The highlight, for me, of our spring break diving trip in Belize, was swimming alongside this turtle for a good five minutes. Eye-to-eye, we shared this moment. What a blast!
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Monday, March 06, 2006
Spring Break is Coming! Spring Break is Coming!
Here's what I'll be doing over spring break . . .
Friday night, our search committee took our final candidate out to dinner. The folks at the table started counting the number of times I said "Belize." I think the count was about 10 in an hour and a half.
I'm expecting to come back tanned, fatter, and happier. I'm certainly not taking any work with me. Sigh. Can't wait.
Friday night, our search committee took our final candidate out to dinner. The folks at the table started counting the number of times I said "Belize." I think the count was about 10 in an hour and a half.
I'm expecting to come back tanned, fatter, and happier. I'm certainly not taking any work with me. Sigh. Can't wait.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Green is the Color
My wonderful spouse packed his backpacking gear in his Vapor Trail last night, in preparation for his trip to the Rockies Ruck this weekend.
When I saw him in that backpack, I slowly turned green.
Because of some work commitments, I can't go to the Ruck this year, and that does not make me happy. However, when I think about it, I just repeat my mantra: "Spring break is coming. Spring break is coming. Spring break is coming."
It's odd that I've been having spring breaks as long as I can remember. Since I was 5 years old, I've been in school, either teaching or being taught, and spring break is a staple of the school experience. So much so, that when I first met Footslogger, who is not an educator, I cracked him up by asking "So what are you doing for spring break?"
I guess not everyone gets spring break. So sad for you guys!
I'm still waiting with bated breath to find out if any of my poetry gets published... will let you know when I find out.
When I saw him in that backpack, I slowly turned green.
Because of some work commitments, I can't go to the Ruck this year, and that does not make me happy. However, when I think about it, I just repeat my mantra: "Spring break is coming. Spring break is coming. Spring break is coming."
It's odd that I've been having spring breaks as long as I can remember. Since I was 5 years old, I've been in school, either teaching or being taught, and spring break is a staple of the school experience. So much so, that when I first met Footslogger, who is not an educator, I cracked him up by asking "So what are you doing for spring break?"
I guess not everyone gets spring break. So sad for you guys!
I'm still waiting with bated breath to find out if any of my poetry gets published... will let you know when I find out.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Sick to my Stomach
When my younger brother was very small, he used to say "I've got a headache in my tummy."
That's what's going on with me now, except that the headache is in my tummy, my head, my bones, etc.
Got up at 5:15 this morning to take someone to the airport. Have eaten out almost every night this week, with candidates coming in. Stressing over the timing of the search and whether or not it will be successful and how to make everyone happy (I know, I can't) and how to get all my work done while still chairing the search committee.
Impossible, I know.
On the bright side, we have two (and hopefully, with the funding gods on our side, three) extremely qualified candidates coming in. Bright hopes all around. But it sure is a lot of work getting them here and getting them through their meetings, job talks, etc.
Longing for spring break . . . .
That's what's going on with me now, except that the headache is in my tummy, my head, my bones, etc.
Got up at 5:15 this morning to take someone to the airport. Have eaten out almost every night this week, with candidates coming in. Stressing over the timing of the search and whether or not it will be successful and how to make everyone happy (I know, I can't) and how to get all my work done while still chairing the search committee.
Impossible, I know.
On the bright side, we have two (and hopefully, with the funding gods on our side, three) extremely qualified candidates coming in. Bright hopes all around. But it sure is a lot of work getting them here and getting them through their meetings, job talks, etc.
Longing for spring break . . . .
Friday, February 10, 2006
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Melted Honey
I found this rough draft of a poem in last year's composition book.
Made of stone
Sheathed in silk
Atop stiletto heels.
Not a sign of feeling escapes
Nor a breath of joy or despair.
A picture of perfect elegance
Made hard by those feelings now bricked up:
Life's unfailing plagues
Of sorrow and triumph and pain and elation.
