Slice of Life, Chapter Nine

(This is part of the Slice of Life Project)

I’m going to call this The Story of the Magical Manicotti Mood Swing.

Let me set the stage: Three year old boy. Daylight Savings Time has ripped an hour from the clock. Lunch was little more than a nibble of humus and crackers and strawberries. Long hours of playing with dad. Forgotten snacktime. Van ride over the river is just enough time to doze off but not enough time to nap. Suddenly, starvation and tiredness sinks in.

It’s tantrum time.

Get situated at the dining room table and slide a plate of spinach manicotti in front of him. Calms down enough to be interested. Wipes tears from eyes. Stops screaming. Begins eating like there is no tomorrow. Then, raises the index finger of left hand high up in the air, forcing his body upward towards the ceiling.

Me: What are you doing?

Him: My finger is a potato (giggles)

Me: A potato?

Him: (ignores the question) My name is …. Apple.

Me (now confused): Apple?

Him (laughing, with manicotti sauce on his lips): My name is … Banana.

Me: Oh.

Laughing, laughing, laughing. That manicotti was working its magic last night.

Peace (in the ups and downs of the day),
Kevin

Your Days as a Couplet

You know, you are an amazing group of writers. Here I am, throwing out the concept of boiling your days down into a couplet and you don’t blink an eye. You get down to it and start writing and start sharing and you blow me away every week. I am thankful for everyone who participated again this week. I am thankful to know all of you through your writing.

Thank you.

Here are your couplets:

I got a chuckle out of Saras, as I know she has a birthday coming up (or has it come and gone?).

where did the years go from 6th grade ’til now?
the last birthday in the twenties, coming up – ka-pow!

Mary brought us into her classroom. Mary is part of a new technology team that I have put together.

digital stories all about fractions
Posters made to show all the actions!

Anne H. has long been looking at how technology is both used and mis-used and she is a colleague at the Western Massachusetts Writing Project.

A computerized tutorial program that responds to emotions–
What brave new world brings such notions?

Kathryn answered my call on Twitter (yeah!)

Bad time management and should have gone home
Instead distracted by twitter not work and writing this poem

Nothing like a load of grading to weigh you down, right, Cynthia? She writes:

Doth not it seem yon English teacher is just a bit uptight?
Perhaps grading those darn research papers hath kept her up all night.

Jane is part of the Slice of Life blog project that I discovered and jumped into, and I am happy that that she posted for this project. But I am sad she is in a bit of pain.

The train of my life has gone off the track
Derailed by the pain in my sore lower back.

Karen (who may have also ventured here from the Twitter world?)first informs us, “This is my week, so far, in a nutshell (or nuthouse, as the case may be)”:

Grading! Grading! Report cards are due!
Teacher is wishing she had the flu.

Elona crams a lot into her two lines. First, she writes: My week? What can I say except,

Anxious, confused, frustrated my students and I are
Research projects, tag clouds, wiki, Voki avatar

The weather impinged upon Barbara, and she isn’t so happy about it.

Old man winter, plaguing us with rain, wind, and snow
Closed school? ) tacking snow days to the end, ( OH NO!

Ben B. once again weaves wit with words.

Much food and few people was I then with
At a free seminar on one Adam Smith.

Karen prefaces her poem with the following thought: This couplet is about something that’s been on my mind for a few days.

If March comes in with wind that will blow
Is it a lion or lamb, and how will it go?

And Aram made a discovery of the unpleasant kind.

Her poem surprised me, so deep, so gifted.
One google later, I found it was lifted.

Aram adds: That’s how it goes, lately, Kevin.

Sue is waiting for the tube to catch her class.

This week was exciting, and the students can’t wait to see
if our local news station will be covering their podcasting on TV!

And, she adds: “Yes, This can become addicting…”

Larry, Larry, Larry. You did fine. Here is his note: “As you read this couplet, be aware that in college my poetry instructor wrote this in my final class evaluation: `Larry did write one good poem this semester.’”

