My Once A Year Focus Group Contribution (When Opinions Matter, I Guess)

I love when I get a call to be part of a focus group, especially when I sit around a table with 9 other people and just observe, occasionally offering my opinion. I think I'm more fascinated by the work that goes into something like billing, and the ways information is laid out on a piece of paper.

Okay, I'll share what I think for two Ulysses S. Grant, an investment in a dinner somewhere (although my favorite focus group was a summer dinner with Abu, Lossine, Chitunga and Pam after a crazy @#$ summer, and it was the goodbye party while the twins returned back to Syracuse).

No, I don't need color in my bills. No, too much terminology is a distraction. No, I don't read all the extra inserts that come in the envelope. Yes, I am the guy who takes everything out and rips off the bottom part. I just need the bill. There's no need for any other distractions.

I'm glad you care. I'm glad to be paid for my thoughts, and if only bills floated at me for every opinion I have...

...like about the hours in a day and how there's never enough of them.

Ah, but this hour paid off and I will invest this spontaneous cash in something else that is spontaneous.

I don't think I'm eligible for a focus group for another year, and when my demographic matches theirs, I'm always excited. I guess they needed a White homeowner male. Normally, I don't have opinions about the layout of a bills, but if they're asking (and paying), I can contribute a thought here and there.

So, I did.

It's a Crandall Thing, I'm Still Trying To Understand (& I Have 46 Years of Trying)

On Sunday night, talking to Chitunga, he was wearing a t-shirt my parents got him for Christmas. I thought, "Wait, didn't they buy me one of those, too?" and sure enough, I found it in a pile of holiday gifts that I still haven't put away.

I decided to wear it yesterday, because it seemed pertinent.

In the last week, I scored over 40 writing portfolios (about 1,000 pages), edited 221 pieces of student writing for a publication of POW (over 200 pages), assessed over 100 poems for peace for the Poetry For Peace annual contest, and even traveled to Atlanta for the fancy chicken McNugget.

So on a Monday, with a road to good intentions, I was driven to achieve my daily goals when an opportunity presented itself to write a $1,000 grant that is due Wednesday. I had to scratch everything and put my focus at the opportunity. Why? Because, if funded, the money will go to kids and that's what I'm all about. I spent the day distracted to write a 10-page proposal, just for the chance...

...just for the chance...

and that is the dance, "It's a Crandall Thing (you wouldn't understand)." I love this shirt and I had to laugh when Chitunga had it on Sunday night, because part of my parental scoffing was that he needs to chill out from time to time to take a break. Yes, he went to a college party on Saturday - woot woot - but he's pretty hardworking the other 7 days a week. Everything I want to reprimand him for I have to say, "Guilty as charged."

I'm sure other Crandalls in our crew might not agree with what the "Crandall Thing" actually is, but for the two of us, it's pretty obvious.

I love my new shirt and know I could wear it every day (thanks Mom and Dad) because it summarizes it all (the 14 hour days, the travel, the constant projects and inability to chill out). Phew.

I looked at my calendar. Yes, I talked Chitunga into taking a short break during HIS spring break, and we will do this, but I looked at my spring break - the week that follows, and WHOA! I'm way overcommitted during my time off! Two states, 4 presentations, and political work. What was I thinking? Happy holiday to me!

After 48 Hours Behind a Computer Screen Editing, I Want To Be Oedipus. Remove My Eyes

To the left is how I have dreamt the last two nights. I fault this because I've spent my days behind computer screens reading student work from last summer and, really late, put editing touches on POW - Power of Words, our summer publication of student work.

The college essays, Ubuntu Academy, and Project Citizen provide unique reads and original ideas. Our young novelists are infatuated with dialogue, Harry Potter-esque stories, vampire romance, and teenage tragedy.

The dialogue, though. They love their dialogue to move a story along. The middle school kids, too, like to call every paragraph they write a chapter - phew. They're paragraphs!

221 pieces of 3rd - 12th grade writing. I didn't mean for my eyes to cross, but that is what editing of young writers does to a fellow.

When I took a break to run, or when I took time out to walk Glamis (needing to find breaks between the bursts of rain), this is all I could see. Flashing lights that comes from spending too much time behind a screen.

I'm sure the flashing is annoying you, too. It is, however, the perfect metaphor and with that, "Welcome back, Monday. Now go away."

