Dang, Subaru. You Being Seductive or What? You Give me a 2024 Mountaineer Crosstrek as a Loaner for a Few Days. Nope. Not Tempted...Yet

Oh, but I was really tempted. If I didn't dump money into the Hulk, I could have easily driven away with a sporty Mountaineer. It's definitely on my radar when I run the Hulk to the ground. I loved driving it and now need to wait in hopes they will (a) come out with a hybrid version and (b) offer a sunroof option. I like well-lit spaces. 

And I had another reason to treat myself to something great, too, as after several years, I went to the doctor and my blood pressure was on target. In fact, it was 118/77 (which it never is). The nurse and PA high-fived me because we've been strategizing on this for years. When they announced the success, I asked, "You want to see my legs," and I pulled up my pants to show them Tremfiya is working, too. The psoriasis was another bodily indicator of my stress level. The legs have been on fire for years, but as of this moment, they are clear without any burning. 

Of course we all talked about the worries of the medical field in the future, now that research has been defunded and, if it goes through, even flu vaccines are no longer a part of the U.S. fabric. The office was in quite an uproar. "Well, our lives will be interesting. That's for sure." This said as the one woman hacking up a lung in the lobby is likely to be many in the future. Phew. Human beings are simply outrageous.

I got one class graded, thankfully, and I need to transition to the other (needing a mental break to switch from an elementary mindset to a secondary one). 

Not so much looking forward to today, as there is an afternoon meeting that is likely to grow very contentious. I'm also keeping my radar on the State Department, because they cut CWP once again from their funding, which means I'll have to lobby as best I can. Of course, there's a bill to remove all certification programs at the State, too, so that anyone with a college degree can automatically become teachers without any training (where are we living right now?). No one knows who is sponsoring the bill, but it was snuck in for this year's legislation. 

The number of non-educators who have a say in education is rather large. I used to say that every college graduate should be required to do two things upon getting their degree: (1) teach for two years and (2) travel from one end of the country to the other. That'll learn just about everyone, especially those trapped deeply in their proverbial caves.

And with that...it's Friday (and the last day of February). I always enjoy my birthday month, but pretty much hate the weather. Someone posted we're in fake-spring now, which I had to laugh about, because we know ol' Man winter will take a couple more punches. This much we know to be true.

The Hulk Went In for an Oil Change, But There Were Other Issue to Contend With. Fix It, I Said, Gambling with the Cost of Repairs for More Longevity

I've enjoyed several months without car payments. Yes, my Subaru has 133,000 miles on it, but I'm not ready to tuck her in bed, goodnight. I love going into a parking lot of grey, black, and blue vehicles noting that my green monster is easy to spot. It's the little things in life. 

Ah, but she needed a new tire, new headlamps, new bearings, and an oil container leak repaired. I've been wondering if it was time for a new car...I've had her for 11 years...but she's been a great car. In fact, I'm sold on Subarus. So, I said, "Let's invest in these repairs, and hope she has more life to give." They laugh at me and say, "It's a Subaru. She has many more years to give. It's still low mileage in their opinion."

Good. I want to continue more months without a car payment.

They gave me a loaner for a couple of days, a sport Mountain Crosstrek with only 1,000 miles on it. I feel like a king on the road, but I mostly brought it home and parked it in the driveway. I like having an excuse to sit my arse down to get grading done. I'm getting there. 

It was another wonderful day, weather-wise, so I enjoyed the long walk with Karal. I also got a sub for lunch that filled my tummy quite well into the evening.

The Hulk will be okay. She, like Mt. Pleasant, have been my base for several years. In fact, yesterday was the 10-year anniversary when Chitunga and I got the keys to the new house. I don't know a driveway without her in it and I'm cheering her on as she sits in Milford for a few days. 

Fingers crossed it all goes well.

Never Underestimate the Power of a Green Balloon for Motivating Reluctant Learners to Participate in Classroom Conversations

I gave my students one task at their tables of 4 to 5: keep the green balloon in the air. All the students were submitting their first literacy lesson plans, paired with Ann E. Burg's Flooded: Requiem for Johnstown, and I knew they'd be frazzled because it's nerve-wracking turning in your first teacher-esque lesson plan. While they kept the green balloons in the air, I had a series of questions for them to ask about the ups and downs of their lesson plans, what worked and didn't work, where their frustration landed, and how their accomplishments were achieved. The activity lasted over 7 minutes and as I joined each group, kept the balloons going, I formatively oversaw what they were saying. 

True story: Class of 2006. I had a cohort of students that weren't into school, rarely did the work, and basically resisted instruction and goals for their academic success. One day, however, we tapped around a balloon and they became obsessed with keeping it in the air. Why they were motivated by this task, I'll never know, but instruction then became centered around balloon conversations. I'd have my daily objectives, and even if they wouldn't read or write, they'd talk about knowledge with the balloon in the air. This was my subversive way of instructing them, even as they didn't want to be instructed.

The graduate class last night read a chapter on motivation, and it paired well with the class on motivating writers two weeks before. We all realized there are multiple factors that motivate us, and the secret for teaching is to find the ways the young people we work with are motivated, even when they aren't into school, learning, or building pathways to their future. When the balloon worked with them, that's where I decided to go. Eventually, we were able to move beyond a balloon, but it took the balloon first. 

No, you can't make up the experiences most classroom teachers have. Too many think it's an easy job or one can snap their fingers and kids will want to do the work. This rarely, rarely happens. Teaching in college is very different. 

We're also reading Jarred Amato's new book Just Read It, and it's a great addition to get future educators (and in-practice teachers) to think about building literate communities when encountering non-readers in school. Like Amato, I've found that with the right books, the kids will read. Often, the books districts expect students to read simply results in Cliff Notes, gaming the system, cheating, and students disengaged with school. Amato noted that off all high school graduates that go to college (which is around 37% percent of them), only 1% will major in English programs. It's hard to get many to shift their idea of reading, its purposes, and its possibilities when most high schools are trying to prepare kids to be literary scholars (which the percentages show is not necessarily doable). 

Yes, motivating kids to read is what our goals should be. Central to it all is tapping the purposes for reading so the young people remain engaged with knowledge for the rest of their lives. 

The students were amazing last night of talking and keeping their green balloons in the air. Kudos to them, just like I cheered the reluctant readers in 2006. 

Post-Weekend Binge Bonanza. The Derry Girls on Netflix. Loved It. The History. The Comedy. The Time of Life Where 80s/90s Music Led Our Young Lives

I always think about arriving to London in 1992 and not being able to get to our flat because of an IRA bomb threat. Naive, and moderately educated Crandall simply asked, "Wait. What's the IRA?" I had no idea about Catholic/Protestant conflicts, the colonial history, the splits of northern and Southern Ireland, or the humor many took to survive. 

Bring on Derry Girls, a sitcom suggested to me, put out of my mind, and then accidentally discovered sometime last week. Let's just say I binged all three seasons as if it was therapy. I love the characters, the storyline, the Catholic school harshness - Sister Michael is something else -, the comedic brilliance, but more importantly the writing. It's a show that just works as a time capsule of that time, my time, and right now, resonating with the insanity of conflicts, religiosity, economic struggles, and my favorite, adolescence. I mean, I knew 80s/90s girls in the USA, but the parallel universe in Northern Ireland is just as entertaining. I've been to Donegal and Belfast, but I don't quite believe I was ever in Derry. 