At school and at the gym, at basketball I’m trying harder,
but no matter what I do, I stay at mediocre.

Jo got inspired by one of her students. She explains, “this is a bit ironic when you know that the student in question spends most of his class time, once he finally arrives, trying to covertly text message. With the number of zeros he’s accumulated, he’s doing pretty well to have as high a failing grade as he does. ;)

Her couplet:

“You’re the hardest teacher here!” said a student.
I smiled and said, “I take that as a compliment.

And Bonnie was the reluctant poet this week. Reluctant, but brave.

Snowstorms last weekend, floods today.
And Mother Nature just keeps on laughing away.

Next week, the host of the roving Day in a Sentence will be Anne M. from Australia, so be on the look-out for that announcement and join Anne on another writing adventure.

Peace (in verse),
Kevin

Slice of Life, Chapter Eight

(This is part of the Slice of Life Project)

Last night, I was accused of being a “Northampton Nationalist.” I accept that label, with pride. Northampton is the city where I live and it is a wonderful little place, with a vibrant downtown full of the arts and restaurants and music clubs. The outskirts where I own a home is a peaceful place. It is a neighborhood of giving and supportive people. I love that we are raising our family here.

The comment about my nationalism came following a Letter to the Editor that I wrote to the local newspaper on the topic of our city’s Poet Laureate program. It was published yesterday morning. This is the second time the city has chosen someone who does not live within our city for the post and it completely befuddles me. I know the reason — they want a higher profile — but I can’t fathom why we can’t have someone who lives here representing poetry for our residents. (The two Poet Laureates who are the outsiders are this year’s Leslee Newman — a talented writer and educator — and Martin Espada — a fantastic political poet). We even have a very active Poet Society that puts on shows and readings and events.

The playful accusation came during a large block party called The Spring Blues, in which more than 150 neighbors, complete with hordes of kids, gathered together to eat 35 pizzas and try to win an assortment of prizes (ie, junk) in a fun-filled raffle that also raises money for our neighborhood civic association. We did not want the cast-iron potbelly stove nor the doggy shade tent, but we came home with a box of baseball cards, 15 small rubber duckies, a large fire truck (the catch of the night for the three year old), a white stuffed bear and a potato gun (there’s gonna be trouble, I can tell).

Eight people at the party pulled me aside to agree with my letter to the newspaper, so I guess I was on to something.

Here is my letter:

I am writing to both praise and question the city’s Poet Laureate program. I heap plenty of kudos on the initiative because, as a writer and as a teacher of young writers, I think the role of a City Poet is such a wonderful concept. I love that we as a city can celebrate writing and poems in this way and that the Poet Laureate is designated to act as a sort of ambassador into the world of rhythm and rhyme and verse. What I don’t understand is how we can be choosing Poet Laureates who don’t actually live in Northampton and then call them the Northampton Poet Laureate. This is not to be considered criticism about Leslee Newman, who is a fantastic writer and who works diligently with others to promote the power of writing. (I also understand she used to live here but no longer does). I know there may be a desire for a higher-profile person on the part of the selection committee. But I believe that we have such talent in Northampton itself and such a diverse group of writers that we should be able to choose someone who is now living in the city and who is part of our city life to be the designee. It strikes me as wrong that we need to seek talent from outside our community. I would rather have our poets come from within the city itself.

Peace (in pizza and life slices),
Kevin

Slice of Life, Chapter Seven

(This is part of the Slice of Life Project)

Not more than four years ago, I could barely turn on a computer and use anything other than MS Word. Today, my home seems littered with technological debris. It’s amazing how quickly the Revolution takes place.

This was brought to my mind last night as our older sons pitted my wife and I against each other in some tangled version of “Are you smarter than your spouse.” The boys were asking us trivia questions and my wife and I were expected to shout out the answer — the quickest answer got the point. My wife is much smarter than I am and quick on the draw, too, so I was down in the points column for some time (ie, forgot that the capital of Illinois is Springfield and I shouted out Thomas Edison for discovery of electricity — doh — too much pressure, I tell ya).

