Liz's Blog, or, No Clever Title

Is Anybody Out There?

2010-11-07T21:00:00.002-07:00

In the time I have been off blog the world has changed. Can we make it better again? I hope so. How would you change things if you were given the opportunity?

Is Merit Pay a Good Idea for Teachers?

2009-03-19T10:59:00.003-06:00

No, no and no! Because there are too many factors which a teacher can't control: the econony, familiy situations, death (of a student, or student's family member, for example), the weather (they are NOT cooling our rooms as much now to save money and in Arizona that can be devastating during standardized testing time), having a main-streamed yet challenged student (who brings down class averages) or having an especially difficult class. Not to mention personal challenges the teacher might be going through. No one, no where has addressed these issues when discussing merit pay. We all know teachers who have encountered these factors and he or she has no control whatsoever over them. Is that fair? It is the terrible, awful, no-good, very bad (to borrow from Judith Vorst) situation that is like keeping the whole class in from recess (unfair) or the unbelievably stupid "rewarding" of the students with trinkets, food or candy (see Alfie Kahn's brilliant, Punished by Rewards.)

It sounds easy; pay the "good" teachers. Yet the good teachers will tell you that some years a class does surprisingly well on standardized tests and no one seems to know why. Was it the lack of the above mentioned factors? Yes, sometimes, and no, sometimes. Teaching is as much art as it is science. (Invariable some expert will assign a reason, when it is simply inexplicable.)

Having taught for over thirty-one years I can tell you that I have seen it all. I have seen every half-baked fad that comes out of a big university be the latest and greatest and it seems to work, only to fall out of favor. Usually the reason is that teachers weren't following the program directly. Remember the "open classroom"? Few do, thank goodness.

Are there things that are low-cost and no cost that make for good teaching and self-motivation among students? You bet. Ask us old-timers why we are still here. Ask why we still love teaching?

The greatest compliment I ever got was when a student asked if I'd still teach if I won a million dollars. I didn't get a chance to answer because another student answered for me. "Yes, she would," he answered, " 'cause she loves to teach." That is real merit pay.

On Not Writing 25 things about Myself

2009-02-07T14:44:00.004-07:00

I have been tagged, as has nearly every breathing human in Facebook, to write 25 things about myself. I cannot bring myself to complete this and I can't give a really good reason other than it makes me feel extremely uncomfortable. I have read lots other people's lists, some funny, very few with any originality, and some were self-indulgently braggy and creepy. Mine would just be another list of facts or opinions, and quite honestly it would not be interesting; physical characteristics and quirky habits. Maybe it is because I am so ordinary, but I don't mind that. There is a kind of peace in ordinariness. So there will be no list of 25 things from me.

I Never thought I would see ...

2009-01-18T19:02:00.003-07:00

... the Arizona Cardinals heading to the Super Bowl.

Hey! Arne Duncan, are you listening?

2009-01-14T19:38:00.006-07:00

I wrote a whiny post because I heard some things about the new Secretary of Education, Arne Duncan, that has me very concerned. I changed my mind and deleted that post, but anytime Mr. Secretary wants the input of my thirty-one years of experience I will happy to pass it on.

I'M READY - GET OUT OF MY WAY!

2008-12-29T09:04:00.005-07:00

This past October I spent my fall break in an absolute frenzy of pitching and tossing at my folks house. It was not as bad as the Collyer brothers, two legendary pack rats, but it was getting close. My mom and step-dad only had about 20 years to fill up their house, so they were decades behind the Collyer siblings. Mom, prone to compulsive shopping, married a man who she knew to be a chronic collector. Not a good combination.

Don Aslett was the first to write about de-cluttering and his advice was simple; throw practically everything out, and don't buy anything you don't need. Brilliant? Yes. Easy to do? No. It is easy to do that with other people's stuff, like my mom's and step-dad. After that weekend I was ready to toss and that was where the problem started. I knew I could not do that to my own kids.

In de-cluttering one has to have a plan so that things go back to a logical place in order to retrieve things easily. (The rule of thumb is being able to locate something in under five minutes ... some even say a minute. Yikes!) Place number one to clean was the large hall storage area. Place number two the large walk-in pantry. The third place is the garage and the last, the two-story barn. Admittedly, half the garage and half the barn was old school stuff of mine. I came to the realization that even in these hard economic times most everything was useless. When my dear departed mother-in-law was moving out of her Arizona home, and was (we did not know it at the time but the signs were there) in the early stages of Alzheimer's, could not bear to throw anything out. She would give those things to me to carry to places such as the Goodwill and the old ladies at church. I did not have the time or energy to deliver an old bag of disgusting old shoes or tiny scraps of project materials, for example, to anyone so I threw them out. I did not tell that to my mother-in-law, however.

The next step, and I would think this would be obvious; one has to remove the stuff from whatever place is to be cleaned and go through it. THIS INVOLVES SPREADING IT OUT. The de-cluttering shows on TV do that as standard operating procedure, and I think that for MDH (my dear husband) he probably understood that on some deep level, but his memory is long and my reputation is bad on this account. I would spread it out. That's it. I would get it out and become totally paralyzed, leaving the back porch and an unused bedroom in chaos for years. Yes, years. So when MDH saw stuff from the hall closet spread out in the foyer (and believe me the contents of that hall closet were almost all his famous cleaning up method: putting it in a box and shoving it in a closet. When he saw the contents of the closet spread out he wanted to know (what he felt was a reasonable question) when it would be put away? He even offered to help. (Translate that!) To put it mildly he touched a very raw nerve; a root-canal-ish raw, tender nerve. I did what any reasonable, level-headed person would do; I blew a gasket.

We are on speaking terms again, but I now know that I must find another way to do this cleaning and that is the Neil Armstrong method of one small step for man (or woman) kind. And, taking a page from our president-elect, it must be done in a no-drama way. It must done a little at a time.

So, sadly, I was not able to clean up as planned, but being that angry takes a lot out of a person, and I would like to never have to go there again. (My dear old mother, who has this infuriating way of being wise far beyond wise, says that we only get mad when we are wrong. I don't think that is always true, but it is true often enough.) So, I must accept that the clean-up will take longer than I had hoped. Unlike most people we have the space and that is a problem in itself, but I will keep you posted, and for the time being the hall closet did get cleaned, but the boxes and boxes of photos will still have to be sorted. Those will not be tossed.

In the meantime, the garbage cans are full.

Guess What's the Biggest Road block to Cleaning Up?

2008-12-27T16:52:00.002-07:00

My husband.

Sixteen Days: DAY 1 of the Great Clean Up

2008-12-20T07:07:00.005-07:00

Our school district had originally planned for the teachers to come back on Monday, December 23rd as a work day! Rumor was that the vast majority of teachers would mysteriously be too ill to come in that day. Needless to say, the school board members had an attack of common sense (very rare indeed!) and scrapped that idea. This is the first Christmas Holiday in years where we actually have two FULL weeks off, and that translates into three full weekends: sixteen days off. I have plans!

We have a barn which is guarded by Nora, the cat. (I inherited Nora from my daughter and she loves living in the barn by herself. She doesn't know she is a cat.) I am not exaggerating about Nora 's job. No stray cat would dare come into her domain. Unfortunealetly, our barn has become the receptical of all sorts of old junk. Unlike the rest of country, there are few houses here that have basements and attics, which is where most people send old junk that they plan to sort through someday. I don't plan on doing much sorting. Is that old crappy stuff going to suddenly become collectible, a la' "Cash in the Attic"? I seriouly doubt it. Remember that great line from "The Sound of Music" where the nuns try to give Maria's dress to the poor and poor don't want it. There is nothing out there that anyone would want. If I do find anything worthwhile I promise to take it Goodwill. Having spent my October break cleaning out my folks junk , I would never do that to my own kids. My plan is to throw out everything! Sorting is not even an option.

I also plan on cleaning out the pantry and my junk out of the garage, too. I figured that if I put my intentions out in public I would have to be accountable for my progress. Also though, I am tired of stuff, and lord, I DO NOT want to have to feed and care for, no, actually we have neglected all this junk. There will never be the right time to sort through it.

I will post my progress. This is the best Christmas present I have ever given Gary .... or myself.

Wish me luck!

Parents Who Bully Teachers

2008-12-13T17:37:00.004-07:00

(This is Part II of "Parents as Bullies".)

I reported the bully parent to the police because she put my students in danger and frightened them. That was more than crossing the line. The bully parent apparently does not think it was a big deal but my district does (now) and has restricted her movements on campus. She must check into the office (as all parents are required to do) but may not go to any classroom without authorization. I have banned her from my classroom. She still may attend any public functions at the school, but she is on notice that if she decides to push the issues she will banned from the campus permanently.

Also, the district has said that I do not have answer or address any of the issues that are outside the realm of her son's IEP (individual Educational Program as mandated by the government) since we have consistently gone above and beyond for issues of his IEP. This should put an end to the barrage of daily emails and notes.

The bottom line is that this bully parent still does not get it. Undoubtedly she will push some other issue but her credibility is gone. She acknowledged she was extremely angry when she barged into my classroom and was in a rage over something she considered a slight. Originally, I had volunteered to do something on a daily basis for her son which was NOT a part of his IEP. It had not been done the day of her rage because it was raining and I was required to let my students in 25 minutes earlier than usual and I had overlooked it. She took it as a personal affront. What can I say? She was consumed with righteous indignation over something that was being done as a personal favor to her. There is no dealing with people who feel that sense of entitlement. That is pretty much a hallmark of a bully parent.

I still do not know if the police will charge her. She could be charged with a felony. If she is, she could lose her state license in her profession. I saw on line that she has already had complaints filed against her and she has only been in the state less than two years. We had a close family member who was in the same profession for forty years and never had a single complaint.

For any teachers reading this, parents who are bullies cannot be placated. One seemingly harmless, but unreasonable request leads to another and another. The bully parent feeds on the power of making you comply with her wishes. I knew this immediately but was told to go along. It was only a matter of time before this came to a head.

My principal and district have backed me fully, but they did not do so immediately. I made it clear that I was reporting the incident to the police whether they liked it or not. As the incident and the history of the mother's bizarre behavior came to light things changed, and they came around. I feel vindicated now but it was not easy.

Parents as Bullies, Part I

2008-12-07T11:22:00.007-07:00

The day before Thanksgiving I had a parent come into my classroom and put my students and me in danger. In fact, according to Arizona state Law, she committed a crime. My students knew something bad was happening and I had seconds, literally, to decide how to react. Most of the kids scattered out of her way knowing the mom has, and will continue to harass anyone who she believes has not complied with her endless demands of entitlement for her challenged child, the poor kid. I chose to not react, thinking that remaining calm would send a message to the students and defuse the parent's furious anger. The mother left, triumphant. SHE had shown me. I acted like nothing happened.

The children in my class are, in fact, very good and kind to this boy and are actually protective of him. They include him in play, even though it is like having a demanding five-year-old involved. This boy really does not know better, but has shown enormous improvement academically and socially. This is the best group of students I have ever had and the only problem I have had was one with this challenged boy. Actually, the problem was with another teacher but I was left holding the “discipline bag”, so to speak. That was where the problems started with mom.

In mainstreaming this boy, his IEP (Individual Educational Plan which is a federal mandate for all special education students) states that if the child breaks school rules the consequences will be the same as other children, that is, detention. Mom disagreed to the point of verbally attacking me and, her usual threat, of calling her lawyer. Deciding that this was not worth the fight I said we would handle it the way she wanted. Her decision? To have him go to detention, which he never actually served. This was where the abuse towards me started.

To make a long story short, an endless stream of demands that were far outside his IEP began, and abusive and accusatory emails began, including things she made up. I was told that nothing really could be done, and to please put up with these things. I agreed as I thought it best for the child. Things escalated until the day before Thanksgiving.

I will spare you the details of the incident, but because no one ended up being physically injured the reaction was, “How can it be abuse if no one was physically harmed?” According to state law the INTENT was there which makes it a crime and since it took place in a classroom, a felony.

This past week there was an episode of Dr. Phil where parents told stories of teachers bullying students. I know that things like that happen. We all do, and it must stop. Interestingly, I was only able to Google two articles that addressed parents bullying teachers. (I guess this will be the third.) Where this woman crossed the line was the danger that she put my students in. I can't even imagine HER reaction had another parent behaved as she did.

In talking with others about this, almost all the teachers I know have been bullied by parents. My sister, who teaches in an expensive private school, says that bullying parents are not that unusual (parents who put teachers and students in physical danger are something that has not happened at her school. Her school seems to believe that isn't abuse, either.) Most teachers tell me that they comply with the demands of bullying parents. I have had only one other parent in 31 years who was a bully (he owned a collection agency so I chalked that up to the normal way he talked with everyone.)

Here is my question to my readers (not to you who DO know the details), what do you think of this? How would you react as a teacher? As a parent? What should be the consequences? I surely do not want to advocate a victim mentality here, but I have a feeling that what took place in my classroom, that is, endangering and reckless behavior, is not that unusual.

What do you think? Please let me know.

The Sad and Untimely Passing of Mabel the Beagle

2008-11-29T08:23:00.006-07:00

Below is the email I sent to my blogfriend, Neva. Neva and I have never met in person but her care and support has been unconditional. Here are the emails we exchanged, I put them in the order from first to last:

Our dear Mabel was put to sleep an hour ago; less than 6 hours after this ordeal began and yesteday she apperaed to be fine.C.H. and I took her to the emrgency vet clinic immediately. At first she thought it was pancreatitis, and we left Mabel there to be x-rayed and for them to do blood work. The doctor did not know what was wrong with her at first but after x-rays suspected a tumor on her spleen. She wanted to do surgery to find out if the tumor was benign or malignant. In the meantime we would have to bring her home and wait a week for the results and chances that it was malignant were very high. None of the options were good for Mabel. We called back and forth trying to decide what to do. The doctor was very honest in her statistics and all was very bad. I said I would make the decision to put her to sleep. The surgery would just put her in more pain. When I called the doctor back the first thing she said was, "You've made the right decision." When C.H. and I went back to be with her, her condition had worsened. She was hemorrhaging badly, which meant that surgery would NOT have been the answer. The doctor said that probably what happened this morning was that she started to hemorrhage, then that initial hemorrhaging relieved her some what, then when it started again it became apparent that she would not make it. It is unbelievable that all this started at 6:15 this morning. I said dear, perfect Mabel deserved dignity.

Only another dog lover would undertsand.

From Neva:

OH Liz.....I am sooo so sorry.....it sounds like the right thing to do for Mabel....but how hard was that?? It is so hard to make a decision when you value your pet and I know when Mason died ( in our kitchen I might add) it was not a pretty picture and lacking in dignity as well...not to mention how ill he must have felt......If you need to talk ...I am here......hugs your way....Love neva

To Neva:

Thank you so much for the comforting words. The doctor had said of one of the possible (bad, and they were all bad) outcomes was that she might have another 4 - 6 weeks. Another dog to die around Christmas? No.