I hinted at the show to my students and they've never heard of it. My favorites were Jamie-Lee O'Donnell (I always crush on the bad girls), Louisa Harland (the weird girls), and Kathy Kiera Clarke (the older woman). Saoirse-Monica Jackson play the hysterical character, Erin Quinn, who centers the cohort of oddities as she positions herself into the world of a conflicted city, almost forgotten by time. Perhaps the scene where they walk away from President Clinton's visit, because Dylan Llewellyn returns to reunite with the Derry Girls was my favorite.

I felt like I knew all of them...time capsules of my own adolescence and comeuppance. If you're looking for a show to entertain, make you think, and deliver a precious time of adolescence, this is the one. I'm late to the fandom, and I want more seasons and a movie of them all visiting St. Patty's Day in Boston, but I'm sure their careers moved to different directions after the finished filming. It debuted in the USA in 2018 and somehow I missed it during the Covid homestay. It ended in 2022. Definitely worth checking out if you haven't seen it.

Taking Advantage of Warmer Weather, But Still Aware of the Windier Moments and Walking My Dog with Caution, but also Thinking about Teaching

Perhaps I overdressed. But I really don't think so. It was about 36 degrees when we headed out, but with windchills, I wanted to be prepared. And I was good to go. A great walk with warming air, but it was definitely still chilly. Hopefully I'll be able to delayer soon. 

I am thankful to Drs. Michelle Farrell and Jessica Alicea for taking me out to lunch. We wanted to do tea and biscuits afterwards but arrived two minutes before they closed the door and they wouldn't let us in. Ugh. Good day for tea, too. 

The grading is going slow. Not everyone understands the massive identity shift of moving from students being students to students seeing themselves of designers of curriculum and lesson plans. The work overwhelms them, frustrates them, and gets them feisty, but it is a developmental process to learn the genres of teachers, schools, and states. Their are parts that need to be established in order to get one's licensing, and learning the intricacies (perhaps bureaucracies) is sometimes a big lift, especially when they see how much time and energy it takes to show how one is thinking about lesson plans. It always puts into question, "What do they think educators have been doing with and for them as students all these years?"

There's serenity in the fact that most of my colleagues across the nation understand this development, too, and simply name it as growing pains. I also see it as identity restructuring in the same way that I experienced it while doing my dissertation. How is it I taught for over a decade and never delved in the mountains of articles to reach my students? I just reached them. It's a different way of knowing and seeing the world, and being molded for success is what education is all about. 

Tough love. I'm thankful for all who held the line (and bar) high for me, because it better prepared me for the work I'm doing now...not just as a K-12 educator, but as an academic doing research on teaching and literacy learning. It's all connected and I'm thinking of Kelly who used to tell me often, "If it was easy, everyone would be doing it."

Teaching is hard. Kids deserve those who have content and pedagogical knowledge. It remains an impossible job, but there's good in knowing how others have found their way. No. Stealing from teachers pay teachers, without any original thinking on your part, is not what kids deserve. Yes, there's good stuff out there, but you need to prove what you can do without going to others who have done it before you. 

Fascinating, really. And I go back to my first lessons, which were #@$#, but I had to learn, too....the parts...the purposes...and a base for doing better for kids. 

Purchased the 4th Coffee Machine in the Last 365 Days. It's the Mr. Coffee Glass Pots. They Crack Way Too Easy and Leak All Over the Place

No more Mr. Coffee on Mt. Pleasant. Transitioned to Black & Decker after a year of replacing the pots of the other one. The bottom of the Mr. Coffee carafes kept falling out. And lord knows how much I need coffee before I leave my house. I had to drive to Dunkn' to survive the morning (and I hate Dunkn' coffee). Ah, but a trip to Kohl's, fighting the clearance promotion crowds, an hour in line, and a drive back home, the new pot is now in the kitchen.

Truth be told, Mark in Amagansett and Tunga in Des Moines both utilize the French press. Had I more time to think about a replacement, I might have gone that route, too, but I'm not into the ordering online if I don't have to. I'd rather see and get a feel for something before I buy it. 

The temperatures climbed some, so it was a great afternoon to walk. I hovered around my computer most of the day grading, writing, and planning. I think it is the winter months, because when I don't have to leave my house, I don't want to. I also am completely drained on the weekend, and because there's so much sickness going around, I don't want to rest on weekends to catch up on the restlessness during the week. I ran a Bobby Flay marathon as background noise all day and may have even closed my eyes a couple of times...even with the sun out.

Today's another day and I'm waking up with a cup of coffee in my hand. The grumpiness I felt when I saw another Mr. Coffee pot cracked was put in my clenched teeth as I head to the nearest drive-thru. 

I also learned the Bridgeport Flyer Diner in Milford is shutting down. The place is always packed but the manager is retiring after a long run. This is one of the location Chitunga and I used to stop at for long talks, especially when he was learning to drive. It's also a place we used to gather when no once could make up their mind and we decided, "Diner food it shall be." I remember, too, the time that Jessy and I ate there after running the Vicki Soto...a conversation for the record book. Funny how the place always was therapeutic. I hope someone buys it and keeps the tradition alive. I never was a regular, but I rarely drove by when the parking lot wasn't packed.

Another Year of the MLK Youth Leadership Academy @FairfieldU, With Special Thanks to @StagsWBball, Janelle Brown & Emina Selimović.

Yesterday, I had the honor once again to emcee the MLK Youth Leadership Academy with over 100 middle school students from Bridgeport public and parochial schools. This was the 12th time the committee asked The Connecticut Writing Project to be part of the program. 

Janelle Brown and Emina Selimović, members of the 2024-2025 Fairfield University Women's Basketball Team (and Lucy Katz recipients in 2024 for their leadership on campus with the rest of the team) were the special guests. They shared their literacy journey to get to where they are now, discussed teachers and coaches that made a different in their lives, and articulated skills that helped them to reach their goals.

Each participating student received a copy of We Are Big Time, a graphic novel by Hena Khan, based on a Milwaukee high school girl's team who made a tremendous difference in their community and in the sport. 

As always, Rony Delva of Upward Bound and Yolehema Felican, Director of Student Diversity & Multicultural Affairs shared their own leadership by welcoming students, arranging the day, and organizing the guests. Dr. Don Sawyer, who earned his PhD from Syracuse and participated in Writing Our Lives events there, also brought his expertise. Currently he is the Vice President of Diversity, Inclusion, and Belonging on campus and joined Dr. Sunil Perushotham, Chair of the MLK Committee, to assure the kids were inspired by MLK's legacy and to challenge the next generation of young people to strive towards social justice.

I used Hena Khan's graphic novel, the poetics of Kwame Alexander, the artistry of Jerry Craft, and the novel-writing of Matt de la Peña to get the kids writing and talking at their tables. The day led to an open mic event where they could shared what they composed. Each was given a writer's notebook, as well, and the day was for planting seeds for future writing projects. 

There needs to be a special shout out to the administrators, teachers, and counselors who select student leaders from each school to participate in the program. It is a Fairfield University tradition I cherish. I'm rejuvenated every time they ask me to host.