At one point, we were all unclear about a question and answer, and my wife told the boys to get a dictionary and look it up. Now, we have dictionaries all over the place (when both of your parents are educators, that will happen). But they looked at us as if we were some oddities from another planet.

“Let’s just Google it,” the older one said.

“No, get a dictionary,” my wife insisted.

They went into the other room and ostensibly came back with the dictionary, but later, I found my computer screen on Google, with information to the answer we were seeking. I guess they could not resist. The technology is there, so why not use it? (I imagine they thought if it this way and, well, why not?)

That’s when I glanced around my house and thought about all of the technology that we have and the world they are growing up in. What are we exposing them to?

So here is my Household Technology Inventory:

  • One Dell desktop computer (about 5 years old now but still running smooth)
  • One Dell laptop (mostly used for movie editing and for workshop presentations)
  • One XO laptop (my little green machine)
  • One Canon digital videocam
  • One Pure Digital flash video camera (the pocket-sized one)
  • Two digital cameras
  • Four MP3 Players (don’t ask)
  • One digital voice recorder
  • An assortment of flash drives
  • Plus, the usual array of microphones and speakers, etc

What about you?

Peace (in too much cool stuff),
Kevin

PS — I made a strong comeback in the trivia game, correctly getting the capital of Puerto Rico and the years that Franklin Pierce was president (pure guess). We celebrated by having the boys put away laundry. Mom and Dad were both winners!

Slice of Life, Chapter Six

(This is part of the Slice of Life Project)

It’s pothole season and I feel it in my teeth. Here is my dilemma: there is long way to get to school that is boring and non-descipt and there is a short way to school that is quite a lovely road. I, of course, want to go the short way, and not just for the time saved. It wanders through the open fields and pastures of some local farms, moving through quiet residential neighborhoods. At one point, the road opens up onto the top of the hill with a fantastic view of a local mountain and a sloping farm with horses. I get some comfort saying a silent hello to Mr. Ed out in the fields.

So, you say, what’s the problem? Take the short scenic route.

The problem is that this time of year, after all of the snow and ice and rainfall, the entire road comes alive with car-killing potholes. Due to ts relative quiet, the road is barely on the local public works map. Driving to school becomes a death sport, swerving to avoid the holes that were not there the say before and cringing at every dip in the road. If if were safe to close your eyes, you would do it.

And so, my teeth hurt from every bump and bang in the road that jars the car into submission. It’s already at the point where I am considering the long way to school, if only to avoid a costly trip to the local garage for an alignment. Remember? It was me wishing for Spring? Yeah. I just don’t remember putting in an order for the potholes that come along with. I guess I had a classic case of New England Amnesia.

Peace (in dips and holes),
Kevin

My Darfur-ian Day: blogs, podcasting, social action

My students were so excited to be part of the Many Voices for Darfur project. They were writing and then blogging and then podcasting and then reading the blog posts of other students and we even attempted a Skype call with the students from The Blurb (didn’t quite work out but excitement generated was worth the attempt)

At last count, I saw more than 450 comments on the Many Voices for Darfur blog. Wow.

One of my students really wanted to make a slideshow about Darfur:

christdarfur

briDarfur

briDarfur (5)

christdarfur (1)

christdarfur (2)

christdarfur (3)

And here are the class podcasts (they are a bit long):

The kids are now talking about ways to raise some money to help the Darfur relief agencies and we are bouncing around some ideas. I love that the writing and blogging is moving into social action.

Peace (in the world),
Kevin

Twitter — explained

Wanna know about Twitter?
The folks at Common Craft have done it again.

[kml_flashembed movie="http://www.youtube.com/v/ddO9idmax0o" width="425" height="350" wmode="transparent" /]

@Peace (in the twitterverse),
Kevin

Darfur Project: An overview and a launch

The Many Voices for Darfur was the focus of a recent Teachers Teaching Teachers webcast in which students and teachers talk about the blogging social action project that launches today and tomorrow to gather many posts from young people around the world.