Some force within me longs
To ruffle the feathers,
To mar the silken surface.
To tap the hardened stone
And see the honey flow forth.
Made of stone
Sheathed in silk
Atop stiletto heels.
Not a sign of feeling escapes
Nor a breath of joy or despair.
A picture of perfect elegance
Made hard by those feelings now bricked up:
Life's unfailing plagues
Of sorrow and triumph and pain and elation.
Some force within me longs
To ruffle the feathers,
To mar the silken surface.
To tap the hardened stone
And see the honey flow forth.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Face Plant
Lest you think that I have some new kind of ivy or rhododendron growing from my visage, here's the gruesome story.
On Sunday last, I went with my caretaking spouse, a doctor from the clinic where said spouse works, and the wonderful young woman the doctor is currently dating for a day of skiing at Snowy Range Ski Area just outside of beautiful Laramie, Wyoming.
The powder was deep, it snowed all day long, the company was fantastic, the roads weren't too bad. We had a fantastic time. Except for me, on my first run down Ogalalla.
I'm not the greatest skiier, let me assure you up front. I'm decent, but I'm usually cautious. On Sunday, however, I had some kind of wildness boiling in my blood that prompted me to say, "Sure! Let's do Ogalalla first!" Ogalalla isn't bad, but it's steeper than I usually do on my first run of the day. Let's just say that I need that slow first run of the day in order to work out the kinks, remind my body of what it takes to keep control while sliding down a hill on wooden planks, etc.
Fiberglass, whatever.
I didn't quite get that slow first run. Instead, I went screaming down Ogalalla and ended up with my face planted firmly in a snow bank about half way down. That's after spending a few minutes careening down the hill, way out of control, a few seconds flailing wildly, and a few miliseconds spreading my gear across the mountainside in a yard sale, just missing a snowboarder by inches.
When I pulled my face out of the snow, I noticed the blood.
Noses bleed a lot when they've been slammed into the side of a mountain. Luckily, my compatriots came along (they were behind me -- was I trying to show off? Perhaps, but that is the story of another post) with advice and Kleenex. Lie back, shove this kleenex up your nose, don't worry about the blood streaming down the side of your face and onto your new skiing outfit....
I don't want you think that it ruined my day. It didn't. Just slowed me down. A lot.
On Sunday last, I went with my caretaking spouse, a doctor from the clinic where said spouse works, and the wonderful young woman the doctor is currently dating for a day of skiing at Snowy Range Ski Area just outside of beautiful Laramie, Wyoming.
The powder was deep, it snowed all day long, the company was fantastic, the roads weren't too bad. We had a fantastic time. Except for me, on my first run down Ogalalla.
I'm not the greatest skiier, let me assure you up front. I'm decent, but I'm usually cautious. On Sunday, however, I had some kind of wildness boiling in my blood that prompted me to say, "Sure! Let's do Ogalalla first!" Ogalalla isn't bad, but it's steeper than I usually do on my first run of the day. Let's just say that I need that slow first run of the day in order to work out the kinks, remind my body of what it takes to keep control while sliding down a hill on wooden planks, etc.
Fiberglass, whatever.
I didn't quite get that slow first run. Instead, I went screaming down Ogalalla and ended up with my face planted firmly in a snow bank about half way down. That's after spending a few minutes careening down the hill, way out of control, a few seconds flailing wildly, and a few miliseconds spreading my gear across the mountainside in a yard sale, just missing a snowboarder by inches.
When I pulled my face out of the snow, I noticed the blood.
Noses bleed a lot when they've been slammed into the side of a mountain. Luckily, my compatriots came along (they were behind me -- was I trying to show off? Perhaps, but that is the story of another post) with advice and Kleenex. Lie back, shove this kleenex up your nose, don't worry about the blood streaming down the side of your face and onto your new skiing outfit....
I don't want you think that it ruined my day. It didn't. Just slowed me down. A lot.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Cowgirls Beat CSU
Went to the Cowgirls basketball game last night with my spouse. Was it ever an exciting game. Here's the freakiest thing about it -- in the second half, with 15 seconds left in the game, UW was down by 5. 15 seconds. Down by 5.
