness of the school year soon set to begin once again, I need to take stock of what will make me a better teacher for my students.  I preach about the importance of giving my students some time at the river to sit and “zone”.  I need to preach for myself to allow myself time to zone, to not be so tied into a schedule, into a clock.  It is so easy to get totally sucked into being insanely busy, but I think it is hard to sometimes slow down, look around and admire those doorknobs.  A line from one of my favorite movies, “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” says “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”   So as my goal was last year to not compare my new “turtles” to my old “toads” http://305bcoaches.wordpress.com/2010/09/04/note-to-self-before-the-school-year-starts/ , my goal is this year to give both myself and my students the time to stop and look around you.  And BTW, I already have plans to go back to that door knob shop in September to give myself a door knob that will serve as that reminder.