A Lost Glove

6:30 a.m. "Keep me posted on how things go at the appointment, love you."

6:40 a.m. Drive to work

7:30 a.m. Arrive at work

8:35 a.m. My students arrive

8:46 a.m. Phone rings:

"Hey, what's up?"
"Do you want to hang out with me for the day?"
"Huh, I hadn't planned on it" I legitimately thought he was joking with me.
"Well, I'd like you to come. They are sending me to the ER by ambulance. They won't let me drive. There was a problem on the EKG."
"Give me 15 minutes, and I'll be on my way."

8:59 a.m. Get in the car and drive.
I forgot my water on my lectern. My mouth is dry, and my stomach feels like it might turn inside out. I really wish I could sip on some water, but I don't have time to stop. I just have to get there. 
9:55 a.m. Park the car

10:00 a.m. "Hi, who are you here to see?"
"My husband was just brought in by ambulance..."
"Okay, yes. Room 25. Go straight down this hallway to the end, turn left and it's on your right side."
I am so aware of my inability to focus that I am hyper-focused and I hear every direction, every sound, every conversation around me. Beeps echo like a slow-motion scene in a movie, and I stride with long steps to the end of the hall.

Time speeds up.
"Here, let me get you a chair."
Almost immediately I am told the EKG in the ER is fine. Bloodwork has already been done.

Wait.

Curtain.

"Hi, are you Shawn? Can you tell me your birthdate? I'm taking you for X-rays."

Loud bangs and jerks, the untangling of wires. We wave with little-unsettled grins, and he disappears down the hall.

On the floor is a single blue glove. Just there. Wasted. Hidden, now revealed.

I stare at it for a moment. 

More time passes. All results are good. Atypical symptoms. Stress test ordered for later. 

Like a wasted glove, I feel a bit lost. 

Click, Click, Click

Last night I was reading and commenting on slices while sitting in bed. It was late and my fingers were flying around on the keyboard as usual. My husband was next to me reading and I hadn't even noticed that he had begun staring at my hands.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the look on his face. I kept going. Then I noticed it again. I stopped.

"Is everything okay?" I asked with probably a pinched up look on my face-I was tired at this point so cut me some slack.
"Your hands are so...fast. Like, how are you even doing that?" His bewildered tone was humorous.

My husband and I grew up in the same town, went to the same school, and occasionally had classes together. In our high school, there was a typing class on super cool typewriters. Computers were few and far between at that time in the 90's, and word processors were probably still too expensive (but I seem to remember there might have been a few if you got lucky).

So my response to his question was, "I had typing in high school! So did you, don't you remember? We had a great typing teacher."
Then he says, "Um, that was an elective, I never took typing."
Insert my gasp in response to this revelation!
"WHAT? Why didn't you take typing? It was a great class, and I'm pretty sure my parents told me it was required, which now that I think about it might have just been their requirement, which by the way I am extremely thankful if it was because clearly, it paid off!" Insert breath, because that was a lot to say in one inhale.

To which launched a full-on discussion of all the classes we took in high school, electives, and memories. It was a fun conversation. It's fun being married to someone you have a lot of history with but that you didn't necessarily make all that history with. We were friends pretty much all through high school but didn't actually begin dating until the last month or two of my senior year, and he was already in college at that point. We have so many connections to different people and experiences. It's always fun and interesting to compare notes.

As far as typing, he needs more practice.

Honk from Behind

I began teaching in 2001 in an inner-city school. It wasn't until 2003 that we moved and I was hired to teach in a more rural district. I was realizing today that in my sixteen plus years as a teacher I have worked with four different superintendents and five principals. This is probably typical, and honestly, I think my husband has me beat. 

My current superintendent is in his second year within our district. I haven't been able to engage in many one-on-one conversations with him but what I will say is I have seen many interactions between him and students. It can be difficult to feel like you and a colleague or your leadership are on the same page, share the same beliefs about learning, unpack information in the same interpretive ways, or trust each other the way you should. It takes really knowing someone, and that can be difficult in a school setting if you are always under your own pile of "things to do." What I do know is actions, as many of us would believe, often offer more insight than an inspiring word or the latest jargon. Our superintendent, since he began, is present in our building multiple times each week. One of his most frequent reasons to visit is to stand in our parking lot as cars pull up to drop off kids. He opens doors, shakes hands, closes trunks, puts backpacks on kids, picks up dropped mittens, and most of all he smiles. He waves at the school buses, engages in chit-chat with the parents before they drive off, and is purposeful in all of these actions. 

On Friday, I received an all-staff email that included the following:

Opening car doors at FPE in the mornings, I have started noticing flocks of geese returning to their summer home. Here are some thoughts about what we can learn from geese: 

As each bird flaps its wings, it creates uplift for the bird immediately following. By flying in V formation the whole flock adds about 71% greater flying range that if each bird flew on his own.People who share a common direction and sense of community can get where they are going more quickly and easily because they are traveling on the thrust of another.When a goose falls out of formation, it suddenly feels a drag and resistance of trying to go it alone…and quickly…gets back into formation to take advantage of the lifting power of the bird in front.If we have as much sense as a goose we will stay in formation with those who are headed in the same way we are.When the Head Goose gets tired it rotates back in the wing and another goose flies point.It is sensible to take turns doing demanding jobs…with people or with geese flying south.Geese honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up their speed.What do we say when we honk from behind?Finally, and this is important, when a goose gets sick, or is wounded by gunshots, and falls out of formation, two other geese fall out with that goose and follow it down to lend help and protection. They stay with the fallen goose until it is able to fly or until it dies, and only then do they launch out, on their own, or with another formation, to catch up with their group.If we have the sense of a goose, we will stand together like that.

