More than just French...

My school is in the middle of its rechartering review. There are people here from the Department of Elementary and Secondary Education (DESE) attending meetings, holding focus groups, interviewing people and sitting in on classes. If you're in the building, you can see them coming and going, here and there, trying to take in all the weirdness that is my school's average way of being. I don't see them all that much, though. It's rare that my classes are observed during these reviews. I think this must be because Introductory French or Spanish is assumed to be bland, basic or uninteresting. I guess, if you took language from anyone else, anywhere else, that would be a fair assumption, but this is my school and I am me. Let me assure you that my classes are far from the average.

One brave member of the review committee figured this out today. He stopped in during my long block class just as they were about to put on their interpretive dance of adjectives (they’ve been learning all about describing words this week, as well as how to use non-verbal language to support the words they use). My visitor, dressed all official-like in a suit and tie, came into the classroom as my first group was setting up. I welcomed him--the first such visitor I’ve seen in several years--and I explained what the class was up to. It needed an explanation because my students were spread all over the room and out into the hallway, and it must have looked quite the sight to see them blocking out their movements everywhere.

He took a seat out of the way and my class settled in as well to watch the first performance. The first group’s interpretive dance, which was accompanied by the music from the Sherlock Holmes movie, incorporated the French words for cocky, strong, intelligent, unique, obnoxious, brave and happy, as well as a word they looked up, afraid. None of the students in this group was a dancer, but all together they created a thoroughly engaging, detailed and well-prepared presentation of their understanding of what we’ve been learning. The applause was enthusiastic (as is usually the case), and we moved right into a review of these words and how the group communicated them without words.

My observer left at that point, I'm sure to go to yet another meeting. I think he left a bit shell-shocked, but absolutely impressed by what he saw. He could come into pretty much any class on pretty much any day and leave pretty much the same way.

I'm sorry I don't get more visitors in my classes. My students to such amazing things all the time, and it's a little sad that the only person who gets to see it most of the time is I. If you're ever in the neighborhood, stop on by. Come watch my class. Seriously, you will leave just like the DESE will tomorrow--a little shell-shocked, but absolutely impressed!

10 Things Tuesday: Great Words (not in English)

I once found a website (now defunct) that used to share words from other languages that had no exact equivalent in English. It got me thinking about words I knew in other languages that I found beauty or value in because of the thoughts they communicated. I speak six languages with varying degrees of proficiency, but to come up with ten words I knew that really had a depth of meaning unmatched by my native tongue was a real challenge. This post has taken me a while to put together.

1. Ganas (Spanish). Ganas can be translated as “feel like” to express a general inclination, but as a cultural gestalt, ganas carries so much more meaning than that. It is desire, heart. It is to be singular of purpose and intent. It represents a kind of conviction that “want” simply doesn’t communicate. I heard this word used to best effect by Edward James Olmos, who played Jaime Escalante in the movie Stand and Deliver.

“You're going to work harder here than you've ever worked anywhere else. And the only thing I ask from you is ganas. Desire. If you don't have the ganas, I will give it to you because I'm an expert.”

I preach that to my students every day in the classroom, and I work hard to be the same inspiration to my students Escalante was to his.

2. Disinvolto (Italian). To be disinvolto is to be relaxed, casual, easygoing, self-confident and a little cheeky--all at the same time. I love this word because it represents all I strive to be in my best moments!

3a/3b. Celibe/Nubile (Italian). I find it amusing that these two cognates (words similar in both languages) apply to males and females respectively, but in English they both mean the same thing. They describe someone who is “single”.

4. Flâner (French). This verb, which nowadays means simply to stroll, has its origins in the rather curious tradition of walking turtles down the street in Paris. The turtles set the speed of travel, so observationism (that’s not really a word) was almost forced. The world became a feast for the senses! A flâneur is perfectly well aware of their slow, leisurely behavior, but isn’t concerned; it’s all about the journey, especially if it’s unhurried.

5. Schwangerschaftverhütungsmittel (German). The German language is, to say the least, very comfortable with compound words. They look frightening if you’re not used to seeing them, don’t they? My college German professor told me, though, that most longer German words are made up of several shorter words put together, which makes them easy to figure out--if you understand where the smaller words are, that is. Here’s the breakdown: Schwangerschaft (pregnancy) + verhütung (prevention) + mittel (remedy). In other words, a contraceptive. Of course, with a word that long, by the time you actually get through it to ask someone to use one, it might be too late.

6. Tao (Chinese). A popular word in English, many books have been written with the opening words, “The Tao of...” At its most rudimentary, it means “way” or “path” but, as a term of philosophy it is used to describe (as closely as any word can) the authentic and true nature of things. The thing about tao, though, is that it can’t properly be expressed. Taoism would purport that we can know it, that its principles can be followed, but there is an inherent futility in trying to understand or control it outright. This seeming contradiction is one reason I enjoy studying--and practicing--Buddhism and Taoism.

7. Nunchi (Korean). This is a simple word for the ability to sense what would be the wrong thing to say in a situation--and, by extension, the ability to resist saying it. It goes beyond tact or simple manners; it is the ability to read an audience and instinctively, immediately know what’s appropriate. Nunchi is a great thing to have, especially at parties. I wish I had more of it.

8. Desenrascanço (Portuguese). There is, in Portuguese culture, a great deal of value placed upon the ability to solve a problem without the right tools, training or know-how. To spontaneously draw on your imagination and whatever resources you have at hand to figure out what’s “good enough” is a quality many Portuguese believe is essential to living in their world. It is even taught in colleges! Desenrascanço (literally, disentangling) is the sweet spot of workable that exists between what works perfectly and what will blow up in your face. I heard this described somewhere as “to pull a MacGyver”. That seems appropriate.

9. Schlimazl (Yiddish). I only recently learned that this word meant “someone who is unlucky”. I heard it used first in the theme to the show Laverne and Shirley along with the word “schlemeil”, which refers to a person who is clumsy. Robert Kuttner put the two terms in context for me with the following: “A schlemiel is the traveler who spills his coffee on a fellow passenger. A schlimazel is the fellow he spills it on.” With that explanation, a mystery of many years was instantly made clear. Now I have to go find the theme to Laverne and Shirley and listen to it!

10a and 10b. Tatemae and Honne (Japanese). These two related terms refer respectively to what you pretend to believe and what you actually believe. I love that Japanese culture, with its high degree of reserve, recognizes that there is a difference between what we actually believe and what we're allowed to admit we believe. The closest we have to this is the term “political correctness”, but this term carries a certain distain that simply doesn’t exist in the equivalent in Japanese. From what I know of it, Japanese culture seems not to view the dichotomy as a source of angst or stress. Neither is more true or honest than the other. Rather, they are simply two sides of the same reality. It is, it seems, just the way the world works. I like that view of it.

Monday Meditation: Aspiration and Introspection

I had a wonderful conversation with my father this past weekend about the nature of happiness. We often talk about things like that over the phone; it’s one of my dad’s favorite things to do. We sit at either end of the phone, each with a cup of coffee, and we just chew away on the problems of the universe. Over all, a perfectly pleasurable way to pass the better part of an hour.

Anyway, one of the things we both agreed on about happiness was that, as a condition of realizing it, we cannot understate the importance of aspirations and the daily work of trying to discover and nurture our authentic selves. As we were mulling this point, I began to wonder how many people even have aspirations. This brought me immediately to a conversation from the week before with a student, a senior, who was in the process of applying for colleges. It was a beautiful fall day, and Maureen was sitting at a picnic table outside by the door I use to enter the building. She was scratching her head, clearly wrestling with something she was writing. When I asked what she was working on, she said that one of the questions on the college application she was completing asked her to describe a moment of introspection she’d had. She asked for some help, so I offered suggestions about where to look in her past experience, but as we talked I began to discover that Maureen simply didn’t have any to draw on.

I have to be honest here; this surprised me greatly. I mean, I’ll admit that I spend rather a great deal of time in the practice of introspection, so it’s not so out of place that Maureen would not engage in the practice to quite the same degree. I also recognize that it’s not common to find teenagers to do it because they are only just beginning to reach a stage of development that allows for such things. I guess it just caught me that, after nearly 18 years of existence on this planet, it wasn’t possible for her to recall even a single moment on which we looked back and think about what she’d just experienced. Is it possible, I think now as I write this, that she just doesn’t know how?