If Only I Could Write This Post In The Tiniest Font Possible: This Is Happiness.

In 2001, the Turtle graduated from the Brown School, a member of my first freshman class and the only group of kids who had me, and only me, as their English teacher - poor souls. In 2018, Jon flies to Syracuse where he has work to do up north in Fort Drum, and he asks, "Frog, any chance you'll be in Syracuse this weekend."

Nope. But the Eagle is there. Chitunga. They met a couple of years ago when we toured the University of Louisville and Chitunga decided, "Nope, not for me." Secretly, I wanted Tunga to walk on to the football team, but I'm thrilled he didn't go. He now has Syracuse in his blood.

Chitunga picked up Jon at Hancock International and took him to the Clam Bar. The report was some guy named Bill took the photo - well, Chitunga said, "Let's call him Bill."

Jon's been in Syracuse before when a van of No More Violence stopped at my parents on the way to the Mohawk Valley BOCES to do a workshop. He was a teenager then, and now he is in his 30s, married, and with two kids.

This is the magic of life, and the two of them are the 'still waters run deep' types. I'm not sure what they talked about at the Clam Bar, but I hoped they ate well.

Jon went to Eastern Kentucky State University, ran track, and made a career in psychology. He's the original recipient of Perks of Being a Wallflower, and I absolutely loved having him for four years - my dog-sitter when I went to Japan and Denmark and the kid I always said would be family for life.

He's still family.

And his handwriting was the tiniest crap I ever read. He was a brilliant thinker, but he wrote so small and always in pencil or light pen. All of my eye problems today, I can blame on him!

The photo: Chitunga and Jon at the Clam Bar in North Syracuse, New York, is absolutely classic. I could spend the rest of this morning writing about it, but I could not capture how wonderful I think this photograph actually is. I hate that I wasn't with them, but love the fact that they had to make small talk (probably tiny, minuscule dialogue that both of them had to desperately pull out of one another) hopefully over sea food and a beer.

Here's to the strange way the Great Whatever works. Now, I need to get back to work.

Proud to Have Representation in New Decorations For the Graduate School of Education and Allied Professions

 I came into the office today to see that old photos were replaced with new photos, and that the Little Lab for Big Imaginations and Ubuntu Academy (look at the dialogue and Ubuntu circles) were represented as you enter. I'm not sure I like seeing me in the photos, but I do love to see that the hard work and collaboration between Dr. Ryan Colwell (Little Lab) and myself are being recognized. The summer we united Ubuntu Academy and Little Lab for Big Imaginations was extra special - especially creating a dialogue, poems for two voices, and community for populations in southern Connecticut.

Phew. It was a Friday yesterday, wasn't it.

I'm probably speaking on behalf of most people in the northeast, but we are definitely ready for the warmer, more hopeful days of spring. The days have been gray, wet, and dreary, and it makes a difference when there's more sun, more green on the ground, and more blue in the sky.

Today, there's a chance that Turtle, Class of 2001 (two g's and dollar), Jon Walker, will meet up with Eagle, Chitunga, in Syracuse, as Jon is flying in for a week of work at Ft. Drum. Chitunga and I went to dinner with him in Louisville after we toured the the University and it brings me great pride that the two of them may meet at the Clam Bar when he flies in at noon. There's also a chance that Lossine, via Enterprise, might help Jon to get a car while he drives north to Watertown (the very location where the best principal of all time, Ron Freeman, did his training). Jon and I share that Brown School connection and Chitunga has toured the building, so he knows it, too (as well as Alice).

I'm floating into the weekend with a rather large agenda, but I am looking forward to tackling it without meetings or obligation (might even finally see Black Panther). We shall see how much sleep I get an how much I accomplish each day.

That Ubuntu circle, though! Phew! That makes me happy - a representation of what is possible with the right vision and design.

Happy Saturday. Here's to the possibilities.

Home, DMV'd, File Reviewed, Portfolio Audited, Banked, and Exhausted

Highlight of my yesterday: 4 free burritos from Chipotle after I wrote them a letter of complaint about their prices and pricing trickery. They know what they are doing, but I don't think that too many people actually take the time to write them (they charge like $2.95 per toppings that you would think would be a part of the deal. You get 3 of these, and your burrito can cost almost $15.00).