The unbelievable thing was that it all happened so fast. When we got to the vet's offcie to put Mabel to sleep she was dying at that point. Neither C.H. or Gary wanted to say "put her to sleep" and I knew somebody had to say it. Here is another thing, it truly wasn't the money either. I thought if money were absolutely no object what would I do, and yes, it was a good chunk, but we dog lovers know that we will do whatever needs to be done for our pets. That's part of having a pet. It's the bargain we strike with out pets, even though they never actually signed on. It is the unwavering trust they put in us. The bottom line was that no one wanted Mabel to suffer needlessly and putting a sick dog through surgery wouldn't have been for her, it would have only been to relieve our own guilt.

My Students Eye-Witness to Historic Election

2008-11-02T07:45:00.005-07:00

Our school's library is a voting place. There is only one class room between the parking lot and the library and that is my class room. My students probably won't even be able to use our door due to the expected crowds. Talk about visual aids! Even though they will not be voting I know the most powerful lesson will be seeing the thousands of people lined up outside their 6th grade class room to vote.

I can hardly wait.

A Puzzling Parent/Teacher Conference

2008-10-19T13:41:00.004-06:00

Below is part of an email I sent my daughter. The child in the following email is new to our school. He has a large blended family and a step - sibling in 6th grade, whom he has never lived with. These children are not allowed to play together because my student, "Justin" (not his real name) has been a bully and too rough. Justin's mother has been mad at our school because the study team denied her request for granting a 504 plan to her child who has an insulin pump.

"My conferences went very well. The only sad thing was the conference of Justin, the diabetic boy, who had been such a pill since the first of the year. I had advised his mother at the beginning of the year that he needed to change his attitude, and miraculously he did a 180 degree turn around especially since he has learned to love reading. I had emailed the mom about three weeks ago to tell her that Justin's attitude and academics were improving enormously. You remember that I always ask the kids to come along with their parents to the conference. She told me he was scared to come! I told her that was surprising as I had told him that it was going to be a very good conference. At the conference I told the mom that in all my years of teaching I had never seen a child's attitude toward school change so much. Here's what is so weird, and I do not know what to make of it, she didn't react at all. Her indifference was deafening. This is the same woman who was willing to do (and I hate this term, too) whatever it takes to see that her son get his 504 plan. I told her too, that since the attitude change his diabetes was much more under control. Her supposed great interest in her child's health absolutely was not there. It was cold, cold, cold; like an over-the-top character from a Mary Higgins Clark novel, but this was real. "

Why would this mother not be happy for her child?

My First Deleted Post

2008-10-06T06:37:00.002-06:00

I wrote a post that was supposed to be a vent, but it was close to being mean-spirited. Not horrible or vicious just whiny and self-pitying.

Have you ever written a post and then deleted it? My deleted post is probably somewhere out in cyber-world. We all know that whatever goes into cyber world is there forever. Would I suffer great shame because of it? Probably not, but as my dear old mother used to say, "Don't ever put in writing anything you don't want the whole world to see." That was long before the blogs. How very wise. I really didn't want the whole world to see that post.

You read it here first.

2008-09-21T08:32:00.003-06:00

Last winter when the sub-prime mess started its domino-like collapse I suggested maybe something good would come out of this mess. This last week we saw the financial markets implode, too. Am I still willing to say something good will come out of this? You betcha!

Maybe, just maybe all those folks who wanted to be wealthy and are now out of a job might think about going into teaching (or any of the helping professions, for that matter.) When I went to college in the 1960’s, yes I AM that old; women went into teaching, nursing or business. The ones with business degrees became secretaries and were often more educated than their bosses. I went into teaching because I came from a family of teachers, actually from generations of teachers going all the way back to Prudence Crandall, one of America’s most famous educators.

We were often told in our education classes that “You don’t go into education for the money.” Now I would guess professors could tell their students, “You can go into teaching because they will always need teachers.” It could be that there might even be a teacher glut, as happened when I graduated in 1970. Also, here in Arizona we were told, jokingly (or not), that we were paid in sunshine. Actually, we were paid far below the national average. The districts in the teacher glut days were in the position of the business, financial and computing worlds of the last couple of decades, of being able to pick the best of the best and for a few years, being a teacher was a job of respect.

Maybe this is coming full circle. Now (most teachers my age have taken early retirement) age is actually on my side and I get the respect that older folks used to get. My students and parents know that I am teaching because I want to, not because I have to.

Young people entering college, and perhaps those who have lost their jobs in the business, financial and computing worlds, will decide that teaching is a secure job. Yes, my job is secure, but, and I know I keep saying this, it is a job where the perks never show up in the paycheck.

Yesterday, my husband and I went to Subway where a former student who was working there called out to me. I asked her if she was going to college, because I have always pushed higher education. “You said I had to! Remember? And boy, you were right!” Sweet words. Maybe she’ll decide to teach.

Planning Time (or Previous Blog, Part II)

2008-09-18T19:12:00.006-06:00

Here are some updates, of sorts, from the previous blog:

We are finding out that most schools in our district have a supervised recess time, usually 3 to 5 times a week. Our principal says that the teachers complained they needed blocks of time to teach and were given that. I think that there was some miscommunication. No one knew they were giving up our 3 time a week recess. On Tuesday and Thursday we have no break after P.E., which is first thing in the morning. We then go 3 1/2 hours straight until lunch. It's a long haul.

Junior high and high school teachers get the 1/2 before and after school prep time, plus a full 50 minute period EVERY day. Our 30 minute specials are really 20 minutes because we, of course, have to walk our kids back and forth. Also, we lose an additional 30 minutes prep time per week due to duty schedule.

I knew when I started teaching, in 1970, that it wasn't easy, but the paper work has become enormous and absolutely everything MUST be documented. I have an Autistic child in my class which means he has a 504 aid with him. She, however, is not my classroom aid. She is entitled - by state law - to a 15 minute break every day. She does not have to go with him to specials. Why am I not entitled to that same break? Oh yes, teachers don't go to the bathroom.

I know there are many of teachers who are strictly from the book and never create any of their own materials. I can't do that, so I suppose I could get back a lot of time that way, but the students and I would be catatonic. The results from tailoring the material make it worth it to me.

Would I go into teaching today? I truly do love what I do. It is so enormously gratifying. I do feel I make a difference. The public doesn't respect teaching because so many teachers don't respect themselves or value what they do. Yes, I would still teach. It is my calling.

ATTENTION ALL ELEMENTARY SCHOOL TEACHERS!

2008-09-14T19:35:00.005-06:00

Here are my questions:
(1.) What are your specials (P.E., Music, Art and Media Center/Library) and how often do you have them?
(2.) Do your students have a recess? (Not including lunch recess.)
(3.) Is it a daily recess?
(4.) Morning or afternoon, (gulp?) both?
(5.) Does an aid supervise or do you supervise your own students?
(6.) How much planning time do you get per day/week?
(7.) Are there days when you you get no am or pm breaks?
(8.) Do you have a computer lab?
(9.) Do you have a full time person to run the computer lab?

Here are my answers to the above questions:
(1.) P.E. - one half hour, twice a week
Music, one half hour, once a week
Art, one hour, every other week but on Monday so we lose quite a number to Monday holidays.
Media Center/Library, one half hour, once a week
(2.) One 15 minute recess every other week on the Monday we don't have Art.
(3.) No daily recess.
(4.) Neither
(5.) No recess
(6.) Planning time: 30 minutes before and after school, and the days we have specials. A total of 7 1/2 per week. (These include the times for specials.)
(7.) The Mondays we don't have Art we have no breaks from 7:50 -12:05.
(8.) We have a computer lab.
(9.) We have no one to help in the computer lab.

Please let me know. If I just put in that time I would never get anything done. As with most teachers I come in very early and stay very late and more often than not work on weekends. That is the way it has always been. However, we used to have a 15 minute supervised recess everyday and it was necessary for both the teachers and the kids. Now that is gone. Maybe we were just terribly spoiled.
P.S. For those of you who say to quit my bitching because I ONLY work 9 months of the year, I would remind you that I don't work a 40 hour week. It is, as with most teachers, at least 60, and we now work 10 months. By the way, I spent 2 weeks of my summer vacation taking classes that were required for my certification. I did not get paid for them, either. The best part of the job is, of course, the kids. There are few jobs that have that benefit.

A Sad Day for Public Schools

2008-09-10T20:49:00.004-06:00

One of the teachers at our school came in to talk with me. She commented about a list of words I had on the board. I explained it was one of our language lessons where the class had brainstormed about words that were trite, words like cute, nice, awesome were among the most obvious. We filled up the board and the kids came up words that were insightful and clever, for example, the sarcastic, "What?What?", always said in a sneering manner. They understood that it had become overused and meaningless. The journal entry for the next day was for the students to listen for people using trite words. Lastly, the kids used their thesauruses to look up words to replace their favorite trite words. The lessons, quite obviously, were about raising their awareness of trite words and how they do little to foster written and spoken communication. The kids got it and were genuinely surprised at how often we use trite words. The teacher continued to look at the board and finally said, "What does that mean? What does trite mean?" This woman is probably in her thirties and was more than likely taught by teachers who didn't know how to write. Teachers who didn't have a love of language and its nuances. I can't blame her, but I can honestly say that for just a second I thought she was joking, but no, she didn't know what trite meant. It makes criticism of public schools valid. It also made me feel immensely sad.

Husband at IKEA - Not as Whiny as Usual

2008-08-26T20:45:00.005-06:00

I think for every ten trips to Home Depot there should be at least one trip to IKEA. Right now the Gary owes me 257 trips to IKEA. Okay, a slight exaggeration.

Gary hates IKEA. He doesn't like their style of furniture, or, in fact their style of anything. After several trips to promising places, even William Sonoma, we haven't had any luck finding a stainless steel dish drainer to go in the sink, a stainless steel electric can opener (under the cabinet-type), or stainless steel paper -towel holder to replace the pathetic plastic one (and the only type available eons ago) under the cabinets. We finally decided to try IKEA. No luck. We did find a stainless steel tea-pot, and two pillow shams, but nothing else. I am getting close to not caring. I will have to do more Internet searching.

Nevertheless, Gary griped through the entire store, but he didn't gripe as much as usual and he didn't complain that any part of his body hurt. That practically made the trip a success. We have become the older couple when we go out. At least we still talk when we go out to eat.

The problem is there has to be some equity. Gary needs to learn to not be so whiny when we go to my stores, and I will continue to be my cheerful self when we trek over to Home Depot.

Happy First Day of Kindergarten, Tom

2008-08-19T21:01:00.003-06:00

Dear Thomas,

I wish I could be there for your first day of Kindergarten. I know you will do wonderfully and make lots of new friends (as you always do.) This is a new chapter in your young life and a new chapter for all of us. You are my first grandchild in Kindergarten. The time will fly. Have fun and learn to love to learn.

I love you and am so proud of you,
Love,
Nana Lizzie

Bullying, the Series, Part I - Sarcasm

2008-08-13T19:37:00.004-06:00

Most people think they know bullying. They don’t. Movies and television have made the stereotypical bully a literal character. Think Eddie Haskell of “Leave It To Beaver.” The truth is bullies know how to fly below the radar. I will show you how to spot bullies. The following applies to elementary schools through college and to ANY workplace or home environment on planet earth. You might even be a bully and not be aware that you speak “Bullyease”.

Sarcasm

Bullies are sarcastic towards people. Don’t get me wrong, there is a time and a place for sarcasm, but not towards others, and especially never toward children.

A favorite expression of bullies is:
“I was just kidding,”

or, it’s evil twin;

“Can’t you take a joke?”

When people use those pathetic excuses, vacate the premises. Sarcasm, such as the joking or kidding variety contains one or all of these four intentions:

-to be hurtful
-to feel superior
-to be right and therefore make someone else wrong
and
to humiliate.

Next time someone says to you “I was just kidding,” or “Can’t you take a joke?” look them in the eye and ask, “What exactly is your intention?” because I can bet it will be one of the above reasons. Bullies sputter and bluster and immediately try to put you on the defensive, which is one the very favorite weapons in bullyworld. You can then say, “That’s what I thought.”

Yes, there is a time and a place for sarcasm; the weather, egotistical public figures, the economy, politics, greedy companies that exploit for profit, are all fair targets for sarcasm. However, too often sarcasm is a pathetic replacement for wit and humor. The vast majority of the time sarcasm is mean-spiritedness in a sorry clown costume.

The mean-spirited, humiliating, righteously indignant and hurtful sarcasm has been banned from my classroom and home for years. I haven’t missed it.

Sheesh! What about Free Speech?

2008-08-05T20:20:00.005-06:00

Word came down in our district that we can't blog because the news media combs the district email and blogs to find good stories. They certainly have the right to look at any of my district emails as that is all public information. Our district has industrial-strength firewalls so that I couldn't look at THIS blog at school if I wanted to. They even block ALL the graphics on Wikipedia. (However, they haven't managed to keep the pesky pornographic emails from coming in. I have to make sure there are no students around when I open my email as the latest ads for "enhancements" are there for all to see.) The district can't prevent us from blogging. Surely they know that. Our district doesn't seem to understand that we may write what we please in our blogs, but we certainly must be mindful no to slander, libel or plagiarize. Is there really anyone who doesn't understand that? Evidently not.

I haven't written anything in my blog that I would be embarrassed to have any one of my students see. If I have written about a student I have changed his/her name. My dear old mother always said, "Don't put anything down in writing you don't want the whole world to see." She said that decades ago, long before there was an inkling of a world wide web.

If anyone from any news outlet should happen to stumble upon my little blog and find a good story, please share it with the world, and yes, my district should most certainly keep their noses out of my blog and stick it .... whoops. (That was not going to be a child-friendly comment. ) It sounds like some tech people have entirely too much time on their hands.

Is this a coincidence?

2008-07-23T11:26:00.009-06:00

My sixth grade girls cover their notebooks with Tinkerbell stickers. They love Tinkerbell. Tinkerbell paraphernalia is on back-backs, t-shirts and purses. This past year I noticed that Tinkerbell was bearing an uncanny resemblance to the pin -up art of Alberto Vargas. Yuck! Do you think the Disney merchandisers saw that, too? You bet they did. I think that is really creepy.

What do you think?

Happy Birthday, Alexandra!

2008-07-05T15:37:00.005-06:00

Thirty-one years ago, on 7/6/77 our beautiful baby girl came into our family. Happy Birthday!

Bullying, the Series. Coming to this Blog.

2008-07-02T18:32:00.006-06:00

As the school year gets underway there will be the usual stories in the news about the problems of bullying at school. There will be quotes from experts (who are always eminent) and lists of things that your child can do to deal with bullies and very little of it will be worth while. I have a different approach. Has it erased bullying in my classroom? No, not completely, but I can promise some new insights that will help both you and your child.

Here is your first lesson:

- think back to times you have been bullied and how you handled it.

- think back to times you were the bully and why you bullied someone ( bullying siblings counts) and yes, I think everyone has experienced both. Why? Here's something to think about - because bullying works and being bullied works, too.

What I learned at the dump

2008-06-30T07:10:00.008-06:00

I know, I know. Dump is not a politically correct name, land fill is the pc word, but it is also the recycling center. I actually learned some tidbits that I thought I would pass on to the blog world, as there is so much green-consciousness going on.