There is a connection between introspection and aspiration. They each, in their own way, connect our inner selves to the outer world. When we work to move our internal selves closer to our aspirations through introspection, we are changing external reality, bringing together that potential we see in ourselves and the world of which we are a part. There is not supposed to be a distinction between “self” and “other” (yes, I know that sounds incongruous). Some of the most important work we can do as participants in the human experience is to lessen the gap between the two. I like Sonia Johnson’s take on this:

“When we seize power in our own world, the outer world will have to change.” (1987)

I offer, then, the opportunity to take a moment and engage in introspection. Sit and think about a moment in your life for a few minutes. It doesn’t matter when the moment occurred, or how important it was at the time. Just let your mind rest on one and allow it to sit there in the center of your awareness. Not too long, mind you. We have lives, after all. When distraction starts to take over, get up and, if you have time, find a piece of paper. If you like to write, write about your thoughts. If you like to draw, do that. If you’d rather move and do something that puts into action your thoughts, then so be it. For a few moments, just do with the moment still at center. When you’ve done, however long you’ve taken, set it aside. Sometime later this week, go back and look at what you did. What do you think?

I’m all about providing exemplars for stuff like this, so I’ll work on it over the next day or two and share what comes.

Happy Monday!

The Week in Quotes, to ease back into the habit

Things in my world are settling into a routine finally. Classes are rolling along as they should, Wayfarer House is fully engaged in the routines of the school year. The soccer season is kicking along without any major issues. I've been looking forward for some time to picking this back up, but there always seems to be something bumping it down on the list of things my day must see accomplished. I'm sorry it's taken so long.

Since it's Sunday, I thought I'd reinstate the wildly popular Sunday quotes post. This week's collection comes from all over, and represents only a few of the many worthy things I've heard from my students since the school year started. This year's group is going to be great for material! Enjoy.

“To work for one. *I* work for one.” Mark, in discussion how someone’s day could not get worse than being attacked by dementors.

“There’s no u, the two s’s are together, and there’s an o and an i. I was close!” Karly, verifying her spelling of the word “croissant”.

“Haha, I got your problem!! *whiplash noise*” Brian. Added to the list surreptitiously by my TA while sitting at my desk during class.

“Brian explained French grammar to me in English, using Spanish examples. It hurt.” Julia, in a note left on my laptop.

“Quiet up there! I need to get to sleep. I have phys ed tomorrow.” Pearl, age 5.

“They were just so hairy!” Sydney, after her first game against a high school boys soccer team.

“She almost gave it to me for lunch!” NiNi, of Mama’s inadvertent, yet fully prepared mayonnaise and honey sandwich.

‎"There's no dryer sheets. Now my clothes are gonna smell like dry!" Shayla.

“I know your sister kicked you three times trying to take the ball from you, but you can’t just kick her back. Soccer is about kicking the ball, my love, not about kicking the people.” Coach Papa, to Taylor at the end of a friendly, but contentious game of U10 town league footy.

“They’d better start fundraising now.” Wifeness, about students expressing an interest in Wayfarer House leading a student trip to Europe in 2012.

“Wow! I’m not a teenager anymore.” Karla, whose birthday is today. Happy birthday, love!

I’m back. Trip was great!

I’ll post pics soon. The WiFi at the house is dead (I think the humidity killed the router while I was gone), so I have to sit near the modem with an Ethernet cable to send and receive (I’m doing email and such in batches). Hopefully, we’ll be back to warp speed in a couple of days.

I have a list of stuff to do that must be 1½ pages. I’m going to shorten it some, then come back here.

Until then, let me introduce you to someone I met along the way. I never did get his name. He was quite friendly, though. I think he wanted to eat my gloves.

Stage 4: Stowe to Enosburg Falls, VT.

The highlight of this leg of my journey is the climb to Smuggler’s Notch. In the early 1800s, the US Congress placed an embargo on the imports of all English goods in an attempt to avoid becoming involved in the wars declared against the French Empire under Napoleon. The British circumvented the embargoby simply shipping their food, clothing and medical supplies to Canada and smuggling the materials down the Long Trail and through what is now called Smugglers’ Notch Pass. The geology of the pass is, apparently, well suited for smuggling because of its remoteness and the fact that it is laced with many caves and caverns which served as hideaways and could be used to store goods and supplies. For well over 100 years, Smugglers’ Notch was used to transport illegal goods into and out of the United States -- from cattle to slaves to alcohol, during the Prohibition Era. The caves are good for storing illegal alcoholic beverages at near room temperature, or so I’ve read.

After I’ve climbed the Notch, I have just 30 miles to ride before I arrive at Carol and Pete’s. They’re hosting the Morrison Family Reunion this year and have, for the second time, offered lodging to our family at this event. Their property is 1/10 mile from the Canadian border (the last time we were up there, we snuck across through the woods for just long enough that the helicopters came out looking for us -- it was very exciting). By that time, I will have crossed over covered bridges, coasted past cornfields and grazing cows, taken in a landscape dotted by churches with tall steeples and 18th-century brick houses behind white picket fences. I will probably race at least one farmer on a tractor and more than a few old timers will stare at me from their dilapidated porches. I will ride quietly though more than one quaint village, but I will also see more than my share of metropolitan New England. Although I will miss several sites of historic interest because they are not on my direct path, I feel like I will finally get to know the state where I spent 5 years of my life--a period of time not nearly long enough to shed the term “flatlander,” as Vermonters call everyone who hails from across state lines.

Stage 3: Rutland to Stowe, VT.

This ride is entirely along SR 100, which is widely recognized to be among the best routes in New England for viewing fall foliage (there won’t be any on my ride, not that I’d notice much of it anyway). It cuts right through the backbone of Vermont, and is said to have spectacular mountain views along its entire length. A string of picturesque little lakes runs along the road, and Moss Glen Falls, just north of Granville, is said to be home to one of the prettiest waterfalls in Vermont. Route 100 grew organically from the many miles of dirt roads that connected villages dating back to the 1700s. Vermont has about 8,000 miles of unpaved roads (only about 6,000 miles of roadway are paved in the state). To a lot of Vermonters, an unpaved road is still a better road. I think this must be because people go more slowly and are more courteous on a dirt road an, in rural Vermont, that's what life wants to be. It probably also matters that dirt roads are far cheaper to maintain than their more modern counterparts. I enjoy dirt roads, to be sure, but I won't be riding any on this trip, if I can avoid it. As primarily a road cyclist, I must confess that I'm grateful for pavement. It is smoother to ride on, less taxing to my body and less destructive to my bike.

As SR 100 transformed into a single byway in the 1800s, the quintessential wooden covered bridge many associate with Vermont country roads began to appear. The primary purpose of the cover on a bridge was to provide added durability; uncovered bridges made of wood would get wet from rain and snow, and this would attract insects and fungus which would cause the wood to rot away quickly. Most, in fact, would have to be replaced every five years. Covered bridges offered other benefits, as well, though. The interiors of covered bridges apparently doubled as a local bulletin board of sorts, and travellers could read advertisements, notices and announcements as they waited out rainstorms or gave their teams of horses a rest in the shade.

This is the longest stage of the ride at just over 72 miles, and the elevation change is subtly demanding. I’ll be looking forward to passing through Waterford (63 miles along) so I can keep my eyes out for the Ben & Jerry’s Factory Store. I will have earned a very large cone of something fattening by that point. If I’m lucky, I’ll also be meeting Wifeness & Co. on their way up. We haven’t worked the details out yet, but it would be a lot of fun to see them there!

Stage 2: Bellows Falls to Rutland, VT.

Most of this part of the trip is along SR 103, which varies in quality somewhat, but represents some wonderful scenery. One landmark of particular note along this route is The Old Rockingham Meeting House, the oldest public building in original condition in Vermont. It recalls days of old in New England, when town meetings and church services were held in the same building and there were only homesteads, not concentrated towns and villages like we’re used to today. The late 18th century structure is a rare standing example of Georgian architecture, and it comes complete with its original box pews and ornate woodwork. Like all early New England meeting houses, the Old Rockingham building served both the religious and the governmental life of a widespread community, much like an assembly hall. It was visible for miles because of its hillside location, and provided an important social monument in early town life in Vermont.

I’m hotelling it from here on, but I’m excited that I’ll get to see Erica for dinner in the evening. Erica is an alumna of mine and a veteran of my 2002 trip leading students to France. She lives near Rutland and works at Castleton State College. With so many of my students in their twenties now, it’s a rare treat to be able to connect with them in person unless they happen to live nearby. I’m very much looking forward to spending some quality time with a student I’ve not seen in entirely too long.

I expect I'll get to see some of Rutland before dinner. The original Rutland was chartered in 1761 as part of New Hampshire land grants given by Provincial Governor Benning Wentworth. Almost immediately, however, a controversy arose with New York, who claimed the same land grants under the name of Socialborough. This dispute ultimately led to settlers of the territory to form the Republic of Vermont (statehood would follow). I find this interesting because we have talked tongue-in-cheek for some time about encouraging western Massachusetts to secede from the state and join with Vermont, with whom we share a great deal of culture and social values than we do with our more urban brethren to the east. Vive la Republique!

Stage 1: Wayfarer House to Bellows Falls, VT.

