Mr. King Carried Very High. The Birth of the Twins Was a Success, Though...Almost Eaten by a Shark, But So It Goes in the Twighlight Zone of a Crandall Script

Yesterday was all about dialogue and this morning is all about student agency and advocacy. We ran our annual script workshop, and it's always a pleasure to try something new. This year, we followed up on last year's mock-wedding of Jess and Will, so that he could be the one who carried the babies. Of course, all the kids think two of my graduate students are siblings (twins) and so the punchline was that Will gave birth to them. There needs to be something to drive the plot. In truth, we simply want to give every kid a role, so they can speak loudly as part of a performance. I'm excited, too, that my Creole, Portuguese, Spanish, and Dari translations (and lines) worked. It's so beautiful for all of us to hear the cacophony of languages. 

Eve was supposed to be a nurse that delivered the twins, but all the stethoscopes disappeared so I had to make her a wizarding midwife....hence the wand. Not sure how it is Mr. King but the kids up so high on his chest. Definitely hadn't dropped yet. 

I know the temperatures are dropped this morning, but I grew up where incredible storms came through to make such a change happen. The bad boys split above us and below us, not evening bringing rain. They looked intense, but we didn't get to experience any of them. Ah, but we have livable temperatures for the upcoming week (which will be nice). 

Definitely have missed Abu's presence this summer, especially on the Homefront to keep me focused and non-resentful. He has eyes that see all that is going on, and always reminded me that our programs are sort of miraculous. This year, I've had to step up more on numerous occasions...not only for my programs but to fill in for classes at Bellarmine. I love the ability to give, but it's been over the top this year...hard to direct, organize, assist, coach, mentor, guide, and work with University bureaucracy when I'm in charge and on the spot six hours straight each day.

But there are only two more days left. I've been singing this in my head all morning: Two more days. Two more days. 

At least I'm not fasting this year (although I think another fast would be good for me).

Hey, look at that. July is already over. 

Fusing Generations (and Langauges) with @CWPFarfield @FairfieldU. Ten Years Later the Stories Keep Telling Themselves (and in this case, Making Alumni)

You know you're Crandall when you leave one teaching space to be a special guest in another teaching space, recording video to be part of the teaching space you're leaving, so the learning continue to go on and on and on. I wanted to post the picture sent to me from the parent... "Dear Dr. Crandall." It tells a decade story of how a young woman came through our writing camps and 10 years later returned to Fairfield University to do her MFA in Creative Writing. I love that story.

I love that returned from her advanced degree...to the very location where her pen first started hitting the paper. Congratulations, Madeline Nigro. Phew. I'm so amazed!

Yesterday, I had fun bringing Ubuntu Academy together with freshmen enrolled in the Bellarmine College Associate Degree program. One group was working on college essays and the other was working on Identify Self-Portrait pieces for their English class. A workshop on photographs, counting on ten fingers, and using the good ol' five sentence had around 40 kids who didn't know each other writing silently for over an hour. Max and I simply had to go around and prompt kids when they were stuck. Total joy. 

Today, it's my annual Script-Writing activity with Ubuntu Academy, and last year we did a preliminary wedding between Mr. King and Ms. Baldizon (before I officially married them in August). This year, Mr. King will be delivering twins...he's doing the labor of Ms. Baldizon (now Mrs. King). This may have been the funniest script I've yet to write and, yes, it is translingual, representing the five languages spoken by young people in the program to learn English. 

I also ordered a surprise for Friday, which I'm also excited about. King and I were talking about what we might do, and he always said, "We've never made bracelets." Well, here we go. More items Crandall never thought he'd be putting on his credit card...

...but when it comes to the joy of our summer programs...I simply can't help myself. 

Another Great Day of Translanguaging Support and Joy with Ubuntu Academy. Bring on the College Essay, Poetry, and Graphic Novels

And with that, a Monday was completed (4 more days). We read much more of Dragon Hoops, we danced with Dr. Michelle Farrell, we edited sentences, and we moved into writing groups for the College Essay, Graphic Novels, and Poetry (clubs within an academy) model. 

Phew. It was hot, too. They weren't kidding about the rising temperatures. 

Today, I'm teaching two classes for Bellarmine students also on campus, so the Ubuntu will be riding solo with Mr. King, Max, Emmi, and Eva. Hoping it all goes well (although I'll bring Ubuntu kids with me to the Bellarmine classes in the afternoon). 

I haven't checked the weather, but I believe it's another scorcher today. I know when I walked Karal, I was drenched. We only went a mile and a half and I said, "Nope. This is too hard on the both of us." So, home we returned...for water."

Believe it or not, I did make pasta last night. I wanted something different and have gone quite a while without anything pasta-oriented. I put together a sausage, tomato, parmesan dish. It was good. I ate a bowl too many, but did so hoping I'd get a good night sleep. 

Okay, Tuesday. time to head back out in the sweat bowl. 

Oh, and I received the greatest email. A mother sent me a photo of her daughter who attended our programs in 2014, 2015, and 2016. This young woman graduated with an MFA in Creative Writing and her mom wanted me to know that it all began with out programs for middle school kids. Wow. I love to see that happen. Sort of made my day. 

And with that...I really do need to leave.

A Quick Sunday Romp with Michelle & Beth on the Humid Paths of Walnut Beach. Otherwise, a Go-Go-Go Preparation for Last Week of Summer Programs

Newsflash: Saturday night burgers call for overnight intestinal pain in your 50s. Note to self - take warning. 

I slept until 7 a.m., got up, hit submit on another project, edited a third, and still did a happy dance that Max Limric and I sent his piece for consideration on Saturday. My intent is to finish this week, be ram horns down next week, and then to take off in any direction possible, simply to avoid laboring before the new semester begins. Actually, that's what I also started yesterday...fall syllabi.

Around 3, Beth texted that she and Michelle were walking Walnut Beach and wondered if I wanted to join them. I was planning on doing the Sunday Gazebo concert there anyway, so said, "Sure." Although I did't eat with them, I did walk with them to the Greek Spot where they got their dinner. I had such a great pesto Cesar salad with chicken for lunch and I wasn't in the mood to eat anything else. And although it was under 80 degrees, the dew point and humidity made me feel like I was wading through a swamp. Sadly, we have heat indexes in the 100s the next couple of days.

We're writing indoors, kids! No need to venture outside.

We're also finishing the last week of Ubuntu Academy and will be heading towards publication land with POW for the next month (which I'll be editing while on my supposed time off, of sorts). 

I'm simply hoping to have raft, kayak, and paddle board time the first week of August. I want to float without a care in the world which isn't possible, but I can try.

Here's to the last week of July, 2025. Another round of literacy labs and teachers institute are adding the final touches.

Obligatory Night Off Post. Woodmont Beach Days with Friends. Bourbon, Rum, Friendship, and Lots of Excitable Kids

It's sort of funny seeing Patrick, Stephanie, Kaitlyn and Dominik rolling up with their baby mobiles. Although well-intended, and ready to retreat to their party days of the 20s and early 30s, there are not little ones, toddlers, and screamers needing all the attention. It's also exhausting and I can feel it in their eyes and demeanors. Even so, we got an afternoon in Woodmont, followed by the concert on the water which was crowded and lacking dinner options. They stayed, but we left early.