THINGS YOU CAN'T RECYCLE THAT YOU PROBABLY THOUGHT YOU COULD:

- plastic grocery bags - I know you are encouraged to turn them in at the grocery store but we learned they can't be recycled. What do they do with them?

- yogurt cups - they are considered contaminated with food, and can't be cleaned.

- pet food bags - same as with yogurt cups.

-paper towels - same as with yogurt cups and pet food bags.

SOME OF THE THINGS YOU CAN RECYCLE:

- anything with a screw cap - just make sure it is rinsed out.

THE GUILT TRIP:

- there are people who hand sort through all the recycling that goes by on a conveyor belt to remove anything things that can't be recycled. Makes you think carefully about what goes into the recycling, doesn't it?

I DID IT!!!!!

2008-06-26T13:25:00.002-06:00

After years of fruit less (and hairy) effort, after years of trying to follow directions that were complicated enough for a nuclear scientist, after feeling klutzy and incompetent I was finally able to put my hair in a French Twist. Ta da!

Ah, you may think that is a pitiful accomplishmnet unless you have tried it yourself. It didn't look perfect but it was a recognizable French Twist, and I am shamelessly proud of myself.

“You will not die …

2008-06-16T19:39:00.005-06:00

…of embarrassment,” I assured my squirming six graders as I passed out permission slips for the G&D program. That’s “Growth and Development” or, as we used to say back in the day, “The Birds and the Bees.”

My sweetest little girl, Annie, came to me took a deep breath and said, “I might be the first.”

I am happy to say she lived through the experience.

By the way, sixth graders are still babies. They like hugs and bringing in treats for the class on their birthdays. They may see more on the movies and television than we ever did but they don’t, I can promise you, know anymore than the rest of us did long, long ago. I think it is always a healthy sign that it makes them blush.

THE ETHICS OF KID LOGIC

2008-06-11T20:16:00.003-06:00

My sixth graders were asking me what kind of games I played when I was a kid. I told them that we played a lot of board games.

“Like what?” astounded there would be such a coincidence as that.

“Well, I guess you could say I played Monopoly with my older sister, Bonnie.”

“You guessed you played? What do you mean?” That was a murky answer.

“My sister was a notorious cheater.”

“She was?”

“Oh, terrible! She would, for instance, claim that she could collect $400 when she passed ‘GO’ because she was older.”

Then Keegan (not his real name) said one of those gems that only kids can come up with: “At least if you’re gonna cheat you should be fair about it.”

Truer words were never spoken.

Hooray! Hooray! and Hooray!

2008-05-22T18:08:00.002-06:00

Our “graduation” ceremony was a spectacular success. The audience was respectful. Our principal advised them that this was “not a sporting event or popularity contest” and shouting or whooping would not be appropriate. Most of the kids dressed up and they usually don’t act so goony if they are dressed nicely. It does set a tone.

There were only a couple of parents who brought flowers, gifts or balloons. My students commented to me, as we waited to file in, “They weren’t supposed bring those, were they?” I didn’t have to answer as one student said, “Those aren’t our parents.”

It was a lovely ceremony, and yes, under these circumstances I would do it again. As Joy pointed out it should have been common sense, but it wasn't, and for those people who lack that lovely gene, at least they listened (or listened to their children) and that is all around amazing.

P.S. Instead of being well over 100 degrees as it usually is at this time of the year, it is currently 59 degrees and raining. This is a first after 38 years in Arizona.

Can we avert another disastrous graduation?

2008-05-19T19:53:00.004-06:00

Last year our sixth grade "graduation" was marred by behavior that was beyond egregiously rude BY THE ADULTS IN THE AUDIENCE!!! (I blogged about this in May of 07.) This year we decided to hold the ceremony in the morning (less time to drink and fewer rowdy siblings.) I will let you know the outcome.

Also, the girls, who had begged to dress up, came in outfits that made them look like junior hookers. What can I say?

Below is a copy of the letter we sent to parents and guardians this year. I wonder if we'll seee a difference. (I am hoping this is the last year we will have 6th grade "graduations" as it has gotten so out of hand.)

Dear Parents/Guardians,

The school year 2007- 2008 is coming to a close. The last day of school, May 22, 2008 your sixth grader will be participating in a culmination ceremony at 9:00 a.m. in the multi-purpose room. If you choose to do so you may check your child out for the day at the conclusion of the ceremony, or he/she may stay to the end of the regular school day.

There are a few guidelines concerning the ceremony. Children are encouraged to dress up for the ceremony but this should not include having to buy anything new. Clothes that would normally be worn to church would be ideal; long pants and nice shirts for the boys (no t-shirts or shorts) and dresses for the girls; no spaghetti straps, backless or strapless dresses for the girls.

We would also request that this ceremony be respected. It is not a sporting event nor a popularity contest; shouting, hooting or chanting are embarrassing for your child and simply not appropriate. Preferably, gifts, flowers and balloons should be given to students at home and would be distracting to the event. We hope the adults in attendance will be good role models.

If you have any questions, please contact your child’s teacher.

Sincerely,

ICHING -ARGHHHHHH!

2008-04-20T20:22:00.003-06:00

This past week I got very sick with a cough (thank you students!). My doctor doesn't do "walk-ins" so I had to go to Urgent Care. Unbeknownst to me the old Urgent Care was closed up. I called my dear hubby in a despair who found a new one that was close by.

The young physician’s assistant wrote me prescriptions for a nuclear strength cough medicine and antibiotics. A few hours later I had broken out in a terrible rash. By morning my face was swollen and my lips looked like Goldie Hawn’s grossly enhanced lips in “The First Wives Club.” My hands, feet, waist and the area above my arms on my back look like leprosy. Even my ears are red and itchy! Dear Gary helped me call various places and I got a new prescription. He even volunteered to go pick it up for me. In the meantime the rash has spread and gotten much, much worse, although the coughing isn’t as bad. Is that improvement?

Usually when I have had a long run of really good health I can’t help myself and brag about it which, as everybody knows, is the surest way to tempt fate, but this time I didn’t. I am as miserable with the icthing as I was with the coughing. Surely there is a lesson to be learned here but I’ll be damned if I can figure it what it is.

Secrets of Standardized Testing

2008-04-06T19:58:00.010-06:00

Tomorrow we start our AIMS, which is Arizona's Standardized testing. *sigh*

Secret#1 - Read the questions first. Even better - read the questions and answers first. Then you don't panic about the questions because you will know the questions and the answer choices.

Secret #2 - It's multiple choice:THEY GIVE YOU THE ANSWER!!!!! You have a 25% even if you just guess. (Forget the old thing about the "C" answer as a guess, that was back before they had computers mix up the answer choices.) Actually, if the questions and answers are read carefully the answers become obvious.

Secret #3 - This may sound hokey but it absolutely does work; imagine that you GET TO TAKE THIS TEST! Seriously, this does work. Your subconscious mind does what you tell it, and if you think something will be awful - bingo! it will be awful. If you think you get to do something it puts it in a whole new, and postitve light.

Secret #4 - After having taught for 30 years I can tell you that people who do well on tests use the above secrets. They know not to get stressed because that is self-sabotage. I promise, if you don't do well on a test no one will take you out back and shoot you.

Secret #5 - No matter how well I prepare my students, the scores are always a shock; some do far better than I hoped and some seemed to have not brought their brains along. Testing is a bigger crap-shoot than anything Vegas ever came up with. Nothing can be done about the teachers and students who cheat either, except that it always catches up with them eventually, and yes, there is a lot of cheating. (Statistically it is nearly impossible for an entire class to make unbelieveable gains in one year, but a blind eye is turned to that. Oh, well.)

NEW GRANDSON. Hooray! Welcome David!

2008-03-17T19:58:00.003-06:00

I am off to meet my new grandson. The adoption went through much faster than anticipated so I have been a woman possessed getting ready. I am packed and lesson plans are on my desk for the Monday the 24th. (This week is spring break.)

Check out my daughter's blog (Beso Mami -link below) for pictures of this beautiful young man.

Big brother Tom and big sister Lily are adjusting well.(Do they realize that Baby David is staying?)

I SEE ....... TRENDS

2008-02-27T16:04:00.002-07:00

I SEE:

- A DECLINE IN CONSPICUOUS CONSUMPTION.

- THE HOUSING FORECLOSURE RATE WILL GET MUCH WORSE.

- THERE WILL A GLUT OF UNSOLD NEW CARS AND TRUCKS.

- PARIS HILTON WILL FADE FROM VIEW.

-ALTHOUGH THIS MIGHT SOUND STRANGE SOMETHING GOOD, AND TOTALLY UNFORSEEN WILL COME OUT OF THE BAD; PERHAPS A NEW , SAFE ENERGY SOURCE, FOR EXAMPLE. (I know that could cover a lot of things.)

Happy Birthday, Tom!

2008-02-11T20:59:00.000-07:00

Today is my grandson's 5th birthday.

Here he is with his beautiful mother.

Happy Birthday, precious Tom.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

2008-02-03T12:30:00.000-07:00

We had a leak behind the dormer on our steeply pitched roof. I climbed up there with Gary to slap on the tar and flashing to repair the leak. Got my hands and clothes covered in tar but we think we did a good job.

I am especially proud of myself because I AM DEATHLY AFRAID OF HEIGHTS.

Vent.Vent.Vent.Vent.Vent,

2008-01-31T17:16:00.000-07:00

I started to write a whiny vent, had to leave to get groceries as the cupboard was bare, came back and thought better of it.

Suffice to say that sometimes venting is exactly the right thing to do, that one needs to have friends and blogger friends who will sympathize, but this was not the time.

It is wonderful though, to know that there are people I will never meet, who will say comforting things, and that is quite wonderful and amazing.

Thanks anyway.

Superbowl Ripoffs

2008-01-26T18:27:00.000-07:00

Superbowl tickets: $2,800 -$5,000

Parking: $65 - $300

Super 8 - $500 a night

Rent your home - set your own price.

Ah, the trouble with NCLB

2008-01-13T18:31:00.000-07:00

In case you have been under a rock NCLB stands for "No Child Left Behind". I don't believe anyone knew that it would become a front for the testing companies to rake in billions of dollars on the backs of children. In years to come all the horrors that have come about as the result of this egregiously misnamed program will fill volumes.

Having just finished conferences this last week I reflect on NCLB. All but one of my sixth graders grade's improved. All have shown maturity. These kids are funny, kind, smart and, yes, very sweet. I call them my "little cupcakes and sweatshirts." They know I love them.

One little girl, truly a tiny thing, about the size of an eight year-old, has an amazing talent in drawing, but academically she has done something I didn't think possible; she has failed all but one subject. Her mother says that this has been ongoing and now she plans on sending her to a commercial tutoring center. The assessment costs $4,000. The child has no learning disabilities. She really doesn't care. The mother asked, "How do you make a child care?" My caring and encourgaement have been fruitless and I don't regard punishment as a viable method of motivation as so many parents and teachers do. The mother and I aren't really on the same page on that. *sigh*

I still feel badly for this child, but in my ongoing "Let It Go" mode I have learned that I am not a magician. I am a teacher. I am human. If I could make all kids love to learn then I could move on to cure all addicts. Yet, NCLB expects all teachers to be magicians.

WHAT IF....

2007-12-30T12:01:00.000-07:00

...you were allowed only one New Year's Resolution for the year 2008. What would it be?

What do you do about jerks?

2007-12-26T15:09:00.000-07:00

Rant #1:
I ran to the “U-Mail-It” (not its real name) store to mail back an unwanted (Danish modern???) candlestick and something else that I accidentally ordered. (Hint: be careful what you leave in your cart: Amazon will mail it to you and, doggone it, charge you for it, too!) There were two men of a certain age ahead of me in line, who appeared to be life partners; not in a flamboyant way, but in a sweet and comfortable way. After they left the clerk, who was a kid in his early 20's, I'd guess, made a nasty comment about them to his manager, then shuddered to show his revulsion. I was enraged, everything was rung up so I couldn't leave, but I did not know what to do other than be very cold towards him. (I know, then I looked like a jerk.)

What could I have done? I would like to complain to the “U-Mail-It” headquarters. I think that’s what I will do. Thanks. I feel better for venting.

Rant #2:

Went to the discount card store next to buy paper goods on sale. (See below about the red plates I lost and found. Don’t let me forget that the beautiful poinsettia plates are in the top shelf of my office closet!) The clerk made a comment about Christmas, and the man next to me in line, and a pathetic Mr. Know-It-All said, “Christmas is over.” Gee, really? Lately I have made an effort not to engage people of that ilk in conversation, and I should have done so this time but I was still brooding about the hate I saw at the “U-Mail-It” store so I said, “But the Christmas bills are coming.”

Mr. Know-It-All replied, “My daddy said to never buy anything you can’t pay for.”

Me, “Well, I’ll just let your daddy pay for all my stuff then.” Not the snappiest of come backs I know, but good grief, what a creep.

I am not a tattoo fan but I may need to have “Let It Go” tattooed on the back of my hand where it would be a constant reminder.

The Miracle of the Little Red Plates

2007-12-24T19:06:00.000-07:00

Here it was Christmas Eve afternoon and I was baking hundreds of cookies for our neighbors. Each year every neighbor gives a little gift of either food or some little hand made decoration. My contribution is chocolate chip cookies. Don’t be impressed. Big box store makes the best break-apart-ready bake chocolate chip cookies, so all I had to do was put them in the oven. It still takes a good chunk of time to actually get them baked, wrap them up and then deliver them.

I thought I might as well start getting them wrapped up when I realized I had taken the red plastic plates to school for our class Christmas (– oops! Holiday) party. I wasn’t willing to put the cookies on generic white paper plates. It looked like I was going to have to make a last minute run to the store. Crapolia!

The truth was nobody, I mean NOBODY, would care if the darn cookies were on white paper plates except me. I just couldn’t do it. Here I was with hundreds of cookies so I knew I would have to try to get holiday plates at the 11th hour. Crapolia!

I had nothing to lose so I made one last look in the pantry and, low and behold, there was a stack of the red plates. I have no memory of them, but there they were, and I was so grateful for this little miracle. I was absolutely tickled. How terrifically nifty to find those plates!

So, this next year I will make an effort to share those sweet little miracles with you, blogger-friends, because all those little miracles are, I believe, probably more important than one big whopping miracle.

Merry Christmas to All!

No Sexism intended, but NO MEN ALLOWED!

2007-12-23T11:40:00.000-07:00

Thank you to the genius across the pond who came up with this. Utter brilliance and scathing truth!

http://glumbert.com/media/mancold

Look what was found on the playground.

2007-12-19T20:13:00.000-07:00

One of my students found a bullet on the playground. It was not a used shell. I have never even touched a bullet before. I carried it to the office afraid that it would explode. I handed it gingerly to my principal. She looked at it, sighed, and said, "I'll add it the others."

Blonde joke .... since I am one I can tell this.