Not worth that, so I wrote and got gift certificates.

Otherwise, I started my morning in Bridgeport at the DMV and seeing the lines of foot traffic at least a 1/2 mile out the door, I said, "I'm driving to New Haven," which I'm glad I did, because I got my Subaru's title rearranged in about 1 hour and 25 minutes. Much, much easier.

I expected to be in Oklahoma today, but with the ice, I decided I could take advantage of a day given back to me to get household things taken care of (the DMV and banking). By 1 pm, I was in my office getting on top of projects carried over from last summer. By 7 pm I was home working on writing projects. By 9 pm, I realized, "Crandall, you're simply exhausted."

I am exhausted.

The weather doesn't help, either. It's turned cold again, gray, and rainy.

Ah, but a package arrived from Sue with fresh coffee and chocolate bourbon balls (my house smells great from the coffee and the bourbon balls were are out of this world).

It's Friday. I just want to sleep. I won't. But that's what I want to accomplish. ZZZZZZzzzzzzz.

And I Would Walk 2,014 Miles....Oh, Mother Nature - the Power You Have Over Us.

There’s a long way down, but also a long way up, especially when it’s time to rebound (as Bud Luckey’s sheep reminded us in Boundin). Yesterday, I flew 2.5 hours to eat a chicken nugget posing as a sandwich in Atlanta, Georgia (1007 miles/2014 round trip). I left my house at 7 a.m. and landed at 12:30 p.m.. As soon as the wheels hit the turmac and I took airplane mode off my phone, it rang. It was Jennifer Dail. I thought, “She must really be excited to see me and is cheering me to hurry up to get to Stillwater.”

It was Shelbie Witte, however. “Bryan, the 21^st Century Research Lecture Series at Oklahoma State University has been canceled. An ice storm is coming in tonight and the University has shut down. Is there any way you might be able to return to Connecticut today?”

For the last few weeks I’ve written many scenarios in my head for what might get in the way of this event: a crashed computer, my own car crash, a nor’easterner, a blizzard, falling down the stairs, a re-flooding of my basement, bad news from a friend or family, all in anticipation of not being able to make it to the Divergent Award ceremony. I’ve been sending weather reports to Shelbie, too, because I wanted her to see that Connecticut was going to be in the 70s. We got the storm I was anticipating last weekend.

“Um, Bryan, we're getting the storm,” she continued. “Ice. I hope you’re not mad at me.”

How could I be mad at Shelbie Witte? A year ago this spring, I got a text from this incredible woman telling me I was nominated for an Initiative for 21^st Century Literacies Research’s Divergent Award. It came to me via Facebook messenger and my cellphone. I first asked on my cell, “Who is this?” and on Facebook, “What is this?” 

For the last year, teachers and I have been working on a book chapter about our LRNG work, and Shelbie has been one of the editors. I got the message after I wrote something on Facebook about hitting a trifecta: George E. Lang Award, Elizabeth M. Pfriem Award and an Impact Fairfield Grant. The messages I received stated, “No, you’ve hit the superfecta.”

I immediately went online to read about the Divergent Award and had to admit that the description about diverging from traditional pedagogies is totally me, but when I saw past winners: Hannah Gerber, Sara Kajder, Donna Alvermann, Antero Garcia, and Ernest Morrell, I had to think, “This committee is out of their mind!”

Me?

A few weeks continued where I tried to explain to Shelbie Witte that I’m not the “scholar” that the committee might think I am. I do everything wrong. Then the official application for the award came and I did my best to apply. I sent my CV and an outline of the talk I'd give. 

Then I learned I was selected. What?

Here’s a truth: for weeks, maybe even months, I read and reread Shelbie Witte's text messages, the Facebook messages, and what I wrote in my application. I also read everything posted by the Initiative for 21^st Century Research. I kept thinking I was missing something and that Shelby was really Pinky Tuscadero of Happy Days, inviting me to a nerd party where I would be her Potsie Weber or Richie Cunningham.

And ever since the announcement came out I’ve been overjoyed, appreciative, awed, and inspired by the individuals who work so make this event possible. My academic family quickly grew, and I still feel extremely special for having the opportunity. I was thrilled to learn I would see Jennifer Dail at the event and Craig Hill – two people who have become national friends to me. 