Janelle Brown and Emina Selimović, though, are phenomenal speakers. Not only did they inspire the crowd, but they also inspire (and respect) one another - it was evident in how they responded to questions. Their presence deserved all the finger snap and applause the kids gave them.

So, here's to yesterday and to another winning season for the Women's Basketball Team. Wishing them the best as they play two more games before the MAAC Tournament in Atlantic City in March. 

Go, Stags! It's always a pleasure to celebrate student athletes who are making a difference in the world.

A Wonderful Surprise in the Mail, Counting My Blessings in a Parking Lot, and Now Off to Work with Over 100 Middle School Kids. Happy Friday

We have an early election for a primary in the State so I stopped to vote quickly on my way to work. I was coming out when I feel this brush against my leg and then an old man screamed at me, gave me the finger, and drove off. I kept walking paying no mind to his bumper stickers, when a man in a truck said, "Sir, you have no idea how close he came to running you over. He swerved at the last minute." 

Eeks. Not a fun way to start the day. 

I made it to work, readied the ground for 100 middle school kids in the Oak Room (thankful to the Women's Basketball team), went to a welcome meeting for education majors, came home to record another episode of The Write Time, and then opened my mail. Kanyea, Courtney, and Malia sent me a note (with updated family photos) and a bracelet Kanyea had made for me while visiting Liberia after Christmas. It's nice and I look forward to wearing it with pride. 

I'll be sliding into this afternoon with bags under my eyes, only to realize that I'll need all weekend to catch up on courses for Monday and Tuesday night. At least the temperatures are heading to the above freezing mark for the next week. That will be mighty helpful in the functionality department. 

I'm excited to know Lys made it back from Iowa safely and Rhiannon & Eric are back in Lake Placid. Travel this week was wonky, for sure. 

Oh, and I donated a whole bunch of books to schools, libraries, and bookstores today, trying to clear off some of my tables and what do I learn? Another shipment is arriving tomorrow. Jeepers. There's no way I can get to them all

But I try. 

Morning Composing with Sunlight & Glowing Support Makes Intellectual Work a Lil' Easier - a Day of Productivity

I worked from home yesterday. I began early, writing, because my brain is fresh and isn't gooey like it gets later in the day from meetings, newsfeeds, and distractions. Usually, when I set out to do this, I also respond to messages sent my way, sharing with others what I'm doing (if they ask) and an image of what this looks like. I don't always notice the items I have around my house, but when the light hits just right, I see things anew, like the two photos to the left of my working chair when I move indoors from the front porch for the winter. My heart grows lighter. 

There has been a pile of must-get-done items accumulating on my to-do list and with an afternoon cancellation yesterday, I found an unexpected period of time to simply get at it. So I did. Reviewing the work of others is always a positive experience, especially when I'm able to offer suggestion to make their projects better. I carry with me my own processes, and share what I've learned from others. We're all in this together. 

Old Mother Hubbard's cupboards are getting bare, but I made what I called a 'drunk drawer' soup with items left in the fridge: beans, chicken, broccoli, and pasta. I wanted the warm broth as the polar plunge is still dipping in the northeast...just a day or two more to go. 

Today, I have to bring materials to the campus office to ready for the MLK Youth Leadership Academy where I am honored to feature members of the women's basketball team for their excellence and advice to young people. It is the 14th time I've been able to host the occasion at Fairfield University. 

Karal hates when I'm out-of-home, but she'll get over it. As long as we get our walk in, all is okay with her (and it was a cold one yesterday). This morning's walk is likely to be the same...colder...so we may not be able to trek as far. Still, I hate the icier days when we cannot walk, so I'm thankful to any and all who shovel their sidewalks. For dog-movers like me, it is a blessing...the small things.

A Card & Succulents Were at My Office Door When I Arrived Yesterday. There Were Also Many Cut-Out Hearts. It's Nice to Feel Welcome Every Once in a While

Big day yesterday. There was the class, but there was also the need to shift items, as CWP-Fairfield lost its 2nd office a couple of years ago. I have books needing to go to schools and more arriving. But I'm at a point where I can barely see my desk. Ah, but there was a new succulent and a card from Dr. Michelle Farrell (note: this wasn't the card...this was the photo I sent as a thank-you). Warm fuzzies are appreciated no matter what time of day they come to you.

We discussed Force of Nature in my Extending Literacy course, one aimed at elementary teachers. I borrowed from Project Wet to do a model lesson and also shared the power of dialogue books. We watched a sequence on watersheds, too, and then began applying knowledge from our own reading. I was thrilled by the first-words the kids came up with as an opening kick-off activity. 

• Time (we have now)(what they had then)
• History
• Poetic Accomplishment
• Dreams
• Connections
• Inspirational
• Inspiring (and sad)
• HOPE
• Captivating
• Wonder at its best
• Transparent (w/o the flag)
• Growth
• Innocence
• Perseverance
• Resilient
• Perspectives (views/angles)
• Life Cycle (the whole sh’bang)
• Ease, but heavy
• Empowering: Do YOU in life.

Next week, the 18 newbies (getting ready for graduate school) turn in their first lesson and, in addition to the parts and time it takes to plan ahead, we've been reading Ann E. Burg's book as an overarching model for working with 3-6th grade classroom. Their certification goes to 5th, but we thought 6th grade teachers might like the book, too. 

One of the areas the students discussed that might be problematic for kids is the amount of loss that Rachel Carson experienced throughout her life, always stepping in and up for her family. I didn't think about this while reading, because I was attuned to nature, its patterns, and the large message. We discussed how the four seasons bring change in the same way life does. We want to prolong and celebrate life, which include the human role in our natural settings, but also need to realize that loss comes with it. It is natural, too. This, they thought, might be heavy for kids to think about...which it may.

I believe teachers have told me 4th grade reading has traditionally been the loss of family pets. Hmmm. I'll need to look into it more. 

Needless to say, the class did phenomenal (especially since it was a Monday Night on a Tuesday Night ordeal). 

I listened to the students as they were talking in their groups through the prompts of a dialogue booklet, and I was thinking about how they, as seniors in college, are also contemplating how quick it goes by and how they no longer are watching the clock like they used to do in K-12 schools. One of the students said, "teaching time and progress would be easier with this book, because it covers childhood, schooling, and lifetime success. It shows the commitment of work in school, as a kid, and where it leads to down the road."

Anyway, back to campus I go. More planning and arranging is needed. 

Let Him Eat Cake! I Got My Birthday Cake on Monday and It Brought All the Good Feels My Way. So Much So, I Baked One for Class Tonight

Normally, I don't bake until the last class of the semester, but I figured, "Cake is joy. Cake is community. Cake is a celebration for the hard work already in the semester." Yesterday, Pam, Leo, and Bev had me over for Pho and dessert, which included my birthday cake. To be honest, the most important part of any event is friends and family. The togetherness matters most. Not much else. 

Although it was freezing outside, and I was thankful that (a) we're not Syracuse right now and (b) the storm predicted for later this week was cancelled, Karal and I attempted a walk. I'm very glad I wrapped my head in an extra thick scarf, although I'm sure I looked ridiculous. I also had an extra day to plan for class tonight, which is Monday's night class, pushed to a Tuesday (later this semester, it's pushed to a Wednesday). Calendars. 