2007-12-16T17:21:00.000-07:00

Tale of the Blonde Horseback Rider

A young blonde woman decides to try horseback riding, even though she has had no lesson or prior experience. She bravely mounts the horse, unassisted, and the horse immediately springs into action. As it gallops along at a steady and rhythmic pace, the blonde begins to slip from the saddle.

In terror, she grabs for the horse's mane, but cannot get a firm grip. She tries to throw her arms around the horse's neck, but she slides down the side of the horse anyway. The horse gallops along, seeming imperious to its slipping rider.

Finally, losing her frail grip, the blond attempts to leap away from the horse and throw herself to safety. Unfortunately, her foot becomes entangled in the stirrup, and she is now at the mercy of the horse's pounding hooves as her head is struck against the ground over and over and over. As her head is battered against the ground and she is mere moments away from unconsciousness, to her great fortune, Frank, the Wal-Mart greeter, sees her and unplugs the horse.

I'm almost done!!

2007-12-09T18:54:00.000-07:00

I am so pleased with myself because I have most of my Christmas shopping done. Hooray! Hooray! The secret? Shop online when there is free shipping.

I know many people like going to the mall; the decorations, music, hustle and bustle gets them in the spirit, but that just makes me feel claustrophobic and anxious.

I have already made a couple of trips to the post office, bringing a book with me to pass the time, and keeping me from beating people to a bloody pulp who, first, don't have their stuff wrapped for mailing or, second, decide it's time to visit with the post office employees. Also, having a book with me keeps people from turning to me in line to complain about the terrible service. It's the post office folks, and it is what it is.

My daughter is right; it's fun to get things done ahead of time.

Worst Christmas Gift

2007-12-04T18:34:00.000-07:00

Do you remember the worst Christmas gift you ever got? What was it? Who gave it to you? How did you react? Did you keep it? Did you use it? Did the giver know that it was not appreciated? (Think the pink bunny suit from the movie, "The Christmas Story.")

In praise of paper towels

2007-12-01T14:33:00.001-07:00

I just love paper towels. Always have, always will.

I know my love affair with paper towels started when I was fairly young; probably around seven. Back in the 1950’s paper towels came in one color: white. They were rough and scratchy. I don’t know why my mother ever bought them because we weren’t allowed to use them.

Paper towels were kind of like the good china; they were to be saved for special occasions. What that mystery occasion was I don’t know, but the paper towels were mounted by the kitchen sink on the ugly steel paper towel holder. Maybe it was a special good luck kitchen talisman.

Come to think of it, I believe we only had one roll of paper towels that moved with us from house to house like the good couch. I think that same roll was with my family by the time I got married. I wonder whatever happened to it.

Now I buy colorful paper towels by the dozens from Sam’s Club and I use them freely. I used a ton of them on Thanksgiving after all the warnings about not contaminating anything. I should use that many paper towels anytime I cook (which is infrequently) but I don’t think about food contamination except on big holidays.

Gary likes to use the hand towels. I used to think that hand towels were used after you washed your hands but he uses them to mop up around the sink which I think is gross, however it gives me an excuse to rip off the choose-a-size paper towel and wipe my hands.

So here is to the inventor of the paper towel, and no I don’t feel I am wasting the environment because I recycle all my paper. If they can chuck newspapers full of stupid paper-wasting circulars I can use my paper towels.

I love my paper towels.

Tagged Again: coffee mug messages.

2007-11-23T18:27:00.000-07:00

List the characters or messages on seven coffee mugs that are in your cupboard (bonus points if you can do this without looking):

First, no one will drink my watery coffee, except me. I make a cup at a time. No one will drink Gary's coffee/paint remover, except him.

My favorite mug is one of three huge mugs that I got on clearance at Tuesday Morning. I believe it was actually a promotional give-away for the show "WILDFIRE!" on the Discovery Channel. I never heard of it, actually. Who sold Tuesday Morning these promotional cups that were supposed to be given away?

Gary’s favorite mug is one that I originally bought him at Mall of America and has a beagle on it. He broke the original. One of my students gave me one just like it so he has to make do with its twin. It gives a brief description of beagles as being merry little dogs with sad faces and bell-like barks.

Alexandra gave us a number of mugs: the Gary Larson “Angel of Migraine” with the grim reaper in boxing gloves leaving a house where the woman has obviously been clonked on the head. I think I bought the Bob Bullock Museum cups, but she was with me. Most recently she got us the Saint Louis cups.

I have a number of ugly Christmas cups, that were gifts from students. They are the kind of seasonal cups they sell at Walgreen’s or the Dollar stores and contain some really vile candy. There are usually five pieces of candy scotch-taped on cardboard over a styra-foam insert which is inside the cup. These almost always come from kids who can least afford a gift so I always feel sentimental about them. I have a number of Valentine cups received under similar circumstances. I must pass them on to the Good Will, there are simply way too many.

I tag whoever is willing to take on this coffee cup challenge. Just let me know.

I've been tagged. 10 things you don't know about me.

2007-11-06T19:47:00.000-07:00

(1.) I am, according to my husband, the world's worst liar.

(2.) I am enjoying maturing because I am becoming who I always wanted to be.

(3.) My greatest teachers have been my own children and grandchildren.

(4.) I believe most people are good (Anne Frank had it right.)

(5.) I have never shot a gun, and have never come close to a situation where I thought I might need one. Never!

(6.) I am highly allergic to alcohol.

(7.) My cooking abilities are pathetic. I have actually graduated up to pathetic.

(8.) I am a cat whisperer.

(9.) I was Miss Babe Ruth Baseball in ninth grade.

(10.) I have no idea why anyone would ever get a tattoo.

I tag Neva, Joy and Evonne.

I AM SO BAD, AND NOT SORRY!

2007-11-02T19:08:00.000-06:00

When my 6th graders asked what they could bring for the Halloween party I said, "Anything you want."
"You mean -" gasp, dare they say it?, " candy?"
"This is Halloween. It ought to be fun."

I guess this underground rebellion is spreading. I found out I was not the only who decided that healthy food was out for Halloween. I am so glad, and I, for one, am not sorry.

P.S. to "I told you so."

2007-11-01T05:48:00.000-06:00

We had more then enough candy, and less than 50 trick or treaters. Our days of 200 kids were when I taught at the neighborhood school, and, since everyone knew where I lived came, plus their siblings. Also, our neighborhood kids have grown up but the parents have stayed.

So, the days of 200 trick or treaters are gone. Now I have it in my blog and will more than likely remember for next year and can avoid another round of my egotistical one up-man-ship with my husband. As the kids would say, "My bad."

How do you NOT say "I told you so."

2007-10-31T05:30:00.000-06:00

I may have to eat my words on this one. Husband and I were at big box warehouse store when he said, "Shouldn't we get some Halloween candy?" Don't like to purchase it there, but did; a $10 bag of Skittles and Starburst with 200 tiny packages of candy inside.

We live in a neighborhood where LOTS of kids are dropped off. It is not unusual to have 200 kids, and we'll look like Halloween Scrooge if we give a kid one tiny envelope with two Starburst or six Skittles in it. Technically, this package of candy would do us, but that is so chintzy. Yes, I want to give out the good stuff (as in good stuff that I won't be tempted to eat.)

Do I shut up knowing that this bag of candy will not be sufficient, or do I go out and buy more and not tell My Cheapo? I'll let you know.

A Survey for my students. Thanks for helping.

2007-10-27T20:22:00.000-06:00

My latest goal is doing things ahead of time. My daughter, Alexandra, has always been the queen of doing things ahead of time. As a child she would come home, do her homework and then play. I once asked her, "How do you do that?" She looked at me quizzically with those aqua blue eyes and said, "If I get my work done then I don't have to worry about it, then I can go play and have fun!" I never taught her that. ( She is left-handed, however.)

I have battled procrastination for a most of my life. When I started goal-setting one of my major goals was to overcome my last-minute-Liz-itis. (Thank you for not rolling your eyes. I don't blame you. I'd roll my eyes, too.) Now I was ready for the next step.

This last year my big goal was to "LIG" or, "Let it go". That was a tough one. Probably the toughest of all, but learning to let go has been one of the most exhilarating things I have ever done. I am now able to let go of the majority of things that bug me. Another way of putting it is that I learn to forgive myself and others. Man! I would have done that decades ago had I known the amazing benefits of letting go.

I have a darling girl in my class this year who waves her hand wildly after an assignment is given and asks, "Can I hand this in early?" I told the class that this young woman was destined for success and happiness in her life. Guess what? It was contagious. Many of the other students started doing it too. We made it a class goal. "I get my work done ahead of time." I was on the bandwagon, too.

So, Alexandra, I am trainable. How many times have you been told that one of the greatest reasons to have children is that they teach you so much? I always wanted to get things done ahead of time, but it was something I just wasn't ready to do because I really didn't think I was even capable of it. Now I am! It is like time-travel. Seriously!

Dear Blogger Friends, here's my question: do you do things ahead of time? Have you always been that way? What are the benefits? Were you like me and just didn't think you were that type of person? Please let me know as I want to share your success stories with my students.

THANKS!

Parent-Teacher-Student Conferences - A Bad Start

2007-10-15T20:32:00.000-06:00

(1.) Parent requests change in conference from Monday (THE DAY HE REQUESTED) to Tuesday. I copied his original request along with the change.

Same parent sent in field trip permission slip with his signature and none of the emergency info filled in.

(2.) Parent calls in to say she can't make it to Friday's conference but she could come Wednesday, her day off, or any time next week. Parent NEVER returned the sheet that gave her time preferences. THERE ARE NO CONFERENCES NEXT WEEK. Will offer that parent two choices of phone conference time. Her child claims to live at grandma's, and shouldn't even be going to our school. Child is in serious academic trouble. Gee, I wonder why the child is so flaky?

(3.) First conference parents are 10 minutes late for a twenty minute conference. Mom stands outside the class talking on her cell phone for an additional 5 minutes. I start conference without her. Dad's cell phone goes off and he doesn't know what to do. He pulls it out (the phone, that is) and let it go to voice mail. He shrugged sheepishly. I sent them on the way when their time was up.

(4.) Next conference was on time. Student is getting good grades but is a drama queen. I inform mom that the drama needs to stop as it is apparently for show and attention only. The only victims are the classmates who have to watch her "shows". Child turns on the waterworks. Mom says, "She did this before only it was a lot worse." Oh, I'm glad it's better. And the Academy Award for the best performance by a sixth grader goes to ...

(5.) Next conference super supportive parents. Mom, according to fifth grade teacher used to cover son's rear-end for everything. Today mom turned to her son and said, "It's sink or swim time." Congrats, Mom, you have quit enabling your child.

(6.) Adorable girl who came from Mexico less than 3 years ago and is a top student. She wants to be a teacher. Hooray!

Tips to parents:

- Be on time, damn it!

- Turn off the damn cell phone!

- Sign stuff and turn it in in a timely manner.

- Don't act shocked when you see the grades. All your child's work is sent home weekly.

- Showing up for a conference shows your child you care and love them.

I teach in the public schools. We have no choice as to who is in our class.

News to People in Illinois

2007-10-03T20:31:00.000-06:00

I was telling my students about a very heated argument I had with my best friend, Joanne, when we were both in the 3rd grade. At the time we lived in Charleston, Illinois. Joanne was absolutely certain that Chicago was a state.

"Chicago isn't a state?" one student interrupted. Groans from classmates.

Wild hand waving from boy in the back of the class, "But I heard on the news they are gonna make it a state."

I can't make this stuff up, as Dave Berry used to say.

So for all you folks in Illinois I thought you might want to be aware of the confused geography here in Arizona. (I blame this on the 5th grade teachers because they teach the students the states - all 51 one of them. By the way, what's the capital of Chicago?)

Another senseless death

2007-10-02T20:23:00.001-06:00

Another suicidal appliance, or is this the plot of a Stephen King novel? The past six months we have had an unheard of number of appliance deaths; too numerous to name here. The terms mind-boggling and "oh, you-must-be-joking" would cover it.

Last night I decided to microwave a mini-bag (not the jumbo bag that I craved) of popcorn in our 6 month old stainless steel microwave. It started shooting flames towards my poor bag of popcorn. Damn! I removed my pathetic unpopped and singed bag and moved it to the ancient brown mammoth microwave which is hidden away in the corner of the rec room. (How old is it? The numbers are in Roman numerals.) It worked fine but is an embarrassment to have in the kitchen. It's about the size of a washer, too.

Gary and I trucked down to Big Box warehouse store and bought another stainless steel microwave. The kid at the checkout asked if we wanted the extended warranty. We declined. Extended warranties are a diabolical trick we now know.

We had bought a policy which covered all out major appliances years ago just in case we did have such catastrophes, but, we found out, when you call to make an appointment to have your appliance repaired you are not only not given an appointment that is always double-digit-days away, they also send you the repair person who learned his (it's always men) skills in the state prison and is not literate. (Why do they always ask to use the bathroom and have serious bowel problems? This I am NOT making up.) Extended warranties mean you are below the bottom of the list. The attitude of the company is that you get what you pay for, you cheap bastard.

So, we are philosophical and realize that the death of our appliances is simply our contribution to boosting the economy.

Last Year's Birthday Dinner

2007-09-29T15:34:00.000-06:00

A Blasphemous Confession

2007-09-23T10:15:00.000-06:00

I know I will take a lot of criticism for the following blog, but as they say, confession is good for the soul. There are a couple of confessions that follow. Maybe they will not be earth-shattering to you, but educators will understand my shame.

Those of you who know me know that my life has taken a new and better direction since I developed a goal-setting program for my students. I know on the surface "goal-setting" sounds like another one of those goofy, fads that educators so willingly start only to have it flop, as so many do. My program is not gimmicky. It simply shows students how to set and achieve thier goals for the pure joy of achieving goals. There are no "rewards" for reaching a goal, other that delicious feeling of reaching the goal. The program has been successful beyond my wildest dreams and gave me a whole "lease" on my teaching life. I was able to teach kids to become self-motivated, and that had always been my dream; for kids to learn to love to learn.

So, where are the confessions, you ask? Here is one of them; not all kids buy it. Not all kids want to learn, or care about learning, and Mother Teresa (who we now know had her own struggles) probably couldn't reach them, and believe me, I ain't no Mother Teresa.

The joke among teachers about the "No Child Left Behind" program has been, "What about the kids who don't want to come?" Here is one of the hardest thing for me to admit, I can't, despite all my best efforts, teach every child who comes to my class to love to learn and to be self-motivated. One of my goals has been that I must let them go. (LIG)

What? What kind of cruel harpy am I? After 30 years I realize that some kids, for whatever reason, don't care about learning. They firmly believe that they will be a rock star, movie star, television star, or lottery winner. They will be so rich that education won't be important. Yea, good luck. Studies have shown that nearly 20% of all kids believe that. However, and here I must make a hugely important distinction; not all kids care about grades, which is very, very different from not wanting to learn. Not caring about grades is not really so horribly bad. Grades are not indicative of what a child has learned.

Here is my other confession, I don't care about grades either. As I just said, grades are not indicative of what a child has learned. I made it my policy nearly 20 years ago that any child who wanted staright A's could get them. I made high grades something within every child's reach. (Yes, it can be done without compromise, believe me.) Why? Because for many parents grades are monumentally important. They don't think, "My child GOT a 'C'", they think "My child IS a 'C', " and nothing, nothing can convince them otherwise. I knew years ago that grades were a very poor indicator of the knowledge that a child acquired. Grades don't work.