Through Northfield, MA and Hinsdale, NH, this part of the ride follows the Connecticut River for long stretches. This part of New England was settled by the English in the late 17th century, but the territory was fiercely defended by Native Americans for some 80 years after that. English settlements were constantly at risk of raids by “savages”, and colonists were regularly killed or taken north to Quebec (to be held as hostages by the French). This caused settlements such as Northfield to revert to American Indian control on more than one occasion.

In April, 1747, during the French and Indian War, a party of French and Mohawk, having been turned back after a three-day attack on the fort at Charlestown, NH, made their way toward Northfield. A number of their group, lying in ambush at the north part of the town, set upon and killed Nathaniel Dickinson and Asahel Burt, who were driving cows up from the common meadows. This violent and tragic event is marked by a granite monument on the side of routes 5/10, about a mile north of the center of Northfield Village. On one side of the stone is the inscription, "Nathaniel Dickinson was killed and scalped by the Indians at this place, April 15, 1747, aet. 48." On the other it reads, "Asahel, son of Joseph Burt, companion of Dickinson and sharer of his fate, aged about 40." I have ridden by this small monument many times, but only recently stopped to read, and think about, what it said.

It is worth noting that much of the Morrison family, whose reunion I am riding to, is based in the area through which I will be riding on this day. Many live in and around Walpole, NH and across the Connecticut River in Saxtons River, VT. The Kurn Hattin School, in Putney, VT, has been an important part of the lives of several of the Morrison family.

I’ll be staying with Tom and Leanne for the evening at their home in Westminster, VT. Tom is Wifeness’ uncle, and is a master general contractor. He helped me install our dishwasher several years ago, and has graciously offered his expertise in wiring to me when I’ve had to add, remove or change outlets in the house over the years. He’s led a difficult life, but he is a good, good man. I’m grateful for the opportunity to spend time with them.

Just When You Thought...

...it was safe to go back into the water:

[WEATHER CHANNEL NEWS STORY]

I think I’ll watch Jaws today on Netflix. I'm too far inland to have nightmares about such things.

Of course, then this could happen [HERE].

Vermont 2010: An Overview in Four Stages

Because I’ll be gone for the next several days, I thought it might be good to stack up some posts for while I’m on the road. The content of these posts represent a synthesis of some background reading I’ve done in preparation for this ride. The posts are fairly short, but I hope they give some flavor to the experience I hope to have. I also spent some time reading about the area covered in the ride I took yesterday. Consider this a prologue to the longer event.

Prologue: Wayfarer House to Deerfield, Haydenville, Goshen, Ashfield, Conway, Deerfield to Wayfarer House.

Deerfield has been in my mind for a while now, since I’d read The Unredeemed Captive: A Family Story from Early America (Demos, 1994). This work recounts the story of Eunice Williams, an English colonist taken captive as a child by French and Mohawk warriors from Deerfield during a raid in 1704. Her mother, also named Eunice, was killed not far from Wayfarer House (a plaque marks the spot, and there is a covered bridge bearing her name nearby). The elder Eunice, wife of Deerfield’s famous reverend John Williams, had given birth just hours before, and was slain and thrown in the Green River by her captors because she was unable to keep pace with the march north through the frozen, snowy forest.

This story really brings to life what it must have been like to be here during those very difficult times. Another tragedy, which I only became aware of on this ride and only because I stopped to adjust my pack, is chronicled in Haydenville. On May 16, 1874, the Williamsburg reservoir dam broke, sending an avalanche of water over five of the villages that lined the Mill River Valley. When the flood reached Haydenville, the water was moving with such force that it picked up a house and slammed it into a brick factory with enough force to cause it to collapse like a cardboard box. The heaps of debris were so dense and tangled that people searching for survivors had to use crowbars to pry things apart. One hundred thirty-nine people were killed in that event, 27 of them from Haydenville.


I didn’t take a picture of the river itself, but it’s hard to imagine that it ever had enough force to cause such devastation. The village today is shown here.

The town of Conway was the victim of an earlier dam break, in 1869. Home of one of the few covered bridges left in Massachusetts, Conway has always had an abundant water supply. In its early years, this water provided power for grist and saw mills, as well as a number of tanneries. In the 19th century, a dam was created to provide a reservoir for the several woolen and broadcloth mills along the South River. These mills, the largest industries in town at the time, were all completely washed away when the dam burst. Conway has since returned to its roots as an agricultural community, and sports a number of maple sugar houses.

Not Far from the Tree...

This effort by my oldest is a comic strip, called Foop and Notch.

This is the sequel, Foop and Notch 2: Ultimate Laffs**.

I show you this not to highlight my daughters creative accomplishments, but to share with you a secret:

I did exactly the same thing when I was her age.

I don’t have copies of them (nothing like that survived the frequent relocations that occurred during my childhood), but I remember that the main characters were geometric shapes. There was a triangle, a square, the slightly nerdy rectangle and a teardrop shape that represented the female protagonist. My inspiration was Charles M Schulz’ Peanuts strip. I found out that SiSi’s muse is Calvin and Hobbs (she keeps one of the anthologies in her bed, to read as she goes to sleep).

She asked me to read her comic strips, and afterward we talked about them.

“Wow, they’re really great, SiSi! I’m curious, though. They seem rather violent. Why is that?”

She shrugged. “Kids like me think that stuff is funny, I guess.”

I remember saying the same thing to my dad.

Eerie, is what I’m saying.

** SiSi made a point of telling me that she knew this was not the correct spelling of the word, but that she decided to use it for effect. I was quietly stunned.

A Straightforward Day

This wasn’t going to be a rest day, but I’m taking the girls up to a sleepover, and I won’t get back in time to do the training ride I need to do to tweak all the settings on my bike before the long test ride this weekend. That’s ok because I get to go out on a date with my wife! Nothing exciting; a little shopping, some dinner, a movie. We might even sleep in on Saturday, since there will be no small children about.

Instead of riding, I’ll be with the girls and doing some cleanup around the house (I’ve realized I can’t find the floor on my side of the bed). I’ll feed them elevenses and the drive them up to their sleepover party at Bessie’s, get my hair cut and get back just in time to meet Wifeness down by the small mall (not to be confused with the Darth Mall) after she gets out of work. That’s the day. It’s pretty straightforward, really.

Except that it’s my birthday. Yay me!

Making Preparations...

Today is the recovery portion of the Stress and Recovery cycle, so we’ll be taking care of trip planning.

I have some equipment to buy for my ride, most notably a new front rim (the current one has a kink in it that I can’t massage out, and it wobbles a little too much at high speeds). I’m also hoping to find some new cycling shorts. The ones I use now, while perfectly effective for local daily riding, are really old and I’m worried they’re not going to survive the trip. It would not do to have one’s (only) pair of bike shorts fail halfway on a long trip!

After that, I need to put together the maps and trip notes I need into a document I can print out and take with me. I use the AAA website to plan my trips. Their tool gives me good information on where I can get food and water en route, as well as where there might be construction or other road hazards. It also creates maps that are more easily converted to what I need, although Google or MapQuest can do much the same thing.

Once I know what roads I'm taking, I’ll input the route information into mapmyride.com, which has an elevation calculator so I can see where the challenging parts of each day’s ride are. This is really helpful in terms of planning how to approach the ride on any given day. I’ll take all those notes, the maps, contact information for hotels, etc. and make a single PDF document out of it. Wifeness will get a copy for emergency purposes, and mine will live in a ziplock baggie that attaches to my aero bars, so I can get to it easily.

Then comes the packing. This trip doesn’t require camping out, so there’s no heavy gear like a tent to worry about. I can fit everything on this bag:


It really just holds the basics: glasses, compact street clothes and shoes, camera, phone, ointments (sunscreen, etc), basic toiletries -- including tp -- and pills (Ibuprofen, thyroid stuff, vitamins). I’ll carry the stuff I need to get at quickly (food, handkerchief, mp3 player) in the back pockets of my jersey, so I don’t have to stop the bike except to reapply ointments or take the occasional potty break. Trust me, the more often you get off the bike, the harder it is to get back on it.

Each trip is different, so the packing takes a little bit of experimenting to get just right. The trick is to get stuff positioned in just the right places so it’s comfortable. The pack should sit a little high on the waist as I ride, so it doesn’t pull on my lower back if I’m bent over on the drops of the handlebars. On my Lock Haven trip, this proved difficult to do because of the stuff I was carrying, so I developed a way to move the pack onto my aerobars when I need to give my body a rest from carrying it. It’s an interim sort of solution only because putting weight on the front of the bike like that changes the way it steers and gives it a sluggish feel that, when going down hills, can be unnerving. And it also takes away one of the four riding positions -- and the one that gives my body the most rest -- because I can’t lean on the aerobars while the pack is there.