I responded with appreciation and requested to share it. He explained that not all the connections originated with him, but he had used it some thirty years ago.

Making comparisons is kind of how I wrap my head around understandings. I am always comparing ideas to something that might seem more tangible when talking to kids. As I read this and have been thinking about it, the one that resonates the most with me is geese honk from behind to share encouragement. Teachers, leaders, and educators everywhere are in need of encouragement. Intentionally noticing the niches of our colleagues and encouraging them to go farther is so important. Being passionate and excited as a teacher is what gets me through tough days. I am able to roll on my own momentum a bit. It's even better when I feel encouraged.

Knowing this bit of information will give me a smile the next time I see a v-formation and hear the honking. I might give my own little silent cheer to the lead goose.

Bits and Pieces

I've been on my computer multiple times today for multiple reasons. Every time I sat down to start a new task, I would say, "I should probably get my slice done and then work on x, y, or z." I would start, and then I would stop and work on the other task.

It began with a story about the new graphic novel Anne of Green Gables and how I loved watching those PBS specials as a kid. Now the story is written in a graphic novel format, and my daughter loves it.

Time passed, and I sat down again. This time I was listening to my son practice his cornet. As I was listening, I thought I would write about how much he has grown this year. I don't just mean in inches but in other areas too. His sound on that cornet is getting so good I can almost hear his pride with each note.

Late this afternoon I had to run out to the hardware store to return a garage door opener. As I drove there and back, a pretty short trip, I thought about writing a poem describing the maze-like dodging that takes place on Michigan roads right now. Some of the potholes on side streets around here are just downright dangerous. The lines whipped around in my head but never made it to a page or post.

This evening I talked with my sister on the phone. We were catching up and talking about lots of different topics, some of which cycled around world events. She talked about tackling her own causes to make the world a better place.

So many stories. Tomorrow I may write about geese in v-formation. I'm hoping to see some. That story was circling in my head today too but for different reasons. Until then these little bits and pieces will do just fine.

Unless

It's March and we started our annual March is Reading Month activities yesterday. I personally love many of the extras we do during the month of March. I feel like it gives us all (our students and ourselves) a burst at the end of a dull period. Sometimes the extras feel stressful but then I remind myself that deviations are good and sometimes taking yourself out of focus helps you re-focus with more clarity.  

One of the activities we typically do as a staff is decorate our door. We might choose a favorite book or some kind of reading-related topic and go crazy with crafts for an afternoon. Door decorating was taken off the menu of "extras" this year but some teachers in our building are continuing the tradition. A first-grade classroom down the hall from me is all decked out in orange, puffy trees, and Lorax like characteristics--a popular Dr. Seuss story.

When my kids were young, I didn't read a lot of Dr. Seuss books. They are classic but they were not my favorite picture books to read. When my son, now a seventh grader, was in first grade, his teacher was a Dr. Seuss fanatic. Her entire classroom was steeped in Dr. Seuss colors, characters, and themes from familiar stories. It was the year he was in first grade that the movie The Lorax first hit theatres and I remember him being excited. I remember going with him and feeling a sense of hope at the end of the film.

Last night I went to a movie screening put on by local organizations working to inform the community through education and support for teachers where I live. The movie Resilience, a documentary about Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) was available for educators and I decided to go watch as a mom and a teacher. It was one of those movies that hits you with science and hard to ignore cold facts that we would tend to repress and pretend don't exist. I knew this going in but I couldn't help feeling like my school community would butt the facts and respond with "what can we do?"

After the movie, the nearly packed theatre of teachers, community members, and those in healthcare had an open discussion about the film. There were bits of defeatest tone but for the most part many wanted to do something, they want to take what they know and somehow create actionary steps that help the children and their families who are suffering. One teacher stood up and said in so many words, "I won't be a worse teacher for having seen this. I might not know what I can do tomorrow, but maybe I can just be more effective for knowing." It gave me some hope. It reminded me of sitting in the theatre many years ago watching The Lorax with my wide-eyed six-year-old son as I watched and thought about the message of caring and doing.

Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not. ~Dr Seuss, The Lorax

My Baker

It is the end of a long day. A long day with very few problems, which is quite wonderful.

I didn't get home until around seven this evening. After a quick phone call to my mom, a hair tie, and a drink of water I'm finally sitting. My daughter and I love to watch baking shows. So I am sitting on my couch watching Kids Baking Championship on Hulu.

If I'm being honest, I am not the best baker. I enjoy eating baked things. I enjoy having baked--because I enjoy eating baked things. However, measuring ingredients, eh...not my cup of tea. I'd rather mix up something delicious with a little whimsy and the plan can be the inspiration, not the rule. My daughter, however, LOVES to bake. She is a baker extraordinaire. Since she became old enough to do several steps on her own I love letting her loose on cupcakes, muffins, and cookies. Her creativity pours out when she gets going with frosting and sprinkles. I pride myself on being her professional taster.

At the end of this long and lovely month of writing, I will likely share a picture or two of my little baker. Her birthday is at the end of the month and she loves to make a treat for school. I'm never sure what she'll come up with and there are lots of indecisive ideas along the way until she lands on one. We'll see if this show ends up inspiring some baking experiences in the future!

Bikes Wait

Wisps of February wave
while three bikes wait.

Windows squeak
like the seal of a jar.

Sunlight streams
striping the wall

Motes float like starlight and
spring is marching in.


Today the temps hit sixty. Ah, it was such a breath of freshness. The sun felt like butter on my skin when it came through my window. I walked outside for a moment at lunchtime and as I walked back in the doors I noticed three bikes parked. I imagined kiddos waking up this morning, checking the weather and running to grab their bike for school. A sure sign that spring is within reach.