I did get a good photo of Patrick, though, and many of the kids, but we'll have them for later.

Saturday was a good morning to write, edit, organize, and think, as well as get a solid walk in with Karal. We now know today will be a rainy day, so I imagine there will be more of the same....on the couch computer tapping for the majority of the day.

The concert was actually the first day I've been on the beach all summer. It's been too hot, too buggy, and too busy to make time for downtime in the sand. We tried last night, but Pam's puppy called and, as I told her, "I'm at the age where I can say park me on a bench somewhere where I can put my feet out. Swing by to get me when you're ready to leave. You kids have fun." 

I'm too tired for the weekend commotion. It was a good day, though, and the concert really was good, as well as the company and beach snacks. The extra exhaustion of parents with toddlers and newborns is easily felt...you just want to give them a sauna to sit in without any of the noise. We try to subdue some of the insanity, but the kids always want their parents in the end. It's pretty wild.

Here's to the rain today. I hope we get a good soaking. It's been dry, dry, dry.

Ended Week One of Ubuntu Academy, Engineering Human Togetherness, and Was Super Impressed by the Collaborative, Community Art Piece that Resulted

I think the more particular individuals try to divide the world and separate human beings from one one another, the more important it is to remind ourselves we're in this together. Plant more trees...butterfly and hummingbird gardens, clean up the streets, and love thy neighbors. You know, the R E S P E C T part of being good citizens of the world. We are up to 32 English language learners in CWP's summer programs and we culminated the week by reading by reading I Am Human by Susan Verde, thinking about collage as a collaborative art form and breaking into teams of 7 to see where we'd take our thinking.

The rules: (1) each of you are given a bag of art supplies, (2) you must use the pink yarn, (3) you must contribute one poem, (4) your collaboration must have on drawing from the group, and (5) You need to respond to the following question visually: What does it mean to be a human being?

We broke the kids into five rooms, let them play music and said they had an hour to create. This hour, however, turned into two hours because the students were so into the task. We brought in magazines, glue, scissors, etc, and told them stickers, markers, and other scrapbooking material was fair game.

Each room had a shape (which was really a letter) and only a couple guessed what it was going to spell. I worked in room five, and I was totally impressed by how quickly our crew divided tasks, gave one another responsibilities and high-fived over efficiency and creativity. I also took the room with English language learners who also have special needs in the classroom. 6 of them to teach me what they wanted to do (we were the letter "A". 

Three of the five reported similar succinctness and, quickly, finished the task swiftly. Two groups needed longer: one, because they were being extremely detailed with their collaging, and the other, because their were many captains on the same ship and, as a room of task maskers, couldn't quite compromise. There were many debates and flights on how to best make their shape/letter. In the end, however, I was totally surprised by the quality of the each letter that came together to spell: H U M A N.

As a visual literacy project of young people, many in the country with less than one year of English instruction, this is what they created when prompted. I was impressed, too, that all the groups chose to outline their letter with the pink yard they were provided, which solidified the theme for the week. 

We also did an activity today, where every student had to read a children's book to find the humanity in the story. We wanted the kids to begin abstracting from text and visualization to justify the arguments they had for what their books were about. Overall, this has been a stupendous week and simply inspirational on all levels. The teachers have said, "Can you imagine if we had this freedom to do such work in our schools?" 

I simply say, "You have the freedom. You have to make it happen for kids." 

Outside of the box thinking for over 30 years. Do what's best by them and all else will follow. 

Finding Absolute Pride in the Ongoing Trajectory, and Watching Young People Find Their Way into the Word in Wonderful Ways

Wow. It's the 2nd to last Friday, and yesterday was out of this world wonderful: (1) a workshop on graphic novels, (2) a romp with the School of Engineering research students (which included several members of the Ubuntu Academy from previous years, (3) and another round of language proficiency and practice. When I reflect on it all, it's almost hard to believe all that is accomplished in one week. 

Johan and Ana have been with CWP for two years, and it was exciting to see their work with the School of Engineering yesterday and their research projects with Fairfield University graduate and undergraduate students. They both expressed how excited they are to know it is over, because they want to return to the the Ubuntu family and get back to their creative minds and writing. Still, I'm proud of them for the scientific, mathematical angles of their brains that have endured the first part of July. They will definitely be leaders in the week still to come. 

Amazing to see these two entering their senior year and growing so much from their times in Ubuntu Academy into to the work they're doing with the School of Engineering. Looking forward to their return this week as we fold them back into Ubuntu Academy (and we have William King to thanks for the all the connections).

Yes, it's Friday. I am Fried-day, and this day can't end soon enough. Still, It's been four weeks of teacher program, three weeks of youth programming, and there's only one week left. 

The National Writing Project way continues to be the best way. 

The road to success is not as hard as we make it for our K-12 youth, especially those who come from obstacles that are traditionally in the way. We simply need to model ingenuity and innovation. 

Bump. Set. AND Hit Them with the Hammer. Thankful to Nancy Somera of @StagsVB Fame. Champion Coach & Wonderful Campus Leader

I love volleyball. I love the game, the action, the intensity, but more importantly the dedication of being not only awesome in the classroom, but also on the court. For two years, I've been in discussion with Coach Nancy Somera as a faculty liaison and this summer we collaborated to have her talk about athletics, perseverance, and setting goals in sport and school. Yesterday, Coach spoke with participants in Ubuntu Academy, the Connecticut Writing Project's summer literacy program for language learners.

The morning started with a workshop on listening and listing - the power of writing informatively and teaching others. The students participated in a beach ball activity to learn the skills one needs to play volleyball and then we watched a couple of intense matches. The kids listed areas they were good at and were instructed to offer others bulleted points of what they would need to be successful. 

Coach Somera did the same: (1) You have to make the effort, (2) You have to have a positive attitude, (3) you have to connect with teammates, including a smile, (4) You have to be ready to rebound, (5) you have to listen, and finally (5) You have to compete for the win. She is on campus this week running a volleyball camp with some of her players, part of the tradition of Fairfield University opening campus to summer programs for young people. The collaboration simply made sense. 

Students also read Kwame Alexander's "Rules for Basketball" from The Crossover, and are setting out to draft their own "Rule" poems after a day of team-building, writing workshops, reading, and visit with the athletic super woman (as superheroes are also a theme we're working on today). 

Always happy to have community-engaged opportunities with others on campus, including the leaders of our athletic department. All of us together. We are who were are as the result of accompanying others. This is one of the greatest aspects of being at a Jesuit campus. Here's to coach, her players, and the young people who were mentored through this opportunity.

Heading to the 3rd Day of Translanguaging Bliss in Ubuntu Academy. I Continue to Be Amazed by the Daily Growth & Joy

Mr. King is a genius with English as Additional Language Learners. Couple that with the expertise of two teacher-leaders helping out, and four graduate students in literacy, and we have a room full of brilliance...one on one assistance, energetic and fun language games, and tremendous support for all the kids. The helping hands is an idea situation and I wish such support could be offered within all classrooms  in all schools (makes me wonder how often high schools pair seniors who are American-born with EAL teachers throughout the year...could be a phenomenal internship). 

