A good process produces good results. ~ Nick Saban
Today I gave back my 7th graders’ research projects, so they could share them with the class. They only got the project back, not the grades. The students worked on them in class for a few weeks beginning with brainstorming topics and narrowing their research questions. Then they started gathering information, learning how to take notes without committing plagiarism, and citing sources. Then writing commenced.
The finished product could take a variety of forms as long as it had the required number of pages of research/writing. There were brochures, books, posters, and a scuba diving video with voiceover. We all learned a great deal of information on topics such as surfing waves, Ancient Egyptian makeup, bananas, and Presidential perks.
I heard the kids commenting during the week, but I finally asked them today, “What was the best part of this project?” Here were some of their responses:
“that we go to learn a lot of new stuff.”
“that we could pick our own topics.”
“that we got to work on it in class.”
“that I finished!”
The kids were all very proud of their work, and most of them did well. It strengthens the argument for giving students more choice of what to write and more time to live like writers. This plan is a keeper.
The cell phone has become the adult’s transitional object, replacing the toddler’s teddy bear for a sense of comfort and belonging. ~ Margaret Heffernan
Today was one of those days. Nothing really bad happened, but it didn’t exactly go as planned. I planned to get a good bit of grading finished before I left school, but emails and phone calls had me running behind. I had a 4:00 appointment, but I wanted to touch base with my principal before I left for the day. I stopped in his office, had a brief conversation, and left school with exactly enough time to make it to where I was going.
Halfway to my appointment, I realized I forgot my cell phone. I left it sitting on my desk at school. For a few minutes I was a little panicky. What should I do? I don’t have time to go back, would anyone still be at school if I called? I vacillated between admonishing myself for being in such a hurry that I forgot it in the first place and reprimanding myself for feeling so lost without my cell phone.
Luckily, when I got to where I was going, they let me use their phone. Luckily, my colleague was still in her classroom and was able to retrieve my phone and leave it in my mailbox, and luckily the outside doors at school were still unlocked when I got back there at 5:15.
I am home, and my phone is safe and sound on the coffee table. I think I have some reflecting to do on my relationship with my phone. I can do that later…after I finish my grading!
Memory… is the diary we all carry about with us. ~ Oscar Wilde
The car was packed and ready to go. All the essentials were in place: crab traps, bait, weighted lines, net, lunch, four sleepy kids, and two tired parents. We set off before the rising sun was even beginning to think about peeking through the night sky. By dawn we exchanged our station wagon for a weather-worn rowboat and carefully set out on the Chesapeake Bay.
It seemed like an eternity before Dad had the wire basket crab traps set – each one carefully tied to a bobbing gallon milk jug. Then he’d rev the engine, and we’d glide over the water like an airboat in the Florida Everglades. He would find the perfect spot and quiet the motor.
Each of us had our own space at the side of the boat. In turn we would cast our lines overboard hoping for a bite. The whole family sat quiet and still (which was VERY unusual for us) and waited and waited and waited – baking under the noonday sun. At last someone had a nibbler on their line. Slowly, very, very slowly they’d pull up the line. Mom or Dad would stand poised with the net ready to capture the prize. Everyone stopped, holding their breath until the crab was safe inside the bushel basket.
On occasion the net keeper would have poor aim and miss the basket sending the crab scampering around the boat’s bottom. This caused some of us to scream and rock the boat. We’d eventually fall into giggles when the catch finally reach its intended destination.
All too soon it was time to collect our loot and return to dry land. Once on terra firma the car was pack with the essentials: crab traps, weighted lines, net, and dinner. Four sleepy kids and two tired parents headed home with another memory traced on their hearts.
It’s not what you look at that matters; it’s what you see. ~ Henry David Thoreau
Today started out as most days do lately, I hit the snooze button more than once, I stretched my very stiff legs, and eventually slid out of bed and hobbled my way to the shower. Mornings are difficult. Some days I feel like the the tin man from the Wizard of Oz. I want to cry, “Oil can.”
