Yes, I saw this in the trailer for Safe Haven. Yes, I plan on seeing it on a date. And, yes, that date will in fact be with my roommate Mallory. And, yes, we will buy Raisinets and popcorn. The end.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Beneath that veil of clouded blue
{image via}
KEVIN: Why don't you go over and ask her to dance?PAUL: Is she looking over here?
KEVIN: No, she's not looking over here.
PAUL: Good. (Frowns.)
KEVIN: She's coming over here.
CARLA: Hi, Paul.
PAUL: Hi, Carla.
KEVIN: Carla?
(Shot of the three of them. Kevin joins their hands together.)
KEVIN: I think Paul over here has a little something to ask you.
CARLA: OK!
(Shot of Paul smiling as Carla pulls him onto the dance floor. Kevin smiles in the background.)
(Shot of Carla and Paul as she starts to dance. Paul kinda stands there, snapping his fingers.)
(Close shot of Kevin frowning at them off-screen, as he gets more punch.)
It was as sorrowful a spectacle as I had ever seen on the evening news. But then an amazing thing began to happen. Paul actually began to enjoy himself. By my third cup of punch, he was having the time of his life and I began to realize what a miserable time I was having.
I've been watching The Wonder Years lately (about once a week). It provides a nice break from a life of lesson planning, grad schooling, data tracking, grading, printing, stapling, IEPing, evaluating and teacher collaborating. Sometimes it is nice to just tune out the responsibilities and take some time to just... relax. Past weekends I've wrestled with intentions of getting at least some work done on Saturday and then facing the reality that I am actually not going to get anything done. So, this Saturday, I had class from 8-1 and I decided to just contently laze around the rest of the day. I didn't allow myself to feel guilty about it because I knew I would shortly be back to the grind less than 24 hours later. The Wonder Years has me reflecting on my own schooling growing up, and the teaching I'm currently immersed in. I can get so caught up in the academic piece of teaching, that I forget to consider student relationships. Are their actions provoked by a longing to impress so-and-so? Does so-and-so actually have legit reasons for not wanting to be so-and-so's partner? In elementary school we want to church once a week at the end of the day. We walked in two lines - boys and girls. We then filed into the pews boy, girl, boy, girl. Everyone counted their position in line to try to strategically place themselves next to someone they wanted to sit next to. I wonder if any of my students do silly things like this too?
Anyway...
Here I sit in a coffee shop (go ahead and laugh, Matt) and I take a few minutes to write and listen to music before I begin the checklist of Sunday have-to's. Right now I'm feeling grateful. I'm grateful for a lot, but I don't always name it. Last year I came across a quote that read, "Start each day with a grateful heart." It helped catalyze my day with positive energy. Instead of focusing on the things I wasn't looking forward to, I started listing things I was grateful for. With that being said, I still struggle to get my behind out of bed. Once a late sleeper, always a late sleeper.
Although the list could go on and on, here is a short list of things I am grateful for...
1) My family - Mom, Dad, Matt, and Kevin
2) All my wonderful aunts, uncles and cousins
3) My dog Lenny - a boss since day one
4) My friends, both those far away and nearby. Whether it be current laughter or memories of laughter, your support and love will always mean the world to me.
5) Coffee
6) Funny books -- "Letters From A Nut" by Ted L. Nancy
7) Eggs benedict
8) My students, my students, my students - both current and past
*The list is not really in a specific order. Although I do love eggs benedict, my kids definitely rank higher in importance.
A song for you... It has nothing to do with my life right now, but Otis Redding will always be a classic.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Kindergartners speaking their minds
{Image via}
Life in the elementary wing...
During my prep a kindergartner knocked on my door and craned his neck into my room...
DJ: Did somebody order coffee and hot wiiiiiiings?
Me: Why yes I did.
DJ walks in and puts a plastic mug, plate and chicken drumstick on my desk. He waits for me to pretend consume all the items and pretend give him money. Once I have finished....
Me: May I ask where I just dined?
DJ: DJ's Doughnut Shop.
There are plenty of perks of having an office across from the Kindergarten room.
