When it snows
With the inclement weather as of late, I’ve heard a lot of talk about how we teachers react to snow days. Personally, I love ‘em. I can’t imagine not loving them. Any constraint I might show at the announcement (or anticipation) of a snow day might cause some serious medical problems. Instead, I scream and shout and – for the 5 minutes following the news – get a little crazy. If I had hair to let, I’d let it all down.
But that’s just me. I have no doubt that there are others out there (teachers, leaders, even students and certainly parents) who aren’t as joyous. They have their reasons: students need to learn, we don’t want a longer school year, where am I going to find a sitter at this hour? Fine reasons, indeed. Worthy of attention and thought and reflection, these concerns are real and, to an extent, I share them.
Take for example the fear that our students are not learning today. First of all, I think it’s awfully presumptive of you to think they can’t learn without you. They are totally learning. They are exploring their neighborhoods and homes during times when they usually are tucked away in classrooms, behind books and indoors. They are interacting with people and spending time with family who they really don’t see that much during the week. It’s awesome. They will probably get into fights and resolve them. They are probably watching a daytime talk show that’s about some interesting dilemma. They are probably making their own snacks and lunch with what they can find in the fridge and cupboard. Sure there’s no accountability or word walls where they are right now, but there’s definitely something happening. It sounds like I’m making excuses, but I’ve got to believe this isn’t time wasted.
I could even see myself, thought – on something like the tenth consecutive snow day – getting a bit agitated. But today, right now, on our third snow day of the year, I feel relief. The largest contributing factor of that relief is that we, as teachers, work really hard. I find myself exhausted on a daily basis, and not because I don’t take care of myself or manage my time. In fact, I’ve got a pretty balanced life. Yet, the energy output during the school day is such that I return home completely deflated, emotionally drained and ready for a quiet night akin to what old men do in retirement. That is my reality. And so when I get news of the possibility of more rest, it’s satisfying. It has nothing to do with a hatred of my job. It’s not that I don’t want to be at school. It’s that I want to be at home. I suppose those are related, but I posit the relationship is more complicated than we make it.
Let’s not be confused: when I shout for joy it’s not because I hate my job. It’s because I love myself.
With that said, I hear there’s a snow storm coming on Wednesday.
- Jeff
16 days later…
It’s not that I haven’t been inspired to reflect or to get on here and post about this or that. I’m usually inspired on a daily basis. In fact, I just looked up and saw this and felt pretty motivated. I think I just needed a break. A break from anticipating the next day, from catching up with to-do lists and scrounging for time to run or cook or clean. I’ve mostly decompressed from the school year, and it’s time to redirect a few things.
I haven’t taken a true summer break since the two months following my high school graduation. I’ve either been abroad or interning or researching or learning how to be a teacher. So six years later, I’ve decided to take two months to myself. No supervisors, no schedules, and, yes, no money. But being a teacher means a continuous paycheck and thus the ability to have a little fun on my school’s dime.
But my true summer break wasn’t a concerted effort to actually take a break. In fact, I tried to fill these 8 weeks with something more meaningful and productive. I applied to four different programs or internships and to no avail. Deflating my ego is one thing, but seriously – nothing? Did I not just teach in urban Philadelphia for two years? Did I not also simultaneously take classes and earn a teaching certificate and M.S. in Education? Did I not just work my ass off proving to myself that I was capable of just about anything? Yes, I think I did. But only to find, apparently, all that experience was not quite what they’re looking for.
Bitter? Me? No…not at all. Just wondering what all this means and where I’ll end up next. So in the spirit of being self-made, I’m taking this summer to myself. And don’t go thinking I’m just gonna do yoga and watch movies and eat all summer. I’ve got a few plans that might just make this a more meaningful and productive summer than any internship or office job could offer. And trust me, you’ll be hearing all about it.
It feels good to be back.