Then Jodi made a three-pointer, Erin stole an inbound pass for a bucket, and voila! UW is tied with CSU, with 7 seconds left.
In overtime, we went on to beat CSU, 87-80 or something like that.
When we got home, I had a sore throat from screaming so much.
Then Jodi made a three-pointer, Erin stole an inbound pass for a bucket, and voila! UW is tied with CSU, with 7 seconds left.
In overtime, we went on to beat CSU, 87-80 or something like that.
When we got home, I had a sore throat from screaming so much.
Not Really an Excuse
I know it has been much too long since my last post. No excuses. I should be posting more.
But . . .
(you knew that was coming, right?)
Here's the thing. I am not exactly anonymous here, and sometimes I get to wondering how I can really write anything somewhat approximating my experiences without pissing off my bosses, embarassing my students, implicating my spouse, or just plain making myself look foolish.
When those feelings overwhelm (and really, when the only things I have to talk about are things that would .... see above) I tend to go into hibernation. Work hard. And not blog.
But I had a bit of a breakthrough today, so I thought I would blog about it.
I'm teaching an intensive weekend course starting tomorrow, and planning for the Friday evening and all day Saturday has taken up a GOOD CHUNK of my time lately. Even with all of the work I've put into planning for the class, I started thinking this afternoon that I'm going to end up teaching until noon on Saturday and then run out of things to do.
That's a bad feeling.
So I sat down today, got out my composition book, and did some writing/thinking about what would I want to know about research in writing instruction at the secondary level, if I were a student in my class? Boom. Massive amount of content that I can deliver, that my students can debate and discuss and use for their projects, and that I actually have material on in my office. Cool, huh?
Topics to be enlarged upon before tomorrow afternoon at 1:00:
*** Research on response to student writing
*** Research on grammar and the teaching of writing
*** Research on the process approach to writing instruction
Now I must buckle down.
Thanks for stopping by.
But . . .
(you knew that was coming, right?)
Here's the thing. I am not exactly anonymous here, and sometimes I get to wondering how I can really write anything somewhat approximating my experiences without pissing off my bosses, embarassing my students, implicating my spouse, or just plain making myself look foolish.
When those feelings overwhelm (and really, when the only things I have to talk about are things that would .... see above) I tend to go into hibernation. Work hard. And not blog.
But I had a bit of a breakthrough today, so I thought I would blog about it.
I'm teaching an intensive weekend course starting tomorrow, and planning for the Friday evening and all day Saturday has taken up a GOOD CHUNK of my time lately. Even with all of the work I've put into planning for the class, I started thinking this afternoon that I'm going to end up teaching until noon on Saturday and then run out of things to do.
That's a bad feeling.
So I sat down today, got out my composition book, and did some writing/thinking about what would I want to know about research in writing instruction at the secondary level, if I were a student in my class? Boom. Massive amount of content that I can deliver, that my students can debate and discuss and use for their projects, and that I actually have material on in my office. Cool, huh?
Topics to be enlarged upon before tomorrow afternoon at 1:00:
*** Research on response to student writing
*** Research on grammar and the teaching of writing
*** Research on the process approach to writing instruction
Now I must buckle down.
Thanks for stopping by.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Triple the Fun
We returned home from our Christmas extravaganza at the home of my brother, his lovely wife, and their oh-so-precocious triplet boys (2.5 years of age), graced by the presence of Mom, Sam, assorted in-laws on either side, lots of booze, neighbors, parties, gifts, etc. What a fun and yet exhausting time!
My mom has written a lively, yet short recap of the experience. I'm still waiting on her permission to post it, but while I wait, I'll just let you know that I returned from Texas with a lovely cold and earache (thanks, boys!) that is just now beginning to simmer down.