Yesterday, we did field journaling, nature writing, and a morning of poetics: shapes, haikus, and word play. Then King did this game of stomp clap pen which resulted in words being written on the board, then students having to make associations with them. It was interactive, fun, challenging, and hysterical. They enjoyed it tremendously. Of course, teaching in one of the spaceship rooms in DSB is equally as wonderful. It's just good space for interactive teaching. 

New this year, too, is having my English Education students with me, so I can give them opportunities to teach with me in the space before they go out into schools. This way I can catch things early, like overly worded instruction, a lack of visuals, eye contact, and pacing...it's the little things.

I-95 has been a bear, so I'd better hit the traffic. Off I go again. These are the happy days. The work that really matters.

Leaping into Absolute Joy Over These Next Two Weeks. Co-Teaching with One of the Best. Investing in the Young People We Love, & doing the Right Thing

Ubuntu Academy is now over a decade old. We began it several years ago, when Bridgeport Public Schools began to receive more African-born refugee youth in their schools. Having that background, it made sense to include them in the renovations I made at a National Writing Project site. Of course, William King and Jessica Baldizon were my graduate students who earned a degree in Teaching English to Students of Other Languages. The NWP ways was in them from the start. As we reflected this morning, so many of our kids have gone on to college, chosen success in their lives, and continue to model the best of the United States.

This year, our young people are from Brazil, Haiti, Equador, and Afghanistan. It is interesting where the populations arrive from each year and it still disgusts me to see how misrepresented migrating populations are across the country. 30+ years of working with relocated youth and all I've experienced is excellence. 

A woman came to pick up the Afghani girls this afternoon and quickly started speaking Dari. I asked if she was related and she said, "No, my husband and I came 40 years ago and were educated by the best schools the country has to offer. We both became physicians and retired a few years ago. We looked at each other and thought, What should we do in retirement to pay back all the greatness they received from the country they love?" They found IRIS in New Haven, began volunteering with families first arriving to the U.S. and now mentor adults and children as they find their groove. "They're just so smart and dedicated."

This is what I found and something I full heartedly believe. My grad students, too, already remarked how different the kids are than American-born kids. They're curious, thankful, brave, and funny. They come to learn and not play games. Ironically, they're put into American schools where the kids act like brats, disrespected adults, and have the backing of their parents." 

I'm not sure where the anti-immigrant hatred and vitriol come from as all the communities I've ever known have found the families to be thirsty for a wonderful life and incredible contributors to the fabric of the nation. The only ugly, I've found, has been in the hearts of the nastier side of our nation. It's bizarre, really, to see the sentiments they weave with their narratives. Of course there are bad eggs from time to time, but watch the evening news. Our own people commit heinous crimes that shock me on the daily. 

All I know is that we challenged the kids to stake a step forward in their learning and that we are here for them when they're ready to LEAP. This is what Mr. King modeled. This is what our program models. This is what I love with all my heart. When Lopez Lomong carried the American Flag at the Beijing Olympics, I had tremendous pride for our country. That is the nation I believe in...the one with super diversity, a strong work ethic, and tremendous respect for democracy. That is not what this nation is today.

It's perplexing and sad.

It's Time for Ubuntu Academy, My Favorite Two Weeks of the Year. Ah, But First, a 2007 Notebook Find in One of My Journals that is Somewhat Timely

I sort of had a weekend on Saturday. I mean, I got an oil change (they didn't charge me, because it took 30-minutes longer than their promise), did the Wegman's thing, walked the dog, spent three hours mowing and landscaping (because the humidity broke for a day), and settled down for the night. Yesterday, however, was a 14-hour day of getting things ready for the two weeks ahead. Actually, I also finished the final video's for last week's Young Adult Literacy Labs, sent the survey, and picked up 40 copies of Gene Luen Yang's Dragon Hoops for the writers this week.

But the heat returned. It was miserable as I shopped for snacks, worked on my porch, edited a journal article, and got cramps from working all day. I believe today the heat is to subside again.

I do hate the 14-hours on the brain, though...the nonstop next, next, next, next simply reminds me of the every reality of teaching high school in Kentucky. There were never any breaks and always another demand.

Oh, I also got long overdue recommendations completed for teachers looking for new jobs.

Anyway, I found this doodle from 2007 and was thinking about the importance of self-awareness as today it is one of the skills we'll be highlighting over the next two weeks.

It's day one of another new week so I'd better hit the road. Much needs to be accomplished before the buses arrive with kids. 

Two Central New York Transplants Set Out to Be an Official Welcoming Committee for Norwalk @Wegmans Employees 4 Days Before Its Opening

Justine was shaking everyone's hands. "You're going to love this when it opens," she told everyone and, at the mall where we followed with lunch, she made announcements at the restaurant. Since 2011, when we met, we bonded with our nostalgia of Wegmans and our thrills when returning to CNY to visit family. A Rochester native, she graduated the same year as this Syracuse guy. 

I was on campus a day when I met Justine and the first thing out of my mouth was, "Where do people shop?" I was told the pickings were slim and, although amused, that Stu Leonards was the closest thing. I eventually settled into Stratford and found semi-comfort in Big Y (hell of a lot better than Krogers in Kentucky and Publix in Florida). Still, I longed for Wegmans and so did she. We've had a 15 year text exchange of sharing Wegmans stories over the years and we always said we'd be the biggest cheerleaders if a store ever came to Connecticut. 

Her husband thought we were crazy. We've known about the Norwalk opening for over a year and have had a countdown (the debut is this Wednesday). Still, knowing our enthusiasm for the store she convinced me we had to get there for a selfie before the crowds come. It's been several years since we were face to face and, if you know me, I'm terrible with commitments and getting out. She was sure I'd bale, but yesterday morning I was like, "Are you kidding me? This is exactly what I live for. I love beauty in life!"

We made a video narrating our arrival and then goo'd and ga'd that it had a parking garage, two floors, and an outdoor bottle return. Employees were coming in and out from their setting-up shifts and we shook their hands.

Don't mind us. Just a couple of dorks bonding once again over a joy of the store. I think we'd both welcome a statewide takeover. 

Par for the course, when the two gentlemen from the deli introduced themselves we let them know the store has done it again: friendly, kind, neighborly, and proud of the work they're doing. 

Justine has already arranged for her husband to take her there are the 6 a.m. opening, whereas I knew the only glimpse I could get of the store was over the weekend. I'll let the hype die down some before doing field trips with friends from Stratford. Besides, all the goods I love from the store are stocked in my cupboards...I'm good for a month or so, as I often replenish while at home with my parents.

All of this is to say, "Welcome to Connecticut, Wegmans." Justine and I both joked that they should invite us in at customer greeters.

And by the way, that isn't a painting or a mural behind Justine and the Deli Dudes. That was the actual sky yesterday in Connecticut...a beautiful day. 

Here's to roast-beef sub I'll be ordering as soon as I get there!

And That Ends the Weeks with the Youngest Writers (Yes, I Was Fed to the Sharks). We Continue Next Week with Ubuntu Academy &. a Different 2-Week Feel

I couldn't believe I made it past 5 pm last night. I was sure I'd pass out by that time, as the week wrapped me upside the head. Yet, when the humidity broke, it turned into a really great day and I thought it would be dump to waste it. We cleaned up shop, readied for next week and took off. 