I have a couple of repairs and adjustments to make before I leave. I’ll tweak the seat just a touch to accommodate for the pack, and my left shoe needs to be taken apart so I can refasten the cleat (it’s worked itself just a bit loose, so it moves when I use it to pull the pedal up from the bottom). I need to rewrap my handlebars because the tape has shifted and makes the tops all slippery now, and I need to adjust the tension on the rear derailleur cable. It sometimes shifts on its own, and that can be really annoying when you’re trying to get into a rhythm to climb a steep hill. After that, there’s some final cleaning and lubricating of parts, and then we’re ready to roll!

I have a 60-mile ride scheduled for this weekend to test everything out “on the road”. That’ll be the last real mileage I put on before I leave on Wednesday. Assuming there are no major issues, I should only have to pump the tires up on Wednesday morning before I’m ready to start off! My goal is to leave around 7:30. It's a much more pleasant thing to ride before it gets hellish hot!

Somebody's in a Hurry...

I was out on a training ride this evening when this flew by me at 80+ mph [HERE]. I was grateful to have been going the other direction. I really didn’t need to get caught up in a high-speed chase on a bicycle.

Ouch!

My tenders are tender. Chaffed. Made raw in ways such parts should not be. Thank goodness there’s a cream for that.

Those saddle calluses need to harden up; I have a bike trip to ride in a week and a half. My first since my 400 ride to Lock Haven in 2006, and I’m really looking forward to it.

I’m riding 220 miles from Wayfarer House to the tippy top of Vermont. The route is designed to take advantage of several scenic roads before culminating in a climb of Smuggler’s Notch, near Stowe, and easing my way to the Morrison Family reunion.

I was concerned I might not be able to do this ride because of my ankle, but two recent outings (20 flat miles at time trial pace and 30 miles of hills) have shown it will handle the strain. My ass, clearly, still needs some convincing.

I’ve been working out the details for lodging today, which has been an annoying challenge. The trick in planning trips like these is to find places to stay that are on the direct route, in a sweet spot of mileage (in this case, around 60 miles), but don’t cost an outrageous amount. The problem in Vermont is that lodging is...

1) rarely on the direct route,
2) rarely about 60 miles apart,
3) totally outrageously priced.

To that end, I’m looking for couches to sleep on. I’ve got in-laws in Bellows Falls who have graciously offered to let me stay with them, and I’m reaching out to an alumna of mine near Rutland for some help, but the area around Stowe is proving impossible. Does anyone have any ideas/suggestions/friends with couches?

Tomorrow, I’m taking the van in to get a new starter. While that work is being done, I’ll be riding. Then I expect I’ll be looking for some more cream. And maybe some chamois. Is that too much information?

Smuggler's Notch

Freedom?

Everyone else in the house is gone. It’s just I (which never sounds right, even though that’s the correct way to say it). I’ll be alone until Sunday afternoon. You’d think this represents a time of complete freedom, and it is in the sense that there’s no responsibility to make dinner, do dishes, chivvy kids in/out of the shower. But when it comes right down to it (on this occasion, anyway), things won’t play out all that differently from normal day. I suppose I could let everything slide, put on my Hawaiian shirt and go find a place to party, but that’s never really been my style.

Plus, I’ve got stuff to do. There’s a dump run to be made, visits to the bank, library and BJs (the garbage bags they have now just don’t stay in the can right since they “improved” them). There are repairs to be made upstairs in the apartment. I need to get out on my bike again to work my ankle. I need to do some sheets.

My day will be full, and that brings peace to me.

Am I sad, or what?

To catch you up...

I apologize for the lengthy absence. I’m finally feeling like I’m getting a handle on my summer.

While I’ve been off-blogosphere, several things of note have happened:

I sprained my ankle a week ago. The effects of this are several: There will be no triathlons this summer; there may be no cycling to VT (more on that in a sec); many home-improvement projects will get done, albeit at a much slower pace, and with much pausing; I will have more time to spend retooling course and curriculum for the fall; I am learning to be at peace with things as they are, and not as I had planned them to be. That last one is still a work in progress.

I will be returning to soccer. Over a year ago, I walked away from athletics at my school--a program I started--to put an end to the conflict and discord that was becoming constant between myself and our school’s curricular director. The situation is complicated to explain but, in essence, it wasn’t worth putting a full-time teaching job on the line to constantly go head-to-head with this woman over a seasonal stipended position, however much it meant to me, personally. Last year, the curricular director announced that she was leaving the school and, after some lengthy discussions among people about the althetics program, its mission and its direction, I offered to come back to coaching--just coaching, no admin. This seemed to meet with a positive response from the players.

I am planning a 4-day bike trip through VT scheduled for the first week in August. My ankle has put this trip in jeopardy, but I’m making preparations to do it all the same. Today, in fact, I have the first real test of fitness and strength since the sprain--a 20-mile time trial scenario. If it goes well, we move forward. If my ankle reacts badly... The trip runs from Wayfarer House to Enosburg Falls, VT, where the annual Morrison Family reunion will take place (this reunion is for Wifeness’ family, and has been held every year for something like 60 years).

I’ve committed to be part of a trial of a new grading and reporting system for my school. We don’t use letter grades at my school; instead, we have a system that is based on levels of credit. For example, Full Credit (which equates roughly to a B in the letter system most of us recognize) is designed to basically communicate that the student knows or can do something with confidence, and without a lot of errors. We like (and there is an ever-growing body of research to support) the idea of grading in this way, but there are issues we’ve uncovered in terms of its universal application and its conversion to something colleges and universities will deign to interpret.** There are still some bugs to be worked out among the group involved in the trial, but in its basic form it won’t work all that differently from what we use now (we will still require the equivalent of FCR for students to move on), but it will be quite different in terms of how we approach grading and assessment (what goes into the actual “grade”, what the kids and parents see, how we have conversations about student work and progress). I’m blogging about this work and the retooling of my own materials and grading systems, but right now it’s a closed blog just for the teachers at my school. If I get their permission to open it up for everyone to read, I’ll post the link.

My thyroid is failing. I’ve been having problems with fatigue, weight gain, depression and muscle issues for a good while now, and I’d been to my doctor about it. We drew blood. We checked lots of things, and came up with the very likely possibility that all this was due to an erratic thyroid. Solutions? Cut it out, go on drugs, do radiation treatment.

None of those appealed so we left things be, but I committed to regular blood tests to see what was actually happening with my thyroid. Was it just being temperamental or was it actually failing? It turns out the latter, as a result of some form of autoimmune function. Solutions? See above, but really drugs become necessary. I resisted this at first because I don’t tolerate drugs well and I suck at taking pills of any kind religiously (please notice the vitamins on top of the refrigerator). The symptoms were getting really hard to work around, so last week I went back to the doctor and got a prescription for synthetic thyroid hormone which, if it proves effective, I’ll likely be taking in one form or another for the rest of my life--every day at 6am.

That’s it for now. I’m going to finish this cup of coffee and go put on some lycra. My bike has been waiting patiently for me for a while. Too long. She’s ready for a workout.

** I find it no end of ironic that the very universities doing the research that has confirmed the inefficacy of traditional grading also require it for admission to their programs.

World Cup Update...

Go, USA England Mexico Paraguay Uruguay!

Nods to Ghana for their heartbreaking loss in the quarterfinals. Seriously, if you didn't see the game, you missed some of the most epic drama ever seen in sport!

Quick Hit: World Cup

Go, USA England Mexico!

Edited 90 minutes later:

Go, USA England Mexico Paraguay!

Quick Hit: NDR 1 JPN 0 (73 min)

I’ve got a few minutes while the World Cup game is finishing (yes, I’ve watched every single one) and everyone is getting ready to head out the door to touch base with the blogosphere. I’m still here. I’m very tired. Physically tired. Emotionally tired. Spiritually tired. It’s the end of the school year, and it’s just like that for me. I have one week to go.

Next week starts with Judgement Day -- the day my books close and the students who are working either show me that they’re ready to move on or have the conversation with me about trying again. There’s professional development for 3 days next week, and then we meet as a staff to talk about what needs to be done for the fall. I’ll be able to totally separate from school on June 29th.

I’ve entered talks to return to coaching. I walked away from athletics at my school last year as a result of chronic conflict with my administration, but the entire administrative picture has changed, and the climate stands to be much more supportive of athletics. I won’t reprise my work as Athletic Director no matter what happens; the discussions we’re having only revolve around coaching. That’s just fine with me. It’s what I love most!

I’m biking 35 miles to NH tomorrow, the first real work I’ve done in three weeks. It’s going to hurt. I need it to hurt a little, to remind me that it is time to focus on training again. I have a triathlon in six weeks and a 250 mile ride just a week after. My body is going to have to gear up quickly.

OK. Everyone is leaving for a fair, so it’s time to get started with the to-do list. I’m looking forward to a quiet day of domestica. And the World Cup.

