candy girl

Recently, I had a vision. I imagined little Starburst candies as earrings and thought they'd look adorable. So I made them, and guess what? They're adorable! They look exactly how I wanted them to look: little, lovely and luscious. It's like having sugar all the time but never rotting my teeth. It's ear candy that grabs the eye. I thought other people might like them, too, so I made a bunch and created my own Etsy shop where, if you're so inclined, you can buy a pair and give them as a gift to the sweetest girl you know. And, if that girl happens to be yourself, then all the better!

Here's the link to my shop:

http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=36046117

One of the other reasons I wanted to make these earrings is that I knew they'd be instant attention-getters. In my DYS classroom, where my students are not always the most motivated readers, every little effort to get these kids to perk up makes a difference. If they're watching me, they're more likely to listen to what I have to say, and less likely to look out the window at the crack house next door. Teachers, take heed! Score yourself a nifty pair of my starburst earrings and watch your students' test scores skyrocket! Pretty far-fetched, I know. But at the very least, kids (and adults) will notice these. And that's a start...

view from an urban fault line

each morning
driving up the avenue, I see the palette on my right:
prim clapboards, freshly painted
in warm, classic tones
tall, sloping rooflines
wide, sweeping porches
antique, stained glass,
sidewalks well-tended
and fertilized foliage.
Faces
freshly scrubbed,
expressing seriousness
and careful intention
on getting somewhere.

on my left
not fifty feet away, another painted scene:
scattered, overturned trash barrels
belching out debris,
cars, not new, disabled
Cracked foundations,
siding in obvious need of repair,
plywood sheets
where single-pane windows used to be.
Skin
in tones of varying shades,
all of them darker
(or is it dirtier?)
than white.

Here is the polarity
of my morning city commute.
Here is has,
and there is has not,
divided by route 83
and the apparent intentions of a few
to make the lives of so many
Less than.

The Talented Dr. Seuss

Dr. Seuss brings me my daily nugget of wisdom today. He's quoted as saying:

"Sometimes the questions are complicated, and the answers are simple."

Yes, wise doctor. You speak the truth.

an afternoon, and an ode to Miller Williams

We had yet another graduation today. About an hour ago, Jonah walked out the front door of G House, carrying a white plastic garbage bag with all of his belongings, as well as a visible parcel of pride and sense of accomplishment. Jonah came to G House via a lock-up facility in western Massachusetts after he stabbed someone last March, blind drunk and high.

I'll miss Jonah. I know he's got a tough life to go back to, but he's developed a solid array of coping skills and behavior management techniques during his time here. He went up at least two grade levels in reading during the three months I spent with him. Sure, he has challenges, but he's also acquired some newfound protective factors in his life that might just be the difference for him. I'll remember Jonah in my prayers.

After graduations here at G House, classes are suspended for the remainder of the day, for what feels like a of two-period holiday. On days like this I find myself with extra non-instructional time, which I can fill with lots of tasks on my never-ending punch list. I could be doing lots of Title I-related paperwork, updating student individual reading plans and combined record sheets, calculating fluency rates, planning lessons. But what I'd rather do is put my feet up and read Miller Williams' beautiful poetry.

Williams has spoken of poetry as a modern day life support system in a time when we are so tempted to pull away from the world, when the world offers so much to withdraw from, when we feel so frequently the urge to want to be a little anaesthetized, or a little more than a little. Poetry is the real amidst the fake. It's the rhythm among the chaos. It's the reminder to see things like compassion, and relations, and the loveliness of order within language. Miller Williams writes in a way that when I read his work, I feel like I am touching a grounding wire. His poetry removes the static, the low grade anxiety that seems to go along with how it feels to go about my day, each day, in this day and age.

Williams reminds me of something I feel I need to remember in order to stay alive when he writes, "We need poetry as we need love and company. It's a matter, finally, of whether we bring into our lives the real thing, naked and demanding, or something we simply inflate to look like the real thing, which neither demands nor gives."