Meanwhile, I'm working away on lots of projects, getting ready for next week when classes start, student teaching supervision begins, and I'll be making a trip to the center of the state to do some professional development in Casper.
It's lovely to be able to do all of this from home . . .
OK -- here's Mom's recap of
Christmas with the Triplets
by
Barbara M. Tobias
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and Matthew was running full tilt: through the den, around the corner into the living room, on into the dining room, back down the hall through the kitchen to make the full circle. Alexander was right behind him with William gaining fast. All three giggling and squealing with sheer delight. You don’t know how loud the pitter-patter of little feet can be until there are six little feet running, all fueled by the M&Ms they managed to get their hands on and the excitement of Christmas Eve.
They are not quite sure yet just what this Santa guy is up to, but everyone else is excited, so they’re in high gear too. Not enough to give serious consideration to being “good” but enough to lift the decibel level.
After they are finally asleep—at least we think they are sleeping—the six adults creep up the stairs to put Santa’s loot together. There is a bicycle. A real two-wheeler with training wheels. And there is a tricycle posing as a motorcycle complete with all the vroom-vroom sounds when you push a button. But the star of the show is a Hummer. Mustard yellow, squat and awesome. It runs on a rechargeable battery, moves when you press the “gas” pedal, turns when you turn the steering wheel, and even goes into reverse.
We were a motley team: two salespeople, one medical tech, one college professor, one computer programmer, and (thank Heaven) one mechanical engineer. But in spite of the somewhat limited qualifications, we managed to get most of the toys assembled. Getting the Hummer down the stairs was a challenge, but we were up to it.
And then we opened the box containing the table that was supposed to play host to a train track, trestle, bridges, and even the train. It contained no less than two dozen pieces, a bag of assorted screws, nuts and bolts, and not one single word of instruction. A three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle. The professor and the programmer looked at it, looked at each other, and called the engineer. There was a bit of trial and error. We discovered that you cannot put the drawer stops in place before the drawer is in its slots. We also discovered that right and left have meaning even when they are not marked.
There was much laughing and head scratching and video taking. I suspect the latter may lead to a bit of blackmail somewhere down the line, but not at Christmas, surely. We even managed to get the monster down the staircase and in place under the tree before exhaustion set in and we all fell into bed.
The first thing I saw when I stumbled into the room with the toys after the boys woke on Christmas morning was Will. He had a railroad car in each hand and was moving them carefully over the tracks. He continued to do so for the next two hours, ignoring all efforts to get him to open presents, play with bicycles or radio-controlled cars. He even ignored the mighty Hummer.
Matthew opened his own presents and was more than glad to help anyone else open theirs if they were not moving fast enough to suit him. Alex climbed on the tricycle and immediately mastered pushing buttons to make noises, although his real aim was to regain possession of the M&Ms that had been confiscated the evening before.
But the thing I will always remember about this Christmas is hearing the mother’s voice as I sat nursing a cup of coffee in the dining room: “No, Matthew, the Hummer will not fit into the kitchen.”
Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year.
My mom has written a lively, yet short recap of the experience. I'm still waiting on her permission to post it, but while I wait, I'll just let you know that I returned from Texas with a lovely cold and earache (thanks, boys!) that is just now beginning to simmer down.
Meanwhile, I'm working away on lots of projects, getting ready for next week when classes start, student teaching supervision begins, and I'll be making a trip to the center of the state to do some professional development in Casper.
It's lovely to be able to do all of this from home . . .
OK -- here's Mom's recap of
Christmas with the Triplets
by
Barbara M. Tobias
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and Matthew was running full tilt: through the den, around the corner into the living room, on into the dining room, back down the hall through the kitchen to make the full circle. Alexander was right behind him with William gaining fast. All three giggling and squealing with sheer delight. You don’t know how loud the pitter-patter of little feet can be until there are six little feet running, all fueled by the M&Ms they managed to get their hands on and the excitement of Christmas Eve.
They are not quite sure yet just what this Santa guy is up to, but everyone else is excited, so they’re in high gear too. Not enough to give serious consideration to being “good” but enough to lift the decibel level.