So here is the last part of my confession; if I have made every effort to see that getting high grades is attainable for ALL students and if they do not choose to take advantage of it, then I have to allow them to do so. The big picture is what has the child learned, not what grades a child recieves, or how well he or she performs on a test.

I have been a real hypocrite about this. I have told students I wouldn't chase them around about getting their work done and turned in, and yet I have. "Where is your work?" I will ask. It becomes a game that I always lose, and as long as I play the game I will always lose. Kids have much more energy and stamina than I do. So, am I saying that I am allowing children to fail? NO! I am allowing kids gets to recieve the bad grades they have earned. They have made that choice. BIG, big difference.

So there it is folks; if students don't turn in their work they get (stupid, meaningless) bad grades, and I declare here that I must let that go.

Nora's Barn

2007-09-09T20:53:00.000-06:00

I wish I could show you a picture of our barn. * Yes, we have an actual barn. The owner's before us kept horses in it. The main resident, and Princess of the barn, is Nora the cat, whom I inherited from my daughter. Nora does not know she is a cat. I'm not sure just what she thinks she is but whatever it is, is pretty darn special.

Nora, although clawless, has decimated any mice that would dare to trod in her domain. She must have some kind of truce with the scorpions and black widow spiders though. I am not merciful if I find them. They are sent to their end swiftly. They may live in the barn, but I own the barn.

The truth of the matter is that I love the barn. It used to be horribly hot but now that it has been re-roofed and is in the shade nearly the entire day, it holds a temperature that is always pleasant. Gary hates the way it smells, but I love it. It smells like wood, dirt, cat, dust, bugs, paper, and lots of old junk. We used to have a fair collection of deceased vacuum cleaners out there, too. I have no idea why Gary put them in the barn because I told him directly that the barn would not heal them and make them new and young and frisky.

The barn is never moldy either because we are so dry here. It doesn't have the creepy dampness of a basement or attic. It has an aliveness. It is patiently waiting to be cleaned. Right now I could probably toss most everything, except Nora, the Barn Princess and it could be a work area, except that I like that it is my place.

I like taking Nora's breakfast and dinner to her and we talk about her day. She has quite a vocabulary and is never bored, or boring. I brush her, which she likes sometimes, and other times not at all. That is her prerogative. Lately she goes nose-to-nose with the beagles as they watch her through the baby gate that is at the door. They are not allowed in the barn. They accept the rule philosophically, as dogs do. Nora, does not mock them which makes the no-dog rule at least tolerable.

As Robert Frost said, I will be telling this with a sigh, but I know I will clean the junk out of the barn and perhaps have to share the barn with Gary, and that would only be fair. I will still love my barn, only a little differently.

Barns are ancient structures and maybe their specialness is that they are homes for animals, in this case, Nora's barn. Nora has made the barn unique in her own way.

*I can't because I am still using Gary's computer and can't download my pictures to it. My computer should be up and running within a week in it's shiny new office.

Did you miss me???? Here's the latest. A BIG THANK YOU, TOO.

2007-08-31T19:10:00.000-06:00

(1.) Check out my new grand puppy, Becky the Basset, at my son-in-law's blog, Sheep Days. The gorgeous little boy is my grandson, Thomas.

Now Brett will understand the old expression, "Love me, love my dog."

(2.) I decided to redecorate my office because the new floor is so gorgeous. This has become a much bigger project than anticipated, but I am motivated. I was living in terror that the HGTV people would show up at our house and do a remodel as per requested by our daughter in one of those "My parents are stuck in the last century" episodes.

(3.) Please forgive my griping about our weather. We do not live in San Diego where it is law that the weather and climate is always perfect. However, we have now had 31 days of temperatures above 110. This is especially bad when one is teaching and the kids can't go out for recess. Of course the kids can walk back and forth from school. Someone wrote into the paper saying that the rest of the country has snow days and that we should have heat days.

Ah, this too shall pass. ( I just made that up.)

(4.) A HUGE THANK YOU : I want to publicly thank the people who read my blog, comment on it and those very precious friends who email me regularly from around the world. I have always believed in the goodness, kindness, warmth and amazing humor of people and this is continuously shown by small group of blogger friends. I treasure your words.

Life is good.

I still love it here.

2007-08-24T17:08:00.000-06:00

I was born in Madison, Wisconsin. I lived in:
- Baraboo, Wisonsin
- Eleva, Wisonsin
- Elmhurst, Illinois
- Ellendale, North Dakota
- Charleston, Illinois
- DeKalb, Illinois
- Morgantown, West Virgina
- New Britain, Connecticut
- Madison, Wisconsin
- Grand Forks, North Dakota
- Mesa. Arizona. I love it here.

I love Arizona. It's beauty is haunting. The weather is magnificnet from November through Aprtil, and then it gets hot. The last two weeks have been the hottest on record. Our students can't go out for recess. They can, howver , walk to and from school. Someone suggested that in the rest of the country they have snow days, so perhaps we should have heat days. Tomorrow it will much. much cooler; 98 degrees.

We must go through the worst to appreciate the best.

Remember Murphy Brown?

2007-08-22T20:52:00.000-06:00

I am on my husband's computer so I can't seem to add any images.

Remember on the show Murphy Brown, the contrator who was a permanent resident because he was always working on a project? Well, that's happened at our house, but here is the good news; our contrator/handyman is delightful and the remodeling although going very s-l-o-w-l-y is worth the wait. The floor is much better than I hoped for. The new doors look gorgeous. A shiny light and fan will brighten my office, and have decided that paint and wallpaper will look much better than the crappy stuff (which I loved at one time, but everyone else hated) has to go. This is all a bit tricky with teaching full time, and my day starts early. I'm at school before 7:00 am. Oh, well, I can sleep .... later.

It's been said that remodeling is as stressful as a divorce, but aside from the appliance death watch, death of an beloved pet ( oh, yes, another a/c unit has been leaking which caused ceiling damage and we could have bought a really high-end washer for it's repair) but who's counting? I think we have done very well and only mild irritation over furniture placement and removal (yea, - way too much firniture before) and major LIGging (see blog below) on my part, have keep kept us sane. After having watched many episodes of HGTV we should realize that everything costs more than estimated. Oh, well, who's counting. (I said that didn't I?)

When I get my own computer back I'll post pictures.

Every School Year is Different, so I LIG.

2007-08-17T21:47:00.000-06:00

Every school year is unique because there are millions - literally - of combinations of factors that make so many things different. For example, brutal heat; 113 degrees the first day. One less sixth grade teacher, and larger classes. The entire sixth grade has a personality that is wildly different from last year's group. (Human, for one thing.) These kids are much less worldly. thank goodness.

Add to that being in the midst of major remodeling here at home which means that when I come home there isn't any real relaxation. Why is it that I don't feel the bone draining exhaustion that would normally swallow me up?

I'm glad you asked.

It is because I have finally learned to LIG. That is my new acronym for "Let It Go."

Of all the goals I have worked towards in the past four years LIGging has been one of the most satisfying because it has done the most to get stress under control.

As the Serenity prayer suggest you must let go of things you can't control. I had no idea how little I controlled. I had no idea that giving up that control would have the unknown bonus of giving me energy that was utterly wasted on things out of my control.

Ah, it's good to know I am still trainable.

All Dogs Go To Heaven

2007-08-10T21:57:00.000-06:00

Bruno, our eighteen and half year old beagle, died this morning. Only last month he was out dancing in the backyard under the moon. No one told him he was old and deaf and blind and dancing was only for young dogs. It has been a year full of dog deaths. Bruno's sister Mollie died last October. They were both ancient dogs. We loved them, but it was time.

The toughest death was Josephine (JoJo) beagle, who had to be put to sleep on Christmas day. It was just like having someone shove their fist down your throat and then rip your heart out. Josephine was much younger. She had shown no signs of illness. She was sweet beyond sweet and full of love. Jo the peacemaker. My son held her in his arms, like a baby, as she died.

My dear, dear, friend Pat, died On Christmas day, too. The day after that Gail's mom died. The unexpected deaths are something you never get used to. Christmas will never be the same.

Our beagle girls; Freddie, JoJo's sister, and the little girl dogs, Roxanne and Mabel are all that is left of the pack. They are bewildered today. They don't know death, but they do know loss.

Our friend Austin said an amazing thing about dogs, "They stay puppies their whole lives, then they die and break your hearts." How true.

But I have always said our pets are only loaned to us.

I could get everything done if I didn't have to sleep.

2007-08-09T21:44:00.000-06:00

We are remodeling, which means moving decades worth of stuff, but so much stuff was thrown out, too. Good riddance. Appliances have made a suicide pact. We bought a lovely new refrigerator. Hooray.

This week has been filled with before school meetings. School starts with the kids on Monday. Tonight we had "Meet and Greet" where the kids and parents come to meet the teacher. All but two of my students showed up. That's a record.

Lots of former students stopped by to say "Hello", which is something that can't be put in a paycheck. Everyone of them said they were still goal-setting. I couldn't be prouder of them.

I am woefully sleep-deprived, but as happy as I can remember. I busy. I'm tired. But I'm not stressed. I wish I could bank this lovely feeling. Oh, I know. I can blog about it.

Ach! Why are people still tanning?

2007-07-31T18:39:00.001-06:00

In early 1970’s my husband, his parents and I had gone to dinner at a fashionable restaurant in Scottsdale. We had gone for a stroll after dinner to see some of the galleries. Walking in front of us was an unusual couple. The man, middle aged and ordinary looking. The woman? The most exotic person I had ever seen and dressed like someone straight out of Frederick's of Hollywood. She was very slender and wore what were called “toreador” pants with a matching bolero style jacket, but in a ghastly leopard print. She teetered along on the tallest black patent leather heels I had ever seen. Her hair was bleached and frazzled. Then she turned around and I almost gasped because she was so tanned and wrinkled she made the Marlboro man look pale. It was frightening!

In retrospect, the woman was probably a prostitute. (No, I don’t know that, and yes, that is judgment call.) But the lesson I learned was not to over tan (her profession didn’t occur to me until later), and that was back in the days when we didn’t know how harmful tanning was. I am sad to say that many women my age and younger, here in Arizona, haven’t learned that lesson. Wrinkles have never been fashionable.

Arizona and Florida have the highest rates of skin cancer in the United States. I slathered my kids in sunscreen. I still apply sunscreen everyday. People are now carrying umbrellas as sun protectors. Nearly everyone here knows someone who has had some form of skin cancer, and we have known young people who have died from it. It is an excruciating way to die.

That is why on our recent trip to the Midwest I was astounded to see so many people deeply tanned. We drove though many, many small towns on the back roads of Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois and Missouri and in every little town there were tanning salons, and evidently doing a booming, if not deadly, business.

Admittedly, a tan on a young healty looking person looks good as compared to pasty white skin, but the real thing is a ticking time-bomb.

.

Crazy July weather in Arizona.

2007-07-30T18:15:00.000-06:00

Temperature on July 3rd, 2007 is 109 IN THE SHADE!!

The weather service said it was about 115.

We consider that HOT.

Do you see this?

72 degrees on a rainy day.

We love this RARE cool down in July.

This only happens after a pouring rainstorm, which leaves everything cool and that spicy, intoxicating smell of the desert.

Comment on another Blog - On Lipsticks

2007-07-27T22:05:00.000-06:00

My friend Neva of Let Me Be Blunt …, wrote recently about a friend’s compliment on how terrific she looked (which she does)and attributed it to her lipstick. Neva claims never to leave home without putting on lipstick. I belong to that club, too. It got me to thinking about that luscious stuff. Thanks, Neva! My daughter also blogged about the curative power of lipsticks and how purchasing one is a real spirit lifter. That is so true.

An Ode to Lipstick.

I read once that lipstick gives the face balance. That is true, but I think there is much more to lipstick than that. Lipstick is usually the first make up a girl is allowed to wear. A girl knows she looks pretty when she puts on lipstick. It is a powerful feeling. My six grade girls wear pink lip gloss. I don’t remember the color of my own first lipstick but I remember my sister’s. It was Revlon’s “Powder Pink” and it looked exactly like congealed Pepto-Bismol. It was gross. It looked gross on every girl who wore it. Fads cannot be explained by logic. Powder Pink will probably rise again and be as wildly popular as black nail polish.

In the 1960’s lipstick became so pale that it looked like one wasn’t wearing it at all. Lots of dark eye make up, and false eye lashes. Ah, the raccoon look. I knew one girl who actually wore foundation on her lips instead of lipstick. Not a good look.

My lips aren’t bad. Not big. Not too small. I am not unhappy with my lips. I never would consider the lip injections. Melanie Griffith’s lips now look like those old pictures of Lucille Ball (of “I Love Lucy”) who would paint outside the natural lines of her lips. That held a horrible fascination for me. Who would purposely go after that look? Does Antonio Banderas really want to kiss those lips? Yuck.

My sister has had lipstick issues from the beginning as her lips are small and thin. Actually, her lips are pretty but she has never felt comfortable with lipstick. She claims she eats it off as soon as she puts it on. A few years ago I bought her some lipstick that claimed to be “Industrial Strength”. Okay, they didn’t say that but that was the meaning. I picked out a color that I thought would be flattering, Bonnie insisted it was exactly the same color as angle worms. She was right. She gave the tube back to me but I never actually wore it because of the worm connotation.

Lipstick, unfortunately, likes my teeth. I always brush my teeth after lunch at school, powder my nose and put on fresh lipstick. There is always a student who kindly points out that I have lipstick on my teeth. By the end of the year neither the students nor I am embarrassed by this ritual. At least they tell me, unlike adults.

I have a special love for red lipstick; red that is on the verge of orange. Oh, that is my favorite. One can’t stock up on lipstick as it does go bad. That sounds like a country song, doesn’t it, “When Good Lipstick Goes Bad Then My Dog Runs Away”. I think that could be a hit.

Also, you have to cull lipsticks. Free lipsticks are never a good idea. They are rarely a good color. Also, lipsticks sometimes end up being a different color in the light of day than they are at the point of purchase. Case in point, any purple lipstick is potentially disastrous. Woman buy them because they see doctored pictures of models who look gorgeous and sexy in purple lipstick, but no real human has actually pulled that look off. It has never happened and never will, yet the stores are full of them. The landfill is their resting place. RIP.

Men, you do not understand woman’s relationship with lipstick and don’t even presume that you do. It is primal, and you should respect that.

My husband's luggage

2007-07-11T10:10:00.001-06:00

This is EXACTLY the same kind and amount of luggage my husband uses on any trip we take. Of course my husband is much more handsome and very well dressed. However, he has a pathological disorder that makes him absolutely luggage phobic. He would take less if he possible could.

I, however, believe that a large piece of luggage and a carry on are fine. My husband is almost ill over the excess amount of luggage I take.

He has never been stranded in Europe without luggage as I have.