When I got to school I had to collect and bag up the 90 shamrocks I spray glittered before I left yesterday and clean up the mess I made while doing it. Eight members of the NJHS were visiting the local assisted living facility to play St. Patrick’s Day trivia with the residents. We were bringing the shamrocks to brighten up their rooms.
As the day wore on, my desk became piles on top of piles, and I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to be able to finish grading. The end of the trimester nerves were beginning to set in. By the end of the day, I was tired and starting to calculate how long it would be before I was home and able to put my feet up for a little bit.
It was finally time for me to head over to Springhouse Estates. Just like the last time, the kids were great. They interacted with the residents, laughed at the way the women and one man interacted with each other, and answered all the questions posed to them. We finished our planned activity a little early, so I asked the residents to offer the 8th graders some words of advice.
“Don’t worry, be happy.”
“Go to church every Sunday.”
“Dance,”
“Travel while you are young.”
These were a few of their pearls of wisdom. As I listened I couldn’t help but be moved by the positive attitudes of these people who were on walkers, in wheelchairs, on oxygen, and motorized scooters. They were so happy and kept thanking the students for coming to see them. They were quick to share their stories, and the kids were attentive listeners.
Some mornings when my knees are locked from being in the same position all night, or when I am pulling myself up the stairs at school one step at a time I feel old. I wonder how I got to this place. I teeter on the brink of falling into a deep abyss of despair. It would be easy to do.
But today I was reminded that how I look at things doesn’t matter; it is what I see. Today I saw people who have experienced many, many things in their lives, and are not able to do the things they once did, but it does not stop them from finding joy in the little things each day. It does not stop them from being grateful.
I am not negating my aches and pains because they are real and sometimes very intense, but I have to remind myself that I have so much to be thankful for. I will keep the memory of this afternoon close to my heart, and when I get feeling sorry for myself use it to give myself a smack down. These senior sages have reminded me that the moments slip by too quickly to see what is right in front of me.
Aging is an extraordinary process where you become the person you always should have been. ~ David Bowie
I was the person who was always plagued with self-doubt. I was contemplative when I wanted to be witty, academic when I wanted to be athletic, second when I wanted to be first. It seemed as though I was always in someone else’s shadow. I wasted so much energy seeking someone else’s approval or affirmation. I spent too much time looking outward and seeing all the things my friends and colleagues were achieving, while remaining blind to my own accomplishments. I took humility to a whole new level.
In the past two years I have been through my husband making a job change and then losing that job, him finding another job and three months later having quadruple by-pass surgery, being a caregiver during his recuperation, struggling to make ends meet, losing my mother first to dementia and then to death, and then turning 60.
I think I am finally the person I should have been. I love learning and honing my craft(s), but my work does not define me as it use to. It is the life lessons that have made me who I am today. I know what is important and what isn’t, what I should be concerned about and what I shouldn’t, who will be there for me and who won’t.
As I have aged I have needed to lean on my husband, my children, my siblings, and my cane some days, but that is OK. When I lay my head down on my pillow each night, I know that I have given the best that I could to my students, my colleagues, my family, but most importantly to myself. I no longer need to search for validation.
Aging helped me put things into perspective, to see things with a clearer view, to stop worrying about what anyone else thinks I should do. When you get to what you know is the second half of your life (or quarter or eighth) you think about time in a whole new way and with a whole new appreciation for its passing.
I am who I always should have been – a wife, a mother, a mother-in-law, a nona, a sister, a teacher, a writer, a friend. I have learned who I can count on, who will be there for me, and who matters most in my life.
Long friendships are like jewels, polished over time to become beautiful and enduring. ~ Celia Brayfield
Today was my turn to host book club. Seven of the ten “Chapter Chicks” were present for lunch, laughs, and a little bit of book talk. We get together ten times a year to discuss books, but more importantly to discuss life.
We have been together for 15 years. Over those 15 years we have each had our ups and downs, and we have always had each other.