Before winter break I played in a staff/student basketball game. In response to seeing that game, a kindergartner said, "Ms. B, you are AWESOME at baseball. Even better than my grandpa!" By "baseball" he meant "basketball." And by "awesome" he was referring to my 3 missed free throws and the 4 lay-up points I managed to score when no one was guarding me. But, ya know, it's all tomato, tomahto, to a kindergartner. Nothing quite like the innocent naivety of a 5 year old to make you feel like a NBA all star.
Missing: Summer days at home on my hammock
Listening to: "I Know You" by Bright Eyes
Craving: Double baked potato
Wishing: I could make a documentary on my students. Honestly, their lives and what they say on a daily basis is film worthy!
Happy: That this bike is on its way tomorrow!
Reading: "Teaching Essentials: Expecting the Most and Getting the Best From Every Learner," for class and "The Red Tent" for book club
Need: Strategies to help get my butt out of bed in the morning
Thinking about: Upcoming trip to the Sundance Film Festival !!!
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Momentum
Don't get me wrong, I am loving this brief winter break from teaching. But, in all honesty, I miss my kids and I am itching to get back to Minneapolis to work with them! Last week I had a meeting with my advisor and we analyzed the data I've collected so far on my students and looked at where they are academically and where they need to be by the end of the year. I feel the urgency!
These quotes help trigger more momentum for 2nd semester...
"Once you learn to read, you will be forever free." Frederick Douglass - one of my role models
“Frederick Douglas taught that literacy is the path from slavery to freedom. There are many kinds of slavery and many kinds of freedom, but reading is still the path.” Carl Sagan
"Feeling without judgment is a washy draught indeed; but judgment untempered by feeling is too bitter and husky a morsel for human deglutition." Jane Eyre
The following song is a song that my students LOVE. Big time. They call it, "When I get older." Hearing them sing this song always makes me so happy. I don't think they realize right now at their young age the weight of the lyrics, but some day I think they will.
The following song is a song that my students LOVE. Big time. They call it, "When I get older." Hearing them sing this song always makes me so happy. I don't think they realize right now at their young age the weight of the lyrics, but some day I think they will.
Photos:
1) Me and Lenny before Christmas. His red eye is ridiculous.
2) Pops visiting me in Minnesota. Just a young college kid at heart.
3) Momma in Florida.
4) Self-explanatory.
5) Dad in Florida.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Bear Hug
Yesterday was a good day, a real good day. It was the last school day before winter break. Everyone was a little anxious and the school felt a little chaotic, but people were genuinely happy. Kids were doing crafts and there were winter movies playing in the background. I wrote each of my kids a note just simply saying how proud I was of them and how lucky I felt to have them in my life. Seeing their wide grinning smiles as I helped them read their individual letters felt so calming and my spirits were high. Each of them hugged me and my student DW said to his friend on the way out of my room, "I can't wait to show this to my grandma and hang it on the fridge."
Bus dismissal is always crazy. Kids are running to catch their buses as they clunk over snow banks. They drop their art project. They say, "Wait, I think I need to go the bathroom." My response: "There's no time, little one. There's no time." They say, "Oh man," and continue to clunk along, their hat too big for their tiny head and their mittens almost slipping off their tiny hands. They attempt to make snowballs and then get shut down. They try to sneak off their bus so they can run in the snow. Again, shut down. They press their faces up against the glass, totally unaware of the germs, and mouth, "Bye, teacher!!!!" with an over-enthusiastic wave.
I was hurriedly trying to find my student M because he got his first 100% on a spelling test and I really wanted him to be able to take it home to show his parents. As I'm frantically stepping on and off each of the 7 buses trying to find him, I suddenly hear a soft voice a few feet behind me. Who is it? M of course. His big ole hat is shading his eyes, and his oversized fleece jacket drapes his small frame. His pants sag a little, not because he is trying to be cool, but because his pants are too big for him and his green belt doesn't tighten tight enough. Exasperated, I say, "M, I've been looking for you!"and I hand him his graded spelling test. He then says quickly in reply, "I've been looking for you too, Ms. B." He then does his oh-so-adorable, gap-toothed smile and gives me a big bear hug and hands me a note that simply says, "To Ms. B... Love M" and it has a picture he drew of the two of us reading a book. He then gave me the sincerest, "Merry Christmas," I've ever received and another hug. "I'll miss you over break!" he shouted. Before I could even reply, he was turned around running after his bus, his hands holding onto his pant loops to keep his pants from falling. I love that kid. I really do.