- Jeff
Visualizing the oil
I’ve been reading a lot about the BP oil spill lately, and crossed this website, which is helping people like me and you visualize the size and scope of the spill itself. It uses data about the spill’s breadth and maps it onto the zip code you choose using google maps. It offers a fresh perspective. Take a look for yourself.
- Jeff
Self help
I have a bad habit. More than a bad habit, it’s an ugly habit.
Some people bite their nails. Others can’t stop shaking their legs sitting down.
I do this to my thumbs. (and yes, that is me)
It’s a combination of picking your cuticles and biting your nails. I’ve been unable to kick the habit since the 6th grade. I actually remember the day it started. I was showing off some weird hand trick with my fingers and a group of kids started making fun of me. And at that moment, I retreated and it began.
Over the years, it started to actually feel good – a repetitious movement that could both distract me from something nerve racking and provide a sense of control when I was out of it. Sometimes it gets so bad I bleed. Pale skinned band aids are my hallmark product. I’ve probably worn out thousands since middle school.
But as embarrassing and annoying as it is, I still do it. I’ve tried to stop so, so many times. I’ve filed the rough edges of my skin, carried around lotion to keep things smooth, used band aids and gels to cover them, and tried to develop other, less harmful habits to take its place. I even made it a challenge for one of my students to catch and stop me in the act. Nothing has worked.
For 12 years, half my life, I’ve been doing this to myself. I want to stop. I need to stop. And I’m coming to you here for some help. While I welcome any advice and tips you have, by simply making it public I’m hoping to face it like I never have before. My thumbs are usually shy around others – you won’t catch a glimpse unless you’re really looking. But hiding isn’t giving me any inspiration to stop.
So, there it is. I said it and I showed it. And while you might be a little disgusted, I hope you can take part in helping me overcome whatever it is that’s causing me to do this. If you’re a friend, bring it up. If your a stranger, check in with me. I’ll be posting updates every now and then through the summer in an effort to stay conscious and work toward breaking the habit.
If this is sounding like a cry for help, it is.
- Jeff
1891
I’m an observant person. I tend to notice things when they are changed. Come in my room and move a few things, a book or a frame’s angle, and I’ll probably say something to myself. Something like, “that looks different.” Anyway, there’s something I’ve noticed a lot lately and I just have to say something about it.
I was updating a profile for an online purchase and had to input the usual personal info they ask for when you update things like that. Name, sex, birthdate, etc. And I noticed something funny about the birthday years.
Then, earlier today I was making a purchase on Southwest.com and noticed it again.
So I checked facebook and there it was.
All different. And without an explanation I can fathom.
You see, all these sites provide varied years that you can choose as your actual year of birth. The 12 month, 31 day option is standard, but it’s all up in the air when you click and scroll down to choose a year.
Southwest, for example:
1891. Weird, huh? Then I got to thinking, maybe they base it on the oldest person alive. That way, their options would be inclusive of all people on earth. Makes sense. Well, made sense to me.
So, naturally, I looked up the oldest person in the world. And they were not born in 1891. They were born in 1896. Her name is Eugenie Blanchard and she lives in France. I swear.
Maybe Southwest is just really making sure not to leave anyone out. Then again, that 5 year gap between the oldest living person and the 1891 scroll down option might just be for the hell of it.
To make things more complicated, I checked facebook. Their cutoff, to my surprise, was 1900. Now, the century-mark makes more sense than 1891, but then again, they’re leaving some folks out. No matter their reasons (it’s probably up to the engineer who makes the software), I’ll never stop wondering, or scrolling down to check each time I enter my birthdate. It will haunt me as a habit until I die.
And I can’t help but feel kinda bad for Eugenie. She can never have a real facebook account. She can fly, though, and that is something.
- Jeff
14 to 24 to 34
I was only 14 during the last census, so I don’t really remember much about it. Undoubtedly counted in my family household, I didn’t really participate. I do remember, though, reading through 2000 census data tables during college. There was a lot of information in those numbers, and so I’ve really enjoyed being a conscious citizen (and 24 years of age) during the most recent enumeration of our country’s population. I’ve also found it to be the perfect teaching opportunity. Just like the recent Presidential election, I had to take advantage of teaching the census since it doesn’t come around all that often.