Listen to the TTT episode.

If you want to learn more, or if you want to get your students involved, you can head to the Many Voices for Darfur Project.

Peace (with students taking action),
Kevin

Slice of Life, Chapter Six

(This is part of the Slice of Life Project)

Sigh. Today’s slice of life is all about frustration.

At my school, I am one of the two technology coordinators, which really means that if your printer goes down or your email doesn’t work, we hack into your computer and tell you the words you most want to hear: “I have no idea what’s wrong. Sorry.” And then we call in the real technology support from the school district. You can imagine, though, how busy I look while I sit at your computer and how much tech jargon can fall from my mouth when I want it too.

No, it’s not like that. Not really. We do kind of know what we are doing, some of the time.

Anyway, one of my tasks is to keep one of our carts of laptops up and running, which I don’t mind doing since having the cart housed in my room makes it SO much easier for my students to use them. But, from time to time, I do have to say goodbye and watch the rolling house of computers go out of my room to another classroom. That is good. That means more kids are using technology.

But …. I wish other teachers would take better care of the equipment. It’s bad enough reminding kids to be careful. “That costs $1,000 — if you drop it, your parents buy us a new one!” I also have to come down hard on my teaching friends and colleagues, who just don’t seem to get it. And here is one reason why there is often a great divide between teachers and technology coordinators. At our school, teachers have ripped power cords from the wall (luckily averting a power surge into the cart of laptops), lost crucial connecting wires for our video cameras (Did you know a power cord for a video camera costs almost as much as the camera itself?), dropped digital cameras, misplaced microphones and headphones, and let kids do all sorts of stuff unattended on the computers.

Yesterday morning, I opened up the computer cart — my students are part of the Many Voices for Darfur social action project — and I completely flipped out. All of the power cords from the laptops were jumbled up in a rat’s nets of wires. It was an incredible tangle that was jammed so tight together that I could barely get the laptops out of the cart. It was like trying to do a complex piece of origami with the shakes. I was furious and had to spend 15 minutes of my own precious time working all of the wires free and tucking them back in, and then I discovered that a handful of the laptops had not even been plugged in to the cart the night before and so, they were never charged up. Ahhhhh.

Luckily, there were no kids in earshot as I swore my head off, cursing and muttering to myself. I was much cooler later in the day when I confronted one of the teachers who had used the cart. She expressed ignorance and said she had seen the wires but did not know if it had been her students or if it had been like that before she got the cart from another teacher. What? I had to resist the urge to berate her (since that is very unprofessional) so I diplomatically used my words (just like we teach our kids) to let her know that SHE NEEDS TO A BETTER JOB OF TAKING CARE OF THE COMPUTERS!!!

Sigh.

Peace (in untangling the mess of life),
Kevin

Day in a Sentence (as couplet)

Day in Sentence IconHow is your day going? Your week?

I invite you to join our community of short-prose writers in the Day in a Sentence and boil down your week and share. (see archives) This week’s twist comes via a suggestion from one of our regulars, who asked that we try a couplet.

I am always up for poetry so let’s give it a shot. Here is how it works:

  • Think about a day of your week, or your entire week
  • Boil it down to the essence (add some spice and simmer)
  • Write a couplet (two lines that rhyme is general enough of a definition for this effort)
  • Use the comment feature on this post and submit your couplet
  • I will collect all of the writing and release them on Sunday
  • If you want to podcast your couplet, even better. You can either provide a link in your post or you can email me your audio file and I will host for you. Send the audio to dogtrax(at)gmail(dot)com.
  • Be part of the writing community! Everyone is welcome!

Here is my couplet and podcast for the week:

How many times can I shout: stay focused on your work!
before the kids begin to whisper, Mr. H has gone berserk.

Peace (in rhyme),
Kevin