On my way home from work today, I am going to stop at a bookstore, purchase a copy of Mr. Williams' work, wrap it up, and give it to my husband for Christmas. I look forward to discovering it, over and over again, with him.

come on, baby, light my fire

Today's Light A Fire educational quote of the day struck a chord:

"When we are unable to find tranquility within ourselves, it is useless to seek it elsewhere." ~~ Francois de La Rochefoucauld

I gotta hand it to that Barbara J. Feldman, the purveyor of Light A Fire quotations. Sometimes they really hit home with me. Thanks, Babs!

a small thank you

Well, after previewing the photo I just attached, I realize that either I had the shakes when I took this shot or the resolution on my phone camera is pretty subpar. The picture I took is of the tender good-bye note from Mr. Lopes, who did, in fact, leave the program (on good terms) yesterday. I had let him borrow a book over the Thanksgiving break, which he read cover to cover, and he did, in fact, return the book to me - much to the surprise of several staff members and one clinician. Seems like people here thought J-Lo was either going to 1) never crack the book, or 2) steal it. Neither of these scenarios took place.

It warmed the cockles of my heart when I arrived at my classroom door to find Hoop City sitting on a chair with a handwritten note. I realize that Mr. Lopes' inscription isn't quite legible in the image above, so I'll transcribe: "Thank you Miss, I loved this book. It's a graet book and I want to tank you for what you started in me becuase I think I love to read now. Thank you again. J-Lo."

This is the kid who, on his recent home pass, decided to drive a stolen car without a license and got himself arrested, no less than 48 hours before he was to have graduated from G House. This is the kid who everyone says is never going to make it, because of a lack of common sense and sound decision-making skills. It's true, J-Lo may be the kind of G House graduate who ends up in the adult system as a lifer. But in my eyes, I have to celebrate this tiny success story: a kid who announced to me on our first day of class, "Yo, Miss, I don't read" became the young man who thanked me for lighting a little fire of literacy in him. What a dramatic change.

I found Mr. Lopes before he headed out with his caseworker yesterday. I thanked him for all his hard work and dedication he showed in my class. I gave him two books to take with him, wished him the best of luck, and gave him a hug. Then, I went up to my classroom, sat at my desk, and had myself a quiet little cry.

I'm getting a new student tomorrow. And the story begins again...

pomp and (unfortunate) circumstance

As I drove to work on Monday, I thought about the noontime festivities that would await. Another graduation was going to take place, which meant 1)there'd be a house-wide gathering in which I, as well as the other teachers, would be expected to speak about the graduate-to-be; 2)one of the "old timers" (a kid who's been there a looooong time and was a wee tad older than the rest of the crowd) was finally gonna fly the coop; and 3) it didn't matter that I forgot my lunch, because with graduation comes a feast. Mmmm...I hadn't had much breakfast I guess, which is why I kind of meditated/obsessed on that last thought. The line staff at G House are excellent cooks, and they have a knack for using spices in a way that makes me salivate every time I hear the word "graduation."

So I was psyched for this day as I bounded up the front steps, bookbag on one shoulder, laptop case on the other. I punched in the code to unlock the front door, but it opened before I hit the last digit.

"Good morning, Miss," I heard a male voice say with a certain sort of intention. I peered around the corner into the office where the voice came from.

"Good morning?" It was a question, not a statement.

"Just to let you know, we will not be holding graduation today. Mr. Lopes was arrested over the weekend during his home pass for driving a stolen car without a license. He has gone back to lockup."

I see. So much for all the text-to-self connections we made to real life situations from our reading of realistic fiction. So much for comprehension strategies, for all of the work that the clinicians and line staff did with this young man. We all create our own learning curves, it's true. I had just hoped that this boy would have realized that the city in which he lives is crawling with cops, just waiting for him and other kids like him to screw up.

Cops 1, Young Mr. Lopes 0.

Today Mr. Lopes returned to G House for what I hear is another week and a half's worth of "hard time" before giving graduation another college try. November 30 is his next shot. Stay tuned...