A song.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Runaway Train
{Just proudly sitting on a tree branch circa 1993}
{My brothers. No wonder I ended up being a goof. Look at my role models}
{A photo my ma took a few years back in the woods by our house}
In 1993 I was 4 years old, rocking a boy haircut and goofy grinning left and right. A few states away, in Minnesota, these
guys were jamming away. 19 years later... I drove down Lyndale Ave and this song came on.
Beautiful. Not exactly relevant to my life right now, but a nice song to listen to on the way home from an evening with friends.
5 days until I'm home for winter break. One. Step. At. A. Time.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
I once was a kid with the other little kids
That's me as a kid with all the other little kids. The ridiculous photo of me with the balloons is from when I was in 5th grade and broke my nose. I believe this is the only photo that exists of me with my nose cast. A wonderful, shining moment in my life. Top photo: Kindergarten graduation on far right in the white dress with navy trim next to two of my besties to this day, Sam and Anne. 2nd photo: Preschool play date in the jean dress. 3rd photo: 1st day of Kindergarten in the green and blue checkered dress. 4th photo: Just being a preschool beauty.
You know you are a kid when:
You can't stop obsessing over the mechanical pencil your teacher took away from you when you were play fighting with it during breakfast. You only rest assured once she promises to return it at the end of the day.
You know you are an adult when:
You forget how important/cool a mechanical pencil is to a first grader, and forget to return it to said first grader at the end of the day even though you promised.
*Mechanical pencil has been returned and teacher/student relationship is intact.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Sunday
Black and White - Genoh - Minnesota photographer
Emma's Rug - A favorite book of mine growing up by Allen Say
Painting of Minneapolis skyline by Dave Lechko
I really want to have a little conversation with the man or woman who decided that a 5:2, week:weekend ratio was a good idea. What were they thinking? It just seems like yesterday I was packing up my teacher belongings from my classroom and looking forward to the weekend. And now? Weekend has come and gone. But, rather than complaining about the inevitable, I'll instead be grateful that I had a wonderful, relaxing weekend.
A funny movie has great powers to ease the annoyingness (not a word) of dealing with grad school work that managed to pile up. Breakfast with friends for laughs and a sense of calm. Chocolate peppermint bark ice cream just because it made sense at the time and I don't regret it for a second. Weekly library outing with my students. Brief Panera stops with them for good measure. Buckling down and getting lesson plans finished efficiently. Finding a picture of your mom with a perm and a picture of your brother in high school rocking a similar look.
I haven't done any writing in awhile....
I live there. No, not there. There. Behind the brick building. Not the one with the ivy. Not the one with the porch. The cracked window. The rusty lawn chair sitting in yesterday's snow. With an American flag from 4th of July, Summer '99. With wrappers in trees, glistening in the dusk's lullabying sun. Where the babies are crying. Where I hold my little brother's hand as we watch cartoons. Where the sidewalk has crumbling curbs. Where yesterday's news is yesterday's news.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Saturday, November 17, 2012
On A Saturday Like This
{Lake Mendota via}
{Gregory Peck on set for To Kill a Mockingbird via}
{Orange and blue via}
On a Saturday like this.
An early wake up and cozy morning with my roommate where we sit in bed and wonder where President Obama would have lived had he not been reelected. No consensus made. My 2nd grade student waiting on his front stoop for me to pick him up to go to the library and him hugging me as soon I got out of the car. Man, I love that kid. Going to Panera and him saying that the bacon, egg and cheese breakfast sandwich he ordered was the best thing he's ever eaten. He then proceeded to the register to ask them how they made their sandwiches because he wants to, "Start making this gooooooood stuff at home." Classic. A nice, long phone conversation with family. A walk around Lake Harriet on this warm, sunny day.
Yup. And this. There's always this. It may or may not be the third time I've posted this beauty. Don't care. Still making me laugh. Extras. So good. Make time to see the series if you haven't.
*Going to town on fragments.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
I love my students
{The school cafeteria... Where chaos and laughter erupt.}
{A painting hanging in my room. Instant good mood.}
{Poster I made hanging in my room.}
I need to start each day being grateful. I am fortunate to have a job where laughter is inevitable. I love working with kids. I love being a teacher. I need to start documenting the sweet shenanigans my students say more frequently.