And so I tied the census into my African American History curriculum and explained the relationship between representation and the 3/5th clause during slavery. I also got to bring in a guest speaker from the census, and copied my blank census form for the kids to fill out. They walked away with a good understanding of its purpose and history, and we had some fun with the same numbers I crunched in college. All in all, a good opportunity to think about the intersection between history and the real world.
Just last week, I found this great website by the Census Bureau that shows the participation rate at national and local levels. You can even zoom in on your county or neighborhood (they call it a tract) and see the percentage of people who have turned in their census. It even compares your neighborhood’s participation to the last census, and to the state and national average. Color-coded for ease of comparison, the colorful map can tell stories on its own. Scrolling through Philadelphia’s map, I can compare a wealthy neighborhood, like my neighborhood (58-67% submitted), to a low-income area, like the neighborhoods along Broad street (33-38% submitted). Take a gander and play around a bit. You’ll probably be surprised by how much fun the census can be.
It’s strange to think that the next time the census rolls around, I’ll be 34. And my students – the same ones who scream when someone farts – will be 24.
- Jeff
Dream big
Children’s books have the capacity to make complex ideas more simple, colorful and sometimes, even more meaningful. By simplifying the large issues of the day, children’s books articulate a clear message and leave the rest up to the reader. Interpretation of the pictures and scant text is not the job of the author – it’s an exercise of the imagination.
So you can imagine my excitement when I found a new children’s book to fawn over. I stumbled upon this book last week when my friend Selica mentioned it from her travels abroad. She is currently living South Korea – where An Awesome Book has apparently spread like wildfire. The author made a short video about his journey to writing the book – a story of humble a guy who wanted to write a book about dreaming for his son. The final product is beautiful. Colorful and imaginative illustrations fill each page, and the message (although somewhat contrived) has something refreshing about it. It didn’t feel like any other children’s book – it felt like something meant for grown ups.
By the end, his message is this: that dreaming is a skill that shouldn’t be wasted on tangible things like money and goods. Instead, he wants kids to give up those wants in pursuit of dreams that inspire action and fun. It reminded me of a quote Diana (another friend abroad) sent me.
“At every level the greatest obstacle to transforming the world is that we lack
the clarity and imagination to conceive that it could be different.”
- Roberto Unger
Just reminds you that dreaming isn’t just for kids or the naive. It’s for everyone.
He has posted the entire book here for you to read – and buy if you feel the inspiration. He donates one book to the public for every book purchased online.
Here’s a little sneak peek:
Awards & honors
Congratulations are in order. I found this on my desk at the end of a long, hard day. And I didn’t even know I was nominated. Despite its lack of objectiveness and legitimacy, that it’s written on scratch paper horizontally and my name is spelled wrong, I’m considering listing it on my resume. Someone might believe it. She apparently does.
It’s strange how sentimental things like this can make my day. Too easy to please? Maybe. But if your looking to cheer me up, take a cue from Jazmine.
- Jeff
The future
“Whohohoho, the future is looking a whoooole lot better.”
- Dr. Emmett Brown (Back to the Future)
I read somewhere a long time ago that visualizing your goals can have a positive effect on actually realizing them. My aunt used to put a picture of something that represented her goal next to her bed and she just glanced at it every day. It was a way of reminding herself that there was something out there still to do. Something to work toward. It could have been a big life goal or a small one. I don’t really remember how she did it, but her story really stuck with me.
Sometime last year, I started a Future bookmark tab on my browser to keep track of things that I want to do one day. It ranges from grad schools to foster agencies to summer plans. There’s really no rhyme or reason for what I put there – just whatever strikes my fancy. I take things down when they don’t resonate anymore, but I’ve found it a really powerful way of committing to the goals I set for myself. Like a long-term to do list, the Future bookmarks are little reminders that there is something out there still to do. Something to work toward.
- Jeff
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