Two weeks of 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade, coupled with 6th-11th grade, mades for a fascinating time, especially when balancing teaching, organizing, arranging, helping, mentoring, reading, editing, and revising. We have a strong team and so it all goes smoothly. As soon as one get tired, the other jumps in. 

Best joke of the week? What did the sushi roll say to the bumble bee? Wasabi!

That cracked me up so much that I had to call multiple people to tell them. 

We made it to the promenades, recordings, final videos, and reading. We also had an ice-cream social of our own, which was delicious. Oreo ice-cream cones? Please.

I have oil changes this morning, my lawn need morning, and I seriously just want to sit around being stupid. These weeks of summer programs simply remind me how awesome and hardworking K-12 educators are each and every day. They sprint around the globe 15 times before an academic gets out of bed. All love and joy for teachers. 

We threw in last minute shape poems at the last minute and they were a hit. Some of the kids created five or six of them. I didn't expect them to take off as they did, because it was a 30-minute filler while some of the kids were sill recording their scripts and revising their pieces of POW! Power of Words. 

I am extremely thankful for two weeks of smooth sailing (except the 8 phone/computer chargers left behind). Today's educators have even more to clean up after, when absent-minded kids are given even more to be responsible for. It is something. 

Here's to two days off. 

Hosted a Total Alien Invasion of the Novelist Yesterday as the Little Labbers Hosted a Spaceship Fiesta with Finger Lazer Lights

Lois what right. I spend so much money on simply being silly. I knew that Thermosphere Thursday was going to go beyond northern lights into outer space so we could enjoy communicating with other beings. I found these cool lasers to put on your fingers that I thought shot out beams...nope...in the dark, they actually shout out alien images, rockets, planets, and galaxies. How could we not impede on the writing of the novelists to share our joy? How could we not have several 30-second dance parties to energize their afternoon? 

Today ends week 3 of CWP-Summer programs, and the completion of working with our youngest writers. We move to Ubuntu Academy for the next two weeks and have changing goals with language, building confidence, and establishing literacy leadership in high school students.

Still, today is the day of promenades, finishing video productions, and polishing writing for publication this Fall. As I was writing to National Writing Project colleagues across the United States last night (especially those in States banning books, tearing apart curriculum, and destroying teacher expertise), I couldn't imagine working in a location that saw literacy excellence, student joy, diverse texts, and democratic thinking as purposeful, useful, and solidly necessary for the future. My soul would be destroyed to work in such environments, and yet that is what is happening all over the country. 

As long as I have kids to teach, the Brown School way will stay with me. The National Writing Project is now in my DNA. Listen to teachers. They know what they are doing.

There needs to be a massive overhaul of politicians who destroy the future of such beautiful children.

Not Such a Stupid Gift After All: Knowing Writing Alongside Students is Good Practice (& Writing for Elementary-aged Kids Is a Wee Bit Harder)

 

          We all know that as soon as you give a room full of 20+ elementary students the least big of wiggle room, they go insane. So, we decided to challenge them with an afternoon turning point essay...to tell a story about a lesson they learned in life, and how it made them realize they are a little older. This past week, the more we have modeled our own writing with kids (usually on the spot so they read as we compose) the better. 
         It's been a minute since I've written for this age group and I remember in KY, when I brought my writing from 5th grade to the teachers I worked with, they said, "Crandall, this is not what normal 5th graders could do." I saved all my writing from Mr. Finster's class.
        Working with the kids this week helps me to see this. For many, getting a sentence onto the page is difficult. Being able to read that sentence is even harder. When you ask them to read it to you, they go on and on as if they are reading several pages. It's in their head, but they don't know how to get it to paper (and it's probably because it takes work). I think this is why I always reflect on Mr. Finster's class as the one in my K-12 experience that made the biggest difference. He had high standards and he loved his students.
        I continue to hope the same for my own classrooms. 

Not Such a Stupid Gift After All
In fifth grade, I learn to bite my bottom lip. I think this is what you’re supposed to when you’re acting like you’re a better person than you really are. In 4^th grade, we learned about pilgrims and practiced are cursive handwriting, but by 5^th grade it was the last year of elementary school. Next year would be middle school and kids in my class were already becoming punks.
         I’ve always been a good student. I entered kindergarten reading because Big Bird and Sesame Street taught me how. By 1^st grade I read as a 5^th grader, so school was kind of easy. But in 5^th grade, I had Mr. Finster. He was a hard teacher. He challenged us, especially with his mathematical torture chamber. He was also in a wheelchair because he had multiple sclerosis. During torture time, he challenged all of us to stand by ourselves as he shouted out times table questions: 4 x 9, 3x3, 2 x10, and he would go faster, and faster, and faster. If you got one wrong, he drove his wheelchair into your shins. If you go it right, he backed up. I was the 1^st 5^th grader to succeed in his torture chamber that year and he rolled over to me and hugged my hips to congratulate me. Because of his illness, he also has little control of his smile, so when he did, sometimes drool would come from the corner of his mouth. I guess I am proud that I made him drip spit because I passed the chamber.
         Mr. Finster also made us turn in a new piece of writing every Friday. In fact, he gave us the challenge of writing about how to drive a teacher crazy in 24-hours or less. I thought that was fun. The local library was having a contest for the best essay, so I decided I’d take the one I wrote about putting tacks on Mr. Finster’s wheelchair into the mix. I didn’t win, though. Why? Because my neighbor Michelle had a panic attack about writing an essay, so my mom made me help her. She read my essay and copied it. She won the contest, and I was so mad.
         Actually, I was mad at Andy and Carmen, too. We were 5^th graders and every year, the 5^th grade class got the best parts in the holiday concert. I wanted a solo and I did my best to sing better than everyone else. Andy got it. Being a good sport, I decided it was okay and I’d try out to play Frosty the Snowman. I was good at being pudgy, so why not be pudgy in all white. I danced and danced and thought I was better than everyone else. Nope. Carmen was. 
         I was fine with it. I was still in the back-up chorus. 
         It was weird, though. A week after the concert before we got out of school for the break, Ms. Shakow, the music teacher, asked me to come buy my room. I thought I was in trouble, but she wanted me to have a gift. I opened it and it was a singing angel boy with a candle (the candle was broken, and I imagined she was recycling some junky gift someone gave her). I thought it was nice, though. She said something about how I deserved this gift angel, being that Andy’s mom was another 5^th grade teacher at the school like Mr. Finster, and Carmen’s mom was a building substitute who covered her classes for a while. An angel. 
         Many years later, when I became a teacher, I thought about that gift…not only the one given to me by Mr. Finster because he made his class difficult and, as a result, challenged me, but because of Ms. Shakow and that angel candle. I always thought it was a weird gift that came out of nowhere, but as I got older, I realized she gave me a bigger lesson on how the world sometimes works. Teachers have to be many things to many people, and what goes down in any moment might not be the whole picture. 
         I’m glad I bit my lip. I think that is why the angel came to me. 
 

We All Have Them...Teachers That Is. Stories of Moments When, Well, You Have to Act on Your Feet and Then Do Damage Control... Oh, Whale...Another Day.

In which I share an email I actually sent to parents last night just to be safe. You never know.