We watched the SNL 50 Years of Music special and I said to Leo, "Phew. I guess you know you're getting older when the documentaries become memories of parts of your life that are no longer." Seriously, the opening set alone was miraculous...the way they fused 50 years of music and shots into a kick-off for the program. Laughter and song. Song and laughter. That is what makes the arts and a community hum...even when controversial, which SNL has hovered the line for years. 

I also finished We Are Big Time, a graphic novel about the all-Muslim girls team in Minneapolis that caught national attention a few years back. I've been meaning to get to it for a while and finally did. Hena Khan crafted a poignant, effective little novel for middle-grade students. Speaking of, on Sunday night I found myself upon Out of My Mind by Sharon Draper as it was turned into a film for Disney. Maybe it is the times threatening us, but the message was felt deeply. I couldn't help but think of many students I've taught over the years and the importance of creating spaces for all kids. If the bar is high, and the love and support is there to match it, kids typically respond in amazing ways. I never was on the Jennifer Aniston/Friends train, but it was a staple for families/college students for many years. I know enough about it to get the cultural reference it is. I did appreciate, however, that Jennifer Aniston played her voice for the movie. It was such a clever move and, although infuriating at times because humans are grossly human, I still respected the story it shared. 

I think the temps stay cold all week and I know I teach later tonight (brrrr. Not looking forward to leaving in the dark yet again, but it will get light again soon. It already is).

I'm looking forward to class tonight, because it's a place to hear from students and to guide them for their next big step toward becoming teachers. With that, I'm off to do what I do....

Mother Nature - 1, Northeast 0. Welcome to Bryan's Birthday Dinner for One (and What I Had in the House - Thankful I Was Semi-Prepared).

I woke up at 6 a.m. thinking ahead to all that might be cherished on my 53rd birthday.  I opened a card from my mother, with photographs of meals she and my dad would enjoy for my birthday (and wondering where she got stickers of local Chinese food plates)(Of note: I have been telling people all I wanted was a photo of a good meal they would enjoy while thinking of me). After the card, I opened Cynde's outdoor frog with lantern, which is solar powered and will be put to use. Casey's holiday photo was put with the Christmas decorations in the basement. 

I spent quite a while going through Facebook posts: tried to balance the joy of love and wishes with the despair being felt by educators nationwide, K-PhD. And I laid on my couch a reread Ann E. Burg's Force of Nature, the poetic fiction about science writer Rachel Carson. As always, I can't help but appreciate the brilliance of her as a writer. Not only can she write, but she does her research so reading through the poems, you're also prompted to look more into history, time, and the world. I found myself watching hours of History Channel documentaries (Yes, I see you Dr. Yohuru Williams - your voice always makes me look up to what I'm reading). I talked to Chitunga for a while (Alyssa luckily got out of Syracuse...I have no idea how), and then I prepped a meal.

I enjoyed several calls throughout the day, just talking about the importance of humanity and togetherness. 

At 5:30, while still light, I decided it might be best to scrape whatever slush was left on the driveway, sidewalks, and back patio to the grass. The back patio was thick with the Snoopy Snow Cone mush. With temperatures dropping drastically tonight, I could only imagine what that would be like if it turned to ice. That would be a huge mess. We're not above freezing again until Friday, but we also have a major snow event coming on Thursday, so we'll see how the week moves again, especially for the MLK Youth Leadership Academy on Friday. 

Around 7 p.m., I made rice, broccoli, green beans, and chicken I stewed in the crockpot. A healthy, well-balanced meal as Chitunga labeled it after I texted him a photo. They were making steak and salad.

I cleaned the dishes, checked more Facebook posts, responded to texts (appreciated them all) and called it a day. The winds also arrived. Phew.

And now, just like that, it's Monday morning. And a work week ahead. 

Onward. 

This is the Dawning of the Age of Aquarius, the Water-bearer, but also an Air Sign. Innovative, Humanitarian, and Forward Thinking

Yes, it's the 16th of February and on the 15th, I had a sinus headache that made me feel sick to my stomach. I slept until 11:30 a.m. as a result. Also, we did made it to a birthday dinner, but the show we were seeing at the Milford Community Theater was cancelled due to the snow and freezing rain. We debated going to dinner, but as I noted to all, "February has always been a fickle month."

Most years, it was winter break for my birthday and, two days after Valentine's Day, I've never come to a full understanding if I'm loving because I'm so close to the day or if I'm bitter because the day for loving is so close to the day of me. It doesn't really matter, because a birthday is a birthday and I know my birthday kin: Paul, Madaya, Ryan, Matt, and John. I've collected kin over the years. It's easy when you teach.

I do like the idea of bringing waters to others and although I assumed fluidity like my Pisces moon, it turns out Aquarians are air signs. I guess this makes sense, too. We share the day with LeVar Barton, Ice-T, Lupe Fiasco, and John McEnroe, after all. Make of that what you will. 

The 16th of February is typically in the stretch of winter weather and it's been this way since I was a kid. It's a day for cherry-chip cupcakes (if you can find the mix) and cherry frosting. That was a tradition my mother began, although the mix is hard to find nowadays. 

I laughed at the Aquarian above because when I got out of the shower this afternoon, I looked nothing like this portrait....even when I tried to flex and look all beefcake and stuff. 

Ah, here's to the day. Here's to a long weekend. Here's 53 years of life. This is my mother and father's celebration as much as it is my own. I got a card in the mail yesterday and I look forward to opening sometime today. In the meantime, a classic favorite (1979). Phew. I was 7.

Dinner with the Kentucky Bridal Party Last Night at Parker's in Shelton. Great to Catch Up & Wish Them a Wonderful Valentine's Day

I was running around town collecting books for an event next week. Met with various writing project partners and got a lot accomplished, so was happy to be invited to an early-birthday dinner at a classic romp, now moved from Trumbull to Shelton. Joanna's daughter is getting married in October, Kate is graduating high school this year, and Tyler is still romping the Murray State region. Crazy story..when Tyler was a senior in high school we arranged a six-week stay at Battalla K-8, where he bonded with a student who was born without sight. This young man, now in high school, has Joanna as a teacher and the kid was talking about this kid who made an impact on him in elementary school and it turned out to be her son. Love "small world stories." Then again, our shared Kentucky story is also small world. 

My house is currently piles and piles of books. They will eventually be delivered into the classrooms of Connecticut teachers but until then they need a place to rest. We have three large events this year, and I'm trying to navigate the libraries as best as I can. Kids win. Teachers win. Diverse authors in school win. Kids love and need the books. Lucky for us, most of the banners and anti-America parental groups aren't in the districts I work with. 

I'm looking forward to gathering with friends tonight to see a show in Milford. We'll do dinner beforehand, too, which is nice, because we are getting another storm over night (after the show will be over). 

The CNY crowd got his yesterday with a foot or more, and snow recovery in Clay was at an all time high. We're definitely feeling February in all directions. 

Today, before shenanigans begin, I'm simply looking forward to writing, reading, organizing, and thinking. It helps that we have an extra day on Monday. 

As for sciatica...I'm telling you. Phew. Okay, God...why do you create the human body in such ways.

It's Friday. Valentine's Day. I Have Never Liked Lobster or Lobster Tail, But I Like Wind-Up Toys. And It's Friday. Love Joy & Playfulness.