We have experienced:
milestone birthdays – deaths of a spouse – death of parents
birth of grandchildren – sicknesses of spouses – job loss
moves to new places – floods – fires
Wow, as I see it written here it almost sounds like the 12 plagues of Egypt!
Kidding aside, we have weathered many storms together. We may not talk to one another between gatherings, but we are always together in spirit. It started as a book club and grew into a sisterhood.
The most important thing in the world is family and love. ~ John Wooden
I have had a challenging week physically, and I was beginning to feel like I was just trying to make it from one day to the next. I was giving everything I had to my students and my responsibilities at school (which I love) and then finding that I had no energy left in the evening to do much of anything.
My husband doesn’t get home from work until after six these days, so we eat dinner later now. By the time dinner is cleaned up and lunch is packed (or thought about at least) I am just about ready for bed. I was beginning to feel a disconnect from my husband and the world.
Today was different. Chuck and I spent the whole day together. We ran errands and got some things accomplished around the house. We ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. We talked to both of our adult children and more importantly to each other. It was wonderful! Tonight I am going to sleep feeling renewed and reconnected.
Happiness consists not in having much, but in wanting no more than you have. ~ Lydia M. Child
This word prompt comes from The Five Minute Friday website for Christian writers. As I began reflecting on the word MORE, I thought about all the times I felt like I needed to be more, have more, do more in order to be what the world expected. There were times in my life when I felt “less than” because I believed that others in the world were more, had more, accomplished more than me. It took me a long time to learn to love my life just as it was at any given moment.
I don’t need more…
things to clutter up my home.
clothes to shove in my closet and be forgotten.
friends on social media
TV programs to mindlessly watch
credit card debt
I need more
smiles and laughter
days with my grandchildren
time with my husband
“playdates” with my close friends
meals shared together around the table
It also reminded me of a book I love to read to my students, Just Enough and Not Too Much by Kaethe Zemach. In this story, Simon the fiddler lived in a cozy little house and had everything he needed. One day he looked around and wanted more, so he started amassing a great quantity of different things until his house became too cluttered. He invited many friends over for a party. When the party was over he encouraged his friends to take all of his excess belongings. In the end Simon the fiddler was happy once more because he had just enough and not too much.
I strive to be like Simon – wanting just enough and not too much.
Unanswered questions aren’t threats: they’re challenges and catalysts. ~ Colin Wright
How can the student who never notices the homework assignments on the board
be the same student who sees the first snowflake and announces it to the entire class?
How can the paper I looked for five times in the pile on my desk
be the same paper that showed up on search number six?
How can the earring that has been missing for a month
be the same earring that turned up in the pocket of my robe?
How can the outfit I put on for work and felt good in the this morning
be the same outfit I was roasting in by the time I got to work?
How can the bell bottoms and peasant shirts I wore in the 70s
be the same styles that are making a comeback 40 years later?
I don’t know how or why, but somehow they just are.
Don’t just count your years, make the years count. ~George Meredith
I “borrowed” this form from Elisabeth Ellington who “borrowed” it from Fran McVeigh.
Since last March, I joined the gym.
The gym where I meet my sister on Monday nights for Aqua Fit class
The gym where I look longingly at the machines my body can’t handle
The gym where I walk in the pool & count the laps back and forth, back and forth
Since last March, I lost my mom.
The mom who was just seven weeks short of her 91st birthday.
The mom who never complained about her ailments
The mom who was happy all the time and grateful for the littlest things
The mom who inspired the hashtag #livelikelucy
Since last March, I celebrated the 1st anniversary of my husband’s quadruple bypass.
The celebration that reminded us of how lucky we both were
The celebration that took us to Lancaster, PA to see Jon Dorenbos
(the inspiration for the trip to the ER) in person
Since last year, I turned 60.
60 the age I use to think was old
60 that came with a new awareness of time
60 the age that I am grateful I have reached
Rita DiCarne 