Good Evening,

I write as I process week 3 of summer programs and day two of Little Labs for Big Imaginations. This is my 30th year working with kids (phew) and from time to time something happens and I think, “Hmmm. I probably should send a brief note.”

Today we focused on a pun, “Water we Sea-ing” (What are we seeing?) and did several exercises with ocean themes, including the way whales feed in groups through a process of bubbles and baleen. They blow bubbles to get fish to circulate in schools and then rise to the surface with their mouths open taking in as much as they can before going under the water to digest. We noted that kayaks, on occasion, have been taken in during a feeding but the throats are too small and they quickly get spit out. We showed a video of this to show why, and then, upon request, kids wanted to see another (which I didn’t preview). In this video…a woman filming her friends on their kayak expressed words while she was filming. You heard the woman saying shoot…shoot…shoot…and then the double oo’s were replaced with an “I”, a word not appropriate for class.

I made it a teachable moment, as several birds were flying over the scene, too, and I asked them why birds would be at the scene. “Because they want the fish. They’re also hungry.” Correct. We asked why kayakers would want to watch whales feeding and they said because it was interesting. I then asked them to describe the sounds the birds made to communicate with each other (which they made, too) and finished with, “Sometimes when big people are startled, they use words to express their surprise and they don’t monitor their best behavior.” Birds and humans both make noise to communicate.

I tried to subdue it as quick as possible and was able to keep the stories of other incidents the kids wanted to share where adults in their lives slipped with bad language. Many hands were up and they were anxious to share….but we moved on (and I wiped sweat from my brow).

I write this note, however, simply because in 30 years of teaching, this was a first with elementary-aged kids. I have PLENTY of high school stories I could share, but I’ll save them for when you have high schoolers in your home. I write with an apology in case this “story” made it on the trip home after you asked, “What interesting thing happened at camp today?” I never know how such narratives leave a classroom space or find their way to the dinner table and to parental ears. 

If it comes up in conversation, please let the little lab folks know that Dr. Crandall shared a note about the bad word expressed by a filmmaker at the end of the whale-feeding video. If this email piqued your interest, there are videos of the phenomenon and I promise most don’t have the colorful word at the end. It is interesting, really. Nature. The bubbling process. Our species filming whales feeding. 

What a curious world.

Bryan

Earth Is Our Home. So, We're Engineering Land, Air, & Sea, For a Better World Tomorrow...Well the Little Labbers Are, Anyways.

I've jumped into the helm for another year of Little Lab for Big Imaginations, and after a wonderful week of Engineering Human Togetherness, we're going a little PSA (public service announcement)(thanks, Dr. Jessica Singer Early) for the 2nd week. Yesterday, day one, we worked on land by reading Matt de la Peña's Home, writing details about our own home, and creating nature replicas from found greenery and twigs on a nature hike around Bellarmine Pond. 

Naturally, I went frog-ish. Liked the way the little guy turned out.

We didn't write about our creations, but if we did, I'm sure the words would have leaped across the page. 

The programs continue to be robust and the energy of youth is contagious, if not exhausting. I was amazed by the creativity (and imaginations) exhibited by the youngest writers) and today we're moving to scripting the dialogue that can come from the minds that our tapped for magic.

In the other room, 40 middle and secondary students are plotting week two of their novels and I'm super excited by the brilliance they once again are bringing to our Connecticut Writing Project programs. 

Yes, we're all exhausted, but we love every second of the mentoring we get to provide. We're captivated for sure. But it's time to hit the traffic. Onward.

And We're Relieved. Not the Same Horrible Sleep from Saturday Night. Phew. Glad That Was Short Lived.

I have no idea what set me off at 4 a.m. in the morning, but I had shooting pain from my lower back, so much that it startled me away and I jumped out of bed. It didn't let up for over an hour and it was so painful that I was also drenched. In the back of my fly head I was thinking, "Oh, shit. I might need to go into a hospital." Immediately following I thought, "Oh, shit. Who the #$@#$ would take over all the work that I do if I wasn't there to do it?" 

So, from 4 a.m. to 5 a.m. I stretched, I rolled on the floor, I sat in chairs, and I found ways to massage the pain. After an hour, whatever it was went away. I was thinking, "did my appendix just explode?" but it was in the back and not the front. 

I've self-diagnosed with a pinched nerve of some sort. Too much of my life is spent sitting and writing, and I really need to start a gym habit again to keep myself limber. Aging is not fun, and I have memories of many before me with how awful back pain was for them. Not enjoyable...not in the least.

Today, however, this morning, I begin the 3rd week of Connecticut Writing Project summer programs. I enjoyed the Saturday and Sunday down time, although those were days to catch up on the other work. Here's to another week and prayers for calm, joy, creativity, and laughter. I can gripe about how much labor it takes to pull of each year, but it really is remarkable...work that fuels me for the stuff I don't enjoy so much during the academic year.

And with that...time to hit I-95

This is Not Actually Karal, But It Pretty Much Was. I Just Didn't Have My Camera On Me. So Much for the Bath

I've been saying for months that Karal needed a bath. Her shedding has become ridiculous and I knew she had an outdoor smell to her. So, after writing for several hours yesterday I got her in the tub and dig a good cleaning. She's not as resistant as my other dogs have been, but she also doesn't enjoy it. I dried her off, brought her downstairs, and let her outback so I could clean the mess mad win the tub.

Bad decision. 

When I got to the back door, Karal was mud from nostrils to the tip of her tail. She was still wet when I let her out back and my guess was she chose to role in the garden to coat herself with the earthly smell she much more preferred. I was like, "ugh," and then spent a while washing her again and cleaning the tub. It was a mess.

Life. I suppose it's about covering up our natural tendencies, but the instincts will always kick in, no matter what creature we are. We're dirty, messy, impossible, and not meant to be clean in a civilized way. She is in my house to remind me of this. We're not always meant to be contained, cleansed, orderly, and fit for the indoors. Sometimes, we simply need to be covered in mud - that is our instinct.

After the 2nd washing, I took her to the garage to stay before leashing her up for a long walk to dry. That was much better and more successful. I didn't get as much fur off of her as Cynde and Mike did Max (their  ball of shedding fur), but it was a significant amount. It filled a quarter of the bathroom garbage can and it took quite a while to spray down the mud and mop the floors.

Oh, dog ownership. It never ceases to amaze me...such a reminder of what life is really about.

Flying Into the Weekend Ready to Rest My Eyes But Am Already Thinking About the Programs for Next Week. Kids are Rejuvenating

For years, I've heard from parents that they are thankful that I've created a space for kids to find other kids like them who love to read and write. The first day always seems scary, because kids arrive nervous and there are so many of them...you think, what happens if any of them have a terrible time. What happens, though, is magical (in the same way it happens for teachers and adults who do NWP programs). A bond starts to occur...humanity comes alive...people connect with people. A community is formed.

"Thank you for hosting a space where kids can find one another...their people...the quirky, creative, and intellectual kids. My son has found a his place." 

That was an email I received yesterday. Makes me happy, because the first couple of days I didn't know. 

I'm lucky because I get to move into the spaces directing, organizing, and doing various workshops all helping the literacy labs to achieve their weekly goals. Yes, it's 7 a.m - 9 pm day, but I do fall asleep rather quick because I can't keep my eyes open. 