I brought a wind-up lobster to a research talk in hopes I could gift it to Dr. Michelle Farrell out of kindness for her unwavering support for faculty research and scholarly excellence. I also had the pleasure of doing a peer observation of a colleague in English, attend a meeting with my department, and record an episode of The Write Time that I can't wait to share with others. 

I have to wait on that, however, as there's a queue ahead and all our shows make me happy. 

I know Syracuse is getting nailed with snow, mom has a cold, Casey is recovering from surgery, and I imagine Cynde is going out of her mind. Loved talking to Mike last night about Dylan's success taking college classes. The kid has always been a historian. Proud he served in the U.S. Army. Respect how he sees the world.

Today, I need to pick up books for an event next week, knowing the snow predictions are rather ominous. We've been here before with the MLK Youth Leadership Academy. But honestly, I'm simply looking forward to this day of catching up, catching a breath, and perhaps pushing away a cold I think I've caught. 

And I didn't cage or catch a lobster. I had him in a bucket of wind-up toys I pull out to make murky days less murky. 

Onward Friday. You are needed. For those who celebrate love...spread it to those who need it most. 

And the Energy Flow Pretty Much Died Out by 6 PM Last Night. I Realized I Have Nothing Left and Need Time to Recharge.

February tends to be rough with University and K-12 programming and responsibilities, and I knew this week called for 14-hour days (hence working all last weekend to prepare ahead), but I didn't anticipate the crash that came last night. I had to pull out of a commitment and simply come home to sleep. Today is a day of many commitments that I can't miss, so I needed to get home to close my eyes. 

Pooped early in a work-week because there's more and more work being put on the workers. 

I've been watching Guilded Age documentaries and reading more about the period of time when the uber-rich exploited recent immigrants from Ireland, Russia, Italy, etc. and how they were willing to work for so little because they were thankful for having a job. But then the work got so exploitive, so workers joined forces to speak up for rights, which brought on unions, etc. We seem to be in a variation of this right now, and I doubt relief will come for K-12 teachers, and I'm baring witness to the unbelievable exploitation of University faculty to fill roles they weren't hired to fill. I guess we're back to a variation of those times. Of course, I'm not doing all this for $5 a week like they did. The economy has changed to give more people opportunities. That's been a nice compromise for a while, but it seems we're back in a place where a class of people want to push the limits on how much they can exploit the worker. I guess the only way around this is to be self-employed.  

Anyway, I don't have to be in a school this morning, but have University/NWP commitments all day until late tonight. I don't normally get tired so feel a little lopsided this morning as I drink my coffee. I'm seeing all still needing to be done and I'm not sure if it is age, a cold coming on, the times we live in, but I feel 100% spent. 

And with that....off I go. 

Participating in Two of My Favorite Days Each Year: Writing Portfolio Assessment for Juniors at Joel Barlow High School

Yes, the 7:30 a.m. arrival time is tricky for those of us who teach graduate classes late at night, but since 2012, I've enjoyed being invited to score the writing of young people at Joel Barlow High School in Redding, Connecticut. After spending over a decade teaching students to compose for portfolio assessment in Kentucky, and actually making a career out of its success and importance, each year in Connecticut I get a glimpse of what young people are capable of when they have a faculty and administration that really digs deep in helping their students succeed as writers across content areas and genres. The district knows its college-success rate, and their graduates achieve in post-secondary institutions because they align young people to think critically about audience, purposes, idea development, genre, style and craft. 

Reading through the 167 portfolios this year is pure joy (brining me back to my Kentucky days of preparing my own students for assessment and working with Jefferson County Public Schools to promote the State of Kentucky's investment in K-12 writing. Of course, that is no longer the case, but it was the writing instruction that drew me to get my Masters in Teaching English in Kentucky in the first place. My thinking has always been, "Why aren't K-12 schools working with writers to prepare them for the thinking they'll need for achieving beyond the classroom?"

Yes, the effects of Covid have brought forth a few setbacks in the writing kids are able to do, but the school system is solid and the vast majority prove that they've been listening to their teachers. It is simply wonderful to read student work again and again and again, especially knowing the teachers it the district are investing in quality and utility up and beyond State and National mandates. 

Each year, I tell the stellar educators they need to turn this work into a book, because it should be the ways that schools get a grip on their writing programs. 

It's simply rejuvenation, hopeful, and promising. This, of course, requires the dedication of teachers, families, and administration being dedicated to what young people need to be successful.

I'm waking up this morning curious about the snow and if Day 2 will go as it was planned, and I also have obligations at the University until way past sunset (once again). I have been telling everyone I'm too old to maintain the K-16 workday, but here I am proving that I can do it once again (with a quick trip home to prompt the dog to go outside between my appointments). 

I'm awaking to check the local news for delays, cancellations, and surprises, hoping all will run as normal as it can because of the 3rd round of storms is coming through. This one is iffy, so as I post...we shall see. 

Question Posed (Challenged) to Kick of Last Night's Literacy Course for Elementary Teachers: Is Doodling Literacy? Why or Why Not?

It was one of those exhausting classes. Why? Well, I taught for an hour, and then I handed out a lesson plan naming the parts of a good hour of teaching (the vocabulary/genre common in teacher education programs and shared for administrative observations). We assume that most teachers know how to create a solid lesson plan, even when we know it would be impossible to construct one for every hour of every day. Early in a teaching career, however, we need to model the framework for teaching in hopes that the best teachers internalize the methodologies and work towards reaching their objectives constructively.

So, I had them draw Kermit the Frog in the opening scene of the Muppet Movie. I knew I had the lyrics of The Rainbow Connection printed out for a reading activity, but before we got there (knowing that field journals / nature notebooks was the larger target), I began the class with a sketch. Knowing that modeling is the best practice, as they drew in their notebooks, I went to the white board. Far from perfect, but definitely detectable as Kermit playing his banjo, no?

The entire evening was a transition of notebooks to scientific field notes for elementary school students. I doubt they'll find music-making frogs unless they are hearing Grannie Annie's in the mood, not tonight, shut-up kids from local lakes and ponds. Next week, they read Ann E. Burg's poetic biography of Rachel Carson and I let them know that elementary teachers need to cover math, language, history, science, physical education, and health all in one day. It's not bad practice to think of literacy across all contents (hence the notebooks, or field journals).

If they are brave, they can get outdoors and sketch a focus on their thinking like I modeled from yesterday's blog, and a time on Walnut Beach in a pair of skis.

I'm also rather downtrodden, because on Sunday, I missed the Run with Refugees 5K in New Haven for the first time since 2012. I paid, had friends sign up, too, but even with the delay, the roads weren't passable to head that way by 12 pm. I had to miss it and I'm seeing pictures and upset with myself (especially in this political climate) not to find a way.  Perhaps my convalescence with The Great Whatever yesterday on the water in snow was part of my healing/forgiving process. 

Human beings deserve the love, support, guidance, and help from fellow human beings. That resonates at my core. 

But of course I went with frogs last night. Rainbow connections. A discussion of dreamers, lovers, and hope. Then we moved to framing Force of Nature for next week class: environmentalism, nature journaling, women in science, advocacy, and literacy. The model text for the semester (and a phenomenal book in Ann E. Burg tradition). 