After they are finally asleep—at least we think they are sleeping—the six adults creep up the stairs to put Santa’s loot together. There is a bicycle. A real two-wheeler with training wheels. And there is a tricycle posing as a motorcycle complete with all the vroom-vroom sounds when you push a button. But the star of the show is a Hummer. Mustard yellow, squat and awesome. It runs on a rechargeable battery, moves when you press the “gas” pedal, turns when you turn the steering wheel, and even goes into reverse.
We were a motley team: two salespeople, one medical tech, one college professor, one computer programmer, and (thank Heaven) one mechanical engineer. But in spite of the somewhat limited qualifications, we managed to get most of the toys assembled. Getting the Hummer down the stairs was a challenge, but we were up to it.
And then we opened the box containing the table that was supposed to play host to a train track, trestle, bridges, and even the train. It contained no less than two dozen pieces, a bag of assorted screws, nuts and bolts, and not one single word of instruction. A three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle. The professor and the programmer looked at it, looked at each other, and called the engineer. There was a bit of trial and error. We discovered that you cannot put the drawer stops in place before the drawer is in its slots. We also discovered that right and left have meaning even when they are not marked.
There was much laughing and head scratching and video taking. I suspect the latter may lead to a bit of blackmail somewhere down the line, but not at Christmas, surely. We even managed to get the monster down the staircase and in place under the tree before exhaustion set in and we all fell into bed.
The first thing I saw when I stumbled into the room with the toys after the boys woke on Christmas morning was Will. He had a railroad car in each hand and was moving them carefully over the tracks. He continued to do so for the next two hours, ignoring all efforts to get him to open presents, play with bicycles or radio-controlled cars. He even ignored the mighty Hummer.
Matthew opened his own presents and was more than glad to help anyone else open theirs if they were not moving fast enough to suit him. Alex climbed on the tricycle and immediately mastered pushing buttons to make noises, although his real aim was to regain possession of the M&Ms that had been confiscated the evening before.
But the thing I will always remember about this Christmas is hearing the mother’s voice as I sat nursing a cup of coffee in the dining room: “No, Matthew, the Hummer will not fit into the kitchen.”
Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Not So Much
Apparently, I'm not going to take over the universe.
Not this year, anyway.
Had a meeting yesterday in which I was able to
*** not get what I asked for;
*** make a complete and utter fool of myself; and
*** feel betrayed and used,
all in the space of an hour and a half.
Lovely.
On the other hand, I got a phone call from my younger brother (father of triplets; all boys; 2 1/2 years old)and my sister-in-law that left me smiling. Family can do that, can't they? I'm so looking forward to seeing the boys for Christmas, and having a huge family blow-out holiday. Should be just the antidote for the bitterness I'm currently experiencing.
Not this year, anyway.
Had a meeting yesterday in which I was able to
*** not get what I asked for;
*** make a complete and utter fool of myself; and
*** feel betrayed and used,
all in the space of an hour and a half.
Lovely.
On the other hand, I got a phone call from my younger brother (father of triplets; all boys; 2 1/2 years old)and my sister-in-law that left me smiling. Family can do that, can't they? I'm so looking forward to seeing the boys for Christmas, and having a huge family blow-out holiday. Should be just the antidote for the bitterness I'm currently experiencing.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Queen of Grading
In the last three days I have graded
30 multigenre essential question compositions
17 unit designs
numerous assorted articles of late work
and now I have only
4 (FOUR) unit designs
and
7 10-page papers
to go.
I am the undisputed queen. Soon I will rule the universe.
30 multigenre essential question compositions
17 unit designs
numerous assorted articles of late work
and now I have only
4 (FOUR) unit designs
and
7 10-page papers
to go.