Of course, I'm waking today thinking about taking flight next week, already finding an easy-to-do project for the little labbers on day two, when we look at the engineering of things in the sky.

But I do know I need DOWN time for two days...and I mean DOWN. The rejuvenation is a must. 

Can't Believe Week Two of Summer Programs Comes to an End Today (Three More weeks to Go). I Am So Lucky to Be an Educator Across So Many Ages

I returned yesterday from doing a workshop with Bellarmine College freshmen, and saw the Little Labbers were challenged to engineer their own marshmallow robots. I couldn't help but take a quick photo (and yes, I heard Big Brother is back on...I didn't even think about Zingbot when creating an engineering them)(for those that don't know...I have a weird connection with the stupidest show on earth. I like the soap opera feel and the game play. I hate the social game of it all and get frustrated when anyone feels backstabbed - THAT'S THE INTENT OF THE GAME).

The young novelist are putting finishing touches on their characters and I'm always delighted to get emails like this, "My kid hates school. He despises camps. I don't know what you're doing over there on campus, but he is begging his father and I to sign him up for another week. Keep doing what you're doing." I think it is a testimony to the CWP teachers as around 15 students who only signed up for week one of Novel are signing up for week two, too. Most of the little labbers are repeaters this year and their parents automatically signed them up for both weeks, knowing the programs are different. 

And yes, I've been sound asleep by 10 p.m. each night out of our exhaustion. I actually go to bed at 9, knowing I likely won't make it to 10 pm - kid work and good work is tiring work.

I should also acknowledge that yesterday was Karallyne Caramel Kharma Cupcake's 5th birthday. I got her at age one in August, 2021, but she had a birthdate of July 9, 2020 on her paperwork. The little ball of energy that was adopted and returned 3 times in her first year of life. I can attest to that energy, but have definitely seen it slow down this year (huh? weird how it parallels my own desire to slow down?).

I have to hit the road. Most of the campus shuts down on Friday (but a few have 1/2 day). Our crew is usually the last one's to leave (and I imagine I'm heading straight towards a nap).

It's Friday! I'm just thankful that the compliments of the work are sustainably upbeat and positive. It is something...this National Writing Project way.

Another Fabulous Day Collaborating with @FairfieldSOE @FairfieldU. Thankful to Dr. John Drazan and His Engineering Team

For several years, Dr. John Drazan and I have talked basketball, youth programming, community-engaged  learning, and collaboration. Until this summer, we haven't found the exact way to do so, although the past two summers we've received hints. William King, an ESL teacher and coach at Central High School, who works closely with CWP-Fairfield and is a Fairfield University Grad has been bringing students to both of our programs. On a whim, I wrote a grant to see if we could better organize and, lucky for us, it was funded by the Bridgeport Rotary Club, which is allowing us to bring teachers to John's programs and our young people to his program to learn with colleges students mentoring King's high school students.

Yesterday simply was a fusion of all the worlds...human togetherness as planned by the grant. We engineered this. 

I was not only amazed by how well Dr. Drazan communicated the work he does as a college researcher to our Little Lab for Big Imaginations (grades 3-5), but also how well his college students work with King's high school students to mentor them to also work with young people on their STEM research. It is an art, indeed. The kids loved rotating through the different options to test speed, agility, resilience, and perseverance....all part of what Dr. Drazan studies with his students. 

In the Little Lab, we've been working on Engineering Human togetherness with a strong emphasis that writers engineer language, too. We build quite a library of books and the activities helped to lead to this point and will culminate with students writing their pieces for publication...the 14th year in a 40 year tradition at Fairfield University. 

I'm still processing the magic of what we witnessed: 16 kids, six teachers, a dozen Fairfield students, and ten as many high school kids using engineering to partner with each other to learn. I'm glad we bought the kids magic wands and wizard hats. That about right.

On another note, I took Karal for a long walk where a woman approached me, looking very tired and saying needed water. I wasn't near my house, so I said I didn't live nearby. She said she was homeless. Later, when I went to buy marshmallows for activities tomorrow, I noticed she was set up in a little gazebo near the park by my house...She must of wandered that way. I came home and couldn't get her out of my mind. I went back out in my car and drove to the park to bring her a tall bottle of cold water. She was writing on pieces of paper (journaling), but my guess is she was quite confused in her ways, too. I couldn't imagine wandering in this heat without a home or fresh water to drink. She took the water and said, "Bless you." I simply responded, "No. Bless you. You deserve to cool yourself off." 

I thought about calling the police, but I imagine others have called. I simply wanted to give her a little refreshment to fight the temperatures. Not much...but it hit me hard. I'm thankful for any and all who look out for those who struggle like she seemed to be. The gesture was small...at first I tried to keep it out of my mind, but I couldn't. She only wanted water...an hour later, when I knew where she was settled and I was buy my refrigerator at home, getting water was a no-brainer. I simply went out in my car to where she was under a sleeping bag with all her papers and handed her the bottle. It's no way for anyone to live.

Perhaps, as a civilized society, we should engineer better ways to look out for others, no matter their circumstance. With all the excess this nation has, it simply seems we could be doing more.

A Simple Reason Why I Love the Teachers Teaching Teachers Style of Professional Development. Life Long Learning & Picking Up New Tricks

The request was to get rubbing alcohol, baking powder, and turmeric. I was told by a teacher she wanted to try to make invisible ink with the little kids. We also needed Q-tips and those tiny plastic paintbrushes. The rest was in her instruction. Sure enough. The kids practiced in their notebooks what they wanted to share with others with invisible ink. Then the Tumeric was added and, lo and behold, the messages came through. I told the creator of this message that she mastered a portrait of me, because this is how I was feeling after day two of week two. The kids had so much fun with this.

I say it every year, too. It's amazing how much writing the teachers get out of kids in such a short time. The Novel Writing lab simply wants the adults to get out of the way. They seriously would write for six hours straight with no instruction if they were allowed to. The little labbers are getting that way. Any sense of chipmunk or squirrel behavior dissipates in the afternoon of Day One, and suddenly they all want to compose (it does help that outside play in the heat makes them enjoy inside writing time more). It's hard to believe it is already Wednesday, though.

The summer work also makes me realize how much I appreciate school principals and vice principals. In any given day there is a tremendous amount of learning going on in all the spaces and it would be nearly impossible to keep up with all the bodies, ideas, projects, instruction, and artwork going on. Managing an entire school must be impossible (and no one did it better that Ron Freeman in Louisville - he always told me to stay out of administration and I listened to him...it's a calling like teaching, especially if you do it right...I couldn't do it because I have no patience for the majority in K-12 teaching who do it all wrong and don't see anything wrong with how they do it. I couldn't live with myself if I had to oversee and tolerate that...my expectations are too high for fellow teachers).

It is midweek, and we're visiting the Engineering Annex again so the college kids who are working with the high school kids can work with our little kids with BIG IMAGINATIONS. It's a first for us, but we did receive funding for the partnership, and this is a pilot year. 

I'm also looking forward to the afternoon when the older kids share their writing with me in one-on-one conferences.