Shelbie is magical, and it’s been great to be in touch with for a year. Secretly, I wanted to have a drink with her, however,  to ask, “How do you do it everything that you do?” 

Ah, but Maude (that was my grandmother’s name for Earth – the result God and Mother Nature doing the nasty) had another plan. There’s nothing worse than ice – see LRA in Texas a few years ago when I was trapped there or a week or see Wisconsin for NCTEAR in 2011 when I was trapped in the Midwest trying to get to the northeast for job interviews. 

It is what it is.

We Rebound. We know it's A Long Way Down. Yet we also know there’s always hope for a beautiful a way up.

I had a great day yesterday. Delta was wonderful and got me on a flight back home at no extra cost. I took my day at the airport to read Kwame’s Rebound and Jason’s A Long Way Down – loved them both. I also scored portfolios for a local high school and ate that chicken nugget on a roll that they sold me as a sandwich at Chic-Fil-A (I see a Crandall letter being written soon to them in hopes I will score redemption coupons - it was a pathetic sandwich....worst I ever had).

But it was great. Wonderful people behind this day (Shelbie) will find another way to make it happen. I am still thrilled I was chosen for an award! What an honor!

(and I got my Sue McV miles in....3 terminals and about 2 hours of walking. Phew).

There will be a time, too, to sing Oooooooooooprahoma! That was a part of my opening speech! From CNS, Class of 1990, to the 21st Century Lecture Series.

I Think The Great Whatever Might Say It's Probably Good, @jennifer_s_dail, That I Arrive Today

And the Gold Medal goes to Dr. Jennifer Dail, Kennesaw State University.

Yes, my colleague, mentor, friend, inspiration, and fellow lover of everything literacy in the world arrived to Oklahoma a day before my flight gets in. She, like Drs. Shelbie Witte and Susan James, has become VIP in the universe of Crandall. Should I have arrived a day early, I am sure the two of us would have found some sort of mischief to get into (we still will, but it may be good I'm a day later).

Jennifer has a mad selfie game and I bow dow to her achievement during the 2018 Pyeong Chang Olympics. She has received the gold medal for a solo selfie, especially when she sent this to me last night wondering where the heck I was (note: the greenery behind her is not a hat nor a wig, just a brilliant extension of a fantastic selfie - that is why the Gold medal went to her....and to match her earrings). Everything about this selfie is miraculous and, flights permitting, I hope to compete alongside her in the colleague/pair event scheduled tonight and Thursday.

Phew. What a life it's been since the ball fell in 2018.

This morning, I'm on my way to Stillwater, Oklahoma for the 21st Century Literacies Lecture Series where I've been invited to give a talk that I'm calling (Re)Humanizing Literacies with Ubuntu: I Am, Because We Are. My goal is to highlight everything J. Graham Brown School, Louisville Writing Project, Hoops4Hope, Syracuse University, and Fairfield University, especially in regard to the work I do with immigrant and refugee youth. This, of course, is the National Writing Project way.

It is an honor, and I'm still shaking my head that anyone wants to listen to what I have to say. I'm sure Chitunga, Abu, and Lossine, like all my students, get tired of me rather quick, and I know my mom, dad, and sisters have been rolling their eyes at my thinking for 40+ years. Still, I am already reflecting on this opportunity as an amazing one to focus and articulate what has become my life work.  (Oh, Sue McV, you have no idea how you have made these wings strong).

My talk, however, will acknowledge that this work is not mine; I am, because of who we are together. 

A big part of me wants to put a link in this post for my 30-minute talk in case anything happens (e.g., technology, snow storms), just because I know I won't share my remarks until later this week (I'm always strategizing for the 'what if' scenarios). I am waking up this morning, however, truly excited to meet others from across the nation, and to give sincere hugs to all involved with this invitation.

I am truly grateful to everyone behind these initiatives and to Oklahoma State University for hosting the event. Glamis, the wonder dog, definitely knew I was packing last night and so, this morning, I'm getting the cold, furry, silent treatment. She has good company while I'm gone and I'm simply looking forward to absorbing the expertise, friendship, wisdom, brilliance, and passion of many while I'm there.

I'm sure the starlings flying in my chest will settle once I land! 

And with that, I'm off to the airport.