This morning, I need to leave my house by 6:45 a.m. to be in schools until 2:30 p.m. only to teach until 7 p.m. and return home to sleep before doing it all over again. I knew this week would be bad so I have scheduled visits home to care for the dog. I hate myself when the days are this loaded and I'm feeling my age. It's not healthy to keep such a pace. 

But I keep thinking about doodling. Learning. Being metacognitive about educative lesson plans. Also hoping that teachers choose to teach for a better world, despite the aggravating policing of teaching in the south (with runs the danger of heading to other locations of the United States). So, last night began with doodling and I would say 18/18 did a decent job. I knew the sketched Kermit, even though they whined and acted like, "What is this fool having us do now?"

And I also learned that the ADHD translation in French is TADA. A French teacher told me this and she said, "A Crandall class is always TADA!" I thanked her for sharing this and promised I'd steal it from this point on.

TADA! A Tuesday morning post. 

Taking Advantage of a Wonderful Snowfall in Southern Connecticut - Convening with Long Island Sound & a Pair of Cross Country Skis

“Oh world that shapes our literagies and litanies / May we see you not as a dusty tome/ but as a living invitation to an ongoing conversation… / May we find our own stories within your pages” ~ Cameron Bellm.  

I've been waiting for a good snowfall for a couple of years now, as I've not had much to work with the last couple of winters. I spent much of the weekend working on a project for fusing Jesuit traditions while reading a young adult novel, and so I've had several weeks of digging deep into a mission of being men and women for others. Diversity, equity, inclusivity and justice are at the heart of what such traditions promotes. Although I'm not a religious fellow, I've always been spiritual, choose community over individuality, and hope to work for a common good. I've been thinking a lot about our responsibilities to one another, as well as to the Earth. 

I needed to get outdoors and yesterday's snowfall provided the invitation. I knew I'd wake up sore this morning - it's been a while - and I was glad to work off some calories as I glided across the boardwalk of Silver Sands and Walnut Beach. This is where Connecticut meets the Long Island Sound. I knew, too, that this choice would become a first lesson for reading Ann E. Burg's Force of a Nature, a verse novel about Rachel Carson. We will be looking at field notes tonight and thinking of the ways 4th graders might begin to see themselves as members of a scientific community questioning the world around them.

It was a delicious day and even more delicious was the warm cutlets and homemade macaroni and cheese awaiting me at Pam's (I'm so thankful for her abode so close to the water and the warmth of her fireplace). 

I didn't attend a Super Bowl party, but instead worked on teaching for Monday and Tuesday night because I'll be spending the days in schools and will have little time to organize for evening instruction.

Here's to the week ahead and finding serenity in the madness. I'm so glad I did a self-care romp with my skis while I could.

I'm Guilty of Chotskies, Hoarding Knick-Knacks for Making Meaning of a Short Time with Life and Hoping They Mean Something. I'm a Rat.

Just call me Templeton. I'm the rat in Charlotte's Web and I collect chotskies, trinkets and souvenirs that give me meaning, even if they are most likely meaningless in the end-game. But I am human, and I can't help but collect items given to me as gifts and special, nonetheless. 

I've spent the last few weeks reading deeply in Jesuit traditions, working my way to find a way to make sense of the senseless, and working to use what I know to make sense of the books that I read. Patrick sent me a package of gifts: a candle, new frog paraphernalia, and little trinkets to put a smile on my face as I hold my home as I do. I put them with the my plants, looking to them a few times a day wondering if Grogu will bring us closer to good, the light, and the heartbeat of the Star Wars enterprise. May the force be with us. It's quite easy to be brought to the dark side. 

While walking yesterday, I kept thinking about the chagrin of Luke Skywalker and how Anakin resisted the force and sought redemption of darkness, even being brought training to the good energy. You can't win them all and that is the tragedy of mentoring, teaching, and guiding young Jedis. Phew. It's a burden to carry, and an age-ol' story. There is good and there is evil. Evil is extremely tempting. It goes hand in hand with power. Slytherins, like Orcs, are wrapped in such debate. 

Even so, I've always been attracted to those that advance humanity, a sustainable planet, kindness, empathy, and joy. I've lived enough life to realize how alluring the opposite is...perhaps it is easier. It's definitely an uglier, more toxic path. 

I guess the hardest part for us in 2025 is trying to understand the uglier side of humanity - the desire to crave hardship, cruelty, bitterness, vengeance, and hate. Perhaps it's just human. Perhaps it is just nature. 

Meanwhile, I can't help but look towards sunrises and sunsets, moon cycles, the ways a chrysalis blooms to beautiful life. I think there's a better answer. A more beautiful way of being. An easier way. 

I don't know. I'm looking for those who choose love. I'm looking for those who choose equity, diversity, inclusivity, and possibility. I'm disappointed in those who see the opposite. I can't wrap my head around it, probably because I've spent my life in education. A classroom teacher must do their best to squash the ugly for the benefit for the majority in their spaces. Even so, there are those that embrace the ugly for the benefit of ???. That I don't understand. 

As long as I have life I will question, I will read, and I will seek answers for the unexplainable. Perhaps evil, spelled backwards, is simply the essence to live. Survival of the fittest. Whatever that is supposed to mean. Perhaps an end of humanity is the triumph of nature, that will far surpass any of our time on Earth. In the meantime, we'll have hubris, lies, ugliness, and cruelty. Maybe that is just how some people are designed to be.  

I love / to believe / in hope. That is not a religious statement. It's simply a testament to trying to life a good life, by helping others to do the same. 

A Wonderful Evening with Colleagues Across Campus Celebrating Achievements for Others & Offering Joy in Turbulent Times

I'm keeping my eyes on good...what it means to be good people, good citizens, and more importantly good human beings. I surround myself with people to bust their butts serving communities that are too often overlooked and harassed by others, the one ones scapegoated for the shortcomings of those who lack empathy, historical understanding, and prefer ignorance over enlightenment...laziness over effort.

Last night we celebrated a colleague who achieved a personal goal she's been working on, despite multiple deaths, a divorce, the pressures of higher education, and the rigor it takes to simply survive. She kept her ram horns down and her fox tailed tucked in order to accomplish what few will ever know. She excels with her teaching, her service, and her scholarship.

Centro in Fairfield rarely fails. It is the restaurant I was taken to when I was being courted to come to campus as a relocated, soon-to-be minted Ph.D from Syracuse. Throughout the years, I've watched how others operate, maintain excellence, and used them to guide my own path. It is always wonderful to see when they are recognized by the University, too. It was a much needed celebration.

We have another snow storm on its way and I'm sure most of us will be lying low in our homes. This is why it was good to get out for an evening and to raise glasses to salute the achievement of others. Sometimes The Great Whatever gets it right. 

I'm ready for a couple low-key days to finish writing projects of my own.

Shrimp, fettuccine, lemon, tomatoes, and spinach. I ate it all and it will take me a while to digest such deliciousness. Focusing on good is not a solution, but it's important not to let the opposite blind us from what is most important. I celebrate the good life and those who deserve their round of applause.

Snow Day! That Meant Soup, Grilled Cheese, and an Extra Day to Work on Writing Projects and School Matters. I'm Counting the Blessings

I guess I missed the prediction. I woke up to schools being closes, even the University, and a full day of laptop possibilities. I used it as one of those if only there was another day in the week kind of surprises. There actually was one granted. 