"Yo Mama G, is there chicken up in the kitchen?" - 3rd grader response to an assignment that asked them to write a question using at least 3 sight words, one proper noun, one noun that's a thing and one noun that's a place.
"Ms. B, don't make it too hot." - 3rd grader said while pointing and winking. This was in response to me saying I had to heat my lunch up in the microwave and him remembering the last time I did and almost choked on food that was too hot.
"Am I your favorite student? I hope so, cuz you're my favorite teacher."- 3rd grader
"Who let the dimes out???? Ten, ten, ten, ten!!!!!" - helping us to remember a dime is worth 10 cents.
"I've got a nickel. I've got a nickel. I'm gonna buy a pickle with my nickel. Fiiiiive cents, fiiiive cents!!" - helping us remember a nickel is worth 5 cents.
"You look sooooo cute today!" - Kindergartner said with a little hand flip.
"Your hair is soft. Like ice cream." - Kindergartner said while petting my hair as I try to tie another kid's shoe.
"My grandma rides horses and likes to rearrange her furniture. She also likes casinos." - 3rd grader
"My bus smells like fart. I think it's my sister's fault." - random comment from a 3rd grader during my math lesson.
"Ms. B, when is your birthday? Cuz I'm gonna buy you something at the dollar store." - 2nd grader
Conversation while joking around with a kindergartner.
Me: "DJ, do you have a mustache?"
DJ: "Ewwwww no. Mustaches are disgusting. Only dads have those."
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Are you still in Vallda?
This song. Again. And again.
"Every summer is the summer closer to further away from you."
{Image via}
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Faith in Humanity
1) My brother informed me today that if he and his fiance ever get a dog, they will get a beagle and they will name him Bagel.
2) I was early for grad class on Thursday, so I stopped at a coffee shop beforehand. A little girl around Kindergarten age had a piggy bank with her. Her dad bought himself a coffee. The girl counted out quarters and nickels to buy a hot chocolate. Good stuff.
3) After work on Wednesday, traffic was particularly bad. Instead of trying to fight it, I pulled off the highway and went to get food and read a book. An older man that works there came up to me with a piece of baklava and said, "For dessert. On the house." Day maker.
4) My dad sent me a note attached to an article about Jackson Hole just because he knows how much I love that heavenly place.
5) Momma sent me winter socks, a scarf and a thermal randomly in the mail this week. She constantly sends me reminders that confirm why she's my favorite lady in the world.
6) I was sitting next to two woman this morning at a coffee shop. The one was talking muchisimo gossip about someone in their Bible study. The other one then responded, "Why is it your damn business? Let that be between her and God." The other woman looked so shocked. After a few moments she then said, "You are so right. Thank you."
2) I was early for grad class on Thursday, so I stopped at a coffee shop beforehand. A little girl around Kindergarten age had a piggy bank with her. Her dad bought himself a coffee. The girl counted out quarters and nickels to buy a hot chocolate. Good stuff.
3) After work on Wednesday, traffic was particularly bad. Instead of trying to fight it, I pulled off the highway and went to get food and read a book. An older man that works there came up to me with a piece of baklava and said, "For dessert. On the house." Day maker.
4) My dad sent me a note attached to an article about Jackson Hole just because he knows how much I love that heavenly place.
5) Momma sent me winter socks, a scarf and a thermal randomly in the mail this week. She constantly sends me reminders that confirm why she's my favorite lady in the world.
6) I was sitting next to two woman this morning at a coffee shop. The one was talking muchisimo gossip about someone in their Bible study. The other one then responded, "Why is it your damn business? Let that be between her and God." The other woman looked so shocked. After a few moments she then said, "You are so right. Thank you."
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Practicing Fade-Aways
{Slam Dunk by Clifford Otto}
{Click here to listen to him read the poem}
{Click here to view his website}
Practicing Fade-Aways
—after Larry Levis
On a deserted playground in late day sun,
My palms dusted black, dribbling
A worn, leather ball behind my back, this loneliness
Echoes from the handball courts nearby.
Nearly all the markings—free throw lane, sideline,
Center circle—rubbed to nothing.
A crack in the earth cuts across the schoolyard,
Jagged as a scar on a choir boy‟s cheek.