A Gratfying Day - the Blog was Published in the Newspaper

2007-07-08T11:22:00.000-06:00

This past Friday two very good things happened. It was my daughter's 30th birthday. Although we could not be with our daughter, her GGF (good, good friend) and GGF's MH (mesmerizing husband) were. Do you wonder why I am the queen of acronyms?

The second thing was that I had an editorial printed in our local paper. The editorial was the blog the I wrote titled "An Elegant Solution for Education." (See below) The paper changed the headline to, "Education Would Improve With A Healthy Dose of Respect." They didn't change anything else, as sometimes happens. The best part was the response. I have received; over 20 emails, and a couple of calls. I am not counting the emails from friends to whom I emailed the article and they were forced to reply kindly. They did. The emails from strangers have been incredibly kind and supportive. Twenty emails might not sound like much but I was thrilled. (Last year I corresponded with a writer who appeared on a segment of Oprah and she said she had received six emails as a result of her appearance. Six for an appearance on Oprah!!)

In making the plunge to being a thorn-in-the-side of the district I realized that when people say "Somebody ought to ..." (and I am guilty of that) I was going to be that some body. Last fall I wrote an editorial that saved, at least temporarily, a good reading program. I am a tenured teacher so they can't fire me. Yes, yes, I realize tenure protects many incompetent teachers. The real question is, will this editorial do any good?

I believe it will. I am a great fan of Malcolm Galdwell's wonderful book The Tipping Point. It made me realize the power of grass roots efforts, and that the high mucky-mucks really need to pay attention to those of us in the trenches. Remember that in Ancient Sparta there were 25,00o citizens and 250,000 slaves. The citizens lived in constant fear of a slave rebellion. I know the school districts would not have to worry so much about rebellions (re: strikes) if teachers felt valued and respected. What a concept: treating employees with dignity. (This should be a given in ALL of life!)

I was so grateful for all the supportive emails I received. Only one was from a grumpy person, who although he could find nothing wrong with what I had to say he did blame all of the ills of education on the National Education Association, which he mistakenly called a union. I thanked him for his comments.

Thank you to my son-in-law, Brett. You got me started on blogging.

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl!

2007-07-05T19:36:00.000-06:00

Before, May 1977

She didn't like the first bath from Grandma, but now she loves soaking in the tub.

I always knew she would be beautiful. Just look below.

Age 1, 1978

Alexandra, age 2, 1979

Lily and Tom at Mom's 29th Birthday, 2006

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl.

You have brought us such joy.

We are so proud of all that you have accomplished, and the lives you have touched.

Thirty years ago we could not have imagined any of this, but we always knew you were destined to make the world a better place, and you have.

We love you.

119 degrees is just too hot, even if it's dry heat.

2007-07-03T09:57:00.000-06:00

It could get up to 119 F. degrees tomorrow. (48.3 C) Even for those of us who have spent decades in Arizona, that is considered hot. I know, I know, you have heard us say, “But it’s a dr-r-r-r-ry heat.” It is, and the only way I can describe it is like the blast from an oven. It is almost impossible to compare it with heat that includes humidity.

Remember when you have all the humidity you have the literal weight of the moisture in the air. That’s part of what makes a person so lethargic when it’s 98 degrees and the humidity is 98%.

Our problem comes when we get our awful heat and the humidity of the monsoon season. Monsoon is a misnomer, but the Arizona natives have called the rainy summer season “monsoon” and it has stuck.

Our rainy season does not include gentle cooling rain. Instead great mountainous cumulous clouds billow up over the mountains and then the storms come crashing in with noise and flash and shuddering thunder. They are like heat blizzards with punishing winds and more often than not the spectacular lightning that sets off desert wild fires. If we get rain in the spring we get a lot of desert vegetation which dries out in the heat and then is fuel for summer fires.

But after the rain there is the gorgeous, spicy, intoxicating smell of the desert, and nothing else in the world smells better.

The Tortoise, the Hare, and the Treadmill

2007-06-23T21:26:00.000-06:00

It’s been three weeks since I seriously started my “treadmilling”. Things are going slowly, but, as my friend pointed out at a recent breakfast, “You might lose more weight if you changed your eating habits.” This, after she watched in horror as I put sugar and cream in my coffee.

“You’re right,” I sniffed. “I know I would lose weight more quickly if I dieted but I also know it wouldn’t be permanent.” She scoffed. “If I diet and lose weight my body will figure it out, and get even.” She scoffed again. “If I exercise and don’t change the way I eat I’ll lose weight.” She was into major scoffing by now. “I already have.” The scoffing abruptly stopped. She was quiet.

“How long do you think this will take?” she wanted to know.

“Maybe, hmmm, a year.”

“A year?”

“Probably.”

“You’re kidding.”

No, I wasn’t. I heard a story of a man who owned a health club and didn’t understand why people had such a hard time losing weight. He went on his first diet and lost twenty-five pounds. It was easy. No big deal. (You know where this story is going.) He put the weight back on plus five pounds and started having trouble with his weight. After I heard that story I decided I would never diet again.

It’s said that you must walk about 40 miles to lose a pound. As of today I’ve walked just under 90 miles, and I things have definitely toned up and I know I’ve lost a little weight. The main thing is I have stuck with this and honestly enjoyed it. That was my original goal:to stick with it.

Believe me, if I can do this anyone can. How are you doing?

An Elegant Solution for Education

2007-06-21T11:00:00.000-06:00

Everybody seems to know what is wrong with education, and every one of these experts can tell you, with absolute assurance that the problem with education is one of the following (in no particular order): rotten teachers, rotten kids, rotten parents, an over-sexed society, politics, entertainment, the media, and let’s not forget, junk food. The public is told that if only these things were changed children would start to learn. If only it were that simple.

“Ockham’s Razor”, named after a fourteenth century English friar, is credited with the stating that the simplest explanation is often the best. Here is one of the unquestioned beliefs, as applied to education, that if test scores go up then education is good. Sadly, a great many people, especially those in the political arena who have the power to control education, have sold American’s on this supposed “truth”. As an educator of thirty years, I can only say that this simple truth is horribly and egregiously wrong. Here is the truth folks, and dear Ockham, no doubt, would agree, when tests scores go up it simply means that students did well on tests. It does not mean that any learning took place, or (heaven forbid) that a student learned to love to learn, or became motivated to learn. There are lots of ways to do well on a test that have nothing to do with learning. I know I am not the only one to see this.

We can assume that children who come from stable homes, have two involved parents, plan on going to college, and have good teachers will probably do better in schools than students who have none of those things. However, that is not always the case as many, so-called advantaged kids fail. The explanations for the students who do well in spite of disadvantages are fascinating and wildly conflicting. No one really knows. They do make for good movies, however. (I remind my students that movies are to make money first and foremost, not to necessarily to enlighten.)

I recently talked with a woman who was retired from thirty years of teaching. She said something that took my breath away because it was so obvious, but I had never questioned it. She said she never for one day felt that the school district valued her as a teacher, and that had she treated her students with the contempt and indifference that she experienced she would have been fired. My mouth dropped. She was right. As one example, teachers are no longer allowed to have students exchange papers to grade them in class (I never did this because kids were too busy seeing what they got on their own papers) because it is traumatic when a student doesn’t do well on a test. Yet, there are schools that post in the teacher’s lounge, or other public places, how teacher’s classes perform on standardized tests. The teachers are to be shamed? Shame may work but it is a despicable way to supposedly motivate people.

I already know who will say, “Well, they should be shamed if their class didn’t do well.” I would say to them, is the doctor shamed if the patient doesn’t heal? No! People would say there are just too many factors that the doctor cannot control. And yet people honestly think that teachers do have that control? Exponentially a teacher is often working with thirty or more students at a time, and each student comes with his or her own backpack full of issues. I can tell you from personal experience having a student whose behavior is sociopathic makes it pretty darn hard to teach. Don’t you think that might affect test scores?

Recently Google was listed as one of the best places to work in the country. They are inundated everyday with thousands of applicants. Why? Google employees talk of the wonderful perks: gourmet food, health clubs, great pay, being able to bring pets to work, flexible hours and top notch health care. Those certainly would be incentives for most people. Yet so many Google employees said that being valued as employees was one of the greatest perks. Mmmmmm.

I would be willing to guess that students who feel valued and respected by their teachers enjoy school, and more than likely learn more from that type of teacher. Does that translate to better test scores? I don’t know, and that isn’t the point of education. The point of education is to learn how to learn. Ideally, it is to learn to love to learn and to take that learning and share it for the greater good of humankind.

Smart school districts, will value and respect their teachers. Even Ockham, I am sure would agree, that treating every school employee with respect would be obvious and (here’s the real surprise) it wouldn’t cost a thing.

Wimbleton Widow

2007-06-17T18:53:00.000-06:00

“Ung – uuuumph- uuuuump!” Thwack!

“Argggggggrph!” Thunk!

“Ung – umph- omp!” Thwaa-ack!

“Argggggggrph -phoof!” Thunk!

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

“Ung – uuuumph- ump!” Thwack!

“Ohhhhhhhh!”

“Argggggggrph!” Thunk!

The sounds of Wimbleton will soon reverberate throughout our house.

My name is Liz and I’m a Wimbleton Widow.

Strawberry Maniac

2007-06-15T19:12:00.001-06:00

I may OD on strawberries. They are so inexpensive, $1.50 a quart, that I have been eating strawberries in everything, and they are huge strawberries, too. Until the tell-tale red splotches appear on my skin I’m going for it.

I talked to my sister, who lives in Minnesota and she said she tries not to look at the prices when she buys them. There are some things in life you just have to splurge on and strawberries are one of them. I can’t believe I didn’t like them as a child.

By the way, the cantaloupes are wonderful, too. Oh! And the peaches are just perfect. I’m in heaven. The wonderful fruit makes the crushing Arizona summer heat worth it. Remember though; it’s a dry heat.

TREADMILL UPDATE

2007-06-12T16:03:00.000-06:00

Okay, I don’t look anything like any of these women. I am the same height as Eva L., who, by the way, is 5’1” tall (or short) but CLAIMS to be 5’2”. I never looked like her, and never will. Sally Field is 5’1” in height and a little older than I am, and you have probably seen her hawking medicine for osteoporosis. I know she suffered from a multitude of eating disorders when she was younger, and chances are they have contributed to her present condition. However, now the woman looks great and I would be happy if my body looked like hers.

Valerie Bertonelli is in my height category, but I never got anywhere near as chubby as she, thank goodness. Cellulite does not discriminate and even former wives of former rock stars succumb. I guess being paid a gazillion dollars to go on TV to sell whatever diet program is motivation enough for her. I just think it makes losing weight all too complicated. (Is Kirsty Allie finished losing weight? Is she happy at that size? If she is, good for her, but who, for goodness sake, picks out her clothes? Not very figure flattering.)

However, I refuse to diet. I have found that if someone says I can’t have a particular goodie then it haunts my dreams. Also, I quit weighing myself over twenty years ago. I did not want to be tied to a number on a scale. I turn around on the scale at the doctor’s office. They are used to it by now.

I don’t diet because yes, one does lose weight when one diets except that your body gets used to less food and if you try to eat “normally” those pesky pounds, which have missed you so much, come right back usually on the butt. The diet industry wants to continue sucking money out of people when 95% of them put the weight back on, and then some. (Check the statistics yourself.) Even Valerie’s diet company admits to that when pressed.

So, how is walking on the treadmill going? Fantastically. Since I am not a television watcher I decided I would order the shows from NetFlix and watch them as I walked. I have a headphone set and I bought an extension cord from Radio Shack so that no one else is bothered by the many episodes of “Desperate Housewives” I view. I walk when I feel like it. This has been so easy. Yes, I look forward to the walking. I have a little calendar and, as of today, I am walking an average of 3.46 miles per day.

So, I know this way will take longer, but I’m okay with that. Honestly, at my age I want to be healthy and I’m letting my body decide what is a healthy size for me.

Here is my plan. I want to keep this up, and I believe I can. Let me know how you are doing. Pass it on.

A Story with a Sad, But Not Surprising Ending

2007-06-07T19:29:00.000-06:00

This coming fall I will start my thirtieth year of teaching. Yes, yes, it’s corny but I really do love it. However, I spent way too many years feeling bad about students with I whom I couldn’t connect. Time, being the great clonk-on-the-head factor says that the more you try to connect with a student the more you drive them away. That was the case with Winston (not his real name). I found out that no one connected with him.

If you have ever read any of Barbara Robinson’s hilarious books about the Herdman’s, who were “the worst kids in the history of the world,” then you would know about Winston. He was, without a doubt, the worst kid I ever had; truly a child without a conscience. I have since learned that he is more than likely, a sociopath. I will, gentle readers, spare you the details of all the unbelievably awful things he did, but I was ready to quit teaching because of him. It is ironic that one of the other students in that same class went on to be her class valedictorian and had many offers of full college scholarships. She, on the other hand, probably will never know that she kept me from quitting.

That spring that Winston was in my 6th grade class I called his father to report one of the latest of his horrendous behaviors (and no, the administrator at that school prided herself on NEVER suspending a child no matter how bad the behavior or district guidelines). The father immediately turned vicious. I was taken back as I had never had that happen before. (My earlier complaining, as an example, of his taking Winston to R rated movies which he graphically shared with classmates was greeted with a don’t-be-so-uptight reaction from the dad.) This time the dad personally attacked me, then threatened me. I reminded him that it was against the law to threaten a teacher. He screamed at me, “I’m not threatening you but if you ever ….” and so on and so on. Then I did something that I’m not proud of. I said, “Well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” I definitely went to his level. Interestingly, Winston’s dad owned a collection agency. He probably thought he was talking to me normally. Geesh!

Two weeks ago I saw that Winston’s dad died. I have removed all identifying information. He was in his early 40’s. This is his obituary:

*****, passed away after a brave battle with colon cancer. ***** was born in ***** and he was raised in Arizona. He had a strong will and he lived his life on his own terms. He was the epitome of an entrepreneur-always dreaming up and developing new business opportunities and ventures. He was his father's son. Although he worked hard, ***** knew how to have fun too. He loved playing poker-Texas Hold 'Em in particular. Many a weekend he would invite friends over for a night of card-playing fun. Ask any of his friends and family and they would tell you how much he touched their lives and what a generous man he was. ***** is preceded in death by his father and sister, He is survived by his son, ********, mother and sisters. (We cannot go without mentioning his special Aunt, who gave of her time, her love and her support to *****and the rest of his family during this difficult journey. We will miss you **** boy.

I take no delight in his passing. His end was miserable. As I stated in an earlier blog about planning your own funeral I would also advise people to write their own obituaries, because I would not consider this one as praiseworthy.

I wonder what will happen to Winston now. I still have no idea what I could have done to help him, and now, even though his dad was a jerk, Winston has no father.

Breaking the Myth of Sarcasm; It's Not a Joke Anymore!

2007-06-04T15:31:00.000-06:00

I realized that I needed to expand on my profile comment about giving up sarcasm, as I am sure you have noticed some sarcastic comments in my blogs. Let me explain.

