One Word at a Time

There was a young woman who was finishing out the best year of her life. She had gotten married that summer to the young man of her dreams - a man who loved her, celebrated her, made her laugh, understood and enjoyed her quirks and balanced her out.  Their wedding had been a fairy tale - even a frog made an appearance near the fountain late in the night, seemingly waiting for its kiss. Her friends and family were supportive, caring, and fun. The hoopla surrounding the wedding proved to her time and time again how creative and lovable this bunch of people was!  Both sides of the family came together like puzzle pieces, and friends became family, and family became friends. She was loving her job right now. A perfect mix of organization, problem solving, high standards, and the medical field, it played to all her strengths. The path here had been anything but conventional, yet it was working out better than she could believe. What could be better? ~*~ But w...

"Look at the Fox! He looks like a policeman!" "That hippo is huge! Look at his butt!" Reading Chicken Little (the Stephen Kellogg version) to Kindergarten today was quite an experience. After working so long with fourth graders, who while engrossed in the Read Aloud are fairly quiet, it was a notable difference. By the time students got to me in fourth grade, they knew how to sit and listen to a Read Aloud. But it took a long while and some undoing of old habits to get them to engage in a Read Aloud again. To be swept away in a story, to exclaim in shock or awe, to moan and groan and beg to skip recess to just read one more chapter. I wish for every child to be as engrossed in stories as my Kindergarteners were today. It was a whole lot of fun!

My head is still spinning. 8:30-9:30 ~ The spinning began slowly, as one of my grade levels started the day by chatting about the work ahead of us for the rest of the year. I ended that meeting by considering the options ahead of us and shifting my thinking a little bit. 9:30-10:05 ~ The pace picked up, as I spent some time reflecting with a colleague about some of the work I've been doing and the work ahead of me. I walked away from that meeting with two strong action steps for myself, as well as a few new resources/strategies to add to my toolkit. 10:13-10:40 ~ After a quick bathroom break and dropping my materials on my desk, I headed to a classroom, where I observed the Connection/Teach, and modeled the Active Engagement and Link. The teacher and I debriefed, reflected, and set some future goals while students worked. I walked away while starting to plan in my head for Monday's work. 10:40-10:50 ~ Returning to my office, where thankfully my officemate had a ...

Most teachers I know don't love planning. It's their least favorite part of teaching, the part that takes a lot of time and a lot of energy - and then you have to go teach . Not me. Planning is my absolute favorite part of teaching, and probably the part I miss the most (now that I'm a coach) - along with seeing my plans in action and, of course, reading out loud with my students. There's nothing like a carefully laid plan. How can I get/keep their attention and engagement? How can I put the responsibility for their learning on them? How can I get them to reflect on their process/progress/engagement/interactions? Thinking about all of those things, then implementing them, then observing/reflecting/analyzing how impactful it all was, and doing it all again the next day? That was my lifeblood as a teacher. I had the opportunity this afternoon to share some of that energy and excitement with a teacher I'm working with. It got me excited to go into work tomorr...

I cried.      I cried at the bar. I cried at the bar, surrounded by faces.      I cried at the bar, surrounded by known and unknown faces. I cried at the bar, surrounded by known and unknown faces, as it sunk in.      I cried at the bar, surrounded by known and unknown faces, as it sunk in - he is leaving. I cried at the bar, surrounded by known and unknown faces, as it sunk in - he is leaving, and so is she.      I cried at the bar, surrounded by known and unknown faces, as it sunk in - he is leaving, and so is she, and they'll be gone. I cried at the bar, surrounded by known and unknown faces, as it sunk in - he is leaving, and so is she, and they'll be gone, off to the West Coast.      I cried at the bar, surrounded by known and unknown faces, as it sunk in - he is leaving, and so is she, and they'll be gone, off to the West Coast; time is fleeting. I cried at the bar, surrounded by known a...

Ring ring, ring ring, ring ring . . . "He's not answering. He's such a deep sleeper, he probably won't wake up." Ring ring, ring ring, ring ring . . . "Maybe try FaceTiming him," Emily suggested.  "It will make a different noise, and maybe that will wake him up." Bring bring, bring bring, bring bring . . . "I'm going to pull off the highway.  I don't like that sound - I just know it isn't right - so I'll pull off and turn it off and let it sit for a little bit.  Maybe that will help.  But keep trying.  Maybe through Facebook?  Can't you call through there now?" As the signal light blinked on and off, the silence was noticeable.  Where, five minutes earlier, you could hear the sound of two voices trying to sing along to Mariah Carey's anthem, All I Want for Christmas Is You, now there was nothing.  All ears were tuned to the engine and the noise it was making. "That definitely doesn't soun...

To me, this is about restraint. When I was a baby, there was no such thing as restraint!  When I loved something, I screeched, grabbed, scooted, kissed - I was completely overtaken by my love and wanted to tell the world.  My heart was literally on the outside of my body, reminding me of the term "wear your heart on your sleeve." Over time, restraint was a learned skill.  Somehow, through direct teaching or modeled behavior, I learned to "control" my emotions. When I saw something I liked, it was no longer "appropriate" to screech, grab, kiss. I still felt the same rush of emotion and joy - but it was half inside and half outside - still a smile, a laugh, a hug. Now, as an adult, restraint is a part of everything.  I shouldn't laugh too loud or too long, I shouldn't hold too hard, squeeze too tight.  Often we are reminded of something we love by a comment, a smell, an image.  And as we grow older, the amount of things we love, and ca...