To my school's Board to Trustees

I came to this meeting at the cost of a babysitter to speak about the upcoming vote on the Governance Committee’s recommendation. I’ll sell something on eBay to get the babysitter to come back next Tuesday, but since I’ve paid for it, I don’t want to waste the chance to share the essence of some conversations I’ve been part of the last little while. I’ve been writing this during the meeting, so some of what follows has already been said by members of the Board, and it was wonderful to hear. That I’ve written this largely in the first person, then, does not mean that these thoughts are mine alone.

The Governance Committee, after some prodding, sat down with the individuals involved as potential members of its proposed interim leadership team, and they’re now seeking broader participation in the process. This is exciting news, and it is my hope that it represents an understanding of all the members of the Board about the importance of discussion in the community’s decision-making process.

I’ve been a member of this community for 8 years and I have seen that the process of soliciting the voice of our students, staff, parents and administration before a decision is made is time-consuming, and can lead to a messy brand of democracy. But for as long as I’ve been here, it has been part of the cultural fabric of the school for decision-makers to encourage those voices, to listen to them and act on the trends that come out of such dialog. One of the quiet complaints the staff in my presence in the last couple of years is that, in an effort to improve the efficiency and efficacy of decision-making, the longstanding attitude of collaboration is giving way to a hierarchical model that leaves the rank-and-file community to give voice only after the fact.

I’m excited that there has been some restoration of dialog to the decision-making process. In particular, the efforts of Jay and the many others who moderated the recent listening sessions have given the community a breath of fresh air. There are other examples, as well. I’m here to say thank you for taking the time to allow those voices to be heard, and to communicate to you that, however haphazard and boisterous such protocols may seem, they are not just the key to the best governance the Board can provide, but they serve as a comforting example for the community as a whole that the Board is truly acting on its general consensus, not simply seeking its approval for unilateral verdicts.

It is clearly understood by all of you on the Board that within this community there is a vast amount of collective wisdom and experience. Its members, together, hold a deep understanding of the unwritten rules, routines and values of this place. That we all do not all sit at these meetings should not be construed as a sign of either ignorance or indifference, and it should not lead to governance that ignores our insight. (My school) was founded on a principle of inclusion, including in its governance. We are unique in the way we have traditionally included everyone in the great conversations. It is, believe it or not, one of our strengths as an institution. When we voice our discontent, we are not complaining. We are not, as was written in the previously-discussed public minutes, simply giving the Board--problems. We are reminding you of what we recognize to be a fundamental tenet of the way (my school) should be governed. Please take the time to listen to us, not just as a group, but as individuals. And don’t just listen to us, use our voices to guide your decisions. Don’t rely on us to come to you. We’re busy doing all the little things for the school, and babysitters are expensive. Simply saying, “anyone can be part of a committee,” is not enough. Ways must be found to actively invite participation. Lao Tzu wrote once that leaders are best when people barely know they exist, when their work is done, their aims fulfilled, the people will say: we did it ourselves. This is what we, as a community, are hoping of you.

Phasing out...

My classes have what I refer to as a “phased withdrawal” at the end of each term. Essentially, this means that assignments for the class are not due all at once. Instead, they have a series of deadlines for when particular work needs to be completed and to credit standard (earlier work is due earlier, later work is due later, for example). This is so that the end-of-year routine is manageable for the students, many of whom are balancing the needs of many classes all at once, and for their beloved teacher, who has learned that it lessens the stress of the students who aren’t going to make it if I can talk to them earlier rather than later about their need to repeat the course.

We passed the first of the deadlines last Friday. Currently (and with two weeks remaining), 18% of my current enrollment will not earn credit. This is an astonishing number compared to years past, when the average was under 15% at the end of the term. The number of students who are not ready to move on could, quite reasonably, top 25% in what time is left. That is truly alarming to me, especially given the amount of support I give my students.

I have to be honest in saying I’m not entirely certain what the problem is. Some of the total is a standard number of students who simply didn’t put the time, effort and attention into the course that they knew they needed to, but this is not a sizeable percentage -- roughly only a third of those not advancing. The other 2/3, I discovered today, is composed in large part of students who gave good effort in class, but did not have the foundational skills to support daily practice outside the classroom. Simply put, they didn’t have the study habits, time management skills or organizational routines they needed to do what I was asking them to do.

Is this year’s situation an aberration? In its sheer volume, perhaps, but not in terms of the basic underlying problem -- a problem that many high school teachers are faced with. We expect students to come into our classes with certain fundamental skills in place and, when they don’t, often the only thing we can do is say, “they don’t know what they need to,” and fail them. I am convinced of the need to support students of all levels in my classes, but the matter of fundamental skills remains one that is not easily resolved by in-class differentiation.

I decided today that, in retooling for next year, I’m going to invest some time in researching how to solve this problem. It just seems like one that is thoroughly preventable, and I cannot help but believe that a solution is there to be found. Before the end of the school year, I’m going to talk to my students to get their thoughts; they are often wonderfully astute and insightful about such things. I also hope to get some time to sit with my colleagues, who understand the particular flavor of the problem as it exists in my school. Finally, I’m curious to know what you, the blogging public, think. How can teachers better support students who need the basics, but not sacrifice the other stuff? I’d love to hear what you have to say!

And after this, the laundry...

For the next ten minutes, I’m in an eddy in the otherwise swiftly moving current of my weekend, and I wanted to just say that, although there is much going on in my world, all is well and things are generally doing as they should.

The end of the school year is always a frenetic time professionally: Students panicking about whether they’ll pass, graduation rehearsals (I may not have told you this but, at my school, the graduating class puts on a show as part of the event -- it’s the kick-assin’est graduation going), meetings to deconstruct the current year, meetings to set up for the upcoming year and, in all of that, time to give some closure to my classes so there’s that nice sense of completion about what they’ve accomplished -- and they have accomplished so very much.

All this leaves the not-school parts of my world rather in limbo. I have done absolutely frick-all for training in the last three weeks (tree removal notwithstanding), the list of home maintenance projects grows daily and, in the category of things I reserve for leisure time, I have some 3,216 blog posts waiting for me to finish. In short, I have a lot that I would like to be doing, and most of it will just have to wait until school is out.

I haven’t even been keeping up on my quotes! Even so, I can leave you one that illustrates just how everyone’s brains are working at school of late:

¿Cómo se dice “now” en français? Maeve, who is destined to be my padawan learner in multilingual studies.

Happy weekend!

This Is Me...

How'd your week go?

Dumbass??

Chili posted on Tuesday about this story about a teacher in Alabama. Click on the link [HERE] to read the story.

I added a short reply to Chili’s blog, but I’m posting this response to the story and certain of the public’s reaction in this space because I have only enough time to write about this once, and I want to get it out there.

I present the following quotes from the most recent version of the story from Alabama Live:

“A student in Harrison's class said the incident has been ‘blown out of proportion.’"

‘We were going over a test and getting reviewed for our finals and were going over tangency,’ sophomore Malia Drummond said. ‘A student walked in and said, “Well, if you shoot the president...” and the teacher picked up on it and said, “OK, if you shoot off his ear, that is a point of tangency."’

This story alarms me because of how viral the opinionation* of it has become. It seems as though the masses are ready to crucify this guy (literally, as well as figuratively), despite the fact that those who have investigated the facts of the matter have confirmed Malia’s take -- that it was a moment between a teacher and his students that was hyperbolized and politicized by a segment of the public entirely too willing to overreact on issues it deems anathema.

May I suggest that it is not improper to trust the people who looked into the situation, who said this is a non-issue? May I further suggest that it is not improper to resist the urge to impose our sensitivities and our outrage on a situation we are not connected to, especially when the effect of doing so can only lead to decisions made on the basis of politic or fear, not wisdom and dialog? I would look on it as a travesty if this teacher were fired because of political fallout from this event. It only shows how immature we are as a nation if we can't talk about such things without risking insult, degradation or threats to our person.

Surely we can be better than that.

* I totally made that word up just then.

I've got two minutes...

...to tell you that all is well, but too damn busy to sit down and really put together anything bloggable. Maybe soon. In the meantime, I offer you a cool video of one of my school's math classes. This is the kind of stuff we do there, and it's one of the things that makes working there so fun.

Ignore the fact that it's a little off beat. This was the first time they'd done it!

4 carloads and $73...

That's what it took to purge the basement.

Now I just have to run the dry vac for, like, 3 days.

But not today.

It's too nice out!

A Tale of Two Phonecalls

The phone rings...

Hello, this is Wayfarer.

Uh, hola. Soy (student calling for his exam on phone calling).

¡Hola, Student! ¿Cómo estás?

Uh, ok...er, bueno...er, bien. Sí, bien. ¿Y tú?

Less nervous than you, I’m thinking... Bien.