Several years ago I developed a goal-setting program for my students. It was successful beyond anything I could have hoped for. It was an absolute magical year and I felt that I could teach forever. I have been teaching this particular program for three years and I am, in fact, even more enthused. The program has grown and I have even taught it to adults through some very prestigious organizations. It has truly changed many lives for the better.

When I first started the program there were glitches, of course. The problem was sarcasm. Sixth grader’s sarcasm is usually very clumsy. It is pretty much not even up to the level of slap-stick comedy. It is pathetic. One girl, Leeta, was a master of rapier-like sarcasm, never to me, however. Students are rarely rude to me (exception being Samuel, off meds, in the Diva/Victim/Bully blog below.) Leeta could rip the other kids to pieces and they never knew what hit them. Leeta was the black-belt of 6th grade sarcasm. I would find a glob of gelatinous goo on the floor, which had been a student at one time, and knew that Leeta struck again. That kind of sarcasm took practice.

I invited Leeta’s mother in for a conference. I asked her if Leeta and her brother were sarcastic with one another. “Ayeeee!” was her answer.

“I take that to mean ‘yes’?” Leeta and her brother were vicious to one another and the mother was desperate for help.

I came up with a plan and I have eliminated most sarcasm from my life. How? Why are people sarcastic? They say, and this is the biggest bunch of horse sh**t to ever come down the pike; “I was just joking.” No they weren’t. No, they aren’t. Don’t ever, ever, ever believe that again. It is a lie. I challenge you to challenge anyone who ever says that to you again.

Sarcasm has three components.
(1.) - to make the person being sarcastic feel superior.
(2.) – to make the person being sarcastic feel right.
(3.) – to enable the person being sarcastic to inflict pain.

Whenever anyone uses the “I was only joking” excuse we put it to the test. Are they trying to feel superior? Are they bullying to be right? Do they wish to hurt the other person? A yes to any one of these is not acceptable and the person is being sarcastic. Period.

Here’s the big question though, is it ever acceptable to be sarcastic? Yes! Absolutely! Egotistical overblown celebrities deserve sarcasm. Britney Spears was a great source of sarcasm for my class this year. She was a poster person for my class. They now know what sycophant’s are. They know now that money does not buy happiness or good sense or good taste (good haircut? Mother of the year? etc.) Britney Spears is a public figure, and yes, yes, yes, she is to be pitied, too. I don’t feel bad about being sarcastic toward her.

Here in Arizona we are always being sarcastic about the heat. Yes, 115 degrees is hot. How hot was it? You know the bit. When I lived in North Dakota we would be sarcastic about the cold. You can be sarcastic about political figures, too. That is part of being a celebrity.

But, as a teacher, sarcasm is never to be used against a student. I was guilty of that, and I am not proud. I can only pray for forgiveness for that. I can now expect others not to be sarcastic with me if they are trying to act superior, right or hurtful. That, by any other name is bullying, and that should never be accepted.

A Happy Boy

2007-06-03T19:21:00.000-06:00

This past Thursday Gary and I went the Phoenix Art Museum to see the exhibit called “Curves of Steele” which was an exhibit of cars which were famous for being the best examples of streamlined automobiles from the 1930’s to 1990’s. The pictures above are not from the exhibit but rather there were two cars that were models similar to these.

As Gary looked at the Ferrari, restored to perfection, he whispered, “It’s like a piece of sculpture.” He drank it in.

Gary has an encyclopedic knowledge of these, and most of the cars in the exhibit. One elderly lady eavesdropped as he told me about the electric blue McClaren. It was wonderful to hear these stories from him. He was just beside himself, and awestruck to see these cars. I bought him the companion book as an early Father’s Day Present, and that made him a very happy boy.

It was a delightful time, and reminds me of why I have loved this man for 40 years.

BIG SECRET - Not for Fitness Purists

2007-06-01T18:56:00.000-06:00

Do not forward this blog to any of your friends who are really into fitness and exercise because it will cause them to faint, or just explode with frustration at those of us who are not exercising correctly (which is a felony in some states, I understand.)

A number of years I ago I got up before sunrise and went walking. The weight almost magically came off. It was fun and I listened to a great many books on cd (shameless plug for Audible.com.) The problem was – big surprise - once school started up again I didn’t keep it up.

Next, when summer started I got a bottom of the line treadmill, and watched movies as I walked away. Those pesky pounds dropped off, school started and I didn’t keep up the walking. I was too tired. I didn’t want more work!

I teach with a number of women who are hardcore exercisers. They go to the gym faithfully. They are toned. Some, shame, shame, are even tan (which is NOT a cool thing to do here in our skin cancer state.) I want to hit them, but I haven’t the strength. I needed a different strategy. I needed something that worked.

Brilliant idea. How would you exercise if you could exercise the way you wanted to? What if you never heard, or never believed Jane Fonda’s “No pain. No gain.” Easy answer; it would be fun and no work. That’s how little kids exercise. That’s how I stayed skinny as a little kid.

Here is my plan, and you can do this too, as long as you promise to keep it secret. If word gets out it would ruin the “Health Club” economy. Oh, darn.

I renewed my Netflix membership and plan to watch the TV shows that I never have watched because I am too wiggly to sit and watch TV. (No, I can’t watch and do something that is even slightly left brianed, either. I can’t multi-task.) I am currently treading, literally, through “Desperate Housewives”, but here is my secret; I slowly walk a mile. Go do other stuff. Come back. Slowly walk another mile. Go do other stuff. Slowly walk another mile. Ect., ect.

Guess what? I am not sore. I am not exhausted. Yes, I know the purists will say that won’t do any good. I believe that’s a HUGE part of the exercise problem. I am sure there are a lot of people who have bought into the purists theories and believe that since they can’t exercise properly they won’t bother. What if that isn’t true? What’s the worst that can happen? I will be getting exercise and having fun and therefore I’ll keep it up. Is that so bad? Don’t know. I’ll keep you posted.

I did it!

2007-05-29T19:53:00.000-06:00

I got my classroom cleaned up as of yesterday. I worked like the dickens this weekend. This is the earliest I have had my classroom cleaned up in my entire teaching career. I am so relieved.

This has got to be the dullest blog I have written and I cannot imagine that, other than my principal ,who was quite pleased, there is not one soul on the planet who would find this newsworthy or interesting, howver I have the momentum and am now ready to tackle some other big projects.

So there.

Look out sock drawer, here I come.

Be Careful What You Email; It Says Much More Than You Think

2007-05-29T07:12:00.000-06:00

A dear friend of mine decided to get divorced after decades of an unhappy marriage. I never got to know her spouse so to comment on him would be unfair. When my friend decided to divorce her husband started writing her and emailing her very l-o-n-g and verbose letters. She shared them with close friends simply because she didn't know what to make of them. He didn't want to get divorced and I saw his letters as being very possessive. My friend didn't see this because she was so used to it.

Today another email arrived. They are difficult to read, not because of any real pain on his part but because they are so very tedious and all about him. It's as if, like a student, he mistakenly believes that the more he writes the clearer he makes himself. Wrong! The more words he writes the more he incriminates himself. I performed a little word analysis breakdown for her. It is as follows:

Dearest Friend,

I think what [his name] didn't know he said is more telling than his words. Look at the breakdown very, very carefully. I believe we know who he believes this is all about by a very clear margin. Again, you are doing the right thing.

I = 22
me = 13
myself = 1
man = 1
my = 12
.........................................
total = 49

...........................................

you = 12
your = 2
woman = 3
[friend'name] 1
............................................
total = 18

God = 3

us = 1

........................................................................................................

Love, Your Friend

DIVA / VICTIM / BULLY

2007-05-25T20:05:00.000-06:00

One would think after having taught for twenty-nine years you’d have seen everything. Wrong. Yesterday, our last day of classes, Samuel was suspended within ten minutes of the beginning of the day.

Samuel was acting inappropriately. Nothing new with that. His behavior was always much worse when he was off his meds. This last week of school was not the week to be unmedicated. Even with his meds Samuel was one of the most hyper-active students I’ve ever had, but he could be funny and charming, and good-grief the kid was bright. Samuel could be delightful. Being hyper-active myself I have a pretty high tolerance level for high-energy children, but Samuel went far over the line yesterday.

Samuel will probably make a great actor, and yesterday’s re-run of his (future) Academy Award Winning Diva/Victim/Bully performance will go down in history. Each performance is a little different, with his lightning change from Diva to Victim to Bully. Samuel is dazzled by himself. It never loses its fascination.

The students had been advised earlier in the year that the worst and stupidest thing they can say to an adult is to use that sneering tone of voice and yell, “What? What? I didn’t do nothing!” The intention is to intimidate the adult. Yea. This, accompanied with by the gangsta-type arm gestures. Pul-eeze.

That was the act that Samuel decided to pull. I instructed him to go to another classroom. The rule is once you’re calmed down you can come back. All’s forgiven. However, Samuel’s performance continued with the kicking of a chair, the throwing of his back-pack, but the topper was cursing at me. The class sucked in their breath, and I said, “Nope, you’re going to the -” He cut me off, still swearing, and complaining that everyone was against him. Standard operating procedure for a full fledged Diva/Victim/Bully. The class wasn’t even upset because they had seen this act many, many times before, but today, the cherry on top was the cursing at me. He stormed off to the office where the drama stepped up a notch. The principal was not amused. Same verse, same as the first.

Samuel was suspended from school the last day of sixth grade, and he will always believe it’s my fault. That is the world of the Diva/Victim/Bully. Their handbook states very, very clearly that you never, ever take responsibility. Taking responsibility is never allowed by the Diva/Victim/Bully. To say, “I’m sorry”, or “I was wrong”, or “Please forgive me”, would cause them to melt away like the Wicked Witch in “The Wizard of Oz.”

Does any of this seem eerily familiar? Hint: Rosie O’Donnell as the Diva/Victim/Bully on this past week’s program, “The View”. Rosie is funny and charming, and good-grief, she is bright. She is a woman of amazing talent, marvelous wit, and famous generosity, but she said people would see her as a “big, fat lesbian.” That is not true. That’s not how I see her, and I’m sure most reasonable people would agree with me. But Rosie is pulling a Samuel and being a Diva/Victim/Bully. I half-expected Rosie to say, “You’ll be sorry if I die, and it’ll all be your fault!”

Earlier in the year when Samuel, unmedicated again, was having a tantrum, one my students said, “This is getting old.” Rosie, this is getting old.

But what do you do with a Diva/Victim/Bully? Please understand the Diva/Victim/Bully really, truly, in his or her heart of hearts absolutely, positively does not see anything wrong with his or her behavior. Nothing! It is everybody else. It is always somebody else. That is the D/V/B mantra. They believe that with every ounce of their being, and in the meantime, they make life unbearable for everyone who has to live or work or teach them. You will often hear them say, “Payback time,” only it’s not a joke.

What do you do? You don’t play with them anymore. Is that it? Yep. Don’t play. Don’t get mad. Don’t shout. Forgive them for they prefer to know not what they do. Remember the old saying about “negative attention is better than no attention”? No attention is death to a Diva/Victim/Bully. To be the star of your own drama is to be real and alive. Everyone MUST pay attention to you.

We all have Diva/Victim/Bullies in our lives and they can suck the life right out of you. Don’t feel sorry for them, because they win. Don’t respond to their drama, because they win. When you let them walk all over you, they win. The only way to win is to not play (kind of like the lottery.)

Don’t enable them. Diva/Victim/Bullies really need enablers, or sycophants, unless that is something that you choose to do. The Diva/Victim/Bully won’t love you for it. You must only love them. Remember they are the star.

To all the Diva/Victim/Bullies, this has gotten old. We don’t want to play anymore.

The Graduation Audience from Hell

2007-05-22T19:32:00.000-06:00

Last night was our sixth grade graduation program. I’m not sure why this is done, but as with any custom, once started, it will continue unless something egregious enough happens to put it to a stop. I believe I witnessed it last night.

First, many of the girls dressed in outfits that were best described by one administrator as “hoochie mama” attire. She was being kind. The wolf whistles from the adult men in the audience were creepy.

Second, the barking, shouting, and screaming by the parents was beyond awful. The principal had said, in her introductory remarks, this was a formal occasion and to hold the applause until each class was finished. This seemed to be taken as a challenge to some. The audience’s crude behavior was better suited to WWF Wrestling. One teacher was repeatedly ridiculed for asking the audience to hold their applause. She finally said, “I give up.” That was greeted with riotous glee.

It was boorishness on a scale the likes of which I have never seen. It was so bad, in fact, that this morning the sixth graders were talking about the fact that they were embarrassed. Maybe the bad audience behavior has reached the “Tipping Point” and that, at least, is a good sign.

May Meltdown

2007-05-19T20:46:00.000-06:00

Due to construction work at my school I can’t do my usual, casual, end-of-school clean up. I must have everything done by this coming Friday. I planned on a marathon work week on Mother’s Day weekend, but I came down with the stomach flu. So this weekend I knew I would have to make up for lost time.

I got up early and was getting ready when I discovered that my bottle of silicone-based hair smoother-down glop had leaked all over the cabinet, and everything in it. I had a melt-down. A volcanic melt-down. A break-your-heart melt-down. It was too much. I had one those horrible crying jags where you can’t stop sobbing and you have to gasp for breath. Haven’t had one of those in a long, long time. It was awful. The mess was awful. The gloppy stuff was like cleaning up greasy glue. I cried and gasped, and Gary kept trying to help, poor guy.

Years ago I read that crying releases a hormone that relieves stress. Once I finished my marathon cry and got the cabinet cleaned up and cleaned out, I felt a lot better. The cabinet had needed a roto-rootering anyway and looked pretty spiffy. By the time I got to school I was in a ruthless cleaning and tossing out mode. I actually got a lot done.

My daughter, Alexandra, has always been a merciless tosser. She is not especially sentimental about things and used to help me in my cleaning by being my cheerleader. Maybe that was part of my crying jag. But she would have been proud of me today, and I was proud of me, and, by gosh, I will be ready for vacation on the day school ends. That will be a first in nearly thirty years of teaching.

The Wild 6th Grade Broncos Broke Loose

2007-05-17T20:17:00.000-06:00

The wild broncos broke loose. Wild-eyed. Fearful. Panicked. And that was me!

Ach! These poor sixth graders are leaving the comfort zone of elementary school. They are leaving recess. They will no longer be the big cheese. The will be pond-scum seventh-graders. Doormats to eighth and ninth graders. No wonder they are terrified.

Everything I planned for next week is pretty much out the door because they are not coming back into the corral. Where are the dreaded hygiene films that could make anybody comatose? This is the time of year when teachers get on their knees and thank God for videos. I am seriously considering an all video week. Educationally viable, of course, but I am desperate. They actually asked for “Old Yeller”. Hey, it was in our reading book.

If not videos, then worksheets. No. No. That would be too much. After all, they would have to be graded.

The toughest job in the world; actually attempting to teach the last week of school.

Seven Days To Go and a Small Miracle

2007-05-15T20:34:00.000-06:00

Being a teacher means you have to be an optimist. There really isn’t any alternative. You have to believe in the kids, especially when they don’t believe in themselves. You must dig and root around for something realistically positive to say to even the most hopeless child. There are miracles just waiting to be discovered, and just when you begin to question yourself those miracles happen. The break-through comes, and it always takes your breath away. Those are the things that make teaching magical. I had one of those today. Lord, I dance in gratitude.