Bring on the Summer Naps...the Little Labbers and Young Novelists Have Started and Working with a Hundred Kids Take a Lot of Mental Meandering

I love it, and it's funny how the classroom clock simply says "1". Why, yes...it was day one and by the time you read this we'll be entering Day 2. I have to say, however, that the biggest note of 2025 thus far is how much the regulars are disappointed that it will be a summer without Abu. I mean, Abu's been with our programs most summers since they began and he's sort of a legend with teachers, parents, siblings, and campers. The older kids were like, "What do you mean he took another job and no longer has summers to spend with us?" All I could say is, "Hey, it's much harder on me. I don't have him in my home, either." Our summer shenanigans are irreplaceable.

I'm excited to bring graduate students into the fold this year and offer them some opportunities to get teaching experience before student teaching next spring. They're working in Little Lab and Novel Writing for the next two weeks, then transitioning to Ubuntu Academy. Today's bonus lesson was learning both Danish and Spanish, the languages two of them teach.

The wizard hats and magic wands also arrived and, of course, I went with the light up ones with sound effects which caused Stefania Vendrella, lead teacher this week, to say, "Crandall, I'm going to kill you." I don't blame her...I'm every teacher's worse nightmare because I buy toys that I think will be fun, but then they become a distraction. Needless to say they were monitored rather quickly.

It was also Bellarmine College's first day, so there was a return of last year's crew and the newbies for this year, which caused for many first-day jitters as every one arrived at the same time...drop offs became a lil' tricky.

Now for day two...and we'll see what we're gonna do! Always the happiest time of the year. 

Hard to Believe It's the 15th Year Directing CWP-Fairfield and Leading Summer Programs for Youth @FairfieldU. Bring On the Novelists & Little Labbers

When I arrived in 2011, all I had were books I thought I'd need, some clothes, a pillow, and nowhere to live. In fact, I was put up in the town houses with Sydney Johnson, as he had his first year as the head basketball coach. I co-taught with Lynn Winslow, Faye Gage, Del Shortliffe, Justine Domuracki and Tony (Gosh, I forgot his last name) and a year later, POOF, it all was left to me. We started the literacy labs soon after, lowered the summer price for camps so they were more affordable to non-wealthy communities, and worked to diversity all programs so they were more representative of populations across the state. 

This summer, I hired 15 educators for the 200 kids that will once again come to campus and I also have the teachers in the institute who are along for the ride and learning. We will be engineering human togetherness all the way through the middle of August, ending with our two-week tradition of Ubuntu Academy, our program for English language learners that runs for two weeks.

Yesterday I did some editing, walked Karal, put away laundry, went to campus and organized our rooms, had dinner with Oona and Pam (thank you Oona for cooking the steaks), and then came home to grill food for the week (I also feed college students who live in the dorms by grilling them meat to have in their refrigerator). It's all a labor of love and, truth be told, what I write about throughout the rest of the year. 

The coolest part is that we publish all the kid and teacher writers. That's our mission and we edit the book in the Fall. 

I believe there's much rain possibility over the next week, but I spent a part of last evening giving my plants a soak, because the sun has been beating them up, especially on these longer hot days. The wildflowers and perennials do fine...but the annuals act all dramatically thirsty. 

Today also returns to my on-campus by 8 a.m. ritual, after a three-day holiday weekend. I think we're ready and only time will let us know what we (well, I) screwed up this year.

I Thought I Learned My Lesson with Finding Sloppy Joe's at Price Chopper, But Here I Was Looking for Baking Powder in Big Y

The baking aisle would make sense, right? Nope. No Baking Powder in the baking aisle. I tried. I found turmeric with ease (we're making invisible ink with the Little Labbers this week, and I have all the ingredients, but wanted to be sure to have enough baking power. I lost.

Oh, well, I was able to attend a really good West Haven barbecue where Elan grilled chicken, burgers, and steak that were seasoned to perfection. Always love a good meal that someone else prepares. I credit Kathy Silver with the preparation, though...all of it so good and great to see ol' Bassick teachers, the boys, and their friends. Yes, I do the Irish departure, though, and leave before everyone walks down to the huge crowds and fireworks. If I wasn't overstimulated by work, I might crave such noise and chaos on a weekend, but I'm perfectly fine being with a book on a couch at 9 pm on a Sunday night. No need for any fanfare.

The first round of kids arrive tomorrow and I need to get to campus to make sure everything is good to go and receive them. The first day is always the most chaotic, as it's new for parents and kids, especially finding the right space on campus. There's a lot of questions, too, and medical forms, and needs, and pick-up switcharoos. In short, it's a great location to be a Director who is orchestrating it all. It gets done, but Day One is always frantic. It'll each every day of the week, until it starts again the week after. 

I'm heading to another grocery store today. Maybe Big Y was out of the power (and after I post this, I'm likely to go into my cupboards, because I'm likely to have some already. 

I hate shopping. I hate shopping even more when I can't find what I'm looking for and it should be right there. Rant over. Heading out doors for the day. 

Te Doy Mi Poder (I Give you My Power). A Million & One Thanks to Jessica King (Baldizon) For Enriching Teachers at the @CWPFairfield Leader Institute

I always feel graced when I have elementary school teachers in the institute and ESL teachers. It's a double blessing when there are both, which is why I knew I had to invite the spectacular Jessica Baldizon, now King, to do a presentation with our teachers. Par for the course, she brought kids and parents with her. And, as usual, the kids and parents were the best teachers of the day, explaining how written communication is important to their families, especially migrating from conflict to the United States (and yesterday, on the 4th, I spent the day reflecting on the United States I believe in, the constitution, the laws that were, the histories, and the devotion than all are created equal...we should treat others as we'd expect to be treated. It is the golden rule, isn't it?). 

I've never been a big 4th person, especially after the first time I brought some of the guys from Sudan to a firework show in Louisville. They ran to my truck absolute terrified, as the explosions triggered traumatic memories of when they were children and their villages were bombed. That had a tremendous impact on me and I have no problem bypassing such celebrations (not to mention all the aquatic life I saw uprooted during Thunder and the effects it has on many dogs...I've been lucky to not have one of these...ever)

I did spend the day living the message Jessica gave the teachers on Thursday, giving the power to others. I helped a colleague edit her dossier, a student put more touches on an academic paper he is writing for publication, and reviewing several book chapters of peers for a book to be published in 2026. Karal and I got a stupendous walk in (the humidity was gone for the day) and I did some seed work and watering that I've meant to do since April. I also cleaned the house, ordered materials for CWP, and packed up more materials for the week ahead.

I believe today is supposed to be another nice day and all I have on the agenda is to post this and walk Karal early. I probably will return to more editing soon after. I was telling my student that the truth about academics is that those expected to write for publication, you make the time in every crevice of you week that you can. He had an epiphany that writing for publication is exhausting and never-ending and I reminded him, "this is only before it is sent for review and returned with feedback to improve."

Alright, the blue sky and a leash are calling. Off I go. 

Piloting Partnership with Engineering Human Togetherness in Support of Summer Research (and Writing) with CWP-Fairfield and Dr. John Drazan

Several Engineering faculty and I have put in federal grants for potential summer programs between CWP, Engineering students, and the potential of writing projects at Fairfield University, only to learn the grants were defunded by current administration. On a whim, I threw in a smaller grant locally and received it, so yesterday we mixed K-12 teachers, high school students, and engineering students on campus doing research with Dr. Drazan. William King, our teacher extraordinaire, is the go-to man between us and the opportunity has been good for us all...especially when thinking about the ways engineers communicate information to others.