Twenty years ago,
I ran this very court with nine other
Wanna-be ballers. We‟d steal
Through peeled chain links, or hop
The gate, to get here: our blacktop Eden.
One boy, who had a funny pigeon-toed set shot
And a voice full of church bells, sang spirituals
Every time he made a basket,
The other boys humming along, laughing,
High-fives flying down the court.
And a boy we called „The Sandman‟
For how he put you to sleep with his shoulder fake or drop step,
Over six feet tall in the tenth grade,
Smooth talker with an itch for older guys‟ girlfriends.
One Sunday morning, they found him stabbed to death
Outside the Motel 6, pockets untouched,
Bills folded neatly against his beautiful cooling thigh.
And „Downtown‟ Ricky Brown,
Whose family headed west when he was two
But still called himself a New Yorker,
Who never pulled from less than thirty feet out,
And could bank shots blindfolded.
He went to Grambling, drove himself
Crazy with conspiracy theories and liquor,
Was last seen roaming the French Quarter, shoeless, babbling
About the Illuminati‟s six-hundred sixty-six ways
To enslave the populace.
At sixteen, I discovered
Venice Beach, with its thousand bodybuilders,
Roller skates, and red thong bikinis.
I would stand on the sidelines and watch
The local ballplayers, leaping and hollering
Quicksilver giants, run and gun,
Already grown into their man bodies,
Funkadelic rising from a boombox in the sand.
Now, all I hear are chain nets chiming as I sink
One fade-away after another,
The backboard, the pole, throwing a long shadow
Across the cracked black asphalt.
What the nets want must be this caress,
This stillness stretching
Along every avenue, over high school
Gymnasiums and deserted playgrounds,
And the ambulance drivers drifting into naps
Back at the station house.
What the boys who ran these courts wanted was
A lob pass high enough
To pull them into the sky,
Something they could catch in both hands
And hang from,
Long enough for someone to snap
A photograph, to hold them there,
Skybound. Risen.
My palms dusted black, dribbling
A worn, leather ball behind my back, this loneliness
Echoes from the handball courts nearby.
Nearly all the markings—free throw lane, sideline,
Center circle—rubbed to nothing.
A crack in the earth cuts across the schoolyard,
Jagged as a scar on a choir boy‟s cheek.
Twenty years ago,
I ran this very court with nine other
Wanna-be ballers. We‟d steal
Through peeled chain links, or hop
The gate, to get here: our blacktop Eden.
One boy, who had a funny pigeon-toed set shot
And a voice full of church bells, sang spirituals
Every time he made a basket,
The other boys humming along, laughing,
High-fives flying down the court.
And a boy we called „The Sandman‟
For how he put you to sleep with his shoulder fake or drop step,
Over six feet tall in the tenth grade,
Smooth talker with an itch for older guys‟ girlfriends.
One Sunday morning, they found him stabbed to death
Outside the Motel 6, pockets untouched,
Bills folded neatly against his beautiful cooling thigh.
And „Downtown‟ Ricky Brown,
Whose family headed west when he was two
But still called himself a New Yorker,
Who never pulled from less than thirty feet out,
And could bank shots blindfolded.
He went to Grambling, drove himself
Crazy with conspiracy theories and liquor,
Was last seen roaming the French Quarter, shoeless, babbling
About the Illuminati‟s six-hundred sixty-six ways
To enslave the populace.
At sixteen, I discovered
Venice Beach, with its thousand bodybuilders,
Roller skates, and red thong bikinis.
I would stand on the sidelines and watch
The local ballplayers, leaping and hollering
Quicksilver giants, run and gun,
Already grown into their man bodies,
Funkadelic rising from a boombox in the sand.
Now, all I hear are chain nets chiming as I sink
One fade-away after another,
The backboard, the pole, throwing a long shadow
Across the cracked black asphalt.
What the nets want must be this caress,
This stillness stretching
Along every avenue, over high school
Gymnasiums and deserted playgrounds,
And the ambulance drivers drifting into naps
Back at the station house.
What the boys who ran these courts wanted was
A lob pass high enough
To pull them into the sky,
Something they could catch in both hands
And hang from,
Long enough for someone to snap
A photograph, to hold them there,
Skybound. Risen.
John Murillo
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