Lester has been an angry kid all year. Angry. Cynical. Mean. Sneaky. Yes, he has had a tough year. Yes, his parents are divorcing. Yes, he did admit, “I have an anger management problem.” But every once in a while he would let down his guard and I would see the vulnerable child. He was in there but really hidden behind the barbed wire. Today he broke out.

As an end of book project for Johnny Tremain I have my students write letters (to be mailed or not) rather than the dreaded book report. They have to write a summary, tell their favorite and least favorite parts and explain their answers. The last part is where they explain whether they think the book might affect someone’s life, or might affect their own lives. Lester’s words were not out of the ordinary, he hated the part where Rab died he wrote, but as I read through his rough draft Lester’s whole demeanor had changed.

His face was thoughtful. “You liked this book?” I asked.

He paused a long time, and looked off at something unseen, “I didn’t like it when Rab had to die.”

“No,” I agreed. He understood. Rab did have to die. I looked at Lester. “You get it, you know. You understand what the book is about.”

He nodded, still in that far away place. “Yea,” he inspected his hands, “I know.” The power of a book to change a life; wondrous.

Maybe Lester can give up his anger and cynicism for good. For today, he understood, and that was a miracle.

Eight Days Left, But Who's Counting?

2007-05-14T19:48:00.000-06:00

We are getting down to the wire and I feel very much like the woman in the picture to the left. My sixth graders are in a tizzy. They want to be out for the summer, but “It gets boring pretty quick.” They are nervous about junior high, especially the showers. Ach! Remember that? How awful! Nobody does actually die from embarrassment, you just think you will.

We just finished reading my beloved Johnny Tremain and I showed the ghastly old Disney film. (My principal said, “Quit torturing those kids!) They were properly outraged at how the movie ravaged the book. Years ago one boy said in righteous indignation, “They made Johnny a wimp!” There are always a couple of students who’ll claim they like the movie better just to be pills. I have learned not to respond to this. They are probably planning a career in politics. I advise the kids to use Rab as a role model, but not to get themselves killed. This book always seems to help a few kids make the leap to 7th grade with some dignity.

Sixth graders are some-what human, at least for most of the year, but they really need love and patience now. Someone needs to do that and that seems to be my job in life. These last few days I will try to be a horse whisperer to these wild broncos.

Please send me your prayers and any extra patience you can spare.

BARF!!!

2007-05-13T18:57:00.000-06:00

I hate being sick.( I think that is probably why I’m not a big fan of TV. I only watch it when I’m sick. Most television makes you feel sick anyway.) Teachers are exposed to more contagious diseases than anyone, and I have probably built up a pretty good immunity, but this stomach flu just lays you out flat! Ugh and double ugh.

I had my weekend all planned. It was going to be a marathon clean out and toss out at school. My plan was not to come back and do the final cleaning up after school was officially out, which is what I normally do. Now I found out that since there is major repair work being done at school I have to be done by the 25th, and now I lost two work days to being ill. Not to mention it being Mother’s Day weekend.

The good thing, and there is always a good thing hidden in the bad things, is that now I am ready to seriously toss out rather than pensively sort and file. If the room burned down everything in it is replaceable.

Now I can throw out, not throw up, without any guilt.

Tattoo and Barbeque for Rudy

2007-05-11T19:27:00.000-06:00

Rudy is my sixth grade student who, I believe, is autistic. No, he hasn’t been tested. Mom had never agreed to have him diagnosed. “He is just shy,” she claimed. . It is heart-wrenching to have to tell a parent that his or her child’s behavior is not normal.

Last fall Rudy and I clashed. The other students were used to Rudy’s outbursts, but I wasn’t. When we switched from one subject to another his loud groans of protest and statements of, “This sucks!” or, “I hate this!” or “This is stupid!” were grating, to say the least. Most confounding was the fact that Rudy would deny saying these things. Also, Rudy would never look at me. He was like a mini –Rainman. It finally dawned on me that Rudy couldn’t distinguish between what he thought and what he said out loud. Mom finally agreed that yes, he did that at home. I felt that that was progress. It was her first acknowledgement of his problems. This was just prior to our winter (Christmas) break.

When school resumed in January there was a dramatic change in Rudy’s behavior. Each day there were fewer outbursts. I took him aside and told him how proud I was of him. He seemed very pleased and finally one day after one of these compliments he spontaneously hugged me. It was all I could do to keep from crying.

I wish I could take credit for Rudy’s new awareness but it was actually something his parents did. They set up a tape recorder at home and Rudy finally heard himself saying all the things that he thought were thoughts. I was astounded and thrilled. Who would have thought something that simple would work?

I decided not to push for Rudy’s testing because, I was told, he would surely have been placed in a self-contained classroom in junior high. In my heart I just didn’t feel that this was best for him. He was making progress and mainstreaming is almost always best for kids.

In the classroom Rudy struggled with figurative language. Metaphors especially were just mind-boggling to him. Metaphors are tricky for nearly everyone, but for someone like Rudy, whose world was literal, they were always out of his, literal and figurative, grasp. Metaphors are like learning to look at those hidden pictures; you stare and stare and suddenly you see the little teapot or pair of scissors. Rudy tried but figurative language always seemed to elude him, until this past Wednesday.

Twenty percent of the students in my class are on meds for ADHD (Hyper Activity/ Attention-Deficit Disorder.) Having been diagnosed with this myself, although I choose not to do meds, I have a pretty high tolerance for this high-energy type of student. I have advised my students, having taught junior high myself, that when they get to junior high they will have to make more of an effort to keep a lid on the talking. “They will tattoo and barbecue you for that in junior high,” I warned.

“Is that a metaphor?” asked Rudy.

“Yes! Yes! Yes, it is, Rudy! You got it!” The class burst into applause.

What a huge step. Rudy will make it.

Blogs that are dogs (with apologies to dogs)

2007-05-09T20:56:00.000-06:00

I am looking for a pattern as to which blogs get comments, and which get "O" comments.

Please share your thoughts. Which one of your blogs got the most comments?
Do you take it personally when no one comments? (I do. I pout. I hold my breath. I quit bathing. How's that for revenge?)

If that doesn't get any comments then I plan on doing something drastic, which I will write about in an upcoming witty blog.

No, these are not my beagles. My beagles have no training whatsoever and could not possibly sit for a group portrait.

So our new lives begin.

2007-05-03T21:09:00.000-06:00

Alexandra and her family are settling into their home in the prairie. It has been raining there, something Tom and Lily rarely saw here in the desert. Their toys are still on the shelves in the rec room. They are, I know, quoting Carol King (again) just "time away".

So our new lives begin.

I automatically make sure the scissors are out of reach. I double-check that the iron is unplugged, even though it is the automatic shut off kind. Tom never really got into things here, but his sister, whose hobby, according to her grandpa in "naughty", had radar for what she wasn't supposed to be into. We watched her like a hawk. We were complacent when
Alexandra was little because, if we told her not to do something, she wouldn't. Yes, she was the oldest. Lily's temperament is much like mine. I know that I was into everything, but that is in the handbook for second-children-after-really-well-behaved-first-children. It's a cosmic law.

So our new lives begin,

but I will miss our dinners. I will especially miss the walks around the neighborhood to visit the horses, but I promise, Tom and Lily, I will tell them hello and wave good-bye just as you did.

So our new lives begin.

Thoughts on Moving

2007-04-22T18:05:00.001-06:00

I had just about completed a post when the power went out for just a moment; just long enough for me to lose what I had written. It was a quite lovely, elegant and poignant blog about how much I would miss my daughter, son-in-law and adorable grandkids when they move to the midwest. Duh! Of course, we will miss them.

I have been given very specific directions not to induce any guilt. That is a strong family trait, perhaps even genetic. I had developed my own 12 Step Guilt Recovery program so I was not planning to relapse on guilt, and no I am not making fun of any 12 step programs, either. I had a friend once say that guilt is the gift that keeps on giving. True, true, true.

I hate moving. I still have nightmares about moving even if I'm not the one moving. Moving is not easier than it used to be, just different. I know this is a wonderful opportunity for my daughter and her family. It is a lovely part of the country where people are wonderfully friendly and caring. I lived 80 miles away from where Alexandra and her family will be when I was a little girl. Intellectually I understand all this, but my heart still aches at the thought of them being, as Carol King sang, "So Far Way."

College Columbine?

2007-04-16T16:25:00.000-06:00

The news stations are all on nothing - but - the - shooting - at - Virginia Tech mode, but how could they not? One colleague said that we will hunker down and beef up campus security even though it will not stop it from happening again. Of course, there will be the copy cats, who want to be notorious even if they have to die to do it. At this point (3:29 MST) they haven't identified the gunman.

What is the lesson here? Could it be guns are too readily available? Don't you just love how the NRA will justify their weapons? Doesn't it seem odd that these are always referred to as "school shootings" rather than school killings? The lesson? The lesson? Will we learn anything from this? Will it change anything? It could.

These terrible things happen and this will be dissected ad nausea and fingers will be pointed (probably) at rotten teachers and terrible parents. Guess what? Most people who had rotten teachers and terrible parents get over it. Really. Will we find out that the gunman was flunking out like the shooter at University of Arizona?

And please, don't interview his neighbors who tell us how quiet he was. Is that some TV reporter rule? Go find someone who saw him across the street once and interview him? Whoever it was had a mental illness of the worst order, and he will forever be remembered for his egregious act. The number of people devastated grows exponentially.

My former colleague, whose son graduated from VT, will have to scrape the beloved Virginia Tech bumper sticker from her car. Her pride is now a heartache.

Dear Lord, please heal our hearts and help us to remember to forgive. Let this be the time we learn.

Yes, I read The Secret ...

2007-04-07T10:22:00.000-06:00

Yes, I have read The Secret. It is, as written in a comment in Beso Mami’s blog, a theological “abomination”. There is so much about it that is egregiously bad as to make it a Saturday Night Live skit. Yet, tucked away are actual truths, and that is the conundrum.

I have always been an avid reader of self-help books, and over the years have taken a lot of ribbing about it. My husband calls them Think Tall, Be Tall books. I learned to cull from them what I felt was important, and ignore goofier things.

Several years ago I read a book by a woman named Lynn Grabhorn called Excuse Me, Your Life is Waiting. She wrote about people giving off positive and negative and energy. This is not new and most folks have been around people who give off positive energy and we call that quality charisma. Bill Clinton has it. Jackie Onassis had it. People who give off negative energy have toxic personalities. Scott Peck wrote in People of Lie that those are the people that give you the creeps, and he wisely suggested you stay from them. We have all experienced that. In Ms. Grabhorn’s book she extrapolated that positive and negative experience into drawing that energy to oneself, or The Secret’s secret The Law of Attraction, and this is where it got creepy. Ms.Grabhorn wrote of people drawing horrible accidents and diseases to themselves because of their negative thoughts, just as was stated in The Secret. I totally rejected that idea because I know that is not how life works. It just doesn’t. People get sick or have accidents for a variety of often unknown reasons but they don’t draw them to themselves magnetically. That is not how God’s grace works. God’s grace is freely given to anyone not just to “good” positive people.

Lynn Grabhorn died of cancer not too long after the publication of her book. Did she magnetically draw cancer to her? Of course, not. For reasons we cannot understand, she contracted cancer. Period.

Unfortunately, many of the people who read The Secret are not particularly sophisticated. It is horrifying that there are still people who naively believe that all things published (or in the newspaper, or on Fox News) are true. “But they couldn’t put it in a book if it wasn’t true, could they?” I expect that from my 6th graders. Sadly, many adults have not matured, and do not question or do any research on what they read or hear. Just think of the forwarded urban-legend emails you receive from supposedly educated people.

In The Secret author Rhonda Byrnes promotes thinking positive thoughts over negative ones. That is just common sense, and that is something that is good and worthwhile, but when wrapped in the hokey disguise of being a secret, it has an appeal. It is rather hard to believe that anyone would actually believe that thinking about a new BMW would make them a magnet for a new BMW, but then the Nigerian email scams have suckered in millions of dollars, too. The marketing of The Secret was pure genius. It is right up there with Pet Rocks.

The Secret advocates being generous. Absolutely worthwhile. The Secret advocates being kind to oneself. Also Biblical, in the Golden Rule. There are many, many truisms that are good and worthwhile, but it is like a gourmet meal which is sprinkled with s**t : not something one would find appetizing. It seems a lot of folks don’t recognize the s**t.

The danger, of course comes, when people start to believe that their positive thoughts make wishes come true, but I think time, that great leveler, will smooth things out. People who sit on their keesters and wish for things will find out that life doesn’t work that way. I do believe that thinking positively clears your vision so that one is open to what is good in life. I believe that if one looks for the good in other’s it is there, and as I teacher I work to nuture that quality. Even Anne Frank believed that most people are good, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that neither she, nor any other true victim in life, drew to her the horrible things that happened to her.

Plan Your Own Funeral

2007-04-02T20:34:00.000-06:00

This past weekend we attended a not very good funeral. Can a funeral be good? Yes. Can a funeral be bad? Most definately. In fact, most I have attended have been anywhere from dreary to awful. Not just because the funeral was about somebody dying but mainly because they weren't very well planned! This past weekend's funeral included a warbleling teenager, and an octogenarian who blabbed on for twenty minutes - off the top of her dandelion head. Oh, dear! Years ago I attended the funeral of young man who was a member of my church who died of a chronic illness. He knew he was going to die (unlike most folks who really never see it coming) so he planned everything. It was a glorious funeral; really a life celebration.

This past weekend I was reminded that I ought to put some thought into what I'd like because I want it to be a reflection of me. It will definately have some Bossa Nova Music. Food should include copious amounts of chocolate mint goodies. Several of my favorite jokes and some of my favotite stories that my family will no longer let me tell. I should video tape me singing something, too. Ha! Mainly, I want it to be a really great party with great food and, of course, a lot of laughs.

A Moment in Time

2007-04-01T19:58:00.000-06:00

There are several things of interest in this little snapshot. First, and dearest, is that I am clutching my grandfather's finger as he holds me by the shoulders. Note the poodle appliqué on my shirt. Was I into fashion then? My grandmother is leaning into Alfred. She, no doubt, had her sturdy black purse on the crook of her arm. I never studied this picture before. Now a whole drama unfolds.

Next, I know my grandmother was 70 years old when this picture was taken. Twelve years older than I am now. She was always old though. My mother said that her mother "embraced old age."

This is one of dozens of pictures of my blue-eyed brother squinting into the sun. Poor kid! He was a beautiful little boy.

What in the world has my sister so enchanted? My guess would be someone walking a dog, or perhaps my dad was doing something silly to catch Bonnie's attention. I have seen this same look on Bonnie's granddaughter Kendall's face, complete with glasses sliding down her nose.

My handsome and dapper grandfather bears an uncanny resemblance to the late actor, Donald Crisp, who played the mayor in Pollyanna.