I did a sestina workshop, highlighting a poem Abu, Lossine, and I published, explaining that writers engineer language in different ways, but formal poetry asks us to look at mechanism to follow to have a structure to say what we have to say. This was used to highlight the importance of education in all learning communities, especially first generation college students, immigrant- and refugee-background youth, and finding bridges to success between institutions of higher education and local K-12 schools. 

Next week, Little Lab for Big Imaginations, begins the younger years for the work as we are engineering two weeks of inventions, both physically and with words. In my office are several children's books I ordered for such occasions. The older writers are engineering their novels, with a special attention to science, machinery, and the ways all humans depend on development in our lives that takes a different kind of brainwork. 

John says STEM is an art, so the push for STEAM is redundant. The assumption is that there is no art in engineering which he refutes (and I'm thankful for that. 

Already in week one, I can see conference paper proposals going into the 2026 calendar as the connections are already being made for why such partnerships manifest great work. I'm looking forward to all that comes next, especially the writing that comes from the engineering students which I would love to include in this summers POW! Power of Words publication.

The humidity has broken. Campus is shut down. And fireworks will be booming all weekend. Ah, here's to success in week one. Now, let's bring on the younger writers to join us!

Fifteen Years Later, Look at Dr. Richard Novack, @RichNovack, Go, Go, Go! What a Privilege to Bear Witness to His Intellectual Journey

It is not the best location to share all the incredible work Dr. Richard Novack has been doing out of his English classroom at Fairfield Warde High School, but he has a bountiful set of publications to share the ecological literacies, activism, and criticism created with teachers and young people from a carer celebrating outdoor writing and the appreciation for nature in his life.

In 2011, still sorting and processing my own doctoral dissertation, I took a job at Fairfield University, where he was a teacher in the first summer institute for teacher leadership and writing instruction. His demonstration that year was on getting outside to write and we bonded over varying trajectories with environmentalism, books, and putting words to the page in support of the world around us. 

Fast forward, he also did a dissertation at Columbia's Teacher College, and was a champion for well over five years of Reading Landscapes and Writing Nature workshops with CWP-Fairfield and Weir Farm National Historical Park (shout out to Ranger Kristin Lessard, too). 

Yesterday, Rich visited our teacher cohort to do a rambling across campus where he had the educators follow his talk on their cellphones where they were asked to take a moment outdoors to do some writing themselves. He was also wearing the National Writing Project Write Out emblems on his attire, sharing the traditions he's been part of since the beginning.

As I confessed to the attendees, the two of us didn't have a gray hair in our beards when we first met and look at us now! The power of teachers-teaching-teachers and the necessity of practice meeting scholarship. What a treat to see who we were yesterday and where he is today. It simply makes me proud.

At least, for now, another generation of NWP/CWP teachers will go forward with a little more green-appreciation, especially within the humid days of summer. His awe of the natural world is contagious, but his connection to helping young people create an ecological perspective continues to be inspiring. It is an honor to walk around Fairfield University's campus with him, knowing he is also a graduate of the School of Education and Human Development (then, the Graduate School of Education and Allied Professions, under the mentorship of Dr. Wendy Kohli). 

Love such stories and connection. Now off for Week 1, Day 3 of Engineering Human Togetherness!

Wow! I Guess This is My 15th Year of Running CWP-Fairfield Teacher Institutes and Literacy Labs at Fairfield University. Hard To Believe It

Phew. I've been packing my car and the rooms to ready Dolan School of Business with summer supplies for teachers and young writers for several days now and yesterday launched the 15th year (having the first year with Faye Gage as my mentor to the work in this region). To say I'm exhausted is an understatement, but we put in the work to get the results we want to have. It's been 23 years since I did the Louisville Writing Project and I began the teacher institute today by sharing pages from my writer's notebook and showcasing all the seeds that were planted then and what they became over time, including a published piece in English Journal, highlighting how these sees bloomed to larger than life events (through a series of events - the debut column of NWP work in the journal).  One thing that has been with throughout all the years is my big bucket of magnetic letters that I use to highlight focuses of the day - yesterday being an introduction.

Missing, however, is Abu and Jalen, who often ran with he magnets to create art, funk, and pizazz before the teachers and students arrived. I will miss both of them this summer. 

In day one, we had CWP teacher and now author, Rebecca Dimyan, on campus to discuss how a prompt experienced in a college essay workshop with students led to her first personal essay being published on Vox. She's now working on her third book and teaching full time on campus in the English Creative Writing department. Pretty neat connection and trajectory here.

Today, day two, we're moving to creative possibilities and nature writing, keeping a hard focus on what can be adapted to our own classrooms, especially those of us focused on working with English language learners. 

I'm waking up today ready to go to bed, but we're on it. We got this. After all, we only have one week before 200 kids arrive, too. 

Hmmmm. It's the First Week of @CWPFairfield's Summer Writing Programs & I'm Thinking About the Sisyphean New York Post Article About Work

The premise is, "What if you just stop? What if quit doing the work that you always do and just let it go? What if you ended all you contribute and simply say you're done?" I know teaching is emptying the ocean with a fork and Sisyphus remains one of my favorite allegories. In the high school classroom, I used to preach, "Well, you know you go to push it up the hill, but how can you do it so it is tolerable? Do you make it a musical? Tell jokes? Paint the rock?"

I purchased a 30-second dance party machine online to help me cope with five weeks of summer work. In fact, when it arrived I ran over to Pam's who was entertaining her lady friends over drinks on a Monday and simply ran in, hit the button, let the techno music play, made them dance, and then left. They were like, "You're not staying?" and I was like, "Nope. I'm too stressed and can't stay, but I wanted to be true to my spirit and give you a lil' dance party before I disappear for several weeks."

So, when I read the article, I thought....hmmm...what would happen if I operated like the majority of academics I know and took the summer off to write and not teach or run institutes or lead youth literacy labs or write grants to make sure it all happens. What if I just stopped?"

It's an interesting question as I age, because the resentment builds and builds and builds. I have had several on campus who have smugly told me that once you are promoted you have permission to quietly quit. That's not me (and I have colleagues who have not been promoted who act like they've already quit). Never been quite sure about the accountability of those who exit the game, but still claim the salary. In my hallway, except for a couple of individuals, the doors stay shut year round. I only hear about how busy they are...then, in spring peer review, learn they really aren't doing anything but continue to come back year after year. 

Could I live with myself doing that life? I don't think so, but I can sit under the boulder during a brief stint of rest to contemplate such questions.

Faryl Edelyn, the counselor I adored in KY who worked tirelessly for kids, said of the administrator who replace an administrator we all adored (who also worked tirelessly), "It's never good to clip the wings of the worker bees." That's what has happened in recent years...the ones who work, who give it their all, and who achieve results, are sprayed with Raid and swatted with swatters.

I guess I'll never get it. My satisfaction comes from the teachers I work with, the students I adore, and the National Writing Project network who carries out the mission. 

As for most others, I guess I just wonder how they get away with not even having to try to push a boulder up a hill. They hide behind it smoking cigarettes and complaining without making any efforts to do anything at all.

Yep. Here we go again. Another July!