[continuing in Spanish...]

Heh. Uh, ok. (shuffles papers) Uh. Is Mbungo there ?

No, I’m sorry. He’s not here right now. He’s in another class.

Oh. That sucks. (lengthy pause as more papers are shuffled) Can I... Wait. May I take a... No, wait. Can I leave a message?

Sure. What’s the message?

What?

What’s...the...message?

Oh, um...(gives message but at a volume that one would need superhearing to decipher).

I’m sorry, but I don’t understand you. Can you repeat that?

What?

I...don’t...understand...you.

Can you (indecipherable)?

I’m sorry. What?

What? (shuffles papers)

You need to call me back.

[sigh] What?

I’m hanging up now. Bye!

Oh, OK. Bye!
----------------------------------------------

The phone rings...

Hello, this is Wayfarer.

[in French] Hi, Wayfarer! It’s (another exam-taking student) on the phone. How are you doing?

I’m well. You?

Fine, thanks. Is Mbungo there?

No, sorry. He’s busy.

Oh, that sucks. Can you take a message?

Sure. What’s the message?

It’s important. Please tell him that Anne’s lost at the airport and can’t find her tickets. She says Mbungo has them in his backback. (Disclosure: The student came up with this unconventional dispatch entirely of her own accord, using random bits of vocabulary from several units.)

Wow! OK. I’ll tell him. Do you have a number?

Oh, yes! It’s [gives number]. Can you repeat the number to me?

Now I’m really impressed! Sure. It’s [repeats number, but gives one digit wrong intentionally].

No, it’s [gives correct number]. Do you have it?

Yes. I have it. Is there anything else?

No. That’s it. Thank you!

You are VERY welcome!

Don't stop thinking about...

I went for a 22-mile bike ride today. It was 45°F, wet (but not rainy) and the wind was blowing at some 20 mph. I finished the hilly route in 1 hr 22 mins. By the time I got off the bike, my hands were so cold I could not make a firm fist.

The biggest problem, though, was that I had to pee so bad by the end of the ride my kidneys were hurting!

I should explain. You see, there's a lot involved in pulling the bike over.

First of all, one has to find a place. It needs to be secluded (no peeing on anyone's front lawn) yet near enough to the road that I can drag the bike off. It would not do to have someone stop, throw your bike into the back of their truck and drive off while you're, well, indisposed. The path to one's place of seclusion needs to be not muddy or gravely, or too grassy, because that stuff gets into the cleats of the cycling shoes and then I can't click back into the pedals.

Assuming that a place can be found that meets these rather stringent requirements, one has to deal next with the actual act of voiding the bladder. This is easier said than done when one's parts have been pressed on a bike seat for the last hour. I don't want to set off a TMI alert here, but there are times when it takes some help to get things moving in such situations.

Fast forward past all those details. Now one has to get back to the road, mount up and get started again. On a ride where I'm not pushing for a time, this is straightforward. When my legs have been working at their limit for an hour, though, they do not take well to stopping and starting. Hell, even getting on the bike risks a certain amount of cramping if not done just so.

In the end, I decided that the risk of kidney failure outweighed the hassle of stopping. I'm a guy; I can hold it that long. I'm just grateful the road was mostly smooth and that it wasn't raining. I did my best not to think of running water or babbling brooks. It would have complicated things.

I’ve been offline for the last several days on purpose. I’m sorry I didn’t announce it. It was a sort of spontaneous decision to unplug so I could focus on the things on my to-do list during vacation. To answer your question, yes. I did, in fact, accomplish rather a lot this week. I even managed to pull together a few quotes.

“That’s right. We’re a bank, and we said, ‘Damn.’” (Danvers Bank, from their recent radio ad).

“This is much more important work than raking.” (NiNi, on moving plants around in Nana’s garden this week).

"Do not be so quick to deal out death and judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends." (Gandalf, from The Fellowship of the Ring).

“I'm happy and sad all at the same time.” (Ruth, on coming home from college and having to take a semester off because she can’t afford to go back).

“I gave him an appreciative pat every time I read a really good section.” (Jinx, about reading Brecht while sitting at his gravestone).

"I felt them shatter, right away," (Washington Capitals center Eric Belanger, after losing a half-dozen or so teeth in a run-in with an opponent's stick during Game 5 of their playoff series Friday night).

"I knew I was in trouble, but what are you going to do? It's the playoffs," (Belanger, remarking on his third period return to the game in which he lost the aforementioned teeth).

“I prefer not to poop in the neighbor’s yard, if I can help it.” (Missy, a triathlete, on addressing the effects of distance running on one’s digestive system).

“It’s a nice TV!” Wifeness, as she lovely caressed the remote to our new flat screen).

“It had better make a damn good cup of coffee.” (Wifeness, remarking about the cost of my new coffee maker).

“Mmm. That's good joe.” (Michael "Goob" Yagoobian, from the film Meet the Robinsons, echoing my sentiments).

If I had any money...

...I would open an account at this bank because they’re so cool!

From the bank’s website:

“We thank our agency, Fort Franklin, for their creativity, and for ruling in general. If you like what you see below, forget we mentioned them; they’re spoken for.”

Marathon, By Surprise

In 490 BC, the Greek messenger Pheidippides was said to have run from the battlefield of Marathon (where he had just been fighting) to Athens to announce that the Persians had been defeated. The story goes that Pheidippides ran the entire distance without stopping (he had to run around Mount Penteli, which stands between Marathon and Athens). Upon arriving in Athens, he burst into the assembly, exclaimed “We have won!” and then collapsed and died.

The grand and popular tradition of abusing one’s body by running obscene distances was born.

the Boston Marathon was inspired by the success of the first modern-day marathon competition during the 1896 Summer Olympics, Continuously run since 1897, it is the world's oldest annual marathon and ranks as one of the world's best-known road racing events. This year, the event attracted more than about 23,000 registered participants.

Including our own Uncle Mahk.

Mahk has run the Boston Marathon before. In fact, his father used to go stand at Newton Town Hall to stoically cheer him on. It was a tradition that meant a lot to Mahk and, when his father passed away last year, the rest of the community began the whispered conversation of how to continue this tradition. It was to be a surprise, which meant that Lisa needed to figure out the details of where his dad used to stand, when Mahk would likely pass by that spot and coordinate how to get in and out of Newton on Patriot’s Day. She was emailing us last night the final details and wrote, “It's like pulling teeth.”

Two vehicles left Wayfarer House this morning to drive to Newton, complete with cow bells, posters, snacks and 80’s music (that was for us). We arrived and found parking not too far away from the race route, and were cheering racers on at the 19-mile marker by 11:45 -- in plenty of time to surprise him when he went by at 12:15 or so. At just after noon, I walked upstream a ¼ mile or so in order to alert the rest of the group that he was coming (the little ones’ attention spans would only hold for that moment of excitement). At that point, the elite runners had passed and the early batch of regulars had started coming in. By the bib numbers, Mahk was still a way off, so I settled in against a tree and tried to look for his face in the stream. At 12:20, the stream thickened considerably. If you’ve never been to a marathon, imagine a two-way street full all the way across with people running. Like, a lot of people. Like, so many people going by so fast that your eyes can’t catch them all. I hoped I wouldn’t miss him.

I did.

By 12:40, I knew he had to have gone by. I called down to the group. Nope, they said, they hadn’t seen him either.

I walked back down to the group and we gathered the kids and posters and cow bells. We asked someone nearby to take a picture of us so we could send it to Mahk’s phone. At least he’d know we were there after the fact. Then we waited for the stream of runners to thin out so we could get back across the street. Did I mention there were 23,000 runners? You can spread out 23,000 runners a long way.

We found a pizza joint not far from where we’d parked. Mahk checked in with Lisa while we were gnoshing to say he’d finished, and he was genuinely surprised when we all cheered him over the phone! He was also genuinely honored we’d come and disappointed he’d missed us (apparently, we were on the wrong side of the road anyway). Sorry, Mahk! We’ll get it right next time!

And since it won’t be a surprise next time, we can actually tell you we’ll be there! That’ll probably help.


The credit for this photo belongs to Blaise, a friend of Mahk’s who DID happen to see him and who, as it happened, was right near where we were. I’ll post the pic we sent to Mahk’s phone as soon as someone can get it to me.

The Week in Quotes, but not from Buttercup

There was a rash of quotes from The Princess Bride on Facebook and in person this past week, but I chose to leave those out. That would have just invited more, and we could have gone on for days. Here's what's left:

“You get the underneath and I’ll get the overneath.” NiNi.

“At least with Barbie, you can bend her legs to get it in her pants!” Bessie, who did not even bother to complain that I was going to post this quote completely out of context.

“He’ll pay me 5$ if I’m quiet till lunch.” Gia, about participating in the National Day of Silence.