I am the undisputed queen. Soon I will rule the universe.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Commencing Today
Have I mentioned how much I love graduation ceremonies? I'm not sure if it's because I get to dress up in goofy looking, but oh-so-luxurious robes; or maybe it's seeing all of those parents' faces as their baby walks in the processional. Maybe it's the sappy speeches that seriously bring a tear to my eye (although, I have to confess, I often get teary-eyed at commercials, so that's not saying much). Is it the chance to see students -- both undergraduate and graduate -- who also look goofy in their robes and pizza box hats, by the way -- strutting their stuff across the stage? Sitting with my colleagues and standing up to applaud the parents, children, brothers and sisters, spouses who have been supportive of the graduates?
I can't say, but I love it. And today, there was only one person graduating who was in my class. Next May, when this year's English education majors graduate, I'll be a basket of quivering emotional jelly. This is one of the best reasons to be a teacher.
Sappy, I know.
I can't say, but I love it. And today, there was only one person graduating who was in my class. Next May, when this year's English education majors graduate, I'll be a basket of quivering emotional jelly. This is one of the best reasons to be a teacher.
Sappy, I know.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Homecoming
In the middle of a meeting, my department secretary handed me a Fed Ex package, which I hugged, kissed, and then lovingly opened. That's right. My composition book has been returned to me, and I've already begun to write in it again.
Thanks, Concierge Rosello!
Thanks, Concierge Rosello!
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Missing Composition Book
While at the airport in Miami on Friday, I wanted to write down a very important thought and went rifling through my backpack for my composition book. Now, for the last year or so, I've carried a composition book with me to every meeting, conference, class, and coffee shop trip, so it's become quite an important part of my life.
Missing. Composition. Book.
It has notes in it for articles I want to write, revisions to classes I'll teach again next year, ideas for research projects, to-do lists for every day of every week, poetry I'm in the midst of, and wandering thoughts about my identity, status, tenure potential, etc. Very important.
Here's what happened:
I was in Miami for the National Reading Conference, which is a fantastic opportunity to get tons of information and ideas, but also my one chance to see friends from graduate school. One of those friends from graduate school and I went out to dinner (a Cuban place -- the food was supposed to be good, but ended up being mediocre) and I didn't want to go back up to my room to put away my composition book. So . . . you guessed it, I left it with the concierge, very carefully taping my room number on the front of the book.
When I came back, we sat in the bar and had drinks, it got late, I got sleepy, so I headed up to my room. The next morning, I had a flight at 7 AM, so I left the hotel at 5:15, again completely forgetting about my life in the composition book at the concierge table.
So, Eduardo, I've sent you an email and spoken to you on the phone. If all of the planets are aligned, and if you read this, please, please, please send me my composition book. I'll be eternally grateful.
Missing. Composition. Book.
It has notes in it for articles I want to write, revisions to classes I'll teach again next year, ideas for research projects, to-do lists for every day of every week, poetry I'm in the midst of, and wandering thoughts about my identity, status, tenure potential, etc. Very important.
Here's what happened:
I was in Miami for the National Reading Conference, which is a fantastic opportunity to get tons of information and ideas, but also my one chance to see friends from graduate school. One of those friends from graduate school and I went out to dinner (a Cuban place -- the food was supposed to be good, but ended up being mediocre) and I didn't want to go back up to my room to put away my composition book. So . . . you guessed it, I left it with the concierge, very carefully taping my room number on the front of the book.
When I came back, we sat in the bar and had drinks, it got late, I got sleepy, so I headed up to my room. The next morning, I had a flight at 7 AM, so I left the hotel at 5:15, again completely forgetting about my life in the composition book at the concierge table.
So, Eduardo, I've sent you an email and spoken to you on the phone. If all of the planets are aligned, and if you read this, please, please, please send me my composition book. I'll be eternally grateful.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Highlights of the National Council of Teachers of English
I just returned from Pittsburgh, where I attended the National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE) annual convention, one that I have been attending regularly for the last few years. As usual, I ate too much, got too little exercise and sleep, and generally had a marvelous time.