I'm enjoying a project on putting a Jesuit lens on a wonderful YA text I taught last semester, as well as aligning English courses with an educational minor to be achieved in 4-years times (a shift from our five-year program that has not produced the numbers promised for the change). Perhaps working in higher education is a constant shifting of societal demands. The goal is to assist local schools with the ever-growing teacher shortage. We shall see. 

Karal enjoyed the day of shoveling, cuddling, and having me in-house, rather than away-from-home. If I was smarter, I would have loaded the crock pot early for an evening feast, but I got into my writing projects so ended up eating tater tots and samosas. Not the most nutritional meal, but it was filling. 

Now it's another Friday with a weekend storm on the way and another to follow later next week. February seems to always be this way. Maybe we'll get enough snow to actually get my cross country skis down. Yesterday was a total Snoopy Snow Cone deliverance. By the time I got outside, most had melted leaving only a slush fund to be pushed to the side (and it was heavy).

I settled post tater tots to an evening of reading and movie/show meandering. I realize my brain was mud by 7 p.m. and that was all I was good for. There's a weekend ahead, however, so we'll see how much I can accomplish.

Returned to Hill Central K-8 Yesterday in New Haven for World Read Aloud Day and Was Honored to Bring Two Incredible Fairfield University Athletes with Me

There will always be a special place in my heart for the teachers, staff, and students at Hill Central Academy K-8 in New Haven. They serve an incredible population of young people, multiple language learners, and the incredible diversity of New Haven Public Schools. I've never worked with a faculty so dedicated to bringing the best to their kids: books, materials, opportunities, best practices in math and language literacies, and support. It is something to witness. And the kids love it there. They know they have a second home with the school.

I was asked to present to fifth and sixth graders (around 75 students between both session) and knowing I had two Fairfield University softball players, I decided it would be best to play with Kwame Alexander's Coretta Scott King-Award Winning middle-grade novel Black Star. It was easy to ask kids how many fingers fit into a glove. FIVE. How many fingers on a hand that pitches and throws. FIVE. That's ten. They brainstormed ten items they could write about...we used Kwame's brilliance as models (and a little of Jerry's...because, well, the artist thing) and Wola! We had a workshop. 

Also learned from the Principal that she was so excited that the kids were cheering on the workshop during dismissal (it was a 1/2 day) and at parent/teacher conferences. I was told the kids thought it was a hit and now they want to read all the books I highlighted for World Read Aloud Day. 

It's hard for me, an educator, to see the turn against diversity, inclusivity, and equity in all things United States. In the schools I've worked in, and with the teacher force I cherish, this trifecta has been best practice for literacy instruction. We need the books where our students can learn about their histories, their cultures, their livelihoods, and the traditions of the U.S. Constitution (the good, the bad, and the ugly), so we can help future adults to bring forward a better nation and a social responsibility for showing the rest of the world what democracy is truly about.

I am super proud of the two young women who joined me, jumped into the craziness of a Crandall workshop without missing a beat, and who were willing to celebrate their student-athleticism with the young people. 

My heart was filled once again. It is in classroom spaces, working with kids of this nation and their teachers, that I feel the greatest joy...the truest understanding of humanity. It can be beautiful.  

Not pictured in the photo above are the faces of young people desiring to learn, to read, and to write. They were all on board. 

A Second Night at the Walsh Gallery, "To See This Place: Awakening to Our Common Home" -- This Time with Graduate Students Before They Read Ann E. Burg's FLOODED

One of the highlights over the years of teaching at Fairfield University is the special collaborations with the Bellarmine Museum, the Walsh Gallery, and their staff's expertise and vision. CWP-Fairfield and my classes have benefited from their work during Spring, Summer, and Fall semesters, as art often incites a wonderful connection to writing (and visual literacy). Their exhibit, "To See This Place: Awakening to Our Common Home" features three artists and their artistic reaction to climate change. The prompts given to the students, as well as Michelle DiMarzo's discussion, was a perfect way to kick-off Beers & Probst ideas about what a text purports, as well as Rosenblatt's Reader Response Theory. 

As always, I overplayed and got to 1/20th of what I hoped to accomplish, but I still believe in community, sharing, and bringing humans together to discuss ideas. I don't want it to be Bryan on the stage, but rather students staging themselves with their expertise. Sometimes, the conversations are more fruitful than what I had planned anyway. It's just I feel compelled to get the research citations in there so they know that how I go at instruction isn't some sort of whim. 

This morning I'm heading to Hill Central for World Read Aloud Day and to work with 4th and 5th grade classrooms. I only have an hour to give them, and I'm bringing students, so it should be a lot of fun. 

Temperatures have dropped once more and writing projects accumulate, so we'll see where the rest of the day goes forward. I keep saying to myself I can only control the spaces I occupy, the students who I can reach, and the people I love and will continue to love. All of what is happening is alarming, but it was promised, so this is where we are. The votes came in. Now I hope that intellect, law, knowledge, and history fight back. Only time will tell. 

And with that, I'm on the road again.

I Am Thinking of Sunrises and Sunsets, Time, Technology, Work, and Human Routines. It Was a Telling Monday. And so Sunrises and Sunsets are On My Mind

I had a 14-hour day on Monday that was extra-challenging because schools were on a two-hour delay, and so in -school service was delayed, because the communities we serve had different criteria for their day. They were given the first two hours off, so of course they couldn't meet. 

This, however, gave me opportunity to attend on-campus meetings, which I wouldn't be able to attend if I was able to fulfill my community obligations.

The sunrises, and the sunsets. This is the way of the world, and this has proven time and again, it is the way of nature. Predictability. Reliability. A larger rhythm of time than humans can manage. The rouble is, however, that for this period of time we have very human responsibilities to the work we're hired to do. It is what we were trained to do, worked to do, and fought hard to do.

The Walsh Gallery has an exhibit called "To See This Place: Awakening to Our Common Home." The exhibit includes this photo of a sunrise (sunset) and what appears to be a boat on fire. The same hues from the sun, accompany the burning of an apparatus in the water. It's ecological criticism and all the photographs stimulate such thinking. For me, though, it has me wondering about labor, hard work, our responsibilities to climate change, and the human condition. The routines. The hive work. The life of ants. Our innate mechanisms. The canines in our mouth that make us carnivores.

We're in a paradigm shift of what education means, the importance of knowledge, our historical accuracy, and the scientific reasoning traditions of what we know. The times tipped to opinion, personal gripes, and a further exploitation of the many populations that helped us to get to this point. I honestly don't know what comes next, other than the fact that the sun will rise and the sun will set (for my friends and I, it is also the cycles and predictability of the moon). 

Perhaps, nature's use of human beings is simply to see the best ways we can destroy social order.  I'm a home owner, so I know that nature surpasses my humanity all the time (a storm, a flood, an environmental catastrophe). If humans are part of nature, maybe it's natural then for us to simply destroy what generations and generations have built.

 I'll keep wondering and writing. 

I respect art, democracy, intellectual curiosity, and the passing of knowledge to the next generation. With such natural phenomena, I hope sunrises and sunsets bring them progress and a better tomorrow. 

We are, after all, part of the earth's fabric. This too shall pass.