“Bunny!” Monica, randomly quoting Lisa.

“Would you like some epic with that fail?” Lisa.

“So we were planning this party, and it’s not gonna happen really, so I guess it’s ok to tell you...we were gonna have soda.” SiSi.

“Why would anyone put a hot tub in the middle of an orchard? That’s ridiculous!” Rebeccah, about a problem in her geometry homework.

“They listen to the Firefly song in France?” Julia.

“No way! I’ll never do that!” SiSi, when I suggested that she might be able to see better while playing catch if she tied her hair back or put it in a braid -- sigh.

“I've heard of T-shirts, plaques, plates, cups, bowls, crowns, flowers, and sashes, but BLANKETS?” Graham, on Julia’s prize for winning the Miss Teen Western Mass pageant.

“SAY IT!” Mahk, Matt and I, urging Liam Neeson to say ‘Release the Kraken!’, the only decent line in the movie Clash of the Titans.

“They waited until the end for that because everyone would have walked out if they’d put it any earlier” Matt, on Liam Neesons’s line.

“There's no going back now!” Erika, on having turned in her thesis.

No going back, indeed. Happy week, everyone!

All I Ever Wanted

Vacation starts today. I’m not going anywhere. In fact, I am deliberately staying near the house. I have a list of things I have committed to doing, things that have been bugging me for a long time, things that need to get done so I can have some peace of mind and so I can do other things that need to get done. Here are the high points:

Purge the basement. This multi-day project has been on my list for a long time, and it will be tops on my list until it is done. Everything is coming out. Some stuff is going back in. The rest? Come on by and take it! Except the barber chair; that’s Bessie’s.

Do some reading. I have several books on my list. Most of them are education related, but I’m reading one on abortion and I’m looking forward to delving into Wilhelm’s translation of the Book of Changes. This is stuff that, when school is busy, I often set aside out of mental exhaustion. School has been busy of late, and I’ve been exhausted a lot.

Work on the Community School. I have things to read, but I want to put down on paper some guiding thoughts for the work that must come next. Maybe I’ll post about this during the week. Right now, it’s just too daunting to think about without my coffee.

Post something to the community’s DnD adventure. My nerdy side needs some love, and I’ve owed it to the players to move their adventure along for quite some time.

Training, goddammit! Between exhaustion that I now recognize to be symptomatic of hypothyroidism and the business of school, I have done nothing -- NOTHING -- for the last two weeks. It’s time to get back on the wagon. Or the bike, as the case may be.

The kids are going to Nana’s for most of the week, so I’ll be able to focus on the list exclusively until Thursday. If I get the basement done and the other things started, I will consider my time away from the classroom well spent.

What’re you doing this week?

Voice and Silence

Today many of our students have chosen to observe the National Day of Silence, a national youth-run movement that uses silence to protest harassment, bias and abuse in schools, particularly of the kind that targets gay, lesbian and transgender individuals. I, myself, will not observe this silent protest, although I have made it clear that I absolutely support the right of my students to do so without consequence. My classes all have exams today (I did not include an oral component), so there is not a great need on my part to accommodate instruction, but communicating about the several bits and pieces of their work still has to take place. We will do this in several ways:

Email. Many do this as a primary mode of communication already.

White board and marker. I cleaned my boards to make space for them to write, so they could leave me notes, ask questions and share stuff about the day that was important. I didn’t make this invitation explicit by telling them why the boards were clean; I don’t really have to do that. At my school, any clean white board is assumed to be simply waiting for them to write or draw on it.

Post-it and index card. The post-its go on the work they’re handing in. The index cards (which I substituted with regular pieces of paper this year to save money) sit out on my podium for them to take around the school with them, when they need to talk to each other.

Sign language. Many of my students also know a bit of ASL or can at least fingerspell. I can follow it pretty well, so they use that to talk about some of the formulaic things. We also have certain kinds of signs for common things like going to the bathroom, getting a drink, looking for paper and pencil (these exist to minimize disruption during class).

The question that is asked as part of the event this year is, “What are you going to do to end the silence?” My answer to this as twofold. First I will, as I do every day, work to end the need for silence by using my voice to speak out against harassment and abuse of all forms and to encourage others to speak out in whatever way they feel they can. Second, I will continue to create a space of safety and security that promotes acceptance and inclusion, and treat everyone in my world with the love and compassion they deserve. I hope that by providing an example of the kind of behavior I value, my students will understand that judicious use of voice as well as silence can be a force for change.

An Unintentional Poem

Two of my Spanish II students asked me if they could see me after class today. I raised my eyebrows, for they are two of my top students, but I said sure. As the rest of the crew filed out, I sat down with them and asked, "What's up?"

"We want to read you a poem," they said. "Actually, it's a poem YOU wrote."

"Really??" I said, surprised (I do wax poetic in my classes from time to time, but hadn't done so recently that I could recall), "*I* wrote a poem?"

"Yes," they nodded, and proceeded to read. It began thusly...

At least
Maybe
It’s not my fault
This is how we are
People
Like I was saying, ...

A long time ago
Once upon a time
A terrible cold
So,...
It turns out that...
And what’s more...
He wasn’t too bright
So to speak
Who with half a brain...

Of course, ...
As soon as...
I knocked at the door
Go into

I was about to...
My nose began to itch
I felt like
I let loose a sneeze

Do you know what happened?
The darned house
Dead as a doornail
It seemed a shame
.
.
.


What they were reading to me was the list of idiomatic vocab I was asking them to find in the story they were reading! The spacing you see is actually the paragraph spacing in the story, so they could more easily find the expressions in context. They read it with beautiful poetic voice and inflection, and I was cracking up at how well it read the way it was written. After I got done laughing I think I said something about how I must not be doing my job well if they've got time to figure out how to make poems out of my vocab lists, but I was very, very impressed.

Can you tell what story the vocab is from? I'll give you a hint: Think common fairy tale.

Talking Parents Back From the Edge

Today is Parent/Teacher conference day. I’ve posted about this before [HERE] and [HERE], but this year I’d like to look at the event from the point of view of “talking parents back from the edge”.

I have several students whose parents, to be polite, ride their kids hard. They have high expectations for their children and a sometimes rigid belief that, without constant vigilance, their children will not do their job well as students. There are times when such diligence is necessary, to be sure, but I often see examples when parents who are too watchful do more harm than good.

One of my conferences involved a mom whose daughter is a good student. She earns credit in my class, her exams show that she understands what she’s seeing and her participation is consistently good. The one issue I have is that she doesn’t always keep up on her homework. It comes in, but not always in the week that it’s due. This does not bother me because my course is structured to allow students the flexibility to take the time they need to do such work. Mom, however, heard that her daughter owed me homework and... well, let’s say she came in ready to rake her kid over hot coals.

I welcomed mom into my (freshly cleaned and swept) space and she started right in on how she was disappointed in her daughter’s performance and that she wanted me to know that she found it unacceptable. I said that I appreciated the fact that she took her daughter’s education seriously and how refreshing it was to see a parent genuinely concerned for the welfare of her child. I then painted the picture of her daughter’s performance in my class -- she asks questions and offers answers, even at the risk of being wrong; she helps other students to understand; she does very creative work and she takes the time to review and revise her work to improve it. That she is a chatty cathy is part of her personality, and it is only a problem if it gets in the way of what I’m doing in the classroom. If I tell her to rein it in, she does. That her homework is behind schedule is something we’ve talked about, and I’m confident she’ll get it done. If I am ever worried about her, I will reach out immediately, but the narrative says she’s doing fine. Trust me to tell you the truth.

By the time mom left, she had cooled off considerably. The kid whispered “thank you” as she hugged me good-bye.

You’re welcome!

Now go do your homework.

Hypo-pain-in-my-ism

I got blood test results back today. They match almost exactly results from tests in December, and together they present pretty compelling evidence of hypothyroidism.

That I might have hypothyroidism is not that shocking or surprising to me really. I’ve had symptoms of Graves Ophthalmopathy for more than 10 years, and my doctor and I have been talking regularly about what how the condition might represent a symptom of a bigger problem on the horizon.

Apparently, I’ve found the horizon.

It certainly explains a lot. As my wife said today when I told her, “...when you look at hypothyroidism, the classic symptoms are your favorites -- fatigue and sensitivity to cold, along with mild depression (not that you are clinically depressed, just that you get down, particularly when it's cold out). She didn’t mention the other things that I’ve been fighting strongly the last couple of weeks: Weight gain (despite eating less), muscle soreness and difficulty concentrating (at a time when I can hardly afford it). This list of symptoms together with the blood work makes it pretty clear what the cause is.