HIGHLIGHTS:
*** Dinner on Friday night with about 60 members of the Talkies, a listserv of English teachers who have been my online and in-person friends since I joined several years ago. We ate at Mallorca, a lovely restaurant near one of the rivers in Pittsburgh (don't ask me which one). The waiters were funny and good-looking, the conversation was stimulating, the food was delicious. Good times all around.
*** Attending a session by Leila Christenbury, Anne Gere, and Kelly Sassi on strategies to help students become skilled at on-demand writing (picture the state assessments here) WITHOUT making test prep part of our curriculum. My methods class has been concerned about this issue, and I now have some great ideas to share with them, as well as a book to suggest (Writing on Demand by Christenbury, Gere, and Sassi).
*** Several dinners with teachers from Johnson Junior High School in Cheyenne, who are dedicated and caring teachers of their students. They are AWESOME people, amazing dinner companions, and very funny to boot. If there's anything I can help with, you guys, let me know!
*** Getting to spend time with Beth, a former student teacher, who is now teaching English in Wyoming. When she said to me, "I love these kids -- and they need me," I couldn't help but get a shiver. Makes me feel like I'm having an impact, and I love that!
*** A serious brainstorm while sitting on the plane, on the way home. I took out a draft of an article and revised the crap out of it, with the end result that it is about ready to send out. Just one more session and it should be done. I think I needed that opportunity to get my mind OFF the list of things to do here, and it got seriously into writing mode.
*** More great materials and ideas for my methods class. In addition, I'm setting up a blog with a few other English ed folks to discuss how we handle the teaching of reading comprehension strategies and pop culture/media literacy in the methods class. I'm also about to start moderating a listserv for those who attended the CEE colloquium on Monday, which was also about pop culture in the English/methods classroom.
*** Several people attended the policy session that we presented, and we have lots of ideas about developing an action network, beginning with those who came. It feels great to be involved and helping people to connect!
I could go on, but I think you get the idea. I'm exhausted, but it's a good tired.
Now, to get ready for Thanksgiving . . .
HIGHLIGHTS:
*** Dinner on Friday night with about 60 members of the Talkies, a listserv of English teachers who have been my online and in-person friends since I joined several years ago. We ate at Mallorca, a lovely restaurant near one of the rivers in Pittsburgh (don't ask me which one). The waiters were funny and good-looking, the conversation was stimulating, the food was delicious. Good times all around.
*** Attending a session by Leila Christenbury, Anne Gere, and Kelly Sassi on strategies to help students become skilled at on-demand writing (picture the state assessments here) WITHOUT making test prep part of our curriculum. My methods class has been concerned about this issue, and I now have some great ideas to share with them, as well as a book to suggest (Writing on Demand by Christenbury, Gere, and Sassi).
*** Several dinners with teachers from Johnson Junior High School in Cheyenne, who are dedicated and caring teachers of their students. They are AWESOME people, amazing dinner companions, and very funny to boot. If there's anything I can help with, you guys, let me know!
*** Getting to spend time with Beth, a former student teacher, who is now teaching English in Wyoming. When she said to me, "I love these kids -- and they need me," I couldn't help but get a shiver. Makes me feel like I'm having an impact, and I love that!
*** A serious brainstorm while sitting on the plane, on the way home. I took out a draft of an article and revised the crap out of it, with the end result that it is about ready to send out. Just one more session and it should be done. I think I needed that opportunity to get my mind OFF the list of things to do here, and it got seriously into writing mode.
*** More great materials and ideas for my methods class. In addition, I'm setting up a blog with a few other English ed folks to discuss how we handle the teaching of reading comprehension strategies and pop culture/media literacy in the methods class. I'm also about to start moderating a listserv for those who attended the CEE colloquium on Monday, which was also about pop culture in the English/methods classroom.
*** Several people attended the policy session that we presented, and we have lots of ideas about developing an action network, beginning with those who came. It feels great to be involved and helping people to connect!
I could go on, but I think you get the idea. I'm exhausted, but it's a good tired.
Now, to get ready for Thanksgiving . . .
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