No Matter the State of World Affairs, I Still Cherish Sunday Dinner with Friends and Family: Pot Roast, Potatoes, Carrots, Corn Fritters, and Mr. Leo

I began cooking yesterday early and gathered up a crew of people for accompaniment, so we could start a new week with joy, happiness, and hope. I can only wish such jubilation onto others - the power of love, human togetherness, the GOOD in God, and the wishes for a better world...

...including Mr. Leo's Buddhist pose he sent me from Pamela's bathroom after we all broke bread together. 

The food was delicious, and who knew that carrots would be the root that would absorb all the spices and provide us with the most heat. I love my crockpot, and I need to be smarter about making sure my gas stove which keeps food warm on low, actually is turned off. This is twice now I've come home to see the light flame still ablaze. Not good, Crandall. Not good. 

I did a lot of writing yesterday and took a cold walk with Karal as the last of the meal continued to cook itself in the pot (crocking all the way). I made the mashed potatoes early (and gravy), both of which were really good, too, when heated up later on. Pam's corn fritters (which tasted like my mom's but looked more like a hushpuppy, were absolutely superb). They were sweet without the need of maple syrup. 

This week calls for several 14-hour days and I hope I'm ready. I still find the most joy in teaching and collaborations with K-12 schools, including National Read-In with K-8 students. I am forever impressed by any and all who chose to cherish the young people in their care...the beautiful fabric that makes up a diverse, beautiful nation. This, I pray, is what we fight for and maintain.

I tried to sent a similar photo back to Leo, but only captured myself falling in the shower, unable to figure out the timer thing on my phone. I'm savvy, but not savvy. 

Accompaniment. It is a blessing to have good friends who cherish the company of one another. That is most important. Human beings in celebration of other human beings. This is foremost on my mind as we head into another work week.

Imagining the Complexities of WWII, the Histories, and the Stories Told (or Retold). I Never Thought About Written Communication

My grandpa Spence served in World War II, the Pacific rim, and as kids we would sometimes rummage through the letters he wrote to my grandmother, Annie, often with reference to Rosie (we'd later unravel), which to me was historical referencing. I never thought about letters written to soldiers or from soldiers back to their families. In our rapid, quick, everyone-has-an-opinion world of social media, I was taken back while watching Six Triple Eight on Netflix (happened upon it while trying to quiet my mind) and learned historical trivia I was previously ignorant of...the importance of word-to-heart communication from soldiers on the battle field, morale, and the importance of those living still on the Homefront.

Kerry Washington always amazes me, and I worry much that we're too often drawn to dramatic retellings, rather than documents, so I found myself reading on the knowledge surrounding the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion and what they accomplished in for the United States, those on the frontlines, and the efficiency it took to make the U.S. successful at the time. 

A sixth-month assignment accomplished, despite tremendous obstacles (way to racial - imagine that), in 90 days. Amazing. Admirable. And never presented before my eyes until I happened upon it doom-seeking on a weekend night. I wanted to watch something to get me thinking, and it did.

Major Charity Adams, and the women under her command, should be celebrated in history courses, truth-telling, and the grand narrative of what makes the United States what it was/is/and could be. Remarkable. 

I continue to learn and relearn why history should come first. Primary sources. Evidence. Honesty. Yes, I'm sure the film took dramatic liberty as Hollywood does, but the heart and soul behind the story is, in fact, American history that serves as a reminder that the United States is made of a pluralistic society fighting for democracy, freedom, liberty, and justice for all. 

I ended up in a rabbit hole of history, which I'm sure will continue for a while now. The was no public recognition of the service at their time, but it came years later as historians unraveled more of the story that luckily turned out as it did. Phew. I imagine the hardest part of aging is that I can't learn everything there is to learn. It's simply alarming to me that such knowledge was not presented to me until a happenstance moment. 

Just incredible. 

This Might Be a Premature Metaphor, But I'm Going with It, Because It Feels Right and I'm 100% Good with the Meaning Behind It

I'm feeling 52. I'm feeling more of the 30 years in education, than the age 52, but the feeling is there, nonetheless. A majority of those who finished their Masters in Teaching with me, did their years in Kentucky and have retired. I switched gears to the academic world, so I have many more to go, but I've seen enough in education to feel exhausted (perhaps defeated). I will always be in celebration of kids and teachers, but our systems do everything imaginable to impede their success. Testing...academics like me...disrespect...horrible curricular mandates...administration. It just gets old.

I started my Friday with two writing projects...one with an academic in another state and then with an undergraduate who I have been mentoring. Both inquired at one point at, "How did you get so fast at this writing thing? You just spit it out with your fingers."

My fingers don't spit. I simply quit piano young, but always found a rhythm between my brain and a keyboard piano. I can type fast and think even faster. Writing by hand was always too slow for me. Typing keeps up with the speed in which my mind works. 

Anyway, in both cases, I found myself mentoring and talking about writing processes as well as research connections and realized, "Oh, this is what Kelly Chandler Olcott modeled with me." It's very Vygotskian. Hold the carrot out just enough to keep me moving forward, but not too much to scare me away from the overwhelming nature of writing for research publication. Plan backwards. Have an idea. Chisel here and there when you can. Most importantly, find a shared writing schedule if you're working with others. This is how the Initiative of Literacy in a Digital Age leadership team has operated, too. We section off, go at it, write, and polish one another's work. I'm fascinated at how quickly it comes together (and I'm intimidated, probably in the same way yesterday's writing partners were). I simply wanted to kick things in gear so we can meet the deadlines. This, of course, requires shared time to talk, think, challenge, and move forward.  It's easier when you believe in the content/purpose of what and why you're writing.

This all brought me back to this idea of a torch and handing it off. I entered a teaching profession knowing that society pretty much crapped on educators, but I was in love with (still am) the wonderful relationships with students -- the real learning...the real mentoring...the honest sharing and encouragement that the payoffs supersede the lack of respect and pay. I am realizing, however, that the next generation needs to learn this, as well, in the ways that others took me under their arms. 

My colleague Dr. Michelle Farrell and I have been meeting around the 'now what' question, after both of us were promoted to Full this semester. Seriously, now what? I'm already finding that the first step is sharing and mentoring and guiding and discussing and challenging and pushing a new generation of educational researchers. It all goes by fast and the turn from mentee to mentor happens really quick. 

And you get old in the process. 

So much of enduring requires putting up with the @#$@#. It gets harder each and every year, especially in a field where many operate from insecurities. Politics are gross. Always have been and always will be (I share this with Chitunga...hard work is the answer...keep grinding). Ah, but continuing the hard work when all around you see juggling clowns and carnival barkers, and you begin to wonder, "Now, why am I doing this?"

It always comes back to the students. The respect for students and recognizing who would be doing this if you were to be replaced. Perhaps that's where my narcissism comes in. When students at the Brown used to say to me, "I don't know why you don't leave." I used to say, "I'd be sad for you all." I read a meme that said, "I don't leave because of frustrations. I leave when I learn the lesson I needed." 

I'm not leaving, but I am transitioning to more torch work...lighting the flame for those who are coming next. I've only done 14 years as a professor, another 4 in PhD work (while working in schools), 10 years teaching, and two years doing environmental education. It zips by quickly and I feel the need to lighten up the intensity of 14-hour days 7 days a week, 364 days a year. 

So, the torch metaphor works for now. I'm looking to those who are already carrying possibilities, and sharing the fire there.

Hello, February. I didn't see that coming because January was like torturous slow motion.