The question is what’s causing it? As I’ve been learning, there are a few reasons apart from the basic “your thyroid is failing”. One that attracted my attention was iodine deficiency. I’ve asked my doctor to look into this because, even though it’s practically nonexistent in the U.S. as a cause for hypothyroidism, there are two reasons why it might be possible in my case. First, we don’t use iodized salt at home, which is the biggest reason why Americans don’t suffer from iodine deficiency. Second, we don’t eat a lot of processed foods, which are often made with iodized salt.

If iodine deficiency proves to be the root cause, the solution is simple: Eat things with iodine. If it’s not, the likelihood of needing synthetic thyroid hormone to regulate my system increases to “nearly certain”. I am exceedingly nervous about this. Dosing with synthetic hormone to regulate the endocrine system is a delicate balancing act, and carries the risk of doing things to my eyes that will force some very difficult and irreversible treatment to avoid optic nerve damage. Potentially, it is a very slippery slope. I’ll also admit I’m not a fan of having to be engaged in this balancing act for the rest of my life. I’m only forty years old, for crissakes! If my father’s side of the family (which I take after quite a bit) is any indication, I’m gonna see ninety with no problem. That’s 50 damn years of having to adjust meds and take trips to the doctor for blood tests and dealing with the worry that I might go blind! This is not appealing.

Of course, that’s a couple of blood tests down the road. In the meantime, I will continue to find ways to work around the fatigue and other things so I can live my life. I’ve got stuff to do, after all! Nobody living my life has time to be tired all the time!

Monday Meditation: The Freedom of Interdependence

Today I’m thinking about these two quotes:

“Interdependence is a fundamental law of nature. Not only higher forms of life but also many of the smallest insects are social beings who, without any religion, law, or education, survive by mutual cooperation based on an innate recognition of their interconnectedness. The most subtle level of material phenomena is also governed by interdependence. All phenomena, from the planet we inhabit to the oceans, clouds, forests, and flowers that surround us, arise in dependence upon subtle patterns of energy. Without their proper interaction, they dissolve and decay." --Dalai Lama

"A human being is part of a whole, called by us the 'universe', a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separate from the rest -- a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affectation for a few people near us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty." --Albert Einstein

To truly recognize that “I” am not really here, independent and separate of anything else, is a scary concept when looked at in a certain light. And yet, I’m finding a wonderful comfort in considering that I am not just here, but that I affect and am affected by everything else in the cosmos. I need not, therefore, seek reality outside myself because I am reality. True, I do not exist by way of my own character. For all that I can make choices, I am not self-powered or autonomous. Ultimately, all things -- including me -- exist in dependence upon causes and conditions. And yet, this is not a limiting or exclusive concept to my mind. In fact, I find it helps me to see with more clarity the universe and my place in it (such an oxymoronic phrasing that).

What does this mean to you? Is this a scary concept? Is it empowering? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Recovery Mode

I apologize for taking the week off from this space, but I’ve been having trouble getting out of a busy, hectic, draining funk, and I just needed to focus on doing that. I feel better, but I’m still awfully tired. I feel like I could sleep for days.

I’m trying not to get annoyed at the fact that I’m in this place; it just gives the negativity power, but I’ve missed the time to go to the gym or ride my bike or chill with people I love -- or do anything except grade papers, wring my hands over school stuff and try to stay ahead of the laundry and the dishes. To be fair, it isn’t a matter of physical time so much as the ability to find a mental and spiritual harmony in all that’s going on. I don’t multitask well and when there are too many balls in the air, like has been the case during the last week, it becomes a challenge to keep everything feeling like it’s working together. Sometimes, I can go into Emergency Mode for a short while to keep things from crashing to earth. Sometimes it happens that it all comes crashing down anyway, and Recovery Mode kicks in. That was last week.

I feel a little better about it all but I’m still in Emergency Mode, at least as far as school goes. Even though I have a week to go before April Break, I’ve got a lot of teacher work to do before then. Parent conferences are Wednesday and, while I actually look forward to talking with parents about their kids, there is much prep work to do beforehand if I’m to talk objectively about their performance, as well as compassionately about how to support them through the rest of the year. I have a unit on translation software for my Spanish II class that I realized late last week needs to be rebuilt and my first-year students have just handed me the outlines for their research papers -- all of which need to be reviewed by Wednesday so they can get their papers written by the time they get back from vacation.

I truly do not mind this work. It is part of a job I love deep in my heart (and yes, Mia, I really do love this stuff). When it competes with other parts of my world -- training, play time with my family, big picture thinking, the Community School -- the effort required to keep a harmony in all these endeavors can just prove too much even for Emergency Mode.

And so we will continue with Recovery Mode for a while. The good news is that eventually everything that was being juggled before will fall to the ground and I can start again.

8 Words.

Grading. Laundry. Heavy reading. Email. Car repairs.

Tired.

The Weekend in Quotes

“I know.” (NiNi, after Papa said, “You’re pretty.”)

“¡Cada vez!” (A Latino disc golfer, after hitting a tree -- apparently not for the first time)

“I’m first in my division!” (An older man, running along the beach today as I was passing him -- not as quickly as I might have wanted).

“Can I have some of my Easter candy?” (Both children, repeatedly, during the day until they were told what would happen if they asked again).

“Can we go into the hot tub?” (Both children, repeatedly, during the weekend while at Nana’s, until they were told what would happen if they asked again).

“Can we watch Harry Potter?” (Both children, repeatedly -- you get the idea).

“Will you do the thing with the thing when we get the thing?” (Mackenzie, who said enough in one class Friday to fill this post, but of which I can only remember this one quote.)

“Oh, we’d better just end this conversation right now!” (Rick, after I said that Boondock Saints was just not that good a movie).

“Do boxers try to hurt each other?” (SiSi)

“If you promise to stop making the [chat window] popping up, I will do all my make up work. Well, most of it. Maybe.” (Maeve, while accusing me of being responsible for Facebook’s idiosyncracies).

“Next year, the Easter Bunny should make a map.” (The Easter Bunny, after yet another year when not all the eggs were found).

A Poem for an Idyllic Saturday

I stand at the tee, disc in hand.
The park around me full
of life and warmth
cheerful in observance
of a holiday
without duty or obligation

Excited squeals
Of children frolicking
Finding frogs, chasing geese
Clangs of baseballs on aluminum bats
“Hey batta, batta! Swing batta!”
Lovers for many years walking, holding hands
Lovers of just a season luxuriating in each other
Under the gentle, welcoming sun

I close my eyes.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Three steps, uncoiling,

And I let the disc fly.

What do you do on Friday...

...when your students have finished their exams and it’s a glorious sunny spring day with temps around 75°F?


Send them outside for recess!

Happy Friday!

This is My Choice

I received this via email this morning. It has been edited to remove identifiers.

Last evening at a high school, I attended an internet safety/cyberbullying workshop led by a member of the regional DA's Office. The most immediate issue I wish to share is about Facebook and other social network sites. The workshop leader informed me that school personnel are being fired and losing licenses for not reporting (as mandated reporters) any information they see on Facebook about minors. Personnel are also being fired and losing licenses for associations with minors who may be indicted for internet criminal activity. I personally panicked, went home and chose to use Facebook ONLY for family and old high school/college friends. I defriended everyone else (sorry that means many of you as well). I want you to have this information so you can make your choices.

Here is my choice:

I choose not to live my life based on fear and I refuse to allow the threat of spurious litigation to intimidate me into hiding behind some misguided political definition of professional decorum. My teaching is first and foremost about relationships, so I choose to be open and transparent about my work and my interaction with students. I choose to take the opportunity presented by Facebook and other online tools to model responsible and respectful behavior, and use them for what they are -- tools for communication, and for building and cultivating quality relationships. I am a conscientious individual, and I take precautions to keep myself and those in my world safe from harm. I keep transcripts of all the online communications I have between students. I make sure parents are aware -- and approve -- of the fact that their children communicate with me. I don’t have a problem saying that something is inappropriate, or talking openly about how something might be construed. I do not tolerate bullying in my world in any form. If I see it going on, I *will* say something. If I see someone being threatened, I *will* come to their defense. This is as true online as it is in real life, for there is no difference between the two, and it is one of the foundations upon which my teaching practice is built.

If you are afraid to be open about who you are to your students, if you live a life outside of the classroom that you don’t feel you can appropriately share with them, and you don’t feel like you can be a part of your students’ lives in any other way than in a classroom, then you should absolutely avoid them in cyberspace. You should also avoid them in the mall or on the street or on the phone, for all these carry the same risks. I choose not to do this, but to wave enthusiastically and smile and take their hugs when they offer them and ask them how they are and really listen to the answer.

I choose not to be afraid. I choose to treat my students as important members of my personal, as well as my professional, world. I honor their work as adults-in-the-making and I respect their ways of communicating. I choose to work with them to teach them how to be responsible, respectful, thoughtful members of the online world, and to take care of each other as vigilantly as I would take care of them.

This is my choice. What would yours be?